Tara Quinn - Born in the Valley

She pulled him down to her, enticing him with her tongue along the edges of his lips, enticing him with other things.

Keith wasn’t sure he should finish what he’d started.

More and more he’d come up against this strange vacancy in Bonnie. This refusal to tell him what she was thinking. But this was the first time it had translated itself into their sex life.

“Bonnie?”

“Yeah?” Her voice was languorous, as though she was giving herself up to passion, as though she wasn’t even aware of the chasm deepening between them.

He was tempted to give up for tonight, to enjoy whatever communication remained between them.

“Why won’t you talk to me? Tell me what’s wrong.”

Her hands didn’t move from around his neck, her hips still pressing against him. “There’s nothing to tell.”

He wanted to believe that. “You seem kind of…distant.”

“I’m really just tired, babe,” she said, her voice full of the intimate warmth that had made him her slave from the very beginning. “I’ve spent the entire week reassuring parents. They needed to hear for themselves that there really was no danger to their kids, that Greg’s official report said the arson was a random act. And no one was satisfied until they’d heard it directly from me.”

She reached up to kiss him and his body started to respond again.

Keith rose on his elbows.

“So I’ve just imagined the distance growing between us these past couple of months?”

It was a subject he’d broached often.

“I’m right here, Keith. Loving you and Katie every bit as much as I always have.”

Keith stared down at her. That was the kind of frustrating nonresponse he received every time. Instead of giving him a real answer, she countered with something good and affirming.

And he knew from experience that if he pushed, he’d just get more of the same.

“I don’t understand.”

She pushed a lock of hair off his forehead, running her fingers through to the ends, which rested at the bottom of his neck. “Don’t understand what?”

“Why I’m battling this fear that things are slipping away and you don’t even seem to be aware of anything changing.”

Fear wasn’t an emotion he was all that familiar with. Certainly not one he’d ever admitted to before. It was probably only because he was still lying intimately on top of her, her arms around him, that he could own up to it now.

“Keith.” She held his face with her hands. “Things are not slipping away. You have my word on that. I’m right here. I’m going to stay right here. I love you very, very much. I don’t even want to contemplate what life would be like without you. Okay?”

Slowly Keith nodded, all the while feeling a sense of defeat. How in hell did you communicate with someone who refused to acknowledge the problem?

And how could he fix whatever was broken when he couldn’t find out what it was?

Or maybe she couldn’t acknowledge the problem because it was him? And it couldn’t be fixed?

Staring down into green eyes that looked almost black in the darkness, Keith knew he wasn’t going to be able to rest easy that night. “You’re sure there’s nothing wrong that you aren’t telling me? You aren’t sick or anything?”

“I’d tell you if I was sick, you know that.”

“And business at the day care is good?”

“Amazingly so, especially considering the fire.”

“What about Katie? Is there something wrong there you aren’t telling me about?”

“Of course not! I tell you everything about Katie.”

About Katie maybe. But then, Katie had always been a source of joy between them. Caressing Bonnie’s cheek softly, he remembered how Bonnie’s pregnancy had brought them so much closer when he’d already thought they were as close as two people could be.

The nights they’d spent creating scenarios of what it would be like to be parents, the doctor’s visits, listening to that heartbeat inside her, the hundreds of names they’d picked out only to discard each one and begin again. The countless times he’d rubbed her growing belly with lotion…

“You don’t regret having her, do you?” he asked as the horrible thought occurred to him right in the middle of his reminiscing. She sure hated those stretch marks now that she’d lost weight.

Bonnie tried to sit up, which only brought her breasts and hips against him. “Of course not,” she said, settling back. Her eyes were huge in the moonlight. “Never! Katie is so special. I’d give up my life for her.”

“I still remember the day we found out you were pregnant.”

It had been a Saturday and they’d gone together to buy the home pregnancy kit. And then she’d made him wait outside their bedroom while she’d done the test. He’d burst in, anyway, when her thrilled scream exploded throughout the house.

“Me, too,” she said, her voice softening. “I was incredibly happy. I didn’t have any idea how great it was going to be once I actually held her.”

They were quiet for a moment, a contented quiet. A together quiet. Like they used to share.

“Remember all the hours it took to find just the right crib?” he asked, enjoying the escape to a happier time. “It had to be antique white with spiral spindles, only three inches maximum between the bars.”

“And the wallpaper.” She grinned. “I can’t believe how many days I spent trying to decide between horses and rainbows.”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t have to, or the nursery still wouldn’t be done.” He smiled, recalling how excited she’d been when she’d found a paper that had horses on a carousel with rainbows in the background.

Excited. Happy. His. He’d come in from work that night to be greeted by her exuberant “Guess what?” as she’d launched herself at him, throwing not only her arms around him, but her legs, too, catching him off guard. Luckily the couch had been behind him and they’d fallen onto its cushioned softness. As he remembered, it had been a good half hour before he’d ever found out what she’d been so excited to tell him.

And then, without warning or forethought, as they lay there intimately entwined, the solution to the undefined problem became crystal clear to him.

“Let’s have another baby.”

Hips that had been pressing into his withdrew, not far, but then, the bed wouldn’t allow her to move any great distance.

“Katie’s three,” he reminded her. “Potty-trained. The timing’s good.” He paused, but not long enough for her to reject the idea. “If we wait much longer, there’ll be too many years between the kids for them to have anything in common.”

Her hands had dropped, and she ran her fingers along his arms. “You said you didn’t want a bunch of kids.”

The irony was not lost on him. She’d always wanted a big family. The thought of several kids to provide for, several kids taking his and Bonnie’s time until they had none left for each other, had only made him feel trapped.

“I’m not talking about a bunch of kids,” he told her, allowing the weight of his hips to rest completely on her. “Just one more.”

She didn’t say anything. Her fingers were almost frantic as they drew small circles on his upper arms. Her breathing had quickened.

And she wouldn’t look at him.

“Is that a no?” he asked, bracing himself for her answer.

She shook her head. And relief swept over him.

With a surge of protectiveness—and feeling very much in love—Keith bent to kiss her softly. “Talk to me, honey.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“That you want a baby. That you don’t.” He loved her so much, needed so badly for her to be happy. “Just talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking. Let me in.”