He drove her to work the next day, and told her he'd bring her home after the six o'clock news, and then take her back for the late show. And when Zelda saw her, smiling at her desk, she knew something had happened to her. But she didn't pry. She just guessed, and hurried down the hall, feeling happy for her. And when he stopped in at noon, Zelda knew exactly who it was, and precisely what must have happened.

“It worked!” Bill beamed.

“What did?” A bear had attacked a child at the zoo, and the child had nearly died, and Adrian had to make a decision about what part of the tape to run, but she was happy to see him anyway, as she looked up and saw him smiling broadly. “What worked?” she said a little more gently. It had been a busy morning, but everything seemed to be bathed in a haze of happiness and pleasure.

“Your idea. About Harry being the baby's father. It works out perfectly. And everyone on the show is pleased, especially the director. George Orben is a pleasure to work with, and everyone is delighted about his getting a bigger part. You're a genius!”

“Anytime, Mr. Thigpen. Anytime.” She smiled. She was still hoping that one day his job offer might work out, and she could be working on his show instead of in the newsroom.

“Can you go out to lunch?” He looked hopeful, but she shook her head. There was too much going on, the bear at the zoo, a policeman had been brutally murdered an hour before, and the government had fallen in Venezuela.

“I don't think I'm going to get out of here till after the six o'clock news.” He nodded, kissed her, disappeared, and was back half an hour later with a huge hamburger, a cup of soup, and a fruit salad.

“It's all good for you. Eat it.”

“Yes, sir.” And then she whispered, “I love you,” under her breath, and saw out of the corner of her eye the look of disapproval on her secretary's face, and she realized what she had done. Her secretary didn't even know she and Steven had separated, and here she was kissing another man. There were several interested stares, and she knew that they would be even more so, once people started figuring out that she was pregnant.

“Who was that?” one of the editors asked her bluntly as Bill left.

“His name is Harry,” she said mysteriously, “his wife died several months ago.” She was paraphrasing his new plot for his soap, but of course no one knew it. “…She was Helen's best friend …” The editor raised an eyebrow, shook his head, and went back to work, as Adrian went back to work too. And when he turned to look back at her as he left, he saw that she was smiling.





SEPTEMBER SPED BY WITH HARD WORK AND HAPPY nights, and blissful weekends. And toward the end of the month, people were beginning to suspect that she was pregnant. She was almost six months, and no matter how loose her clothes, it was easy to figure out that there was something beneath them. She had not asked for maternity leave yet, though, and she had decided to work till the very end, and take time off after it was born, which seemed simpler.