“If I take time off before, I'll die of boredom,” she told Bill, and he didn't disagree. He thought that as long as the doctor said she was in good health, she should do what she wanted. And he had suggested to her again that she think about working on his show after the baby came and maybe hand in her notice in the newsroom in December.

They went out a fair amount, to quiet restaurants where they could relax like the Ivy and Chianti and the Bistro Garden, and then occasionally to the noisier, livelier ones like Morton's, and Chasen's, and, of course, Spago. And they talked to the boys at least twice a week, and they were fine too. And the ratings on Bill's show were better than ever. Everything was going smoothly, and Bill kept reminding her that the next time she went, he wanted to join her at the doctor. It was his baby now, too, no matter whose genes were involved, but they had made love often enough, and grown close enough that somehow, he felt he should have been the father, and Adrian didn't deny it.

She had heard nothing from Steven since June, or from his attorney since July, and she didn't worry about it. She assumed that the divorce was still in the works, but she didn't think about it very much. She was too busy at work, and too happy with Bill. And she hadn't slept in the town house since August, the night the boys left.

But the call from her attorney on October first still surprised her. He was calling to tell her that Steven wanted the condo put on the market. She had expected it, but she was startled anyway. It was nice knowing that she had a place to live, a place of her own, even if she didn't live there.

“They want to be sure you won't be there when it's shown,” the lawyer said.

“That's fine,” she said coolly.

“And they want you to make your key available to the realtors, and leave the apartment in good order.”

“That's not difficult. Did they tell you he'd taken every stick of furniture with him? All I have is the bed and my clothes in the closets, one carpet, and a stool in the kitchen. I'll do my best to leave it neat.” Somehow as dismal as it all was, she realized that it was also amusing.

“And you haven't refurnished?” Her attorney sounded surprised by what she had just told him. She had forgotten to tell him before. And Steven's attorney hadn't told him that, but he suspected that there was a lot more that Steven's attorney hadn't told him, like why he was rejecting his own baby, and ending his marriage to a woman who was both reasonable and decent.

“No, I haven't. The apartment is empty.”

“It might not show well that way. They probably think you've refurnished.”

“Steven should have thought of that before he cleaned it out. I'm not going to furnish it just so he can sell it out from under me.”

“Do you have any interest in buying him out, Mrs. Townsend?”

“No, I don't. And even if I did, I couldn't afford it.” The lawyer had told them what he wanted for it, and she thought it was too high. But if he got it, then she'd get half, so she wasn't going to argue. “How's the divorce coming?” she asked cautiously. It was still a delicate subject with her.

“Everything is in progress.” He hesitated and then decided to ask, even if her husband didn't want to know. “How is your pregnancy going?”

“Fine.” And then, “Did Steven's attorney ask about it?”

“No, he didn't,” he said regretfully, and she only nodded.

“Is there anything else?”

“No. Just the apartment. We'll proceed with the realtors, and advise you who'll be handling it. How soon could you start showing it?”

She thought about it for a minute and then shrugged. “Tomorrow, I guess.” There was really nothing to do. Even her closets were fairly neat, especially now that half her belongings were across the complex in Bill's guest room closet.

“We'll be in touch.” She thanked him and they hung up and she was still pensive when Bill picked her up to take her home after the six o'clock news. He did that a lot now. And people talked. They knew who he was, but they were curious about the implications, and she continued to make no comment whatsoever about being pregnant. And when one woman she didn't like had asked, she had looked her right in the eye and said, no, she wasn't.

“Something happen today?” He sensed her mood as they drove home. He had picked up fresh crab for dinner.

“Nothing much,” she lied. She was still disturbed about the call from her lawyer.

“You seem quiet.”

“You're too smart for your own good.” She leaned over and kissed him. “My attorney called today.”

“What's up?” For a moment he looked worried.

“Steven's putting the town house on the market.”

“Do you mind?” He frowned as he glanced at her while he drove home. He never really enjoyed their conversations about Steven. But she didn't love hearing reminiscences about Leslie either.

“Sort of. It's nice to know I have a place of my own, even though I never use it.”

“Why? What difference does it make?”

“What if you get tired of me, or we have a fight or … I don't know …what'll we do when the boys come back for Thanksgiving?” Even though she doubted that it would be sold by then.

“We tell them we love each other and you're having a baby, and we're living together, that's what we tell them. No big deal.”

She smiled ruefully at him. “You've been writing soap operas for too long. That might sound normal to you, but it wouldn't to most people, and it won't to Adam and Tommy. And maybe if I lived there all the time, they'd feel crowded and resent me.” She had been thinking about it all day and she was worried about it.

“So what are you telling me? You want to get your own place?” He looked markedly unhappy.

“No, that seems foolish. I'm just telling you that I'm not thrilled he's selling it. It's just nice to have it.”

“How much does he want for it?” She told him and he whistled. “That's an awful lot, but at least you get half of that, I assume, if he gets it. Maybe it'll be nicer having money in the bank than an apartment you don't use and just sits there.”

She sighed, nodding at the wisdom of what he'd just said. “You're probably right, and it's no big deal. It's an adjustment, that's all.” And there had been a lot of them since June. And also a lot of very wonderful changes.

“Does he want to talk to you?” Bill asked calmly as they pulled into his parking space. They were driving the woody. But she shook her head. He didn't.

But she called Steven at his office the next morning. She recognized the secretary's voice, and politely asked to speak to her husband.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Townsend is not available. He's in a meeting.”

“Could you please let him know I'm calling,” she countered.

“I'm not sure I can disturb him.”

“Please try,” she urged, getting increasingly annoyed. He had obviously told his secretary that if his wife ever called, not to put her through, and Adrian didn't deserve that.

The secretary disappeared and came back on the line two minutes later. It hadn't been long enough to tell anyone anything, she was just faking. “I'm sorry, Mr. Townsend will be tied up all day, but I'd be happy to take a message.” Tell him to drop dead, she was tempted to say into the phone, but she didn't. And there were other possibilities, too, but she resisted them all.

“Just tell him I called about the apartment,” she started to say, and then decided to really leave him a whopper, “and the baby.” The bomb dropped and there was silence. “Thank you very much.”

“I'll tell him right away,” the secretary said in haste, as though he didn't already know. But Adrian knew that Steven would hate getting the message. If his secretary knew, sooner or later, people would start talking.

But he didn't call. His attorney did, half an hour later. Steven had called him within seven minutes. And the attorney had tried to call her attorney but couldn't reach him. So he called Adrian himself so he could call Steven back immediately and assuage his client's panic.

“Is there a problem, Mrs. Townsend? I understand you called your …Mr. Townsend this morning.”

“That's right. I wanted to speak to him.” For a mad moment, she had wanted to ask him why he was doing this to her, why he was taking everything away that had been theirs, and had rejected their baby. Now that it was moving, that it was alive, that she felt it, and could see the bulge that it caused in her body, she was even less able to understand how he could push them both away. It still didn't make sense, and she wanted to talk to him about it. It had nothing to do with how much she loved Bill. She did. But Steven was still the baby's father.

“Would you mind telling me why you were calling him?” He tried to sound kind. Steven had been adamant in his instructions.

“Yes, I would. It was personal.”

“I'm sorry.” He paused and Adrian understood all over again.

“He's not going to speak to me, is he?”

He didn't want to answer her directly, but the lack of an answer told her the same thing just as clearly. “He feels that … it would just be too difficult for both of you, particularly given the circumstances.” He was afraid she was going to get emotional and try and force the baby on him. He had no idea that she was living with a man who genuinely loved her, and wanted her baby. And he would never have been able to understand it.

“Is there a problem with the pregnancy? Something that relates to Mr. Townsend, in spite of his legal stance vis-&-vis the child?” She wanted to tell him to shut up, to knock off the legalese and deal with her like a human being. But the sad thing was that he was trying.

“No, never mind. Just tell him to forget it.” Which was exactly what he wanted. He had told the attorney that he wanted to forget everything about her, but the lawyer would never have told her.