Tony was, indeed, a good listener, though he was far from sympathetic on all scores. Justine had already told him about Sloane, so the fact that she had fallen in love was no surprise to him. For the first time, however, she related Sloane’s proposal of marriage and her subsequent refusal.Thatdrew out the brotherly instinct.
“Are you sure you’ve made the right decision, Justine?” he asked. “I mean”—his eyes fell for a moment of hesitancy—“we haven’t ever really gone into all that, but I know how badly you were hurt by Dad and your mother. I’m not quite sure, though, that you should let that one instance sour your feelings forever.”
To the best of her ability she argued her case, talking of her work and its lessons. And, though Tony did not broach the matter of the ugly experience of her childhood again, neither was he convinced of the justification for her beliefs. On the issue of Alaska he pointed out the positive, exuding excitement at the prospect of such a trip, such an experience. His mood was contagious; by the time he had kissed her good-bye at her apartment door, pleading an excess of coffee and an early appointment the next morning, she felt buoyed. Once again, however, the bubble burst as soon as she was left to her own psychological devices. Where the heart was concerned, she was fast discovering, reason was irrevocably altered.
As she approached the law so she approached her dilemma. The facts, as she saw them, were easily laid out. There was the fact that she loved Sloane and he loved her; their weekend in Westport had proven that decisively. There was the fact of his marriage proposal and her refusal; again, these were absolute. There was the fact of the CORE International project in Alaska and her own abduction into its realm. But there the facts ended.
From there things grew muddled. Fine lines blended together, confusing issues, complicating others. What were the offshoots of these facts? Would their love lead them to a viable compromise? Could Sloane discover that he might temporarily abandon the thought of marriage if being with her meant enough to him? Would this trip to Alaska be the deciding forcefororagainsttheir future? What was that future to hold?
Above it all Justine only knew that Sloane’s appearance in her life had brought with it the kind of upheaval she had never, in her well-paced designs, envisioned. To her chagrin she was ill prepared for it. Her emotional keel wavered left to right, high to low. There seemed no stable force to cling to.Until that day,a mere one before the meeting at Sloane’s office, when she found that force around which to rally.
On that day, in early July, she discovered she was pregnant.
Chapter 7
“You’rewhat?” It was seven thirty in the morning. Susan Bovary had just returned from working her usual night shift. She was exhausted, to say the least, and now wondered if she’d heard correctly.
“I’m pregnant.” Justine calmly repeated her announcement, eyes sparkling, lips twitching up at the corners despite her own sleepless night. Still in her robe, she intended to spend the morning in bed. Her meeting with Sloane was not until one in the afternoon. She owed herself this small luxury—and she badly needed the rest.
Susan was suddenly wide awake. “You’re pregnant? You’re going to have Sloane’s baby?”
“Mybaby, Sue.” She smiled gently. “And yes, Iamgoing to have it.”
Her roommate’s eyes clouded momentarily. “Are you … pleased?”
Justine’s continuing smile and the light flush on her cheeks heralded her answer. The night had been one of soul-searching. She’d been shocked at first, then terrified at the thought of being pregnant. And alone. From the first that was a given. But as the hours wore on, her mind had warmed to the thought of the microscopic seed growing in her body. Yes, she had alternatives and she considered each in turn. She could agree to marry Sloane … but she wouldn’t. She could easily arrange for an abortion … but she couldn’t. Hence her decision was made. Her future would hold love after all. She’d love her child with every ounce of her being.
She hadn’t anticipated getting pregnant, hadn’t planned on having a child. But it was marriage that frightened her even more than motherhood. Now she carried Sloane’s child, a child conceived in love. That knowledge gave a glow to her smile.
“After nearly eighteen hours of nonstop deliberation … yes, I’m pleased. In fact I’m feeling very … lightheaded.”
Her joy was evident, much as it surprised Susan. “Oh, Justine, I’m thrilled for you then! I had no idea you wanted a baby.”
“Neither did I,” her friend retorted with humor. “And I was pretty shocked at first. Since I saw the doctor yesterday, I’ve had to totally rethink my plans. I do intend to have the baby and I plan to raise it myself.”
“Yourself? You mean”—Susan started in disbelief—“that you still won’t marry Sloane?”
“No.” Soft but firm.
“But … what if he wants the baby?”
“He won’t necessarily know about it—”
“You’re not going to eventellhim? Justine, it’s his child, too! He has a right to know!”
“That’s where I don’t agree with you,” Justine argued, voicing her thoughts of the night gone by. “When Sloane realized that I wouldn’t marry him, he more or less deserted me. I didn’t hear from or about him for a full month. Then, I finally saw him in the office, and there was some harebrained scheme for me to act as the lawyer-specialist for his project. Well, I’ll go with him to Alaska, and I’ll give him the best legal advice I can. But that’s all. After the month we will have nothing to do with one another.”
“But he’ll see—”
Justine shook her pale-copper-covered head. “I’ve got it all figured out, Sue.” Her eyes reflected her excitement, gleaming a rich green beneath a thick red fringe. “I’m barely six weeks pregnant now. The trip is planned for August. I’ll only be in my third month then, into my fourth at the end of the trip.” Her voice quickened with anticipation. “The doctor told me that, with a first pregnancy, I probably wouldn’t show until the end of the fourth or the fifth. If that’s the case, Sloane will never know. And, I have this funny feeling that I won’t be wearing the chicest of outfits there in the wilds of Alaska. All I have to do is to pick loose things, sweaters and jackets that hang fairly full and low. Very simple.”
Susan eyed her skeptically. “Ifhe never sees you nude—”
“He won’t!” It was a seething vow, reflective of the hurt Justine continued to feel inside along with her love for Sloane. Now, she had the baby to consider; instantly the thought soothed her.
Susan was quiet for a moment, before moving on. “And what about work—when you do show?”
Again, Justine had considered this. “I think that, given proper camouflage, I can work until my sixth month. Then, I will simply take a leave of absence. If the firm can so easily spare me for this month”—her dismay at the last fact surfaced unbidden—“they can just manage without me for a while longer. Then, I will find a nurse to take care of the baby during the day—when I decide to go back to work.”
