I’m not surprised when Nissa slaps my fingers playfully. “Don’t be a smart ass,” she says gruffly. Her smile doesn’t fade, though. If anything, it broadens in excitement.
My best friend and I have always lived vicariously through each other’s life. Since high school, Nissa has wanted a career and a life of travel, but an early pregnancy shattered her dreams, and she’s never quite been able to pick up the pieces. I, on the other hand, have enjoyed just such a life. I graduated from college with a master’s degree in nursing and have become one of the most experienced nurse practitioners at Franklin Osborne Cancer Center, something I’m incredibly proud of. Considering my home life, it wasn’t easy to make anything of myself, and the fact that I did what I set out to do makes me feel more than just accomplished. It makes me feel whole.
Travel has just been a bonus. Nate and I have enjoyed the resources to be able to travel all over the country, and even to some of the Virgin Islands. But never to Europe, even though it’s the one place we’ve both really wanted to go. We just never made it a priority.
While I’ve enjoyed the travel, it was never that important to me. Unlike Nissa, my biggest aspiration has been to have children with my wonderful husband. Or at least have a child. But fate never took our side, never helped us out. Neither had modern medicine with its infertility treatments and in vitro fertilization. Nothing had worked.
We’ve discussed adoption, but I wanted to hold off until I turned forty. Being a nurse, I know the risk of birth defects increases at that magical age. By then, I thought I’d be willing to concede and go another route. “At that point,” I’d told Nate a dozen times, “I’ll happily explore adoption.” Until then, however, I’d been unwilling to give up on my dream of giving birth to a child that would, in my eyes, be the best of my soulmate and me—my dark blonde hair, Nate’s jewel-green eyes, my ready laugh, his sharp mind. But now, at forty, I wished I’d chosen more wisely.
If only I’d known…
“Europe. God, this is a huge deal, Lena! Europe?”
I nod, pushing my melancholy aside. I’m perfectly content to let my best friend’s enthusiasm drown out all that plagues my mind. Or at least muffle it to a tolerable gurgling sound in the background of my every thought. I know there is no escaping it while I’m conscious, so I have to settle for as many short-term distractions and mufflers as I can get.
As we chat about the plan, Nissa finishes off the majority of the ’81 Dom Perignon Nate brought, along with a half gallon of orange juice, while I nurse my single flute. It’s nearly eight o’clock by the time Nate stumbles into the kitchen, his attractively graying hair standing on end all over his head. He looks like a perfectly rumpled version of the man I’ve loved for over half of my life.
“Did you sleep here?” he asks Nissa, his voice still rough with slumber. I’ve always adored that sound. It’s sexy and intimate and so totally Nate that it makes my heart ache like ancient bones on a cold day. But then, when he turns his gaze to me, one side of his mouth twisting up into a grin, memories of last night’s endless lovemaking brings warmth rushing in to chase away the chill.
“No. I don’t sleep. You know that.”
“Then is Mark home?”
“No, why?”
Nate shrugs. “I just figured you’d have an army of mouths to feed by now.”
Nissa gasps. “Holy Lord, my kids! I forgot my kids! They’ll burn the house down trying to work the toaster!”
Nissa hops up so quickly she nearly upends the table. With reflexes peculiar to mothers of small children, she somehow manages to steady both of our glasses as well as the mostly-empty champagne bottle before they do much more than rock on their bottoms. “Whew! That was close,” she exclaims, gingerly releasing the glasses as she bends to kiss my cheek. “I’ll be back over later to help you pack.”
“You told her?” Nate asks from in front of the refrigerator where he’s lazily sifting his way through closed containers of leftovers, peeling back lids, and sniffing contents.
“She did,” Nissa chimes from half in and half out of the door. “You just leave it to me. I’ll make sure she packs something sexy. She’ll turn every head.”
“We’re going to Europe, not a swinger’s club.”
“Nothing wrong with a few strange eyes on a man’s wife to make him appreciate her.”
At that, Nate turns and pins Nissa with a frown. “I do appreciate her. More than anybody on the planet.”
Nissa nods. “Well, you’ll want to appreciate her naked when you see what I’m sending. Things from my closet.”