As Einstein busily pumped pedals and clicked tiles against one another, Travis carried his beer and the dog’s water dish out to the front porch, where they would sit and wait for Nora. By the time he came back, Einstein had finished forming a message.
COULD I HAVE SOME HAMBURGER? OR THREE WEENIES?
Travis said, “I’m going to have lunch with Nora when she gets home. Don’t YOU want to wait and eat with us?”
The retriever licked his chops and thought for a moment. Then he studied the letters he had already used, pushed some of them aside, and reused the rest along with a K and a T and an apostrophe that he had to release from the Lucite tubes.
OK. BUT I’M STARVED.
“You’ll survive,” Travis told him. He gathered up the lettered tiles and sorted them into the open tops of the proper tubes.
He retrieved the pistol-grip shotgun that he’d stood by the back door and carried it out to the front porch, where he put it beside his rocking chair. He heard Einstein turn off the pantry light and follow him.
They sat in anxious silence, Travis in his chair, Einstein on the redwood floor.
Songbirds trilled in the mild October air.
Travis sipped at his beer, and Einstein lapped occasionally at his water, and they stared down the dirt driveway, into the trees, toward the highway that they could not see.
In the glove compartment of the Toyota, Nora had a.38 pistol loaded with hollow-point cartridges. During the weeks since they had left Marin County, she had learned to drive and, with Travis’s help, had become proficient with the.38-also with a fully automatic Uzi pistol and a shotgun. She only had the.38 today, but she’d be safe going and coming from Carmel. Besides, even if The Outsider had crept into the area without Einstein’s knowledge, it did not want Nora; it wanted the dog. So she was perfectly safe.
But where was she?
Travis wished he had gone with her. But after thirty years of dependency and fear, solo trips into Carmel were one of the means by which she asserted- and tested-her new strength, independence, and self-confidence. She would not have welcomed his company.
By one-thirty, when Nora was half an hour late, Travis began to get a sick, twisting feeling in his gut.
Einstein began to pace.
Five minutes later, the retriever was the first to hear the car turning into the foot of the driveway at the main road. He dashed down the porch steps, which were at the side of the house, and stood at the edge of the dirt lane.
Travis did not want Nora to see that he had been overly worried because somehow that would seem to indicate a lack of trust in her ability to take care of herself, an ability that she did, indeed, possess and that she prized. He remained in his rocking chair, his bottle of Corona in one hand.
When the blue Toyota appeared, he sighed with relief. As she went by the house, she tooted the horn. Travis waved as if he had not been sitting there under a leaden blanket of fear.
Einstein went to the garage to greet her, and a minute later they both reappeared. She was wearing blue jeans and a yellow- and white-checkered shirt, but Travis thought she looked good enough to waltz onto a dance floor among begowned and bejeweled princesses.
She came to him, leaned down, kissed him. Her lips were warm.
She said, “Miss me terribly?”
“With you gone, there was no sun, no trilling from the birds, no joy.” He tried to say it flippantly, but it came out with an underlying note of seriousness.
Einstein rubbed against her and whined to get her attention, then peered up at her and woofed softly, as if to say, Well?
“He’s right,” Travis said, “You’re not being fair. Don’t keep us in suspense.”
“I am,” she said.
“You are?”
She grinned. “Knocked up.”
“Oh my,” he said.
“Preggers. With child. In a family way. A mother-to-be.”
He got up and put his arms around her, held her close and kissed her, and said, “Dr. Weingold couldn’t be mistaken,” and she said, “No, he’s a good doctor,” and Travis said, “He must’ve told you when,” and she said. “We, can expect the baby the third week of June, and Travis said stupidly, “Next June?” and she laughed and said, “I don’t intend to carry this baby for a whole extra year,” and finally Einstein insisted on having a chance to nuzzle her and express his delight.
“I brought home a chilled bottle of bubbly to celebrate,” she said, thrusting a paper bag into his hands.
In the kitchen, when he took the bottle out of the bag, he saw that it was sparkling apple cider, nonalcoholic. He said, “Isn’t this a celebration worth the best champagne?”
Getting glasses from a cupboard, she said, “I’m probably being silly, a world-champion worrier… but I’m taking no chances, Travis. I never thought I’d have a baby, never dared dream it, and now I’ve got this hinkey feeling that I was never meant to have it and that it’s going to be taken away from me if I don’t take every precaution, if I don’t do everything just right. So I’m not taking another drink until it’s born. I’m not going to eat too much red meat, and I’m going to eat more vegetables. I never have smoked, so that’s not a worry. I’m going to gain exactly as much weight as Dr. Weingold tells me I should, and I’m going to do my exercises, and I’m going to have the most perfect baby the world has ever seen.”
“Of course you are,” he said, filling their wine glasses with sparkling apple cider and Pouring some in a dish for Einstein.
“Nothing will go wrong,” she said.
“Nothing,” he said.
They toasted the baby-and Einstein, who was going to make a terrific godfather, uncle, grandfather, and furry guardian angel.
Nobody mentioned The Outsider.
Later that night, in bed in the dark, after they had made love and were just holding each other, listening to their hearts beating in unison, he dared to say, “Maybe, with what might be coming our way, we shouldn’t be having a baby just now.”
“Hush,” she said.
“But-’’
“We didn’t plan for this baby,” she said. “In fact, we took precautions against it. But it happened anyway. There’s something special about the fact that it happened in spite of all our careful precautions. Don’t you think? In spite of all I said before, about maybe not being meant to have it… well, that’s just the old Nora talking. The new Nora thinks we were meant to have it, that it’s a great gift to us-as Einstein was.”
“But considering what may be coming-”
“That doesn’t matter,” she said. “We’ll deal with that. We’ll come out of that all right. We’re ready. And then we’ll have the baby and really begin our life together. I love you, Travis.”
“I love you,” he said. “God, I love you.”
He realized how much she had changed from the mousy woman he’d met in Santa Barbara last spring. Right now, she was the strong one, the determined one, and she was trying to allay his fears.
She was doing a good job, too. He felt better. He thought about the baby, and he smiled in the dark, with his face buried in her throat. Though he now had three hostages to fortune-Nora, the unborn baby, and Einstein-he was in finer spirits than he had been in longer than he could remember. Nora had allayed his fears.