Chapter Two
"What about this one?" Paige held the dress in front of her, watching it
drape over the bulge of her stomach.
"Uh, I-I. . .um." Walter's eyes darted from side to side, probably searching
for something to put himself out of his misery. "It-It looks, ah. . .okay?"
She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Poor Walter. If the last place
she wanted to be was this maternity shop, she could only imagine where he'd
rather be. His eyes were like saucers, his arms crossed firmly over his chest
as he stood as still as statue. Almost as if he was afraid if he touched
any of the merchandise or fixtures, he'd burn up in flames of embarrassment.
Which was probably her fault for dragging him with her in the first place
And giggling her head off when he'd picked up a breast pump and wondered
aloud what it was for. But Ms Lee (aka Attila the Attorney) had commanded
Paige buy the most innocent looking maternity dress she could find to wear
for the trial, after finding major fault with her current outfit of a non-maternity
tee shirt and cropped yoga pants.
"No, it doesn't," she said, glancing down at the floral tent-sized dress.
"It looks hideous." Hanging it back onto the rack, she pulled out the next
one. It was even more horrifying than the last one, neon yellow with bright
purple roses and moss green leaves. "Ugh, who would even wear this?"
"Uh, pregnant women?"
"No, duh, Mr Brainiac, " she snapped. "Sorry." She put the dress back and
waddled (yes, waddled, dammit) to where he was standing. Placing a
hand on his arm, she patted it gently. "You can go wait in the car if you
want."
"I'm okay," he said automatically, a slight flush rising on his cheeks as
he added, "Uh, it's actually, um, quite fascinating. . .watching you. . .uh,
shop."
"Your funeral," she said with a shrug before pulling out another dress, this
one Pepto-Bismol pink and covered in lace and bows. "Why is everything so
fussy? You don't have answer that, Walter," she said as he opened his mouth.
"I was just going to say you look beautiful no matter what you're wearing."
He smiled tightly at her, a sign he was worried about upsetting her.
His words had the opposite effect though. "Thank you," she said, kissing
him on the cheek. "That was a very sweet thing to say."
"I do try." His grin grew broader and she was once again dazzled by how handsome
he was when he smiled. He still didn't do it often enough, which was probably
just as well. She'd never get anything done if she was constantly melting
into a big gooey puddle.
"Well, you could try and help me find something," she said with a sigh. "My
feet hurt." She swore she could feel her ankles swelling up like balloons.
Glancing around the store, Walter pointed to something to her left. "There's
a chair and footrest. You could sit and I could bring y-you dr-dresses to
look at."
"Sounds like a plan." Paige plopped down in the padded leather chair and
hoisted her legs up onto the matching ottoman. "Ah, much better. Okay, let
the fashion show begin," she said with a wave of her hand.
He brought over dress after dress, all equally horrifying. "Try to find something
in a solid color," she urged, shielding her eyes as he held up yet another
ghastly floral nightmare.
"Okay." He was gone for several minutes, and she wondered if he'd gotten
lost or if he'd decided to make his escape while he had the chance. Closing
her eyes, she ran her hands over her belly as the baby squiggled about inside
her.
"How about this?" Walter's question startled her and she looked up to see
him holding a red dress. A red sleeveless sheath with a deeply scooped neckline
and made from some kind of slinky material.
"Uh, it's beautiful, but. . ." She bit her lip. He seemed so proud of himself,
she hated to burst his bubble over how inappropriate his selection was.
"It-It's a solid color. And you look good in red," he said defensively when
she hesitated.
"It's hardly innocent looking though."
"Oh." She watched as Walter gave the dress an assessing going-over. "I-I,
uh, still think you should, um, try it on." He held out another dress, a
navy blue one with a sailor collar and big white bow. "This one, too."
"All right," she said, swinging her feet off the footrest, and held out her
hand. He helped her up, and she took the garments from him. With a sigh,
she headed for the dressing room.
Fifteen minutes later, she stepped out in the navy dress. "It looks nice,"
Walter said as he once again was standing statue-like in front of the door.
He looked more frightened than he had earlier, and she wondered if someone
from the staff or another customer had approached him while she'd been changing.
"You don't like it?" he asked.
Frowning down at the dress she was wearing, she said, "Not really, but it's
certainly innocent looking enough. It looks like something a first grader
would have worn back in the ‘70's. Come to think of it, I remember seeing
a picture of my mother wearing a dress just like this when she was in first
grade."
"Maybe you should try on the other one," he suggested with what sounded like
a hopeful note in his voice. Glancing at him, she caught a trace of eagerness
in his expression just before he slid a mask of indifference over his face.
Saving her speculation of his odd behavior for later, she said, "Okay," and
went back inside.
She smiled as Walter's eyes nearly popped out of his head when she emerged
from the dressing room a few minutes later. The red dress clung to her body,
accentuating her stomach, and the low neckline put her pregnancy-enlarged
breasts on prominent display.
"See," she said as she moved closer, "not so innocent looking at all."
"N-N-No." His gaze raked her from head to toe, his chest heaving as though
he'd been running. "Y-You l-look stunning." Reaching out, he touched her
belly, caressing the silky fabric. "I, uh. . .I think w-we should buy this
one."
"But when would I wear it?" she asked with a shake of her head. "It's not
appropriate for the trial. And I'm only going to be pregnant for a couple
more months."
"I have a few ideas," he replied cryptically. "We-we could get the other
dress too. For the trial."
"Fine with me." She turned around and lifted her hair. "Can you help me with
the zipper? I had a tough time zipping it up when I was putting it on."
For a moment or two, she thought Walter had suffered a stroke. His mouth
was hanging open and his eyes were unfocused and he appeared to be rooted
to the floor. Then she realized just what she'd asked him to do.
Subtle hints usually flew right over his head. Basically requesting he undress
her in public, well. . . His brain probably exploded. "Don't worry about
it, I can. . ." she began, not wanting him to get the wrong idea.
"No, no, I-I c-can. . .I can do it." Glancing over her shoulder, she watched
as he approached her, his left hand trembling badly as he reached for the
zipper pull. His fingers grazed the back of her neck, sending a spiral of
lust down her spine before pooling low in her abdomen.
"Maybe we should go inside?" she suggested, pointing to the mirrored alcove
where she'd been changing. Because now, the wrong idea seemed like a really
good idea. The room was fully enclosed when the door was closed and its padded
bench was small but sturdy. The noise might prove dicey, but they could be
quiet, when properly motivated. And she fairly certain he was as motivated
as she was at the moment.
She grinned knowingly as she watched him reach the same conclusion she had.
"Uh, I'm not sure we should. . ." he began, interrupting himself by taking
a deep breath. She reached out and took his hand.
"Oh, I think we should." Paige ran her fingers over his shoulders and into
his curls, causing him to shudder.
"Okay." He nodded, letting her pull him into the dressing room.
After shutting and locking the door, Paige spun around, lifting the hair
from the back of her neck again. She smiled coyly at him. "Unzip me?"
"Where the hell have you two been?"
Cabe's growled question stopped Walter in his tracks. Paige took the garment
bag containing her new dresses from him and lifted it into the air.
"Dress shopping. Direct order from the US Federal Attorney," she said before
draping the bag over the top of her desk.
"And is there a reason why neither of you could answer your cells?"
Walter glanced at Paige, who unsuccessfully tried to hide a smile. "Uh, we
had to. . . We had to sh-shut them off for our, um, meeting," he lied as
he certainly wasn't going to tell the Homeland agent they'd turned them off
while having sex in a maternity shop dressing room. Perspiration formed on
his brow as his face flushed with heat. Paige nodded her head vigorously
in agreement, her own cheeks a bright pink.
"Well, Richard Elia has been calling all morning," said Cabe. "He's having
trouble with that throttle you designed. His manned rocket is scheduled to
launch in three days and if it fails, his funding from NASA dries up." The
agent tapped his watch. "The rest of the team went on ahead to the facility
almost an hour ago. I suggest you gather up what you need and get your ass
over there, pronto."
"So much for putting my feet up for awhile," Paige said, shrugging as she
slung her purse back over her shoulder.
"There's no need for you to go, kid." The older man's voice was full of fatherly
concern. "You should stay and rest. Walter is usually on his best behavior
around Elia."
"Except for the time he hit him upside the head with a laptop," Paige countered
with a chuckle. "Okay, you've twisted my arm, Cabe. I'll stay."
Walter pressed his lips together to keep from blurting out, "No, I want you
to come with me." Even he knew how selfish it would sound. But leaving her
by herself terrified him, his brain enumerating all the scenarios in which
Paige or the baby or both could be endangered. He'd never forgive himself
if anything happened to either of them.
But she did appear tired, he noticed as she continued to chat with Cabe.
The dark circles under her eyes, her weary stance, the slight swelling of
her ankles. . . The lack of sleep caused by their nightmares was taking a
toll on her as well. She did need to rest. Tearing his gaze from her,
he went to collect his gear.
"Be careful," he murmured a few minutes later as she wrapped her arms around
him.
She laughed. "How much trouble can I get into while taking a nap?" she asked.
But under her levity, he noted her nervousness. She was just as reluctant
to be away from him as he was from her. Separation anxiety Toby had called
it, just like after they'd been taken hostage. Yet another unwelcome symptom
brought back by the impending trial.
"We better get going, son," Cabe called out from where he stood by the garage
door.
"You be careful, too," she said, "I love you." She leaned in and gave him
a peck on the mouth.
"Love you." Walter hefted his backpack onto his shoulder before placing his
free hand on her stomach.
"You probably shouldn't keep Elia waiting," she commented as he rubbed her
belly.
"Probably not," he mumbled, feeling their son moving about inside her. Richard
Elia could wait. A mischievous thought crossed his mind then, and even though
he knew she'd never agree. . .
"I just thought of a name for the baby," he announced, trying to suppress
a grin.
"What?"
"Ralph starts with an ‘R'. So what about Richard?"
"No way," she said in a tone he recognized as exasperation. "No child of
mine is going to be nicknamed Dick."
Oh, damn, he hadn't even thought of that. Dick. Laughter burst from
his lips as he could no longer contain his mirth.
"Not funny, mister." Paige put her hands on his chest and pushed him backward,
giggling a little herself. "You better go before I have to hurt you."
"Okay, okay." Leaning forward, he kissed her cheek then walked out the door.
He was still chuckling as he climbed into Cabe's SUV.
An insistent buzzing near her ear roused Paige from her sleep. Sitting up,
her confusion disappeared as she remember she was taking a nap in the loft
on what used to be Walter's bed. Yawning, she heard the buzzing again, and
realized it was coming from her phone lying on her pillow. She picked it
up and answered without checking the caller.
"Hello?"
"Sorry to wake you up, kid," said Cabe in a voice that didn't seem sorry
at all. "Can you be ready to leave in five minutes? There's a car coming
to pick you up."
"Sure," she said, still a little groggy as she ran her hand through her hair.
"I just have to pee."
"Just do what you need to do and get downstairs." She could hear the urgency
in his tone and instantly became alert. There could only be one reason why
he'd be calling her. . .
"Oh, God, Cabe, what's going on? Is Walter. . .? Is he. . . is he. . .?"
Her words floundered as she suddenly couldn't catch her breath.
"Sweetheart, calm down, he's still alive. . ." For now, she thought,
filling in the older man's pause. "We're doing everything we can, but. .
."
"Cabe, please, tell me. . ."
"He was accidentally launched into space, and we're gonna need your help
getting him back down to Earth."
Before Paige could think of anything coherent to say in reply, a loud knock
rang out from the downstairs as Walter's son kicked inside her.