Tracy held Dan’s hand as they walked the dogs along the trails behind their house, which was actually a backward way of looking at it. Once off leash, the dogs walked the two of them. The rains of March had passed. April offered spring and, now that she was off the night shift, more sleep and more time with Dan.
She was busy, gathering the evidence that Celia McDaniel would use to charge Detective John Owens, and she imagined she would remain busy for some time.
Somewhere in the fading light, Rex and Sherlock thrashed through the underbrush, taking in all the different smells and sounds of the second-growth forest. Birds chirped and trilled, and overhead the trees knocked and creaked in the breeze.
Ordinarily, after a day working downtown, this was Tracy’s nirvana. This evening, though, she felt queasy and light-headed. Maybe it was the accumulated lack of sleep. She’d always had trouble switching back to working days after a month pulling night shift.
She stopped and took a deep breath of the fresh air, but she had a metallic taste in her mouth and had all day.
“You okay?” Dan asked.
“Queasy,” she said. “And I feel like I’m having hot flashes.” She fanned her jacket, then unzipped it. The cool air felt refreshing.
“You want to turn around?” Dan asked.
“If we do, we’ll pay the price with the two of them running around the house all night. I’m all right. The cool air actually helps me feel a little better.”
They started walking again. “Maybe you got a bug. The flu is going around.”
She shrugged. “It could be menopause. My mom went through it early.”
Dan stopped walking. “You know it’s okay, right? I mean whether we have children or not. I’m okay with it just being the two of us, so long as I have you.”
Tracy smiled. “It will never be just the two of us, not with Rex and Sherlock, and Roger.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.”
“And you’re okay with it?”
“There’s not really a choice, is there?” She squeezed his hand as they walked. “In time, I’m sure it will be fine. I’m disappointed that I couldn’t conceive, but things happen for a reason.” She thought of Leah Battles. Be careful what you wish for.
Tracy couldn’t mask her disappointment that she could not conceive a child, but she had a good life now. She had Dan and a place to call home, a career that gave her a purpose, and a feeling that she was doing something for the greater good.
Dan kissed her and they continued toward home.
“Did you talk with Leah Battles?” Tracy asked.
“I did.”
“And?”
“She seems competent. It will take her a while to get up to speed on criminal and civil procedure outside of the military, but she’s had an awful lot of experience on her feet. I liked her.”
“Are you going to hire her?”
“I already made her an offer.”
“What did she say?”
Dan smiled. “She said she’d think about it and get back to me in a week.”
Tracy laughed. “I told you she was a pistol.”
“She has several months before her commission expires,” Dan said. “She’s not in any rush. But I’m fairly certain she’ll accept. I can’t see her working for one of the large law firms.”
They finished their walk and returned home. For dinner, Dan had made his famous enchiladas. They came out of the oven bubbling cheese and red sauce, and bursting with flavor. After just a few bites, however, Tracy set down her fork.
“Still not feeling well?”
“I think I’m going to lie down. I’m sorry. I’d rather eat these when I can enjoy them.” She stood and picked up her plate and fork.
“I’ll clean up,” Dan said. “Just leave everything.”
“Thanks,” she said. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
She paused, feeling again like she could throw up.
Dan started to get up. “Let me help you.”
She waved him off. “No. It’s fine.” Then she laughed. “It’s only a few feet to the bed.”
She went into their bedroom, changed into a T-shirt, and climbed under the covers. Sherlock and Rex had already found spots on Dan’s side of the bed, curled into balls and trying to look as small and inconspicuous as possible so they wouldn’t get booted. They were not allowed on the bed when Tracy and Dan went to sleep, but occasionally they’d sneak on early in the morning. Tracy didn’t bother to move them. She enjoyed their company.
She awoke after dark. The clock on the nightstand indicated it was just after 2:00 a.m. Dan snored lightly beside her, and the dogs grunted from their beds on the floor. She hadn’t heard Dan come into the room, and she hadn’t heard or felt Rex or Sherlock get off the bed, which meant she’d really been out of it. Now, however, she feared she might be up the rest of the night.
She got out of bed and shuffled out of the room and into the bathroom, which was lit by a night-light. She felt better than she had earlier, still a bit light-headed, but not nearly as nauseated. She shut the door three-quarters, and sat, but didn’t immediately go to the bathroom. She looked at the cabinet beneath the sink and wondered. Then it dawned on her that she might have one more.
She stood, flipped the light switch, and rummaged in the cabinet until she’d found the box. Inside, one pregnancy stick remained. She removed it, but didn’t immediately open it. In her heart, she knew the odds were stacked against her. They’d had no success on the Clomid, and Dr. Kramer had said the chances she could get pregnant on her own were less than good.
She was tired of getting her hopes up only to be disappointed. She shook that thought. Her father would have called it a defeatist attitude. If she expressed doubt before a shooting competition, he’d tell her not to compete. “If you go in thinking you’re going to lose, you’ve already lost. If you go in thinking you’re going to win, you’ll be disappointed if you lose. So just go in to the competition with the attitude that you’re going to compete, which is all you can control anyway.”
This wasn’t quite like that, but she really did have no expectations.
She thought of Dan, of that night when she’d been content to just go to sleep. The night he’d held her and told her that she was all he wanted in this world. They’d made love, not to make a baby, just to be close.
She unwrapped the pregnancy stick, peed on it, and set the stick on the top of the tank while she went to the sink to wash her hands. She dried them on a hand towel, glancing in the mirror behind her at the stick. She wasn’t going to have any expectations. She wasn’t going in thinking the results would be positive or negative.
She walked back to the toilet, but no matter what she told herself, she couldn’t quiet her heart, which was pounding.
That could be the flu.
She reached and picked up the stick, staring at it.