Mom In Waiting. Maureen Child

could only hope that the icy chill of the tea would help toward cooling off the blood rushing through her veins.

      “So,” he said.

      “So,” she said right back. Strange, they hadn’t had any trouble talking in the car. Why so strained now? Because sitting opposite each other in a restaurant seemed too much like a date for comfort? Hah. Her on a date with Captain Rick Bennet? Not likely, despite what her imagination would like to think. Just to prove it to herself, she asked, “You said Andy and Jeff are still single. What about you?”

      He took a sip of tea, set the glass down and said, “The same.”

      Tracy hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until it slipped from her in a gust at his answer. A ripple of pleasure ran up her spine. As much as she knew she was indulging in a fool’s paradise, she hadn’t wanted to hear about his gorgeous girlfriend and/or live-in lover. Not to mention, God forbid, a fiancée.

      “Mom’s been making all of the traditional whining noises about grandchildren for the last few years,” he said with a rueful laugh, “but at least for the foreseeable future, she’s out of luck. I can’t see either Andy or Jeff as daddies.”

      “What about you?”

      “What about me?”

      “You don’t want kids?” she asked, then caught herself and added, “Oops. None of my business.” Though the thought of seeing Rick’s handsome features in a tinier version brought her all sorts of warm fuzzies.

      He smiled and shook his head. “Traditionally speaking, you should be married to have kids and since I don’t plan on doing that, I guess not.”

      She buried the quick flash of disappointment that shot through the pit of her stomach. For heaven’s sake. Why should she be disappointed? What did she care if Rick wanted children or not? She didn’t, she told herself, although she was curious about why he was so set against marriage.

      Before she could think better of it, she heard herself ask that question out loud. “As long as I’m being nosey, why are you so against marriage?”

      “I’m not against the general idea of it,” he said. “Just as far as it concerns me.”

      “How come?” she asked.

      “Lots of reasons,” he answered, then added glibly, “maybe I’m just too old.”

      To Tracy’s admittedly biased eye, Rick had aged just like good wine. He’d gotten stronger, and more fully developed. At that gooey thought, she felt a flush of heat steal up her neck and bloom in her cheeks. Oh, this was getting out of hand, she told herself. Didn’t she have enough to think about without reigniting a nearly fifteen-year-old torch?

      One more time, she tried for objectivity. A casual conversation between two old—if not friends—acquaintances.

      “You’re thirty-two Rick, not exactly Methuselah.”

      He gave her a small smile. “Thanks, I think.”

      “So what’s the real reason?” And why did she care?

      Rick studied her for a long minute as if trying to decide whether or not to answer her question honestly. Finally, he said simply, “I already took one oath. To the Marines.”

      Now that surprised her. What would his being in the military have to do with taking a pledge against marriage?

      “The Marines and families don’t mix?”

      “They can,” he said, leaning back in the booth. “With the right kind of spouse.”

      “Intriguing,” she said. “And what kind is the right kind?” If she was a little more interested in his answer than she pretended, he didn’t have to know that.

      “Oh,” he tipped his head back and stared up at the ceiling. Frowning, he moved more to his right to avoid one of those skeletal plastic plant limbs. “Someone who doesn’t mind moving every few years. Someone who can handle a partner’s absences.” To explain that one, he added, “Some outfits are deployed for six months at a time. And families don’t go along.” He took another long drink of tea. “You’d be surprised how many wives—and husbands for that matter—complain.”

      Seemed to her that if you married someone in the military, knowing what they did for a living, then you had no right to complain about the job description.

      But what did she know? Though the idea of travelling all over the world—on a boat, not a plane—appealed to her, she could see how some women wouldn’t exactly thrive on it.

      “There’s a trail of discarded wedding rings from here to Guam,” Rick told her. “A military life will either make a marriage stronger than steel or shatter it completely.”

      “And you’re not willing to risk it?”

      “That’s right,” he said, giving that plant a look that should have melted its plastic roots. “I’ve sat and listened to too many of my friends when their marriages ended. It’s not enough they’re miserable...their children’s lives have been ruined, too.” He shook his head and stared directly into her eyes. “No, thanks. Not for me. I’m not going to be the first member of my family to get a divorce. And I’m sure as hell not going to make babies only to be forced into a custody suit somewhere down the line.”

      “Well,” she said softly, “there’s a positive attitude.”

      “I’ve seen too many negatives to make a positive.”

      “But lots of people do it,” she pointed out.

      “Sure. I have a few friends who’ve been married forever. But their wives put up with a lot.” He took a deep breath and shook his head again as if trying to figure out just how and why the women did it. “The base housing alone is like a walk on the wild side. You’re never even sure if you’ll actually find a house on base available and when you do, more than likely it was built during the Second World War. Or the First. Model homes they’re not.”

      Maybe she was just being a romantic, but did where you live count for more than who you lived with?

      “Well,” she said, “you grew up moving from base to base. Did you mind?”

      “Not a bit,” he admitted with a half smile. “To us, it was fun. Not always easy to make new friends, but we always had each other. New schools every few years. No time to really offend any one teacher before you were off to new territory.”

      “Until you landed in Juneport.”

      “True. When Dad left the Corps and settled down, it was hard to get used to at first.” Bending forward, he leaned his elbows on the tabletop and cupped his drink between his palms. “Actually, staying put was harder on us than the constant moving around, for a while.”

      It might have been hard on him, she thought. But the day the Bennets had moved onto her block had been one of the highlights of her teenage life. Of course, she wasn’t about to admit that out loud. It was bad enough that he had so many memories of her staring at him like an old, worshipful hound.

      Instead, she said, “Yeah. Then you had plenty of time to win the enmity of teachers. Mr. Molino for example?”

      He shrugged exaggeratedly. “Geometry. Still gives me nightmares.”

      Strange how differently two people saw the same situation. She’d always been grateful for Rick’s helplessness at math. Those tutoring sessions when she’d had him all to herself had been the stuff a fourteen-year-old’s dreams were made of.

      “Enough about me,” he said suddenly, locking his gaze with hers. “What’s going on with you? Meg tells me you’re some kind of superstar with computers.”

      Had he asked Meg about her? she wondered, then told herself that was unlikely. Why would he have cared about the little twit he remembered?

      “Not really,”