Doubt (Chapter 10 - Baby Blues)
Title:Doubt
Author:glasheen25
Pairing/Characters:Nancy/Ned, Nancy/Frank
Series:post-files
Word Count:3271
Rating:R
Summary:In the first instance Ned misses his flight, missing Nancy's birthday in the process. In the second instance Ned makes his flight, arriving on time. How a seemingly inconsequential event could lead Nancy's life in two completely different directions.
Spoilers:None
Warnings:None
Pushing in the door of the restaurant, a bell hanging over the entrance tinkled her arrival as Nancy slid gratefully into the comforting warmth of the dining room. Candles flickered gently on the tables, a coal fire blazed in the grate and the whole effect was comforting against the inky black of the night that seeped in through the narrow curtained windows. Discovering she was the first to reach the restaurant, Nancy was inwardly glad to take a moment to relax before she would be besieged by her friends. Unbuttoning her coat, Nancy draped it over the back of her chair before she sat gracefully down, picking up the leather bound menu as a matter of course, the action being entirely unnecessary as the girls knew the short choice of dishes off by heart.
“Hey, Nan.”
Hearing the familiar chorus of voices, an eager smile spread across Nancy’s face as she looked up to see her friends approaching the table. Fashion conscious as ever, Bess tottered across the wooden floor in heels, a miraculous achievement considering the streets were like glass outside. Following her was a rather more sensible George, the girl wearing heavy boots and blowing fiercely into her hands, presumably to warm them.
“What the hell is going on with the weather?” George grumbled discontentedly as she unzipped her coat and slid into the booth across from Nancy. “I feel like hibernating and not reemerging until all this goddamn snow has cleared. It’s really messing with my training for the marathon next month.”
“I know,” Bess nodded in complete agreement, her blonde curls bobbing up and down in unison. “I so wasn’t expecting this. I just spent a fortune on these gorgeous Louboutin shoes and they are going to be so last season by the time I’m going to get to wear them.”
Shooting a look of disgust at her cousin, George shrugged out of her heavy winter jacket before turning her attention to Nancy. “Well, how does it feel to be finally released from Alcatraz?” she demanded jokingly, her comments echoing Nancy’s previous comparisons between her job at Mc Kenzie and Baker and a convict serving a life sentence in prison.
“Good, I mean fantastic,” she amended hurriedly, plastering a smile across her face as the waitress carefully poured wine into their glasses, Nancy eyeing her glass to make sure the dark-haired waitress was not too heavy handed when she was pouring the red liquid into hers.
The meeting between the friends was to serve as a celebration of sorts, Nancy having finally finished out her days at Mc Kenzie and Baker, and Bess and George always eager for any excuse to get together, no matter how frivolous the affair. Now free of her obligation to the firm, Nancy had to admit she didn’t feel as excited as she should have felt. Not that that was a surprise. When Nancy had imagined leaving her internship in the law firm, she had envisioned embarking out on her lifelong dream of training to be an FBI agent. The notion of her becoming pregnant in the interim had never even figured in, and for good reason; the mere thought of her turning up in Quantico cradling a five-month-pregnant belly was laughable.
“The training you will be doing sounds insane,” George commented as she eagerly dug her fork into the mountain of stir-fried vegetables in front of her.
“I know,” Nancy replied with forced enthusiasm, taking a guilty sip of her wine. “But I’ve been running most mornings and training in the gym, so I should be fine. At least, I hope so,” she shrugged, hating lying to her friends and hoping Bess wouldn’t comment on her rapidly reddening cheeks.
“You’re in great shape, Nan,” George murmured encouragingly, spearing a chunk of red pepper and bringing it to her lips. “If only someone else would take even a fraction of your interest in going to the gym. You know, Bess refused to come spinning with me on Monday night, when we’d made the arrangement weeks ago.”
“Gossip Girl was on,” Bess replied defensively, Nancy smothering her laughter at the look of absolute indignation on Bess’s face. “George, when you can find us a class that is not on a Monday night, I would be more than willing to go. In fact, I’m sure I’d love it.”
“There’s a class on Tuesday night,” George shot back smugly, winking slyly at Nancy before turning to her cousin. “So I guess I can count you in then.”
A look of horror crossed Bess’s face at the suggestion, but she nodded mutely, knowing she was defeated. “Can’t wait,” she sang out mockingly as she drained the end of her glass of wine, excitement suddenly lighting up her eyes. “I’ve just had the best idea,” she declared, pouring herself a generous glass of wine before turning to Nancy and George. “The girls at work were just telling me about this great club that has opened up in town. Jenny’s boyfriend is a part-owner, or something,” she explained dismissively, her face shining with excitement as she took an eager sip of her wine. “Anyway, we should go there. They’re supposed to have the best cocktails. It would be so much fun.”
The thought of going clubbing and the web of lies she would have to spin to explain the uncharacteristic lack of an alcoholic drink in her hand was more than Nancy could handle right then, and she was just trying to come up with a convincing scenario in her head when thankfully George stepped in and her saved her.
“Sorry guys, but I’ve got a tennis match in the morning and I’ll need a clear head. Feel free to go ahead without me, though,” she assured them airily, taking a long drink from her glass of water before turning her attention to the mountain of stir-fried vegetables still heaped in front of her.
“What about you, Nan?” Bess demanded excitedly, turning to her friend with an expectant look. “We could get all dressed up, get Ned to drop us in. It would be so much fun.”
“It wouldn’t be the same without George,” Nancy replied lamely, hoping Bess wouldn’t press the issue. “Maybe we could reschedule for next weekend or something?”
“I suppose you’re right,” Bess allowed grudgingly, spooning the last of her lasagna into her mouth. “I guess I need to start packing for Paris, anyway.”
“You’re going to Paris,” George echoed her cousin’s remark in astonishment as she took a delicate sip from still full glass of wine. “When did all this happen?”
“Yesterday,” Bess bubbled back in excitement as she twisted a blonde curl around her finger. “Bloomingdales want me to preview the summer line of clothes. Apparently Clare pulled out at the last minute so they asked me to go instead. Can you believe it?”
As Bess regaled the girls with her plans for the week she would spend in Paris, Nancy instinctively rested a hand against her still flat stomach, inwardly marveling at the knowledge that inside her belly, her and Ned’s baby was slowly growing. The initial gut-wrenching fear that had consumed her every time she even thought about the pregnancy had slowly subsided and though she still had reservations about the prospect of motherhood, Nancy had to grudgingly admit she was slowly warming to the idea.
Not that she had any choice, she told herself wryly. The baby would be here in six months whether she was ready or not and no amount of wishing that things had turned out differently would change that.
“Nancy, have you listened to a single word I’ve said?”
Startled by her friend’s words, Nancy looked up, Bess and George looking at her in thorough amusement.
“We were just saying that we should order some champagne, to celebrate you finishing up your job and more importantly,” she thrilled, batting her long eyelashes dramatically, “to start getting me used to all the champagne I’ll be drinking in Paris, which hopefully will be in the company of some gorgeous French guy,” she added as an afterthought, her eyes lighting up at the prospect.
Eyeing her now almost-empty wine glass with some guilt, Nancy shook her head regretfully. “Bess, I think I’ll pass on the champagne for now but you go ahead. I wouldn’t want to deny you the head-start on the champagne-drinking practice you’ll need to keep up with all those models.”
Placing her desert fork delicately on her plate, Bess eyed Nancy curiously. “You’re not up for dancing and you’re not drinking. If I didn’t know how allergic you are to babies, I would almost say you were pregnant.”
The teasing expression on Bess’s face instantly disappeared when she saw Nancy’s reaction. “Oh my God. You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”
“I could be,” Nancy lied, when the truth was that she was almost three months pregnant, Nancy tracing back the date of conception to the night of Ned’s Christmas party and the following morning when, hungover, she’d emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet and presumably her pill as well. “I’m not sure,” she was quick to emphasize, hating for her friends to learn the news of her pregnancy before Ned. “Ned doesn’t know,” she added warningly, the remark aimed mostly at Bess, who was known for her complete and utter inability to keep a secret from anyone.
“This is brilliant news, isn’t it?” Bess questioned her friend uncertainly before exchanging a concerned expression with her cousin. “Ned will be over the moon.”
“How is it, Bess?” Nancy demanded wearily, running her fingers distractedly through her long red-blonde hair. “I’m due to start training in a couple of weeks and there’s no way I can do that pregnant.”
“But can’t you defer the acceptance until after you’ve had the baby?” George cut in, gazing at Nancy with sympathetic eyes. “Maybe finally take up Edith on all those offers of babysitting?”
“But it wouldn’t really be babysitting, would it?” Nancy offered quietly, distractedly pushing the tired remains of her salad around the plate. “Training takes twenty weeks and could you imagine the look on Edith’s face if I had the baby, handed it over to her and then said I was heading off to Quantico to train as an FBI agent and I’d see her in a few months and she could ring Ned if there were any problems. She’d probably think I’d completely lost it.” Nancy was unable to resist breaking into laughter at the bemused look on her friend’s faces. “You know, I don’t know why I’m talking to you both about this. It’s not like I’m definitely pregnant or anything,”
“Take a test, Nan,” Bess advised her seriously, resting her hand on her arm and gazing at her in concern. “If you’re pregnant, I will help you design the cutest nursery ever and if you’re not, I will totally expect your presence in Club Zero on Friday night. No excuses accepted,”
“You’re impossible, Bess,” Nancy sighed, though a smile broke across her face as she rummaged in her bag for her purse to pay her portion of the bill.
--
Stepping wearily out of the cab, Nancy’s boots crunched through the snow, her footprints leaving a neat trail behind her as, key in hand, she treaded eagerly up to the front door. Warmed by the alcohol, Nancy was already mentally anticipating a night spent at home with her husband. She might even risk a second glass of wine; the baby book she had guiltily flicked through had practically encouraged the practice, she convinced herself dubiously as she pushed the door open, surprised to find the living room empty and the television not blaring the usual football game from the television.
“Hey babe, I’m home,” Nancy called out, shrugging out of her coat and draping it over the banister of the stairs before shaking out the layer of loose snowflakes that had settled on her hair.
Nancy could hear the sound of the shower running overhead and, wandering into the sitting room, she collapsed gratefully onto the sofa, relishing the almost suffocating warmth of the house that spread throughout her body, slowly defrosting her frozen limbs. Reaching wearily for the remote, Nancy switched on the television, flicking methodically through the channels droning out the usual Friday night forced fun entertainment until she reached Channel Four news. Nancy was instantly transfixed as the camera zoomed in unnecessarily on a pair of body bags being removed from a house.
Like most of the residents of Chicago, Nancy had been following the series of Riverside murders with a mixed sense of both awe and fear. The yellow tape stretched outside the house, the flashing blue lights of the police cars, and the dozens of uniformed police officers traipsing through the frosted garden of the house all conjured up a nightmarish image of the blood drenched chaos that had awaited the teenaged friends when they had innocently arrived on the scene, expecting a party but finding the bloodied remains of their friends instead.
“Hey babe,” Ned greeted her in surprise, wandering over to the sofa and pressing a kiss against her lips. “What are you doing home so early? I thought you were heading out with the girls.”
Distracted, Nancy could only nod, her attention completely focused on the newscaster on the screen relaying the horrific events of the day.
“Nan?” Ned tried again, his expression patient as he took a seat on the sofa beside her and rested an arm lightly around her shoulder.
As the news report momentarily broke for commercials, Nancy turned to glance softly at her husband, reveling momentarily in the familiar scent of his aftershave as she melted into his arms. “You didn’t need to go to all this trouble for me, babe,” she joked lovingly as she traced a finger along his freshly shaved face. “Not that I’m complaining. Maybe we can have an early night. Bring a bottle of wine to bed,” she hinted seductively, bringing her lips to his and kissing him deeply.
“Yeah about that, Nan," Ned winced uncomfortably. “You said you were meeting the girls tonight so I’ve kind of made plans with the guys. Play some cards, that kind of thing. Fuck, I wish I’d said nothing now. Maybe I’ll just ring Mike and cancel,” he muttered uncertainly, his eyes lingering on the ample display of cleavage Nancy was displaying.
“Don’t,” Nancy insisted, knowing how hard Ned had worked in recent weeks and how little time he’d spent with his friends. “You never see the guys anymore. You deserve to have some fun. Just don’t be too late, okay?”
Still looking a little undecided, Ned shoved his phone into his pocket before pulling Nancy into a warm hug. “Are you sure, Nan?” he murmured, his lips warm against hers as he kissed her softly.
“Totally,” she smiled brightly, pressing her lips softly against his for a final time before pushing him playfully towards the door.
--
Hours later, Nancy lay contentedly in bed, staring numbly at the snowflakes that drifted lazily through the open window. The air was bitterly cold and, snuggled under the warmth of her heavy layer of blankets, the effect was comforting.
Ned would be delighted with the news, Nancy knew. It had always surprised her how good her husband was with friends’ babies, considering the lack of experience he had had with children himself. Where most men would shy away from talk of babies, Ned had always responded eagerly.
It would be all right, Nancy concluded with false optimism, her happiness fading a little at the thoughts of having to forfeit her future career with the FBI for days spent at home with a baby.
But the baby might be a boy, Nancy considered happily, a smile playing across her face at the thought of giving birth to a baby son that Ned could play baseball with and talk football with the second the child was old enough to understand or even before, Nancy imagined with a grin, tucking the blankets tightly under her chin.
Turning on to her side, Nancy gazed sleepily at the blinking red of the alarm clock and noticed it was almost three o’ clock.
Ned will be home soon and I’ll tell him then, Nancy decided, struggling to keep her eyes open as the accumulation of weeks of sleepless night were finally wreaking havoc on her.
Snuggling deeply into the blankets, Nancy’s eyes drooped slowly closed and by the time the clock reached three, she had already fallen fast asleep.
--
Light streaming into the room alerted Nancy to the fact that something wasn’t quite right as she slowly roused herself to consciousness, the space in the bed normally occupied by her husband cold and empty.
Ned, she thought blearily, pulling herself up in the bed, clutching the blanket protectively around her bare skin, the open window exposing her to the bitter morning air.
Grabbing her cell phone, Nancy punched in the digits, groaning in annoyance as the phone bleated back the same monotonous ringtone before finally breaking into voicemail.
Pick up, babe, she thought frantically, pressing the redial button and almost breaking down into tears as the call yet again broke into voicemail.
Ned wasn’t like most of the other guys her friends complained about. He was considerate and sweet and would never stay out all night without at least contacting her.
Something must have happened to him, Nancy decided immediately as she reached instinctively to turn on the radio, her cell still clutched in her hand.
The newscaster reeled out the latest developments on the cheerleader murders from the previous day and that at least was comforting, the human side of Nancy failing but to be affected by the grisly violence of the Riverside murderer.
Pressing determinedly on the redial button again, Nancy’s heart almost stopped in relief as her husband’s familiar tones drifted blearily down the phone.
“What’s wrong, Nan,” he answered sleepily, Ned obviously completely unaware as she was overcome by a sudden burst of rage.
“What’s wrong, Ned,” Nancy shot back hotly hating the whining tone that had suddenly and inexplicably crept into her voice. “What’s wrong, is that my husband somehow completely forgot to come home last night. I was almost out of my mind worrying about you. Where the hell are you, anyway?”
“Still at Mike’s,” Ned replied sheepishly. “Look Nan, I know you don’t want to hear this but we all drank way too much last night and I ended up staying in the guest room. I know I should have called you. I’m so sorry, babe,” he added with heartfelt sincerity and Nancy had to almost instruct herself not to forgive her husband on the spot at the almost pathetic level of remorse in his voice.
“Look, Ned, I’ve made arrangements to spend the day with Bess,” Nancy replied in clipped tones, commanding herself to retain control over her already frayed emotions. “I’ll see you later.”
“But I’ll be home in a minute, Nan,” Ned pleaded and Nancy closed her eyes, afraid what would come out of her mouth if she’d dared respond.
Sliding her phone shut, Nancy banged the hard plastic onto the bedside table, dressing quickly before stomping out of the house, pulling the front door out forcefully behind her.
Author:glasheen25
Pairing/Characters:Nancy/Ned, Nancy/Frank
Series:post-files
Word Count:3271
Rating:R
Summary:In the first instance Ned misses his flight, missing Nancy's birthday in the process. In the second instance Ned makes his flight, arriving on time. How a seemingly inconsequential event could lead Nancy's life in two completely different directions.
Spoilers:None
Warnings:None
Pushing in the door of the restaurant, a bell hanging over the entrance tinkled her arrival as Nancy slid gratefully into the comforting warmth of the dining room. Candles flickered gently on the tables, a coal fire blazed in the grate and the whole effect was comforting against the inky black of the night that seeped in through the narrow curtained windows. Discovering she was the first to reach the restaurant, Nancy was inwardly glad to take a moment to relax before she would be besieged by her friends. Unbuttoning her coat, Nancy draped it over the back of her chair before she sat gracefully down, picking up the leather bound menu as a matter of course, the action being entirely unnecessary as the girls knew the short choice of dishes off by heart.
“Hey, Nan.”
Hearing the familiar chorus of voices, an eager smile spread across Nancy’s face as she looked up to see her friends approaching the table. Fashion conscious as ever, Bess tottered across the wooden floor in heels, a miraculous achievement considering the streets were like glass outside. Following her was a rather more sensible George, the girl wearing heavy boots and blowing fiercely into her hands, presumably to warm them.
“What the hell is going on with the weather?” George grumbled discontentedly as she unzipped her coat and slid into the booth across from Nancy. “I feel like hibernating and not reemerging until all this goddamn snow has cleared. It’s really messing with my training for the marathon next month.”
“I know,” Bess nodded in complete agreement, her blonde curls bobbing up and down in unison. “I so wasn’t expecting this. I just spent a fortune on these gorgeous Louboutin shoes and they are going to be so last season by the time I’m going to get to wear them.”
Shooting a look of disgust at her cousin, George shrugged out of her heavy winter jacket before turning her attention to Nancy. “Well, how does it feel to be finally released from Alcatraz?” she demanded jokingly, her comments echoing Nancy’s previous comparisons between her job at Mc Kenzie and Baker and a convict serving a life sentence in prison.
“Good, I mean fantastic,” she amended hurriedly, plastering a smile across her face as the waitress carefully poured wine into their glasses, Nancy eyeing her glass to make sure the dark-haired waitress was not too heavy handed when she was pouring the red liquid into hers.
The meeting between the friends was to serve as a celebration of sorts, Nancy having finally finished out her days at Mc Kenzie and Baker, and Bess and George always eager for any excuse to get together, no matter how frivolous the affair. Now free of her obligation to the firm, Nancy had to admit she didn’t feel as excited as she should have felt. Not that that was a surprise. When Nancy had imagined leaving her internship in the law firm, she had envisioned embarking out on her lifelong dream of training to be an FBI agent. The notion of her becoming pregnant in the interim had never even figured in, and for good reason; the mere thought of her turning up in Quantico cradling a five-month-pregnant belly was laughable.
“The training you will be doing sounds insane,” George commented as she eagerly dug her fork into the mountain of stir-fried vegetables in front of her.
“I know,” Nancy replied with forced enthusiasm, taking a guilty sip of her wine. “But I’ve been running most mornings and training in the gym, so I should be fine. At least, I hope so,” she shrugged, hating lying to her friends and hoping Bess wouldn’t comment on her rapidly reddening cheeks.
“You’re in great shape, Nan,” George murmured encouragingly, spearing a chunk of red pepper and bringing it to her lips. “If only someone else would take even a fraction of your interest in going to the gym. You know, Bess refused to come spinning with me on Monday night, when we’d made the arrangement weeks ago.”
“Gossip Girl was on,” Bess replied defensively, Nancy smothering her laughter at the look of absolute indignation on Bess’s face. “George, when you can find us a class that is not on a Monday night, I would be more than willing to go. In fact, I’m sure I’d love it.”
“There’s a class on Tuesday night,” George shot back smugly, winking slyly at Nancy before turning to her cousin. “So I guess I can count you in then.”
A look of horror crossed Bess’s face at the suggestion, but she nodded mutely, knowing she was defeated. “Can’t wait,” she sang out mockingly as she drained the end of her glass of wine, excitement suddenly lighting up her eyes. “I’ve just had the best idea,” she declared, pouring herself a generous glass of wine before turning to Nancy and George. “The girls at work were just telling me about this great club that has opened up in town. Jenny’s boyfriend is a part-owner, or something,” she explained dismissively, her face shining with excitement as she took an eager sip of her wine. “Anyway, we should go there. They’re supposed to have the best cocktails. It would be so much fun.”
The thought of going clubbing and the web of lies she would have to spin to explain the uncharacteristic lack of an alcoholic drink in her hand was more than Nancy could handle right then, and she was just trying to come up with a convincing scenario in her head when thankfully George stepped in and her saved her.
“Sorry guys, but I’ve got a tennis match in the morning and I’ll need a clear head. Feel free to go ahead without me, though,” she assured them airily, taking a long drink from her glass of water before turning her attention to the mountain of stir-fried vegetables still heaped in front of her.
“What about you, Nan?” Bess demanded excitedly, turning to her friend with an expectant look. “We could get all dressed up, get Ned to drop us in. It would be so much fun.”
“It wouldn’t be the same without George,” Nancy replied lamely, hoping Bess wouldn’t press the issue. “Maybe we could reschedule for next weekend or something?”
“I suppose you’re right,” Bess allowed grudgingly, spooning the last of her lasagna into her mouth. “I guess I need to start packing for Paris, anyway.”
“You’re going to Paris,” George echoed her cousin’s remark in astonishment as she took a delicate sip from still full glass of wine. “When did all this happen?”
“Yesterday,” Bess bubbled back in excitement as she twisted a blonde curl around her finger. “Bloomingdales want me to preview the summer line of clothes. Apparently Clare pulled out at the last minute so they asked me to go instead. Can you believe it?”
As Bess regaled the girls with her plans for the week she would spend in Paris, Nancy instinctively rested a hand against her still flat stomach, inwardly marveling at the knowledge that inside her belly, her and Ned’s baby was slowly growing. The initial gut-wrenching fear that had consumed her every time she even thought about the pregnancy had slowly subsided and though she still had reservations about the prospect of motherhood, Nancy had to grudgingly admit she was slowly warming to the idea.
Not that she had any choice, she told herself wryly. The baby would be here in six months whether she was ready or not and no amount of wishing that things had turned out differently would change that.
“Nancy, have you listened to a single word I’ve said?”
Startled by her friend’s words, Nancy looked up, Bess and George looking at her in thorough amusement.
“We were just saying that we should order some champagne, to celebrate you finishing up your job and more importantly,” she thrilled, batting her long eyelashes dramatically, “to start getting me used to all the champagne I’ll be drinking in Paris, which hopefully will be in the company of some gorgeous French guy,” she added as an afterthought, her eyes lighting up at the prospect.
Eyeing her now almost-empty wine glass with some guilt, Nancy shook her head regretfully. “Bess, I think I’ll pass on the champagne for now but you go ahead. I wouldn’t want to deny you the head-start on the champagne-drinking practice you’ll need to keep up with all those models.”
Placing her desert fork delicately on her plate, Bess eyed Nancy curiously. “You’re not up for dancing and you’re not drinking. If I didn’t know how allergic you are to babies, I would almost say you were pregnant.”
The teasing expression on Bess’s face instantly disappeared when she saw Nancy’s reaction. “Oh my God. You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”
“I could be,” Nancy lied, when the truth was that she was almost three months pregnant, Nancy tracing back the date of conception to the night of Ned’s Christmas party and the following morning when, hungover, she’d emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet and presumably her pill as well. “I’m not sure,” she was quick to emphasize, hating for her friends to learn the news of her pregnancy before Ned. “Ned doesn’t know,” she added warningly, the remark aimed mostly at Bess, who was known for her complete and utter inability to keep a secret from anyone.
“This is brilliant news, isn’t it?” Bess questioned her friend uncertainly before exchanging a concerned expression with her cousin. “Ned will be over the moon.”
“How is it, Bess?” Nancy demanded wearily, running her fingers distractedly through her long red-blonde hair. “I’m due to start training in a couple of weeks and there’s no way I can do that pregnant.”
“But can’t you defer the acceptance until after you’ve had the baby?” George cut in, gazing at Nancy with sympathetic eyes. “Maybe finally take up Edith on all those offers of babysitting?”
“But it wouldn’t really be babysitting, would it?” Nancy offered quietly, distractedly pushing the tired remains of her salad around the plate. “Training takes twenty weeks and could you imagine the look on Edith’s face if I had the baby, handed it over to her and then said I was heading off to Quantico to train as an FBI agent and I’d see her in a few months and she could ring Ned if there were any problems. She’d probably think I’d completely lost it.” Nancy was unable to resist breaking into laughter at the bemused look on her friend’s faces. “You know, I don’t know why I’m talking to you both about this. It’s not like I’m definitely pregnant or anything,”
“Take a test, Nan,” Bess advised her seriously, resting her hand on her arm and gazing at her in concern. “If you’re pregnant, I will help you design the cutest nursery ever and if you’re not, I will totally expect your presence in Club Zero on Friday night. No excuses accepted,”
“You’re impossible, Bess,” Nancy sighed, though a smile broke across her face as she rummaged in her bag for her purse to pay her portion of the bill.
--
Stepping wearily out of the cab, Nancy’s boots crunched through the snow, her footprints leaving a neat trail behind her as, key in hand, she treaded eagerly up to the front door. Warmed by the alcohol, Nancy was already mentally anticipating a night spent at home with her husband. She might even risk a second glass of wine; the baby book she had guiltily flicked through had practically encouraged the practice, she convinced herself dubiously as she pushed the door open, surprised to find the living room empty and the television not blaring the usual football game from the television.
“Hey babe, I’m home,” Nancy called out, shrugging out of her coat and draping it over the banister of the stairs before shaking out the layer of loose snowflakes that had settled on her hair.
Nancy could hear the sound of the shower running overhead and, wandering into the sitting room, she collapsed gratefully onto the sofa, relishing the almost suffocating warmth of the house that spread throughout her body, slowly defrosting her frozen limbs. Reaching wearily for the remote, Nancy switched on the television, flicking methodically through the channels droning out the usual Friday night forced fun entertainment until she reached Channel Four news. Nancy was instantly transfixed as the camera zoomed in unnecessarily on a pair of body bags being removed from a house.
Like most of the residents of Chicago, Nancy had been following the series of Riverside murders with a mixed sense of both awe and fear. The yellow tape stretched outside the house, the flashing blue lights of the police cars, and the dozens of uniformed police officers traipsing through the frosted garden of the house all conjured up a nightmarish image of the blood drenched chaos that had awaited the teenaged friends when they had innocently arrived on the scene, expecting a party but finding the bloodied remains of their friends instead.
“Hey babe,” Ned greeted her in surprise, wandering over to the sofa and pressing a kiss against her lips. “What are you doing home so early? I thought you were heading out with the girls.”
Distracted, Nancy could only nod, her attention completely focused on the newscaster on the screen relaying the horrific events of the day.
“Nan?” Ned tried again, his expression patient as he took a seat on the sofa beside her and rested an arm lightly around her shoulder.
As the news report momentarily broke for commercials, Nancy turned to glance softly at her husband, reveling momentarily in the familiar scent of his aftershave as she melted into his arms. “You didn’t need to go to all this trouble for me, babe,” she joked lovingly as she traced a finger along his freshly shaved face. “Not that I’m complaining. Maybe we can have an early night. Bring a bottle of wine to bed,” she hinted seductively, bringing her lips to his and kissing him deeply.
“Yeah about that, Nan," Ned winced uncomfortably. “You said you were meeting the girls tonight so I’ve kind of made plans with the guys. Play some cards, that kind of thing. Fuck, I wish I’d said nothing now. Maybe I’ll just ring Mike and cancel,” he muttered uncertainly, his eyes lingering on the ample display of cleavage Nancy was displaying.
“Don’t,” Nancy insisted, knowing how hard Ned had worked in recent weeks and how little time he’d spent with his friends. “You never see the guys anymore. You deserve to have some fun. Just don’t be too late, okay?”
Still looking a little undecided, Ned shoved his phone into his pocket before pulling Nancy into a warm hug. “Are you sure, Nan?” he murmured, his lips warm against hers as he kissed her softly.
“Totally,” she smiled brightly, pressing her lips softly against his for a final time before pushing him playfully towards the door.
--
Hours later, Nancy lay contentedly in bed, staring numbly at the snowflakes that drifted lazily through the open window. The air was bitterly cold and, snuggled under the warmth of her heavy layer of blankets, the effect was comforting.
Ned would be delighted with the news, Nancy knew. It had always surprised her how good her husband was with friends’ babies, considering the lack of experience he had had with children himself. Where most men would shy away from talk of babies, Ned had always responded eagerly.
It would be all right, Nancy concluded with false optimism, her happiness fading a little at the thoughts of having to forfeit her future career with the FBI for days spent at home with a baby.
But the baby might be a boy, Nancy considered happily, a smile playing across her face at the thought of giving birth to a baby son that Ned could play baseball with and talk football with the second the child was old enough to understand or even before, Nancy imagined with a grin, tucking the blankets tightly under her chin.
Turning on to her side, Nancy gazed sleepily at the blinking red of the alarm clock and noticed it was almost three o’ clock.
Ned will be home soon and I’ll tell him then, Nancy decided, struggling to keep her eyes open as the accumulation of weeks of sleepless night were finally wreaking havoc on her.
Snuggling deeply into the blankets, Nancy’s eyes drooped slowly closed and by the time the clock reached three, she had already fallen fast asleep.
--
Light streaming into the room alerted Nancy to the fact that something wasn’t quite right as she slowly roused herself to consciousness, the space in the bed normally occupied by her husband cold and empty.
Ned, she thought blearily, pulling herself up in the bed, clutching the blanket protectively around her bare skin, the open window exposing her to the bitter morning air.
Grabbing her cell phone, Nancy punched in the digits, groaning in annoyance as the phone bleated back the same monotonous ringtone before finally breaking into voicemail.
Pick up, babe, she thought frantically, pressing the redial button and almost breaking down into tears as the call yet again broke into voicemail.
Ned wasn’t like most of the other guys her friends complained about. He was considerate and sweet and would never stay out all night without at least contacting her.
Something must have happened to him, Nancy decided immediately as she reached instinctively to turn on the radio, her cell still clutched in her hand.
The newscaster reeled out the latest developments on the cheerleader murders from the previous day and that at least was comforting, the human side of Nancy failing but to be affected by the grisly violence of the Riverside murderer.
Pressing determinedly on the redial button again, Nancy’s heart almost stopped in relief as her husband’s familiar tones drifted blearily down the phone.
“What’s wrong, Nan,” he answered sleepily, Ned obviously completely unaware as she was overcome by a sudden burst of rage.
“What’s wrong, Ned,” Nancy shot back hotly hating the whining tone that had suddenly and inexplicably crept into her voice. “What’s wrong, is that my husband somehow completely forgot to come home last night. I was almost out of my mind worrying about you. Where the hell are you, anyway?”
“Still at Mike’s,” Ned replied sheepishly. “Look Nan, I know you don’t want to hear this but we all drank way too much last night and I ended up staying in the guest room. I know I should have called you. I’m so sorry, babe,” he added with heartfelt sincerity and Nancy had to almost instruct herself not to forgive her husband on the spot at the almost pathetic level of remorse in his voice.
“Look, Ned, I’ve made arrangements to spend the day with Bess,” Nancy replied in clipped tones, commanding herself to retain control over her already frayed emotions. “I’ll see you later.”
“But I’ll be home in a minute, Nan,” Ned pleaded and Nancy closed her eyes, afraid what would come out of her mouth if she’d dared respond.
Sliding her phone shut, Nancy banged the hard plastic onto the bedside table, dressing quickly before stomping out of the house, pulling the front door out forcefully behind her.