Page 16 of Both Sides Now

"The very best."

"What made you decide to have a child now? I'm not judging; I'm simply curious. Are you involved with someone?"

"It's just me. Charlie battled pancreatic cancer for two years. It was terribly aggressive, but he never gave up hope. Even when we knew there was no chance, he would still sit and talk about our future … as if we were going to have one." I swipe at the dampness on my cheeks, surprised by my tears’ sudden appearance. "I'm sorry. I try not to talk about him."

"Why not?"

"No one wants to hear stories of a grieving widow. After six months, people expect you to bounce back to your old form. By the time you're twenty months out like me, even your closest friends tire of the repeating sorrow reel."

"You refer to it like a prison sentence."

I grab up my napkin, embarrassed by my open display of emotion. What is it about this man and his direct but sensitive disposition that pries apart the walls I so carefully erected after Charlie's death? Talk about an incredible bedside manner.

"Isn't it? Perhaps that sounds morbid, but that's the way I look at it most days. Until recently, anyway."

He has the most expressive eyes, but I can tell he isn't certain what I mean by my last statement.

To be honest, neither am I. Is it the idea of having Charlie's baby or the handsome and kind man with whom I'm sharing coffee? That's the thing with loneliness. You never know what triggers it, and often, you never realize what will soothe it.

"You think having a baby will bring back some of your joie de vivre?"

"One can hope. I'm sorry, Keegan. This is why I don't interact with people. I always end up talking about Charlie, and that kills any chance for fun. See? I ruined our little outing, too."

He reaches across the table, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. "No, you didn't. You helped me understand you more. I always have questions for my patients, wondering about their reasons. But, I've learned it’s better not to ask."

"Yet you asked me."

"You're different."

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment or an insult." I’m also not sure I want to know.

Keegan shifts in his seat and I swear a hint of color crawls up his cheeks. "Trust me, it's a compliment. I think you'd be a great mom, and I can't say that about every woman. You have your nurturing instinct down pat, along with what I surmise is a kick-ass left hook."

"Actually, it's an uppercut." I fiddle with my spoon, my gaze downward. "Do you think I'm crazy?"

"For wanting a baby?" He shakes his head, his expression devoid of emotion. "Most women want a baby."

"For wanting my husband's baby."

He leans back, a look of realization flashing across his face. "I didn't realize that was an option. I don't think it's crazy at all, Callista. It makes sense. You want to continue his legacy."

"Exactly. He deserves the chance to live on." I try to gauge Keegan's opinion of my revelation, but aside from his forced smile, he's playing it cool. Time to move him to the hot seat. "Do you have children?"

"No." That's a short and clipped reply.

"Do you plan to?"

"Again, no."

I should stop pressing him. It's obvious this is a touchy subject. But anyone who knows me knows that I read all the warning signs … and then ignore them as I walk past. "Why not? You spend your days helping people become parents. Hasn't baby fever hit you yet?”

He shakes his head, downing the last of his coffee. "No, and it won't either. I've no interest in having a family."

"Does your girlfriend know that?"

"She does, but she's not my girlfriend. She's a woman I date. Big difference."

"Sounds like the difference is semantics."

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