Page 4 of Nineteen Seventy-Six

He appeared surprised. “Colin? Colin’s in trouble?”

“He could be. It’s not something he did,” Colleen added quickly. “But it affects him directly, and he must never know about this. Ever.” She looked at both her old friends, one by one. “I mean it. If you tell me to go fly a kite, you still can never repeat what I’m about to tell you. I’m taking a huge risk, on someone else’s behalf, even in coming here.”

“When have I ever told you to go fly a kite?” Rory asked.

“Colleen, I don’t like where this is going,” Carolina said as she poured them each a glass of her homemade lemonade.

“But do you promise?”

“Yes, but—”

“No, Car. There is no ‘but’ here. You either promise, or you don’t. If you don’t, Noah and I will take you out to dinner tonight, and we can catch up on our lives and enjoy the rest of our visit as old friends making up for lost time. But I can’t tell you what I’m about to say without your utmost vow of secrecy.”

“Jesus,” Rory whispered. “Is it that bad?”

“Do you promise?”

He looked ready to rebut again, but instead nodded. “Yes, I promise.”

“Carolina?”

“Yes… yes, I suppose. I promise.”

“It’s only bad,” Colleen answered, satisfied in their faithfulness, “if there’s no solution.”

Charles groaned as the orgasm left his body in a series of shuddering spurts. Lisette smiled evenly and waited for him to completely finish before rolling out of bed, sheet wrapped around her tiny, lithe body, and heading to the bathroom to clean herself up.

If he didn’t know better, he’d think their sex had become more dutiful than passionate from her end, but he did know better. She loved him, as much as he loved her. How could she not?

“I will check later for pregnancy,” she called from the bathroom. The toilet flushed. “Charles? You hear?”

“Yes, I hear!” he called back, frowning into the pillow. He didn’t like the way she talked about their future child, like he or she was a business transaction and not a beautiful life, binding their little family together and making it ever more real. “But you just checked yesterday. It’s not too soon?”

“Never too soon,” Lisette said, appearing in the doorway, now fully clothed. So much for a second round. Last time he’d tried to proposition her after she was all cleaned up, she’d told him only animals couldn’t control themselves. “You want a baby. I want to give you happy news.”

“We want a baby,” he reminded her.

Lisette reached for the clip on the dresser, the one that held her hair back so Nicolas couldn’t rip at it with his strong fists. “Nicolas needs me.”

“I can go to him.”

“No,” she said, securing the clip. “My job.”

Charles licked his lips and rolled back in the bed, exposing what used to be a chiseled chest, in his heyday. “I have another job for you.”

The impatience that flashed across her eyes wounded him. Like he was a child, no different than her charge. “Later. I promise.”

“I love you,” he called, but she was already gone.

Charles turned to the clock. Nine already. Colin would be here soon. He wished there were a delicate way to turn his friend down, but there wasn’t, not with circumstances what they were now, with Catherine ignoring her husband’s calls; his pleas to see her, or their son.

Catherine.

Always fucking Catherine.

Colleen explained all she knew about the situation, which was less than she would’ve liked, playing the role of problem solver. She told them that the marriage between Colin and Catherine, according to the latter, had been on thin ice since the birth of Oz. That the differences always existing between them grew wider and more pronounced, with Colin throwing himself deeper into his work, and Catherine seeking validation elsewhere.

Namely, with Charles.

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