Lightning by Danielle Steel Read Free Book Online

was smiling at her.
    “They're cute. Hilary has one. Or maybe I'll be Tinker Bell … or the Little Mermaid.”
    “I'll go to F.A.O. Schwarz on my lunch hour next week and see what I can find. Okay?” And then she remembered the trial. She'd have to do it before Wednesday or wait till the trial was over. Or maybe Liz Hascomb could call them and see what they had in Annabelle's size. Alex always had to be artful about using her time to its best advantage.
    “What are we doing for Halloween?” Sam had strolled back into the room in jeans and a dark green sweater.
    “I thought we'd go trick-or-treating in the building, like last year,” Alex explained, and he nodded. She was wearing a pink terry-cloth bathrobe with a pink towel on her head, and she put Annabelle's nightie on, and turned her over to Sam, so she could go out to the kitchen and check on dinner.
    There was a chicken in the oven, baked potatoes in the microwave, green beans sautéing in a pan, and Carmen was about ready to leave them. She stayed later when they went out, but if they were staying home, she often started dinner for them, and then left. Or Alex and Sam would cook dinner themselves when they both got back from the office.
    “Thanks for everything.” Alex smiled at her, and Carmen smiled back. “I'm going to need lots of help next week, Carmen. I'm going to trial on Wednesday.”
    “Sure. I help you, I can stay late. No problem.” She knew about their efforts toward having another baby too, and she was disappointed it had not yet happened. She loved babies, and kids. At fifty-seven, she had had six kids and two husbands, and at last count she had seventeen grandchildren. She had a fall life in Queens, but she loved working for the Parkers in Manhattan.
    “See you tomorrow,” Alex called out when Carmen left. The table was set, the dinner smelled wonderful. Alex went to put on jeans and a shirt herself. And five minutes later, she called Annabelle and Sam to dinner. They ate at an old rustic table in the kitchen, the place mats were clean and pretty, and the candles were lit. Sometimes they ate in the dining room, but most of the time they ate in the kitchen, and most nights they ate with Annabelle, except when they came home late, or went out to dinner. But they both enjoyed their meals with her. She was good company and they thought their time together was important.
    She chatted on busily through the evening, and Sam helped Alex clean up the dishes, while Annabelle played, and then he watched the last of the news, while Alex read Annabelle a bedtime story. She was in bed and asleep by eight o'clock, and the evening was theirs. Alex was about to sit down next to him on the leather couch in the study when she remembered the ovulation detection kit again and went to do it. It showed only that she had not yet had the hormone surge that preceded ovulation, and there was no way to predict when it would happen. Except that she knew that with the hormones she was on, it was likely to be fairly regular and happen, as she had predicted, on Saturday or Sunday, which was still two or three days away. They had been advised to be sure not to have been abstinent for more than five days before ovulation, but not to do it immediately before either, or it would lower Sam's sperm count. It took the spontaneity out of their sex life, but they enjoyed each other anyway, and Sam had been a terrifically good sport about their efforts in pursuit of a baby. He had also been told not to drink excessively right before she ovulated, and never to use a hot tub or a sauna. Heat killed sperm, and he teased her sometimes about wearing ice packs in his shorts, which he knew couples with fertility problems sometimes did. But they didn't have a “problem,” there was nothing wrong with them. Alex was forty-two years old, and it was taking time to get pregnant.
    “So, are my services needed tonight?” he asked good-humoredly as she sat down next to him on the couch in the