FORTY-NINE

Jon’s mouth curved into an adoring smile as he watched her.

Cate was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, her form cast in light and shadow.  She seemed to glow, not just a reflection of the city lights.  Her own gentle smile illuminated her lovely face.

Glancing once more at the flame now flickering in the firebox, Jon strolled over to his wife.  She purred softly as he stepped up behind her and circled her waist with his arms.  Together they swayed in an affectionate hug as he molded his body against hers.

“I had a nice time tonight.”  Jon’s comment was soft in her ear.  He rested his chin on her shoulder.

She sighed happily.  “Me too.”

“You liked the movie, huh?”

“I loved it.  The ending was perfect.  Honest, realistic, but not a complete downer.”  She tipped her head sideways against his.  “Only one thing would have made it better.”

“What’s that?”

She giggled softly.  “If you were in it.”

Jon grinned.  “Yeah, well.  Not for lack of tryin’.  Guess I’m too old and too short to play the dashing hero.”

“Well, to be fair… the movie was about college-aged kids.”  Cate chortled softly.  “Guess you coulda played one of their Dads...”

“Ouch.”  Jon winced playfully, then gave her cheek a nuzzle.  “Nah, it’s okay.  Think after I finish this run on the series I’m hanging up the actor’s hat.”

“Why?”

“ ‘Cause.  It’s about time for another record, which will mean another tour.” Jon’s arms tightened gently around her middle.  “And I want to be sure I have plenty of time for our other little project when she comes along.”

“Mmmm….” Cate’s arms settled over Jon’s.  “How’s that gonna work if you’re on tour?”

“I’ll bring you along.  Both of you.”  Jon’s answer was gently matter-of-fact.

“Oh really?”  Cate chuckled.  “I’m sure the last thing a rock tour needs is a baby on board.”

“So we’ll get a couple of those yellow suction-cup signs.  Stick ‘em up on the plane window.  Maybe the trucks too.  And the road cases.  It can be the ‘Baby on Board Tour’.”

His silly suggestion made her laugh.  “You know, it might take a little more planning than that.”

“Yeah, you might be right.”

“Besides, I don’t think I have enough vacation to go out on a full-blown tour.  My boss would probably frown on that.  And I don’t think another leave of absence is the best idea.”

Jon opened his mouth to contradict her, then paused.  Cate had just given him the perfect opening to bring up the topic they both avoided.  But he just couldn’t bring himself to do it, to darken this lovely evening with certain controversy.

So instead he changed the subject.

“You never told me what happened earlier tonight.”

“Hmmm?”

"At the movie theater.  In the ladies' room."

"Oh.  It was nothing."  Cate gave a little shrug.  "I've already forgotten about it."

"Baby, it wasn't nothing. That was pretty clear from the way you came strutting out of there."  Jon chuckled.  "And you've been grinning ever since.  So what was the deal?"

"Really, Baby, it was no big thing.  I just had a few words with a couple girls in the bathroom is all."  Cate's lips curved again into a smug smirk despite her nonchalant answer. 

"You mean like an argument?"  Jon's brow arched with concern.  "What about?"

"No, nothing like that.  It was pretty one-sided.  In fact, I don't think they even said a  word to me."  Cate chuckled.  "They were kinda shocked, actually."

Jon lifted his chin from her shoulder and craned his neck to look at her face.  "Uh oh.  That doesn't sound good."

Cate turned her head to look at him, her blue eyes sparkling in the dim light.  "Nah... it was okay.  Actually..."  She giggled softly.  "It kinda felt... good."

Jon's mouth twisted wryly.  "So you said when you came outta there.  Now will you tell me what the fuck happened?" 

She returned her gaze to the cityscape, her lips still curved in amusement.  "Okay.  So I went into the bathroom.  It was small, only three stalls.  Two of them were occupied, I went in the third.  The two women in the other stalls were having a conversation back and forth, so I couldn't help but overhear."

"Okay."  Jon grinned.  "Not exactly the kinda stuff that goes on in men's rooms, but I get it."

Cate giggled at his comment before continuing.  "Anyway, I could tell from their voices and they way they talked that they were young, maybe mid-twenties.  They were chattering about the celebrities they had seen, what they were wearing, stuff like that."

Jon smiled, now able to see where she was going with her tale.  "And which celebrities were they talking about?"

"Oh, you know, the usual... Chris Noth, Emily Blunt.... You."

"Ah.  And what did they say about me that got you all riled up?" 

"Nothing.  Well, not exactly nothing..."  Cate sighed softly.  "It started out with the usual... you looked handsome, hot for your age..."  She giggled.  "One girl thought you were fifty-five."

"Great."  Jon rolled his eyes with an exaggerated groan.

Cate patted Jon's arm.  "Don't worry, the other one set her straight.  Said she had a friend who tried to crash your birthday party a few weeks ago."

"And that's what made you angry?"

"No.  And who said I was angry?"

"Well, you did confront them, right?"

"Not about that.  I'm getting to it."

"Okay.  Go on."  Jon tipped his head, now listening more intently to his wife's narrative.

"Anyway... they said you looked great, and one asked who you were with on the red carpet.  The other chick said you were with your wife.  The first girl didn't believe her, said she thought you were divorced."

Jon nodded, this time holding his tongue.

"So they debated about it for a second or two, then one girl came out of her stall to wash her hands.  I was about to go out too, when I heard the first girl tell her friend she was Googling.... ME."  Cate paused to look at Jon's face, seeing the expected surprise in his expression.

Jon's mouth opened a second before he spoke.  "She Googled you?"

"Yep.  She couldn't remember my name.  But she found it pretty quick.  And guess what else she found?"

"I don't..."  Jon shook his head.

Cate smiled at his befuddlement.  She could see he was picturing the scene in his head.  "She found photos, Jon.  Pictures of you and me on the beach in Saint Barth.  And the headlines that went with them."

Jon's brow furrowed as he tried to recall the headlines, then he frowned as he remembered.  "All the pregnancy speculation."

"Yeah.  With the stupid hooks.  You know, like 'Baby Bon-Bon'?"  Cate's tone was sarcastic as she parroted out one of the tabloid puns.  "So then they started wondering if I really am pregnant.  They sounded... shocked."

"Why?"

Cate's jaw tightened as she answered Jon's question, though her voice was calm and matter-of-fact.  "Because apparently I'm too old to get pregnant.  You know, because I've gotta be close to fifty."  She snorted.  "At least they said I looked good for my age, too."

"And those girls are just talking about this out loud, not knowing there was somebody else in the bathroom listening?"  Now Jon's voice had a hard edge.  His arms automatically tightened protectively around her.

Cate couldn't help but smile at his reaction.  "They probably realized they weren't alone.  But they had NO idea the person they were talking about was in the next stall. I mean, what are the odds of that?"  She chuckled quietly.

"So you came out and confronted them because they were talking shit about you?"

Cate shook her head, making her thick auburn locks slide over her shoulder.  "No.  At that point I was just going to stay in my little box and wait for them to leave.  But then..."

"Then what?"

"Then they said something that pushed my buttons.  Not specifically about me, but... well, it was a generalization, but it pissed me off."

"What?"

Cate sighed, her tone hardening at the memory.  "One of them said 'Oh, you know how those rich women over forty are.  They realize their husbands aren't paying attention to them anymore so they decide they want a baby'."  She snorted softly.

Jon echoed her derision.  "Well that's a pretty bitchy thing to say."

"I know!  I mean, I get it that they're young and single and self-absorbed and probably have no idea what it's like to be married or want to have a baby..."  Cate paused, taking a breath.  She was surprised to feel a twinge of anger as she recalled the scene.  "But it just pissed me off.  They don't know me.  And they certainly have no right to generalize like that."

"Yeah."  Jon gave her another little squeeze, hearing the catch in her voice. 

"And then... then one of them pointed out that most old women like me don't even have the babies we obviously so desperately want.  Instead they use donor eggs, surrogates, et cetera.  Which is true, but it... well, it kinda hit home."

"And yet you stayed in your stall and didn't say anything?"  Jon chuckled softly.  "That's some restraint."

"Yeah, well... I had to take a deep breath, but I didn't really want to show my face.  After all, there's enough damned rumors flying about us."

Jon frowned again.  "But...?"

"But then..."  Cate's half-smile faded.  "Then one of them proclaimed that it was probably all my idea to have a baby, that you surely didn't want any more kids since you already have four of your own.   And if you did... you would have married a younger woman."  Her lip curled into a sneer.  "Because I'm obviously not a trophy wife."

"WHAT?"  Jon's response was hard.  His blue eyes narrowed.  "What a fucking bitch!"

Despite another twinge triggered by the memory, Cate smiled at Jon's reaction.  "Yeah.  I was seeing red by that point."  She chuckled.  "And then.... the final straw."

"What?"  The question came from between Jon's clenched teeth. 

Her reply was calm and matter-of-fact.  "The other one said she would gladly be your surrogate... as long as you knocked her up the good-old-fashioned way."

Cate could feel his body stiffen against hers.  Jon growled quietly before answering.  "And that's what made you charge out and confront them."

Her lip twisted wryly as she gazed at Jon's stormy expression.  "I didn't charge out.  I restrained myself.  I didn't want to make a scene with all the press hanging around.  God knows we don't need any more tabloid headlines."

"Baby, I swear... if you had stormed out and fuckin' decked those little cunts... I woulda been proud to see that in the rags."

Cate chuckled, her heart squeezing at his declaration.  His loyalty wasn't unexpected, but heartwarming all the same.

"Well, my office probably wouldn't have considered it such a positive thing.  Federal agents can't just go beating up mouthy little tramps in public restrooms, you know."  She smirked.  "But thank you for the moral support, Baby."

"So what did you do?  You said you confronted them..."  Jon's frown relaxed a bit with the question.

"I took a breath, counted to ten, and walked out with my head held high.  By that point they were both out by the sinks, Googling away on their sparkly little phones."  Cate's lip curled with her tone.

"Did they recognize you?"

"OH yeah."  Cate chuckled smugly.  "I just went about my business, washed and dried my hands.  Then I looked up and made eye contact with the brunette."

"What did she say?"

"Nothing.  She just stared at me, mouth-breathing."  Cate snorted again, this time with self-satisfaction.  "And who knows what the blonde was doing.  But they both knew who I was."

"So you just walked out?"

"After I set them straight about a few things." 

Her throaty chuckle made Jon's lips curve.  His blue eyes twinkled as he nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"I told them I have my own job, so that's why I'm not always with you at these events.  And that I prefer to stay out of the limelight when I am. I said they should know not to believe everything they read.  And..."  Cate smirked.  "For the record, I'm forty-five, you're fifty, we're not looking for a surrogate anything.... and that what goes on in our bedroom is nobody's fucking business but our own."

Jon's jaw dropped, then he grinned.  "That's fucking.... brilliant.  Jesus, Cate... I... Fuck!  I probably couldn't have come up with anything more than a string of curses."

"Yeah, well... that's the Jersey in you, Baby.  I'm trained to stay cool, remember?" 

Cate's musical laugh made his grin soften.  "I'm proud of you, Baby."  He gave her another squeeze and a nuzzle.  "For standing up for yourself."

"Standing up for us," she corrected him.  "And God, Jonny... it felt so fucking good.  I'm so fucking sick and tired of keeping my mouth shut and hiding out from those fucking press vultures and... and keeping all this... frustration... inside."  She let out a long sigh.  "I mean, I don't want anybody else to know what's going on with us... it's private.  But..."

Jon chuckled at her rapid string of f-bombs.  "But a soul can only take so much before you gotta speak up, huh?"  He pressed a kiss against her temple.

"Yeah.  After awhile you just start to feel... I don't know..."  Cate sighed again, more gently.  "Beat down.  Weak.  Christ, it's hard enough dealing with the ups and downs and the disappointments of the treatment, but then to hear some stupid little girls passing judgment on your life and your marriage..."

"I know, Baby.  Believe me."  Jon settled his chin again on her shoulder.  In the window he could see their faint reflection, their faces side-by-side.  They wore the same resigned smiles.

"So anyway... that's what happened.  And I walked out of that ladies room feeling like I'd just won a damned prize fight."

"You did have a little swagger goin' there, Baby."  Jon grinned.  "It was kinda hot."

Cate chuckled.  "That why you looked a little scared?" 

"Maybe, a little.  I learned a long time ago to stay on my toes around you."  Jon chortled and gave her another squeeze before lifting his chin from her shoulder and straightening.  Loosening his embrace, he gently guided her to turn in his arms.  When she faced him he smiled down at her.

"I've missed this Cate."

She blinked. "Huh? You've missed what?"

"You.  This Cate. The girl I fell for back in that little Georgia town.  The ballsy one, who calls people on their bullshit.  Who's not afraid of anything."  He winked.  "Well, except spiders."

She stared at him for a moment, then smiled gently.  "Oh.  I see what you mean."

"Don't get me wrong, Baby... I love that you've... softened... since we got married.  You're not so rough-and-tumble and butch anymore, ya know?"  He reached up to tap her nose.

Cate giggled softly.  "Well, I've had to learn to dial it back a little.  Now that I'm not teaching I don't have to project the image so much."

"And now that you have a husband and a family you can let yourself be a woman, not just a cop with boobs."

Cate sighed.  "Yeah.  But sometimes I miss being the tough chick, ya know?  It's... I don't know... just harder, now."

"But that's okay.  She's still in there."  Jon dropped his hand to cover her heart.  "Nice to see that confidence every now and then."

Cate nodded slowly, her smile brightening as she considered his words.  "I guess I just need to be reminded sometimes.  Like tonight."  She chuckled.  "I kinda feel like I used to.  Strong and tough and... lucky, I guess.  That I have you.  And that I can lean on you."

"You'll always be able to do that, Baby.  Promise."

"I know.  But it feels good to not need to.  At least not right now." 

Cate raised her hand to cover his on her chest.  Her diamond sparkled in the dim light.  "I guess I just didn't realize until tonight how much I've let our struggles affect me, how they've dragged down my spirit."  Her shining blue eyes met his.  "I don't want to feel like that anymore, Jon.  I'm so tired of being worried and sad and jaded.  I want to be positive and hopeful, to find the good in everything... Like you do."

Jon sighed silently with relief, her words lifting a weight from his heart.  It had been a dark few weeks since his birthday, as they readied for another round of fertility treatment. He had felt Cate withdrawing into herself, setting the blocks for her emotional protective wall.  Jon had worried about flying off to Los Angeles in the week ahead, leaving her alone to await pregnancy news.  To hear and see her like this, her energy renewed, was a welcome gift.

"A positive outlook leads to positive things," he reminded her gently.  "Even when the odds aren't in your favor."  He grinned and gave her a wink.  "That's not just some bullshit I make up for songs, ya know."

"I know.  But it's hard for me."

"I know, Baby.  I get it.  But you are a strong woman, in body and in spirit.  You just have to believe good things will happen, then let faith and hard work do the rest."  Jon leaned down to brush a kiss over her lips.  "Works for me.  After all, that's how I got you."

Her gentle chortle warmed his heart.  Jon encircled his wife with his arms and pulled her tight against his chest.  He held her close for a long minute, smiling as he felt her hug him back, her arms wrapped low around his hips.  Finally, with a kiss at the crown of her head he pulled back.

“You tired?”

“No, not at all.”  Cate smiled up at him, her wide eyes shining clear sapphire.

Jon gave her a falsely disapproving cluck.  “You’re supposed to get your rest this weekend.  Remember?”

“I know. I can sleep in tomorrow.  Besides, it’s not even midnight.”

“Guess not.  I’m not a pumpkin yet.”

“Nope, you’re not.”  Cate reached up to pat his chest.  “And I hope you don’t turn into one.  I’m kinda liking having you all to myself tonight.”

“Me too.  And guess what?”

“What?”

“I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“Really?”  Cate snorted playfully.  “Let me guess.”

“Not that.  Well… unless you want it to be that….”  Jon’s mouth twisted in a half-hopeful sexy smirk.

“That wouldn’t be a surprise, Baby.”

“Oh.  True.”  He gave her a warm grin.  “Well, anyway… I got a little something or you… for us… today when I was out.  I was kinda in the mood for celebrating, I guess.  And now, after that verbal ass-kicking you did tonight..."

Cate gave him a reluctant shrug.  "Baby, I shouldn't have champagne.  You know..."

"Who said anything about champagne?"

"That's usually what you bring home when you want to celebrate."  Cate's expression turned to one of puzzlement. 

"Ah, well.  Not this time.  Come with me."

Cate chuckled as Jon grasped her hand and led her away from the window.  "Where are we going?"

"Not far."  Jon smirked and led her across the living room and around the corner into their luxurious kitchen.  He stopped to pull out a barstool at the counter and waited patiently for her to settle upon it.  Then he strolled over to the wide twin stainless-steel doors.

"Chocolate, vanilla, fudge ripple, mint chip..."  Jon recited a list from memory as he tugged open the door on the left.  A frosty chill drifted from the compartment.  "... and strawberry.  Oh, and I think coffee-flavored too."

Cate laughed, shaking her head amusedly.  "Ice cream?  It's a little cold for that, don'tcha think?"

"Nah."  Jon ducked his head and reached into the freezer, extracting a half-dozen pint containers and piling them into a cradle of his bent arm.  Kicking the door shut, he carried the cartons over to the island counter where Cate sat.  He dropped the armload onto the granite and grinned triumphantly. 

"That's why I got hot fudge.  It's warm.  Just gotta nuke it a minute or two."

"You were just out shopping on a blustery March afternoon and decided to get stuff for sundaes?"  Cate reached to right several of the Haagen-Dazs pints, which were rolling slowly on their sides.

"Well, yeah.  I stopped at the market to pick up some tea bags and saw a bunch of those little jars of jimmies and sprinkles and stuff.  Made me think of Romeo and how he likes chocolate jimmies and a cherry on his ice cream, which made me hungry for ice cream.  So I went down to that fro-yo place on the corner and got a dish."

While he spoke Jon moved over to a cupboard and extracted a dark-brown jar.  He twisted off the lid before stepping over to place it in the microwave oven.  He punched a button and the appliance whirred softly.  He turned back to Cate to continue his confession.

"Then, because I'm a good husband,  I felt guilty because I had ice cream without you, so I went back to the market and bought all the stuff for sundaes.  And I wasn't sure what kind of ice cream or toppings you'd want, so I just bought a buncha different ones." 

As Jon narrated his afternoon expedition he moved back to the cupboard, then to the refrigerator, extracting dishes and spoons and scoops and toppings.  As he collected the items he set them all on the counter with the ice cream.  Last, he carefully removed the warmed fudge from the microwave and set it in front of Cate with a little-boy grin.

"So, what's your pleasure?"  He picked up the ice cream scoop and twirled it in his hand.

Cate's hand raised to cover her heart as she giggled at her husband's cuteness.  "Well.  With a story like that, how can I turn down such a sweet surprise?"  She shook her head again, her long mahogany tresses shimmering in the kitchen's soft light. 

"You wanna banana split?  I got bananas too."

"God, no... I'd never eat that much."  Cate surveyed the array of options Jon had laid out on the countertop.  "Umm... how about a scoop of chocolate?  With jimmies."

"Just one scoop?  C'mon, Cate.  You can't make a sundae outta one measly little clump of ice cream."  Jon waved the scoop toward the row of pint containers, then pointed toward the large dish at the ready.  "You gotta have at least three."

"Three?  Jesus, Jon... I'm not even hungry!"

"Okay, okay.  How about we share one then? Put a little somethin' we both like in it?"

Cate nodded, amenable to his compromise.  "Okay.  Sure.  But I just want a little chocolate.  You can pick the rest."

"Nope.  You gotta choose two.  Half for me, half for you."

Cate sighed with faux-exasperation.  "Fine.  Chocolate and mint."

"Okay.  Comin' up."  Jon pried the lid off a container and plunged the scoop into the creamy brown contents.  "Whaddya want on it?"

"I told you.  Jimmies.  Rainbow jimmies."  She quickly clarified her request at his playfully-arched brow.

"What else?"

"That's it."

"Nuh-uh.  You gotta have some kinda syrup.  I got hot fudge, caramel, butterscotch..."

Cate rolled her eyes but giggled.  "Fine.  Hot fudge."

"You want whipped cream or  marshmallow fluff?"  Jon dropped a huge scoop of chocolate ice cream into the dish and reached for another container.

"Whipped cream.  You are going to help me eat this, right?"  Cate warily eyed the baseball-sized chocolate mass Jon had just deposited in the frosted glass bowl.

"Sure.  After I add some fudge ripple."  Jon worked the scoop into another frozen mass.  "You want nuts?"  He gave her a dirty smirk.

She rolled her eyes and returned his leer.  "Sure."

"Wet or dry?"

"That depends on you."

Jon waggled his brows at her quick tease.  "No, I do believe it depends on you.  My tongue don't reach that far."  He blew a gentle raspberry at her for good measure.

"Ha ha.  In that case, dry.  Much as yours will remain."  Cate stuck out her tongue in reply.

"We'll see about that.  Cherry?"

"Okay."

"You gonna tie the stem with your tongue for me?"

"Sure." 

Jon looked up and gave her another leer.  "In that case, you wanna half-dozen of 'em?"  He plopped another huge scoop onto the dish.

Cate giggled at Jon's thick Jersey accent.  Somehow it always seemed to return when worked in the kitchen.  She pulled a playful pout.  "Sure, Baby.  If that's what turns you on..."

"Hell yeah..."  Jon reached to push the small jar of bright-red maraschino cherries toward her.  The little glass bottle slid across the granite, stopping near her hand.

With a sly smirk Cate picked up the jar and twisted off the lid.  Jon's grin widened as she watched her pluck a long-stemmed fruit from the jar and place it in her mouth. 

"Knew I married you for a reason."  Jon pried open another ice cream container as he teased his wife.  "You gotta helluva mouth, Baby."

Cate chortled, her lips pursing and relaxing as she worked the cherry in her mouth, biting it free of its woody stem.  Carefully chewing the fruit before catching the stem between her teeth, she swallowed.  Within a matter of seconds she had twisted the little twig into a pretzel-shape.

"Ta-dah..." she announced, reaching up to daintily pluck the curled stem from between her teeth.

"Damn, Baby.  You're talented."

"Thank you."  Cate snickered softly with her modest answer.  She dropped the stem onto the countertop as Jon popped the plastic top off an aerosol can of whipped cream and gave it a vigorous shake.

"You wanna hit?"  Jon grinned and pointed the can in her direction.

She giggled.  "Sure.  Why not?"

"Open wide."  Jon leaned over the island, reaching with a finger poised on the can's plastic tip.  When she opened her mouth he pressed down, depositing a creamy dollop of sugary white fluff onto her tongue.

"Mmmm..." Cate hummed softly, her mouth curving as it closed and she swallowed.

Jon laughed at her response, then reached again.  "Oops.  Wait a minute..."

"Mmmm... What?"  Cate automatically drew back, surprised by his movement.

"Hold still.  You've got..."  Jon's blue eyes sparkled as he again moved the can near her lips.  This time he was quicker than she was, shooting another little mound of whipped cream against the corner of her mouth.  "...something on your face."

"Hey!" Cate squealed, jerking away from his playful attack.  "Quit!"

"Hold still.  Lemme get that for ya."  Jon reached for her with his other hand.

"No!"  Cate's tongue slid sideways to capture half of the cream before it slid down her chin.  The swipe left a white smear on her skin.  "I got it."

"No you didn't."  Jon chuckled and stepped around the end of the island, moving close to her.  Again she drew back, eyeing him suspiciously.  He set the can on the counter and raised his hands, signaling truce.

Cate gave him a half-wary look before relaxing.  A little purr escaped her as Jon reached up and gently swiped his thumb over the sticky spot, then trailed it across her lower lip.  She responded with a smile before encircling his thumb with her mouth.

Jon groaned, her sensual action making his groin tighten.  "See," he declared softly.

Cate released his thumb with a gentle kiss.  "I think you may have missed a little more of it."  She smiled coyly.

"Yeah, I think you're right."  Jon smirked and stepped closer, lowering his face to hers.  His tongue slipped out to taste the spot, then slid between her lips when she turned her head to press her mouth to his.  He sighed softly as he savored the sweetness of her kiss.

"Hmm.  Maybe we should just forget about the ice cream," he crooned quietly, tipping his forehead against hers.

Cate giggled quietly.  "Nope.  Too late.  Now I want it.  Besides, you already scooped out about a half a gallon."

Jon let out an exaggerated sigh before rubbing his nose against hers.  "Yeah, okay." 

Cate reached to give Jon's back pocket a firm pat.  "You should know you can't get a girl all revved up with the promise of dessert, then not follow through."  She gave him a playful wink when he pulled his face back from hers.

He grinned.  "Yeah, yeah.  Hey... bet I can think of a use for the leftover whipped cream."

"I'm sure you can."

"Too bad you're wearin' a sweater. I'd use a little bit on you right now."  Jon gave his wife a playful leer as he stepped back to his side of the island.  He picked up the warm jar of fudge topping and started to drizzle the thick syrup over the ice cream.  "I'd even top it with a cherry or two," he added casually.

Cate snorted, her hand moving to her chest.  Her fingertips brushed over the soft merino wool wrapping her throat.  "Too bad.  Guess you'll have to stick to what's in the dish, huh?"

"For now, anyway."  Jon reached for the whipped cream can, shaking it again before tipping it upside down and aiming the nozzle at the contents of the cut-glass dish.  A soft whooshing sound followed as he topped the dessert with fluffy white swirls.  Once the sundae was covered he grinned and squirted a dollop onto his own tongue, for good measure.

"You wanna sprinkle jimmies or nuts?"

Cate reached for the plastic bottle of multi-colored candies.  "Jimmies."

Jon nodded and picked up the small tub of chopped peanuts.  "Guess that means I get to handle the nuts.  Again."  He smiled as her laughter tickled his ears.

"Oh, you poor thing," Cate crooned sympathetically as she sprinkled the topping onto his ice cream creation. "If it makes you feel any better... you can handle the cherries too."  She snorted with playful irony.  "I'm sure you've had no shortage of those in your lifetime, either."

Jon waggled his brows and gave her another mischievous grin before reaching for the cherry jar.  "I may have had a few... but that was a long, long time ago."   He plucked a pair of bright red fruits from the bottle and dropped them onto the frothy twin peaks of his ice cream masterpiece.  "Ahh. Perfect."

"Nice rack," Cate observed wryly, noting the sundae's suggestive shape. 

"Thanks.  Yours is better, though."  Jon chuckled.  "Bet I can make it look just like this.  Take off your top."

Cate laughed, reaching up to push her hair back and tuck it behind her ear.  "Nope.  Not 'til I get some dessert."

"Deal."  Jon grabbed a spoon and plunged it into the giant sundae.  He lifted a large glob of festooned chocolate ice cream and extended his arm toward her lips.  "Here."

"Jon!  That's huge!"  Cate half-laughed her reply, craning her neck back from the offering.

"C'mon... take it.  I know for a fact you can fit more than that in your mouth."  Jon waggled his brows lasciviously.

"Mmmm.  Well, since you put it that way..." Cate leaned forward, opening her mouth wide to accept the bite.  She half-snorted a laugh as she felt the ice cream and whipped topping smear around her lips, realizing she was quite literally biting off more than she could chew.

"Come on, Baby... Oh yeah.... Take it all..." Jon's gleefully dirty encouragement nearly made her choke.  He withdrew the spoon and stood smirking at her, his blue eyes sparkling merrily.

"Mmmmmfffff!!!!"  Cate reached up to cup a hand under her face, prepared to catch the dessert that threatened to dribble down her chin.  She grimaced lightly as she sucked on the frozen sweetness in her mouth, feeling it dissolve and start trickle down her throat.  Trying not to snort again at Jon's silly expression, Cate hastily chewed the remainder of the mouthful, shivering involuntarily at the chill on her teeth and gums.  She covered her mouth with her hand until finally she had cleared her mouth.

"You brat!"  She chided, her cold-numbed tongue making the mild insult come out in a thickened slur.

Jon chortled and spooned up his own bite.  His mischievous gaze locked with Cate's, he slipped the ice cream into his mouth and sucked suggestively.  "Mmmmm....."  He pulled the spoon from between his lips with a light smack.  "This could be you, Baby.  All you gotta do is say the word..."

Cate shook her head amusedly, smiling at his playfulness.  "You're such a Goof."

"Yeah, but I'm your Goof."

Cate's smile gentled.  "Yes, you are.  Thank God."

Seeing her expression mellow, Jon let his silliness go.  He handed her a clean spoon with a loving smile. When she took it they both dipped their utensils again into the sundae and ate.

"You know, Baby..."  Jon's voice was soft and a little sad when he spoke.  "I'm gonna miss you these next couple weeks."

"Same here."  Cate looked up at him and smiled.  "But it's just two weeks.  Not even, actually. A week and a half."

He sighed.  "Yeah.  A week and a half of empty beds."

Cate smirked.  "You could come with me to Buffalo."

"No thanks.  It's March."  Jon's reply was mildly amused.  "Besides, you wouldn't have time for me anyway.  You'll be busy with your cop buddies."

"I'd make time for you."

Jon chuckled warmly, more than a little tempted by her offer.  But he knew better than to give in to the impulse to take her up on it.  Like Cate, he had work to do.

"I know you would, Baby.  But I can't."  He shrugged and gave her a little smile.  "I'm a workin' man, you know."

"I know."  Cate dipped her spoon into a thick puddle of fudge, then licked the chocolate from the utensil.  "But at least the time will go fast.  We'll both be busy."

"Yeah."  Jon nodded his agreement, spooning up another bite of ice cream before smirking.  "And at least I'll be warm in Los Angeles."

Cate snorted.  "Thanks for rubbing it in." 

"You're welcome."  Jon downed his bite before speaking again.  "But you're right.  It'll go fast.  Before we know it we'll be duct-taping the Chuckleheads to their seats on the plane and flying off to the islands."

Cate nodded, her lips curving amusedly at the vision his description conjured.  "Yeah.  And next week Danny will be here."

"You sure you don't want me to cancel Wednesday and fly back early?  We could all three go to dinner, maybe at Barclay?"

Cate smiled at Jon's mention of the upscale steakhouse, one of his favorite dining spots.  "No, Baby, it's okay. You need to keep those meetings, so you don't have try to jam another trip into your calendar.  And...."  She shrugged.  "To be honest, I'm looking forward to it being just me and Danny.  It's been so long since I've seen him."

Jon smiled gently, nodding his acknowledgement.  The bond between Cate and her best friend was closer than blood.  That was something he could understand. 

"Well, okay.  But don't let him keep you out all night, alright?  When I land I'm gonna go straight home and climb in bed and wait for you to crawl in there and wrap your arms around me and do whatever you want to me."

His plans made her chortle softly, though she had no doubt he was serious.  "I won't.  Danny's known me a long time, Baby.  For years I've warned him that I'll leave his ass sitting alone in a bar for a ghost of a chance to get naked with Jon Bon Jovi."

That made Jon laugh.  "Well, lucky you, that he didn't take offense to that.  Otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation."  His eyes sparkled as he recalled the day Cate had strode unwittingly into his life and his heart, their meeting the result of a half-prank, half-favor by her best friend.

"Yeah.  We can both blame him."  Cate grinned. 

"So I guess I'll just have to wait until next time he's in town to hang with him, huh?"

"Probably."  Cate took one more bite of ice cream then dropped her spoon onto the granite countertop, her appetite satisfied.  "He heads back on Thursday."

"Ah, well.  Another time."

"Yeah."  Cate sat quiet for a minute, watching Jon scoop more of the sundae onto his spoon.  Her lips curved playfully.  "So, you gonna finish that?"  She nodded at the half-empty dish.

"Probably not the whole thing."

"Mmmm.  Well, I'm full.  Think I'm gonna go get ready for bed."

"Okay."  Jon scooped a thick dollop of fudge and licked it from the spoon.  "I'll clean up in here, then I'll be in."

Cate nodded and slid from her barstool.  She started to make her way toward the kitchen's arched doorway, then paused.  

With a sly smirk she turned back to the island and reached for the whipped cream canister.  She gave it a slight shake, then squeezed a bead of topping onto her finger.  Cate raised her gleaming sapphire gaze to meet Jon's as she gently sucked the sweetness from her fingertip.

"Jonny.... Don't be long."

With a coy wink she turned and strolled toward the bedroom, lazily shaking the can as she went.

Jon dropped his spoon and leapt from his seat.

*****

"You look like you've had quite a day."

Cate grinned tiredly at the off-colored image on the screen, knowing Jon's comment on her disheveled appearance was a gentle tease.  "You don't look so great yourself.  Kinda.... green."

"Yeah, well.  That's what happens when you lock yourself away in a studio for days on end.  You start to mold."

"Ah.  And I suppose that's Obie's fault?"  Cate giggled as she saw Jon's engineer and long-time pal duck behind him and wave at the webcam, then wiggle two fingers behind Jon's head like rabbit ears.

"Of course.  Isn't it always?"  Jon rolled his eyes, intuiting that his companion was up to no good.

"So you say."

"Oh yeah.  Blame the engineer."  Obie parroted sarcastically before ducking out of sight.  "Maybe if you worked instead of sitting on your gold-plated ass Skyping with your wife we'd get this done."

"Yeah, yeah.  In a minute."  Jon fluttered a hand dismissively at Obie's off-screen voice.  "So, where have you been?  I tried to reach you over an hour ago."

Cate took a sip from her water bottle before answering.  "I was at the salon, obviously."  She snorted with her sarcastic answer.

"Think maybe you better go get your money back, then.  Unless 'refugee' was the look you were going for."

"Ha ha."  Cate wrinkled her nose at Jon's image on her tablet.  "I was at the gym.  Obviously."

"Kinda late for you to work out, ain't it?"  Jon's voice held mild surprise.  "You're usually a morning workout gal."

"I know.  But I went to one of those Zumba classes."

"Zumba?  That Latin dance thing?"  Jon grinned, picturing his not-so-graceful wife shimmying clumsily to energetic salsa music.  

"Yeah."  Cate half-sighed her answer.  "It kicked my ass.  Literally, I think."  She winced as she shifted in her seat and a sharp pain shot across her right hip.

"What, did you fall on your ass?"  Jon joked, failing to notice her grimace.

"No.  But my right side is killing me.  Think I tweaked that muscle that goes across my hip.  What's it called?"  Cate's hand dropped to cover the aching spot.

"Hip flexor."  Jon's grin gentled as he realized she wasn't teasing.  "You alright?"

"I'll live.  Between that and my back I may walk like a cripple for a few days though."

"Your back's acting up again?"  Now Jon's voice carried a note of concern.

"Yeah, a little.  Not serious, just twinges. Probably just stupid muscle spasms again."  Cate's lip curled as she shifted again, causing another pain to bolt across her hip.  "Sucks getting old."

"Well if your back hurt, why on earth did you go to an aerobics class?"

Cate sighed.  Jon's question was perfectly logical.  Somehow she had failed to recognize that perhaps an hour of high-impact bouncing may not be the best thing after her day of discomfort.

"I went with a friend.  It sounded like fun."

"A friend?"  Jon frowned.  "Who?"

"Angie Harris.  One of my former students.  She's in town on a case."

"You ran into one of your former students at our gym?"  Now Cate could hear the puzzlement in Jon's query.  She chuckled softly, still rubbing at her pained hip.

"No.  We had lunch.  She asked if I knew of any good exercise classes, said she was bored of running on the treadmill in hotels.  So I told her about our place."

"And she talked you into going with her."

"Not exactly... well... yeah, kinda."  Cate shrugged, a sheepish smile curving her mouth.  "I went with her to get her a guest pass, and when we got there a class was just about to start.  So we just kinda... jumped in."  Cate took another drink from her bottle.  "And it was fun.  Exhausting, but fun."

"Looks like it was quite a workout," Jon observed with a chortle, noting her tangled, matted mass of damp red hair and flushed cheeks.  "Thought maybe you'd been caught in a downpour or something."

"Gee, thanks," Cate replied tartly.  She reached up to drag a hand through her sweaty hair and found it trapped in a thick knot.  She tugged her fingers free and instead tucked a damp strand behind her ear.

Jon shrugged and gave her an apologetic little-boy grin.  "Just kidding, Baby.  You look beautiful as always."

"Right.  Big Fat Liar."  Cate shifted again in her chair.  This time she let out a little grunt as the dull pain surged across her side.  "Oww."

"Seriously, Cate... you okay?"

"Yeah, fine."  Cate answered with a sigh.  "I just need to stretch it out, I think.  Maybe a warm shower will help."

"How 'bout a nice, hot bath?" Jon suggested, his smile gentling.  "Some candles, a little soft music... you know, relax."

"Why that sounds just Heavenly!"  Obie's nasally sarcasm cut into Jon's recommendation.  "If we hurry up and get this fucking track done you can go back to the hotel and take a bath or paint your toenails or wax your ass or whatever the fuck you wanna do, Princess!"

Obie's impatience made Cate giggle, then wince again.  "Think you better get back to work before Obie blows a gasket."

Jon chuckled.  "Yeah, probably.  Then I can ditch him."  He gave Cate's image a serious look, knowing the little camera on his tablet would capture his concern.  "You sure you're okay?"

Cate nodded.  "I'm fine, Jon.  Really."

"Okay."  Jon turned his face from the camera to look in Obie's direction, then returned his attention to the screen.  "So call me before you go to bed, okay?  So I can say goodnight."

"I will."  Cate smiled with her promise.  "Love you."

"Love you too, Baby."

"Bye."

Cate's smile turned tired as the video chat box went dark.  She touched the screen a few times, closing out the Skype application and shutting down her iPad before dropping it on the couch next to her.

"Time to hit the showers," she mumbled to herself.  Her quiet words seemed to echo in the empty apartment.  Realizing it was too quiet, Cate picked up the audio remote from the table at her side and pointed it toward the stereo. Immediately a classic melody drifted through the room, a continuation of Jon's previous listen.

With another little sigh Cate sat up and scooted to the edge of the couch.  She swore quietly as another twinge pierced her side, this time over the point of her hipbone.  "Oww!  Dammit!"  She stood still for a moment, massaging the spot until the tightness was  partially relieved.

After a long moment Cate turned to wander in the direction of the master suite.  She rubbed idly at her discomfort as she trekked down the hallway.  Her eye was drawn to an empty space in the decor, the void created several weeks earlier during her and Jon's passionately violent stumble toward the bedroom after his birthday party.  She made a mental note to pick up the now-reframed print from the shop.

Her expression mellowed as she continued on to the bedroom, then around the bed and into the luxurious master bath.  Thankfully this would be her last night of solitude for a few weeks; tomorrow was her dinner-date with Danny in Philadelphia.  After what was certain to be a too-brief catch-up with her best friend, she would return to the Red Bank house to find her husband home from his West Coast travels.

Cate was looking forward to Jon's return more than she cared to admit.  The last few days of sleeping solo had been particularly lonely.  She missed the way he curved his body against hers, how he protectively encircled her in his arms, even when he slept.  And right now she especially craved the relief of his strong, gentle hands massaging her achy back and hip. Cate knew the restorative capabilities of Jon's touch were more emotional than therapeutic, but it didn't matter.  She just missed him.

Her mind occupied with tender memories, Cate absently stripped off her t-shirt and sports tank.  She shimmied out of her yoga pants before moving over to the shower.  Touching the control pad on the wall, she started the tap running and adjusted the water temperature and spray.  By the time she made a necessary stop in the water closet her shower would be warm and welcoming.

Again pushing a sweat-matted lock of cinnamon hair behind her ear, Cate moved to the little room that housed the toilet.  She pushed down her damp cotton panties and crouched on the toilet, grunting as another stab of discomfort accompanied the movement.  She let her panties fall to her ankles as she relieved her bladder, then kicked them off with one foot.  They landed in a pale heap against the baseboard.

Cate's eyes narrowed as a rosy blotch on the white cotton caught her attention.  She stared uncomprehendingly for a moment, then felt her heart clench.  Breathlessly she reached for the toilet tissue, hastily yanking off a length and pushing it between her legs.  She held her breath as she dropped her gaze between her parted thighs, evaluating the soiled paper.

A smear of pink-tinted mucous made her brow furrow.

Cate stared at the paper for a moment before dropping it into the toilet and tearing a fresh length from the roll.  Repeating her cleanse, Cate again evaluated the paper.  Again, a watery, reddish-tinted stain.

Cate gasped softly as she remembered to breathe.  "Oh, please..." she whispered to nobody in particular as she closed her eyes for a moment, then stood up. Another dull ache accompanied the movement.  Cate dropped her gaze to the porcelain bowl, dreading what she might find.

She saw only the traces of blood on the now-waterlogged paper.

Cate stood motionless for a minute, half-relieved but half-concerned.  She knew from her research and her conversations with Dr. Klein and his staff that minor spotting was possible in the days following the intrauterine insemination procedure.  But still she had to swallow hard against the lump of fear rising in her throat.

Finally taking a shaky breath, Cate convinced herself to move.  She picked up her panties, again wincing against the twinge over her hip, then inspected them more closely.  Several small, pale-reddish blotches dotted the cotton crotch.

"Okay."  Cate breathed the word, forcing herself to stay calm and focus on her now-vocal pep-talk.  "You just came home from the gym.  It's just a little spotting... It could be anything.  Course of action is..."  She paused to recall what she had read and heard at the clinic.  "Relax, monitor, evaluate."

She repeated the mantra twice more in a breathy whisper before remembering the shower was running.  Forgetting to flush the toilet, she carried her panties out of the water closet and dropped them onto the pile of her workout clothes.  She ensured a clean towel was on the hook before stepping into the shower.

"Relax," she willed herself softly as her eyes closed against the spray.  Jon's voice filled her head, repeating the word.  Cate's arms crossed protectively over her abdomen as rivulets of warm water streamed down her face and neck, masking a pair of fearful tears that squeezed from between her lids.

After a long minute Cate turned slowly to the side.  She lowered one of the adjustable shower heads to direct a stream of pulsing water against her hip, hoping it would soothe the troublesome strain.  She groaned softly at the pressure, gaining temporary relief.  But when she turned  her back to the nozzle again she felt the stab of dull pain under the point of her hip. 

Stepping forward, Cate turned and lowered herself onto the bench at the back of the shower, then settled onto her left hip.  She crossed her right leg over her left and leaned back in an attempt to stretch the aggravated hip flexor.  It seemed to help, the stretch lengthening the muscle and relieving the ache.  At least momentarily.

For almost twenty minutes Cate stayed in the shower, struggling to soothe her worried mind as the pulsating jets of water relieved her tightened muscles.  She alternated sitting and standing, ensuring her entire body was worked over by the shower's variable massage.  It helped.

She almost had herself convinced that there was nothing to worry about when she noticed.  On the alabaster tile bench, a watery crimson streak.

Again fighting her rising fear, Cate stretched for a washcloth from the set-in alcove at the shower's rear.  Not bothering to wet the ivory terrycloth square, she swiped it between her legs.

Another reddish-pink stain.

Cate dropped the cloth to the shower floor. Not bothering to turn off the water first, she pushed open the door and reached for the towel.  She shivered as the cooler air braced her skin, then wrapped herself in the plush body sheet before  squeezing the excess water from her hair.  She grabbed another hand towel and dabbed absently at the wet mahogany mop as she stepped over to the wall and jabbed at the keypad.  The water stopped.

Cate strode quickly from the bathroom into the master bedroom, not caring that she left a wet trail across the carpet.  Snatching her phone from her nightstand, she brushed her finger over the designated speed-dial number.  She waited what seemed an hour for three electronic rings to sound in her ear before she heard a calm female voice.

"MRC, Doctor Klein's service."

"Yes..." Cate swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry.  "I'm a patient of Doctor Klein's.  I have a... concern... and I need to speak to... someone."

"What is your concern, Ma'am?"

"I'm... I'm experiencing some... bleeding."  Cate's mind raced as she tried to formulate a coherent explanation of her worries.   She knew the woman on the other end of the line would need more specific information.  She took a breath, then tried again.

"I'm in my second round of IUI.  I had the insemination procedure eleven days ago.  And now I'm experiencing some spotting... which has me worried."

"Your name?"

"Cate Bongio... Sullivan."  Cate's voice trembled a bit as she self-corrected.

"Mrs. Sullivan, are you having any pain or severe cramping?"

"No.  Well... a little.  But I think I just pulled a muscle at the gym."

"Where is the pain located?"

Cate frowned, surprised by the question.  "It's my right hip.  The flexor muscle."

"Any abdominal cramps or lower back pain?"

"No.  No cramps... my back's a little sore, but I have a history of back pain."

"Describe the bleeding."

"It's... I don't know... spotty, I guess.  Not dark red, like old blood.  More pinkish.  And streaky."

"So bloody discharge, not actual bleeding."  Cate could hear the soft, rapid click of fingers on a keyboard.

"Umm... Yes."

"And how long have you been experiencing this discharge?"

"I noticed it about an hour ago.  But it could have been a little longer."

"And it has been steady?  Not stopping and starting?"

"I think so."

"Is it enough to fill a pad in an hour?"

"I'm not sure.  I don't think so..."

"Mrs. Sullivan, have you taken a pregnancy test yet?"

"No.  I have an appointment with Doctor Klein on Friday."

There was a pause, then the woman continued.  "Here's what you've told me:  Eleven days post-IUI, you're concerned over light, pinkish-tinted bloody discharge that has been ongoing for at least the past hour.  No cramping, mild lower back and muscle pain over your right hip.  No confirmed pregnancy at this time.  Is that correct?"

Cate swallowed hard and nodded, though the woman couldn't see her.  "Yes."

"Okay.  Mrs. Sullivan, I'm going to send this message to Dr. Klein for his evaluation.  Is this the best number by which to reach you?"

"Yes.  It's my mobile."

"Okay.  You can expect a call from someone within the next half hour.  Mrs. Sullivan, if you start to have extremely painful cramping or heavy bleeding you should go directly to the nearest Emergency Room.  Do you understand?"

"Yes."  Her response was a hoarse croak.

"Okay, Mrs. Sullivan.  Just do your best to relax and keep your phone handy.  Someone will be in touch soon.  I'm sending the message through now."

"Thank you."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Cate blinked rapidly as she closed the call.  Suddenly feeling weak, she sank down onto the edge of the bed.  Her eyes turned to the bedside table, to the silver-framed photo of Jon.  She took a deep breath, then looked down at the phone still clenched in her hand.  Her thumb moved, ready to dial for his welcome reassurance.  Then it paused as she reconsidered.

There was nothing he could do for her, not from all the way out in California.  And she needed to keep the line open for the promised return call.

Cate's hand dropped limply to her lap, her fingers securely curled around her phone.  Her gaze again turned to his photograph.

"Tell me, Baby..." she whispered to the image, as if it could respond.  "It's gonna be alright..."