difficult than her pregnancy. Minutes earlier, her doctor informed her and Terry that she wanted to do a C-section due to cephalopelvic disproportion. Elena needed no explanation, but the look on Terry’s face was familiar. He had no idea what was happening.
“The baby’s head is too big to fit through the pelvic cavity,” Elena explained, her voice strained.
Six years as a practicing attorney taught Elena never to walk into a courtroom unprepared for any emergency, and she had treated her pregnancy the same way. She was well aware one in four births was caesarian. It was just her turn. She was prepped and wheeled toward the operating room with Terry at her side. When they reached the OR door, Elena couldn’t resist one more parting thought. “Now you understand why I’m so tight down there when we make love!”
Terry just shook his head and pointed himself toward the waiting room. Exactly one hour later, Crockett was awakened by Terry’s voice. He had a new grandson.
It was late afternoon when Crockett finally pointed his car east and headed home. He remembered the first few days after Elena’s birth. He and Shirley spent many happy hours trying to chart every step of their daughter’s new life. As hard as he tried to do the same for his grandson, to envision what might be ahead, he could not do it. He had no idea why, but a sense of fear was overwhelming his senses.
Chapter 12
January 25, 1990
San Diego, California
On the morning that baby Scott Robbins turned two months old, Celia left home early. She pointed her car south on the San Diego Freeway, mentally rehashing a monologue she knew she had delivered far too many times to too many men. She was twenty-seven years old and had always placed her career as a pharmaceutical representative ahead of casual romance, frequently terminating many potentially promising relationships. She was on her way to do it once again.
She met Dr. Emil Lundgren weeks earlier, during a company sponsored holiday party onboard a small cruise ship sailing the San Diego shoreline. When one too many glasses of wine precipitated a rise in her libido, her inhibitions disappeared, and she started looking for a potential single night partner. A half inch short of six feet tall, she was athletic, demonstrably intelligent and had dark blond hair randomly accented by lighter neutral slices. For her, finding a partner had never been a problem. When she spotted Lundgren, she moved in. He was a moderately handsome thirty-four year old pediatrician and, according to his mild protests that evening, he was a happily married man. The fact that his wife was not aboard suddenly made him a personal challenge. He was fair game. Sex had been on a seven-month hiatus from her life and, while she knew how to pleasure herself, it was time for the real thing.
Using every professional salesmanship skill in her arsenal, it took her less than an hour that night to convince her prey to toss any cautions he may have overboard and follow her home to her La Jolla apartment. He had two things she wanted, a penis and what looked to be a very sensitive mouth. For her, it was pure, wonderful sex and neither left anything to the imagination. When she audibly declared what she wanted, he obliged her every whim, eventually introducing one of his own by turning her over abruptly and positioning himself behind her on his knees. She surprised herself when she remained still. Her only experience with anal penetration years earlier had been both physically and mentally uncomfortable, but she offered no objections. There had been no time for modesty. It was non-existent on both sides.
The month that followed the holiday party included several discrete mid-day trysts in her apartment. She wasn’t proud of her indiscretions, but had no regrets. Allowing her hormones to take precedence over decorum had happened before and she was sure it would eventually happen again but, for now, she felt a need to take care of business, refocus, and concentrate on her career without the distracting complications of a romantic partner. She also knew the time would come when she could no longer self-regulate her personal physical needs. It just meant the process would repeat itself and the hunt for a new lover would eventually begin once again. She was just a mile away from ending one more indiscretion. She was about to have the same one-sided conversation she had with previous lovers. It seemed simple enough, but something was different. She could feel it.
Chapter 13
February 24, 1990
La Jolla, California
A strong Saturday afternoon ocean breeze swept up the hillside, gently rattling the bay window in Celia’s apartment. Sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, she was focused, scripting a new sales presentation on her brand new IBM 386 computer. After five years in the field as a sales manager, her promotion to head of sales training for Signal Pharmaceuticals two weeks earlier meant a huge salary increase and placed her on an accelerated program for senior management. Her work schedule was suddenly predictable, and her days of traveling and overnight stays were mostly over. Finally, she could take firm control of her new life.
At 6 P.M., Celia felt her energy level deteriorating, her concentration waning. She needed a break. She grabbed a jacket and walked outside to the patio deck, the same place she always retreated to when stressed. The views from her apartment always brought her a sense of peace and serenity, and she needed another of those moments. She looked out at what had become a very dark Pacific Ocean. She took a few minutes, scanning the flickering lights from the homes below that blanketed the surrounding hillsides, before turning away to curl up in her favorite patio chair. She had a decision to make. When the ocean breeze predictably turned harsh, she retreated inside, still mentally rehashing the news from her gynecologist the previous morning. His report was not unexpected. Her knee-jerk reaction at being officially pronounced pregnant was to have an abortion. Now, nearly thirty-six hours after her initial shock, her motherly instincts and an elementary review of her financial projections were clearing the way to a more pragmatic and personally acceptable plan.
Her single life had been a whirlwind, laced with lows and highs. The peaks had always outnumbered the valleys, amply compensating her for the less spectacular moments that came with being alone. The death of her mother during her senior year in college followed just months after her father’s accidental death. Until now, the loss of her parents was a void she managed to work around. She longed for their guidance. For the first time in her life, she felt completely alone. She was her own counsel, the sole architect of her future. While she did not intentionally seek it, motherhood was beckoning, and a radical change in her life was staring her in the face. She abandoned her thoughts of not telling Emil Lundgren that he was the father of her unborn child, but her sense of fairness finally prevailed. She would wait a few months to be sure her pregnancy was stable before breaking the news but would not ask for financial or emotional support. How he chose to deal with her decision was up to him. She had no intention of disrupting his marriage.
Pouring what she knew was most likely her last glass of wine for a very long time, Celia sat down on the sofa and picked up a spreadsheet she created to help her assess her financial future once again. It was now her personal roadmap. Her baby was due in late August. She would arrange to take a brief leave of absence, hire a live-in nanny, and keep her career on track. The numbers worked. While it would be a stretch financially, she could make it. Outside, the winds picked up as an offshore winter storm began to pelt the coastline with rain. She fell asleep, comforted by the thought she would never treat being single and pregnant as an obstacle. She would embrace it. There was no other choice.
Chapter 14
June 13, 1991
Austin, Minnesota
Chronologically, Dr. Jeremiah Trent had had no trouble admitting to being old. He knew that most, if they knew his date of birth would automatically label him as old, but he never conceded age had anything to do with how he lived his life. The locals would back him up. Physically, everyone around town knew he could match men half his age. Mentally, his colleagues often bragged for him, telling others that he had few peers and that his historic and distinguished medical career would be remembered long after he passed. Trent thought little of their opinions. His only concern at this stage of his life was staying alive, and he was doing all he could to cheat death.
An avid runner and