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“I do. We have it planned. And as for us, we are at the beginning of our story. Once this is over, you’ll realize it was nothing. No big deal. I wouldn’t do it if I had any concerns.”

“How long will you be gone?” she asked.

“Three days, maybe four at most.”

“Okay…okay…Can I go with you?” she asked.

“No, not to Iraq. It is safe for me to do this, but if you go with me, there becomes an added danger. Some of the men refuse to deal with women. It is a different culture. It would not work.”

He must have surmised how she felt because he pulled her close and said, “I love you. This is standard operating procedure. It will be alright. I’ll come back in three days.

We will pack up this flat and fly to New York as planned.

After we’ve done the same to your place, we move to Portland.

We will find a house, an actual house, and we will pick out things like wallpaper and colors.

Then, if you want, we will have a honeymoon.

Wouldn’t that be fun? We will get a damn dog.

Whatever you want. Heck, we could ask Vic to help us.

I like how she sexed up your apartment with all that red. ”

“All I want is you,” she said and looked up at him, her face crumpling. His face softened.

“Honey, please don’t cry.”

But she couldn’t stop. They ate lasagna at the kitchen bar and drank wine, but Rebecca leaked tear after tear. She couldn’t stop. And even when he took her to bed later that night and held her, she still cried.

The next night, he came home with a definite departure date. She felt his words like a knife to her gut. She did not want him to go.

As they lay in bed that night, Mitch spooned Rebecca and kissed her bare shoulder before he whispered in her ear, “I have a little surprise for tomorrow.”

“Damn, I was hoping it was something like, ‘I’m not going to Iraq after all’,” she said and turned to face him, their noses brushing in the twilight.

“Iraq is going to be fine,” he said, pulling her tighter to him. “You won’t even miss me.”

“I will miss you. I already miss you,” Rebecca replied and when he said nothing more, she asked, “Okay, what is the surprise?”

“I was able to get us tickets to Windsor Castle. Our entry time is 10:30 am, which is unbelievably lucky. They are sold out for the next three weeks. Tomorrow, we will take a cab ride to Windsor and then have a wonderful lunch and return. Does that sound good?”

“We will be tourists,” she said, smiling in the dark. “I’m excited.”

“It is almost like a date,” he replied, and kissed the tip of her nose.

“I wish we could have done more of that,” she said.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he said, “Married dates. I think we are going to have lots of fun.”

* * *

They held hands as they walked through the castle and then through St. Georges Chapel. The weather was beautiful, the bright summer sun making a rare British appearance.

“Who are your favorites?” he whispered as they walked inside the cool chapel past vaults that held various sovereigns.

“I’m partial to George V and Queen Mary,” Rebecca replied in a demure whisper.

“Okay, why? They’ve been dead since before you were born.”

“They loved each other. I like to think they had something special,” she said giving his hand an extra squeeze.

“We definitely have something special,” he said. Then he looked around to make sure they weren’t about to get run over by eager tourists and kissed her. They took photos of each other and then someone offered to take their photo together.

They stopped in little souvenir shops and bought a Bobbie bottle opener for themselves and a bobblehead of the King for Alex.

On the ride back to London, after a lovely lunch at one of the small hotels near the castle Rebecca looked at her phone. She vowed that the photo of the two of them with Windsor Castle in the background was suitable for framing.

On their last night together, they had a quiet dinner with candles, wine, and ginger ale for her. She didn’t know what to say. She had something to tell him, but she didn’t know how he would take the news.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“No, I’m a mess,” she said and started to cry.

He got out of his chair, walked to hers, and pulled her up close. Then he held her and said, “I’m sorry, but this is no big deal. Once I deliver these helicopters, I’m done. With any luck, I will only be gone for two nights, three tops.”

She cried in earnest then and said, “I need to tell you something. Maybe it will make a difference to you.”

She didn’t know how he would react to this. She hoped he would be as excited as she was.

“What?” he asked.

“My period should have started two days ago. I’m either really stressed or pregnant. I don’t know. I think I might be pregnant. I know it has only been a couple of weeks, but we’ve really had a lot of sex.”

She waited, then Mitch smiled and pulled her close and said, “A baby, wouldn’t that be something?”

“I bought a test, but I’m too scared to take it.”

“Bex, take it. I want to know.”

“But what if I’m not?” she asked, looking up at him and seeing the hope in his eyes. “A month ago, I didn’t know if I could ever get pregnant, so I put it out of my mind. But now there is hope. I will be upset if I’m not pregnant.”

“And what if you are?” he asked and smiled.

She lowered her head and said, “We can’t get our hopes up. It happened so quickly.”

“Well, we can hope you are, and it isn’t like I’ve just met you. We’ve known each other for ten years,” he said. “When are you going to take the test?”

“I could take it now,” she said and opened a drawer in the kitchen that held a bag from the local pharmacy. She took the kit out of the bag and reread the directions she’d read that afternoon.

“How can I help you?” he said as he wrapped his arms around her.

“Try not to be disappointed if the answer is negative,” she said, and he kissed her.

“Either way, it is okay,” he said. “I just like to think that all our lovemaking resulted in a baby. It is kind of exciting. If it did happen, I bet it happened on the afternoon we got married.”

“Yes, that was particularly spectacular,” Rebecca said with a wink. Then she pulled away from him and walked to the bathroom.

“And if you aren’t,” he said as she walked away, “I think we should keep practicing a lot. We will get there eventually.”

She smiled at him over her shoulder, then shut the door. He made practice a lot of fun.

Five minutes later, they were both looking at a stick that showed two pink lines.

Mitch looked at her and said, “I love you. And I guess I knocked you up.”

She smiled, remembering some of their more intimate moments. “I love you too, and I would agree. I think you made me pregnant.”

They turned and smiled at each other, and then they hugged and kissed.

In between kisses, he said, “I’m telling you. It was the afternoon we fell off the bed. I just know it.”

“That was a pretty fabulous time,” she said, remembering it was a standout orgasm that she was pretty sure people on the street below could hear.

“Shall we recreate it?” he asked as he slipped his hand inside her blouse and cupped her breast. His body always ran a little warmer than hers.

She enjoyed the warmth of his fingers as they sought and found her nipple.

Then, he began to knead her flesh in a suggestive way that he knew she liked.

She needed his mouth where his hand was, and she knew he wouldn’t mind her request.

Rebecca moaned at his touch and managed to say, “The couch is right over there. I don’t think I can make it to the bedroom. I want your mouth where your fingers are.”

“I can think of a few places I’d like to put my mouth,” he said as he led her to the couch.

They made love in front of the fire. There was a different tone to their lovemaking now that they knew they were pregnant. They kept smiling at each other, and Mitch placed his hand on her tummy several times and then kissed the space where his hand rested.

As they lay cuddled under a blanket on the floor, having ended up there after starting on the couch, he asked, “Boy or girl? The first thing that pops in your head.”

“Girl,” Rebecca said, and added, “with your dimples.”

“And your green eyes,” he said.

“Not to get ahead of ourselves, but what would you like to name a little girl?” Rebecca said.

“My mother was Emily, which I’ve always liked, but if you don’t, that could be a middle name,” he said. “Or some version of it.”

“I like Emily. And if it is a boy?” she asked.

“Well, Rebecca Alexandra Stark, can you think of two birds with one stone?”

“No, we are not naming a son after my brother.”

“It is after your middle name,” Mitch countered.

“No, no, no. I’d be more apt to do Mitchell Junior,” she said.

“No way,” he said.

“Okay, we still have some work to do,” she said.

“I’ll think about it on my trip,” he said.

She tensed, and she knew he felt it because he held her tighter and said, “It is going to be okay.”

After dinner, he packed a small bag for Iraq while she watched silently from the bed where she sat and worried.