25 comments/ 81208 views/ 41 favorites For Want of a Child By: ronde Almost any man would have given her the courtesy of a smile, but few would have commented on her beauty or her body. Angela McBride was just an average looking woman in an average skirt and blouse sitting in the chair across from Harry, and was displaying all the signs of nervousness that he'd seen many times before. In some ways, he was pleased that she wasn't exceptionally pretty, and was even more pleased that she was rather on the thin side. He had experienced a trying six months with a beautiful, buxom assistant who spent more time flirting with every man in the office than she did at her assigned tasks. Orbitron was very cautious in the termination of it's employees, and it had taken five months of counseling and progressive disciplinary actions before he could finally tell her to pack her lipstick and hand lotion and leave. He had warned the personnel manager about hiring any other women on the basis of their looks, but Rich was a lecherous old man, and Harry assumed he wouldn't listen. When Rich had escorted Angela into his office, Harry had been genuinely surprised. "Well, Angela, tell me a little about yourself." "You mean my past jobs, or personal stuff, or what?" "No personal things, unless you feel they have a bearing on your qualifications. I just want to know what things you've done, and what you liked about those jobs." She lowered her eyes. Harry sighed and was immediately sorry, because she looked up at him, and he saw the little twitch at the corners of her mouth. Damn, if Rich couldn't send him a whore, he'd send him a stupid broad with no experience. "I-I haven't worked outside the home for about five years. Before that, I worked for a small retailer doing inventory control." She'd stuttered a little. Damn! He was making her more nervous than she was at the start of the interview. When interviewing someone, Harry remembered, you're supposed to put them at ease, so you can find out what kind of worker they are likely to be. I'll go with this, he thought; most people like to talk about their work. Maybe she'll relax a little. His smile received a small grin in return. "Well, tell me more about that, it sounds interesting. In the engineering world, we don't have to worry much about inventory except to make sure that we have enough plotter pens. Why don't you tell me a little about your responsibilities and what you did?" "Well...I put things on the shelf..., and I counted them every day, and...." Her eyes searched his for some indication of understanding, and found what she had feared. She sniffed and stood as a tear streamed down her cheek. "I'm sorry for wasting your time, Mr. Rand. I was just a store clerk. The woman at the employment agency told me to say I worked in inventory control. She said it sounded more professional than clerk. I feel really bad about this, and I think I'll just leave." Harry suddenly felt something for her, although had he been asked, he wouldn't have been able to explain the feeling. It just occurred to him that he wanted her to succeed in landing this job. Maybe it was that slut Sandy. Her qualifications had been excellent, and her interview was textbook, but she had cost him more in lost time than the view had been worth. At least Angela didn't want to misrepresent her ability. "Now, now, Angela. Don't rush off so soon. You don't even know what type of person I'm looking for, do you? No? I thought not." Angela produced a tissue from her purse and dabbed at her eyes. "I'm so sorry. I don't usually cry so easily, but I really need a job, and this is the fifth interview I've had. All the rest turned me down and hired younger girls. I didn't think thirty-one was that old, but I can't compete with their looks, and I don't have much experience." "Legally, I shouldn't tell you this, but I've just fired one of those girls you say you can't compete with, and I'm not looking to hire another. As for experience, you haven't told me much about your last job. Please..., sit down, and forget everything what's-her-name told you. Just talk to me. Tell me why your job was important." "Well, I always thought it was pretty important, even though it didn't pay much. I had to keep track of all the hosiery in the store and make sure all the sizes were on display, and that everything was kept neat. The manager told me once that their sales went up right after they hired me, and I felt pretty good about that." Angela looked at Harry and grinned. "I even caught a shop lifter, and they gave me a fifty dollar bonus." "You caught a shoplifter?" "She was taking the pantyhose out of those little eggs and stuffing them in her bra." Angela giggled. "By the time I saw her, she was starting to look pretty lopsided, if you know what I mean. She was right-handed, so she stuffed them all in the left side. I called security, and the next month, I had to testify in her trial." From that point, Harry enjoyed the interview. Angela had little relevant education or experience, but seemed to him to be intelligent and willing to take on any task. He shook her hand and walked her out of the building, and then called Rich and told him to hire her. The first couple weeks were a little rough, but Angela learned quickly. He started looking forward to seeing her every morning and hearing her cheery, "Good morning, Mr. Rand." After a month, he informed her that he wasn't Mr. Rand; he was Harry, and would prefer to be addressed in that manner. After that, the formal greeting gave way to "Hi, Harry", followed by her flashing smile and sparkling eyes. He began to feel as if she made it her business to anticipate his every need, because he seldom asked for anything without receiving the reply, "I noticed we were out, so I ordered some yesterday, and it'll be here this afternoon. You signed the requisition, remember?" As usual, he'd been too busy to notice everything he signed, and had stopped worrying about her purchases anyway. That she was finding her role in the position was proven the day he asked her to find out what flights were available for his trip to Detroit. "Your schedule says your meeting is at nine in the morning, and there aren't any flights that will get you there the same day, so I booked a flight for three this afternoon. You have a rental car waiting and you're staying at the Daybrook Inn on Ten Mile. You should arrive about five, so you'll have plenty of time to eat and rest up before your meeting." She beamed a smile when he gave her the look of astonishment, and then quickly turned and walked out of his office. The months that followed went well for both Harry and Angela. She was proving to be the type of assistant he had always wanted, and Angela, although she was a bit of a loner, she was becoming friendly with Rich's secretary, Bess. After a couple of months, Angela volunteered to handle some of Bess' work on overtime, and according to Rich, she was doing excellent work in this task also. Harry often congratulated himself on his wisdom in hiring the little, small busted, brunette. As in most places of employment, a constant stream of gossip flowed through the office from cubicle to cubicle. Usually, the tasty bits of rumor were nothing more than mis-connection of unrelated small facts and didn't warrant much attention, but Harry's ears pricked one day as he and Kevin were having lunch. Kevin actively followed the flow of supposition and shaky conclusions that made up the stuff of whispered conversations, and gained much of his information from female employees. Although Kevin was married, Harry often wondered if he was gay, because women would tell him things they kept guarded even from their closest female friends. "I really feel sorry for Angela, don't you?" "Why. She's a great employee, always on time, and can always stay late if I need her to. On top of that, she seems to know exactly what I need, at exactly the moment I need it. She dresses conservatively and she doesn't stick her boobs out at every guy who walks by like Sandy did. She's doing great." "I'm not talking about here and now, I'm talking about before." "OK, I'll bite. Explain yourself." "Well, Rita, down on Five, knows Angela's cousin. Angela's been divorced twice in the last five years." "So, that's not all that uncommon anymore." "The first asshole left her with a baby girl, and drove off to Vegas with some nineteen year old." "I didn't know she had a daughter." "She doesn't, not anymore at least. The little girl caught one of those childhood diseases, measles, I think..., yeah that was it, but somehow, it turned into rheumatic fever. They didn't identify it in time, and the little girl died. The cousin told Rita that it took a long time for Angela to come to grips with the loss, and that she spent some time in therapy. That was a little less than two years ago." "Shit, I had no idea. I can't imagine what that must have felt like. It kind of makes me glad I not married with a couple of kids. I think it would kill me to lose a child." "Yeah, that's the worst part, but her second husband hurt her too. She married him and then found out he was impotent. Seems like the guy always did lots of kissing and hugging, but told her they should wait until they were married. He confessed on the honeymoon. She actually had the marriage annulled, I guess, instead of divorcing him. Her cousin's still not sure she's over all that. You might watch, just in case." Angela didn't show the pain she must have felt, and even though Harry watched closely for any signs of instability, her performance only continued to improve. After a month, he chalked the worry up to Kevin's imagination, and forgot about the conversation. Orbitron landed a huge contract for design work on the rebuild of the Duluth shipping docks, and the contract became a once in a lifetime opportunity for Harry. The hours of calculations and specification writing stretched late into the night for weeks on end. Angela stayed late when he needed her, and she always had plenty of the coffee that kept him going. On the nights when he forgot the time, Angela would appear in his office at about seven with dinner from some carryout place, and the two of them would take a break to eat. Her assistance proved invaluable, because she had developed the ability to decode his indecipherable script and turn it into the dry, boring statements of work, and descriptions of materials and construction methods of which design specifications are constructed. At first, he tried to proofread each typewritten page, but soon learned this was a waste of his time. She never made mistakes, always corrected his spelling, and upon more than one occasion, she had found inconsistencies between two documents. On a Friday, a week before the proposal was due, Angela brought the last page to his office. He only glanced at it before adding it to the binder. On Monday, Angela would send the binder to be duplicated, and on Wednesday, he would fly to Duluth for the presentation. Angela, in her usual efficient manner, had already booked the flight, car and room. "Angela, were finally finished. I couldn't have done it without you." She blushed. "Thanks, but I really didn't do all that much. It was all your ideas and figures. I just did the typing and collating." "Nonsense. We're a team, and unless I miss my guess, this team just hit a home run. If this goes as I expect, we're going to celebrate when I get back." "OK, if you insist, but right now, I'm starving. How 'bout I treat you to a real dinner instead of more Chinese or Mexican? It'll be on me, this time, instead of on the company. Think of it as my way of saying thanks for giving me a chance. Uh, one thing though. I ride the bus to work, so would you mind driving?" She directed him to a quiet little Italian restaurant called Rene's. Rene's not only had wonderful cuisine, it had a decent wine list and a small dance floor. It was almost nine when they finished dinner and were sipping espresso. A jazz trio had set up next to the dance floor, and were playing just under the hum of conversation in the restaurant. Out of the blue, Angela asked Harry if he wanted to dance. "Well, it's not really appropriate is it? I mean, you're my employee, and -" "Oh, don't worry, I won't sue you or anything later. I just feel like dancing. Come on. It'll be fun." He held her at the distance he judged acceptable for a friendly dance, and they clumsily moved through the first song. "You know what? I could dance better if I was closer to you. I can't feel the way you want me to go." She grinned up at his face. "Honestly, Harry, I think you're afraid of me. I won't bite, I promise." She snuggled to him and laid her cheek on his chest. "Now that feels much better, doesn't it?" Harry wasn't sure if this much body contact would be considered acceptable should they be seen by someone else in the organization. Most companies frowned on that sort of thing out of a fear of litigation, and Orbitron was no exception. Every employee in a supervisory position had mandatory training each year on avoiding exactly what he and Angela were doing. Still, she did feel nice pressing against him, and the wine had warmed him just enough to keep his paranoia somewhat at bay. He slipped his arm under her left shoulder, pulled her right hand to his chest, and they danced the second song. When the hands of the clock had crept past ten, both Harry and Angela had given up all pretense of being boss and employee, and were just two people enjoying each other's company. Their conversation between dances was of their likes and dislikes, of their youth, and of their future plans. Harry noticed that Angela artfully steered the conversation away from herself if it threatened to encompass the last five years, but he didn't mind. It was just great being able to talk to a woman without having to worry about work, laws, and how much he was impressing her. Harry had never had much luck with women in a romantic sense. The intricacies of the courtship ritual were too illogical and complicated for his technical mind. There seemed to be no definite timetable or sequence of events that should take place, and without this structure he felt somewhat lost. Buying gifts for women was extremely difficult, because, although he understood the aspects of civil engineering better than most of his peers, he was completely baffled by what women wanted and needed. Harry also found it difficult to make casual conversation with most women, because he usually couldn't decide to believe the words or the body language he got in response to his statements. Angela seemed so different, so unassuming, and so undemanding, and as they talked, he realized just how relaxed he had become, and how much he enjoyed being with her. At a little past eleven, Angela looked at her watch, touched her chest with an open palm, and exclaimed, "God, look at the time. It's a good thing we don't have to work tomorrow. We'd both be dead on our feet." She smiled at Harry. "Thank you for a wonderful evening, Harry. You're quite a guy, once a girl gets to know you. Uh- oh, you're not gonna to fire me for that remark, are you? I remember what you said about Sandy." She laughed. "No, I'll take that as a compliment. You're pretty special yourself." "Well, Miss Special has to get herself home and into bed, or she won't wake up 'til noon. Could I impose on you to drive me home. I can take the bus, but it gets kinda scary at this time of night." The apartment was half of a duplex at the end of a cul-de-sac in an older subdivision. He stopped the car in the drive and walked her to the step. "Well, Angela, I've delivered you safe and sound to your door, and didn't have to defend your honor even once. Thanks again, for all your help...and for tonight." Her voice was almost a plea. "Would you like to come in for some more coffee? I need to unwind a little before I'll be able to sleep, and I enjoy talking with you." Harry couldn't say no. She unlocked the door, stepped inside and slipped off her heels, said "There's a bath down the hall", and trotted upstairs. Harry sighed in relief as he drained his bladder. The urge had caught him midway between the restaurant and her apartment, and he hadn't known how to gracefully bring up the subject. He rinsed his hands in the pristine sink, dried them on the peach towel, and remembered to lower the seat. He walked back down the hall to the living room, and stopped short at the sight. The room was covered with framed pictures. There were photos hanging on the walls, sitting on the coffee and end tables that framed the overstuffed couch and chairs, and a few large ones sat on the mantle of the cobblestone fireplace. Some were of Angela, but most were of a baby girl, or of Angela with the baby girl. He noticed a few had been carefully trimmed from the standard photo print dimensions, and surmised the missing portion had contained the image of her ex-husband. She called from the kitchen and startled him. "Harry, would you like regular, or chocolate-hazelnut?" "Oh, regular is fine. I never got into flavored coffees all that much." The baby girl was a sweet little tow-headed cutie with an open, toothless smile. Angela shone in her eyes and nose. Probably in a few years, she would have had her mother's dark brown tresses. In the sleeping pictures, she looked like one of the little angels that decorate Christmas cards. The photographs seemed to be a chronological record of this little girl from the red, wrinkled, squinting little face in the standard hospital issue cap and mittens to the toddler taking her first tentative steps into Angela's outstretched arms. "Becky would have been three in a month. You probably think I'm crazy, too, don't you? I've overheard the women at work in the restroom. My cousin talks too much for my own good." Angela stood beside him with a tray of cups, cream and sugar, and the coffee carafe. "Well...no, I don't think you're crazy. I couldn't judge that because I've never lost...well, nothing like that has ever happened to me. I don't know what I'd do." "The shrink said I needed to try to remember the good times, and to put her death behind me. That's easy for him to say. He didn't carry her for nine months, and feel every move she made. He didn't feel the pain of giving birth leave for the thrill of holding a tiny new person that was made in my body. He didn't feel her little mouth when she first nursed, and he didn't feel her little fingers squeezing my breast. I know he meant well, but he didn't help much. I think I had to figure this out by myself, and these pictures are my way. When I sit here at night, it's almost like she's still here with me. I know she's a little baby angel now, and I'm happy for her, but I still find comfort in her pictures. Please don't think I'm off my rocker. It's just my way of coping. I hope you understand." He started to say something comforting, but fumbled trying to find the words. Angela seemed to sense this. "You don't have to say anything, Harry. Anyway, the coffee's ready." She sat the tray on the coffee table and filled the two cups. He hadn't really looked at Angela until now. His mind had been occupied at first with the pictures, and then with her explanation. The Angela standing in front of him was a different woman than the Angela of the office. The white silk loose jacket over the white silk pajama pants was stunning against the brown of her long hair and tanned face. The jacket had no fastening other than the sash that kept the front wrapped around her torso, and the overlap kept gaping open enticingly when she moved. The deep, v-shaped opening revealed only more white silk, but was still deeply erotic. She had evidently removed her bra, because her small breasts moved sensuously under the shimmering material. Her toes peeked out of small white slippers. For Want of a Child "Harry, is something wrong? You're staring at me. Oh, darn it, I'm sorry. This is what I put on at night, and I didn't think. Wait a minute while I go change." "Angela, it's all right. I've just never seen you in, uh, causal clothes before. You look very nice. That's why I was staring." "OK, but if I'm bothering you, I can change." She snickered and popped her hand over her mouth. "Maybe I should rephrase that. If these clothes make you uncomfortable, I'll go put on something a little less provocative, like jeans and a sweater." "No, Angela, you're fine, really. We're both adults here, and I'm not going to start acting like some stupid teenage boy who's just seen his aunt in her underwear." They both laughed. The coffee was good, and the conversation was better. The more they talked, the more he realized they had much in common. She didn't speak of her daughter again, although he saw her glance lovingly at a picture now and then. They rambled from one subject to another, from his early jobs to her high school prom dress, and somehow ended up talking about the ridiculous love scenes in some movies. "I don't understand why movies always show a couple staring at each other for what seems like hours before they kiss. I never waited long to kiss a guy if I really wanted to. Staring at his face doesn't do much for me." She chuckled. "In high school, the guys all had pimply faces, and I couldn't stare long without screaming at them to try washing more often. It was much better to just close my eyes and smooch away. I even enjoyed it with a couple of them. How 'bout you." Her voice became deep and throaty. "Do you stare longingly into a girl's eyes before you kiss her deeply, like in the movies, or... do you just yank her up and plant one on her?' "Well it's hard to say. I haven't kissed all that many women. I suppose it would depend on the circumstances." Angela lifted her legs to the couch, turned on her bottom, and draped herself over his chest. She stared into his eyes and smiled. "And if these were the circumstances?" Harry was acutely aware of several things at that moment. He was both amazed and excited by her action, and the excitement was being urged on by the soft press of her breasts into his chest. His pants were becoming uncomfortable as they tried to contain his manhood, and he was fighting an inner struggle between his position as her supervisor and her position across his chest. He was about to say they shouldn't be doing this when Angela exhaled slowly, and the coffee scent of her breath tingled against his cheek. "I suppose I would kiss the woman, if I liked her." "And do you like me?" "Yes, I do." Angela pulled herself to meet his lips, and Harry felt the urgency of her passion in the wet movement of her mouth against his, and in the searching of her small tongue. He kissed back in kind, and felt her shiver in his arms. She pulled herself tight against his chest and seemed to be trying to climb up his body. Her breasts molded themselves to his chest, and then rubbed across. Hard nipples raked over his shirt buttons. She gently released him, and opened her eyes. Her voice was soft, sultry, and full of desire. "And what would you do now?" "If the situation were different-" "Ahh, but the situation is different. We're not at work. We're just two people alone in my apartment. I know what I'd like you to do." He felt stupid even saying it, because he knew the answer, and was more than a little apprehensive. "What?" "I'd like you to take me upstairs to bed." "Angela, I can't. I'm not...prepared." She kissed him again. "Don't worry about that. I take birth control pills to regulate my cycle, so I'm safe. Please make love to me." Before he could say no, she kissed him again, and his will vanished into her lips. They walked upstairs into the darkened bedroom. The blankets were pulled down; he supposed she did this every night because it fitted her nature of making everything right. She kissed him again, as if in reassurance of her willingness, and then unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it from his shoulders. He slipped the tie on the sash of her jacket and she shrugged her shoulders. The filmy garment fell noiselessly to the carpet. Angela fumbled with his buckle until he unfastened it and stepped out of his slacks. She rolled the silk pajama pants over her hips and they too fell to the floor. While he removed his shoes and shorts, Angela lay back on the bed. He didn't see her place the pillow under her hips. Harry knelt over Angela and ran his hands down her sides. Her slender body had little padding over the ribs, and she squirmed at the sensation. "Sorry, I'm a little ticklish." Her hips were full and soft, and the path down the outside of her thighs was silky smooth. His hands retraced their journey, and at the end, slipped over her chest to brush her breasts. They were not as small as her work clothing and the pajamas made them look, but she was still not large. The twin mounds were firm but not hard, and when he palmed her nipples, the taut, wrinkled little nubs pushed back at his hands. Angela gasped, and pulled his hands tight. Harry bent to kiss her, and she responded with open lips grasping for his own. As she tried to touch every part of his mouth with her searching tongue, she gently pushed his right hand down over her belly to the soft curls that lay between her thighs. The soft legs opened at the touch of fingertips brushing the puffy outer lips, and when a fingertip slipped between them, Angela softly moaned. Harry was entranced by her response, and her kisses and small sounds of passion were exciting him to an intense level. When he felt her slender fingers close gently around his manhood, he shuddered. The fingertips delicately brushed the underside and sent a wave of sensation through his body before closing again and starting a slow, rhythmic stroking. His fingers found the rippled inner lips that guarded her passage, and gently fondled. She was wet with passion, and his fingertip easily slipped up to find the growing little nub at the top of her sex. He gently circled it with his index finger and felt the gentle pulsation of her hips as she rocked against his caress. Harry curled his middle finger into her passage and softly rubbed the firm upper surface. His thumb replaced his finger on the little button and Angela arched off the bed. She threw her arms around him and pulled him between her thighs. "God Harry, I need you." The passage was a snug fit, but Harry took his time and let her accept him. When he slid inside to his full length, she hugged him tight and buried her face in his shoulder. As he began slowly stroking in and out, she softly kissed his neck and shoulders, and her nails gently raked his back. It seemed as if little time had passed before Angela began gasping at each thrust, and soon she was pushing back at him and driving him deeper and deeper. She began to cry out, and so hard were her the thrusts of her hips that Harry felt her cervix press against the head of his shaft with each stroke. Angela moved her hands to cup his hips and pulled him into her each time she arched to meet him, and the sensation of her nails digging into his butt drove him over the edge. He spurted his seed to splash against the opening to her womb, and felt the contraction of Angela's passage as she neared her own peak. The ripple began somewhere in her thighs, flowed in a wave through her hips, and finally caused her soft belly to quake beneath him. She gasped, then cried out and pulled him tight as her body rocked quickly over his length. He splashed her inner belly twice more with his semen before they both slowly relaxed. She held him to her until he slipped from her body, kissed him deeply, and then gently rolled him to her side. Harry tried to keep stroking her body and kissing her, but he soon fell asleep. He woke to his strange surroundings and took a moment to remember. He opened his eyes to daylight streaming through the window and to Angela looking at him. She was lying with her hips on a pillow and her feet were drawn to her hips and held her knees in an upright position. She smiled and stroked his cheek stubble with her soft hand. Harry caressed the underside of her breast. "Is that the way you always sleep?" "Only when I've been with a wonderful lover like I was last night." He rolled to his side to face her and she moved her head to meet his kiss. Her hand began brushing his chest. "I love the feeling of the hair on your chest. It makes the best feeling against my nipples." Harry chuckled. "I didn't think you noticed, last night. You were pretty busy making me crazy." "Mmmm, I noticed more than you think. I think you liked it when I did this." Her hand moved to cup his hip and pull him toward her. "And I think you liked this too." She gently pulled on his shaft, and he stifled a groan. Angela kissed him again, and pulled him on top of her. "Harry, I've been awake thinking of last night for an hour, and I need you again. Make love to me again, now." Foreplay seemed not to be on her agenda, and as soon as his shaft touched the soft, curl covered lips, she arched to drive him deep into her belly. After a few minutes, he realized she was making love to him and not the reverse. He just relaxed and kept pace with her and soon she was moaning for release once again. Harry felt her finger slip between them and begin rubbing the firm little mound of flesh that caressed the top of his shaft, and when she cried out and lifted them both from the bed, he simply let go. He felt the seed rush from his manhood to fill her already wet passage, and when she lifted them again, he felt the end of her passage press firmly against him. Her peak was not so long as last night, but seemed more intense, and the shudders that ran through her body spurred his body to explode in spurting sperm twice more. He lay cradled between her thighs and panted until he got back his breath. Angela hugged him tight, and he felt wetness on his shoulder. He gently pushed away from her and saw the tears in her eyes. "Angela, what's the matter? You're crying." "It's nothing", she sobbed. "I'm just very happy, happier than I've been in a long time." The presentation of the package went as Harry had predicted, and Orbitron was going to make a ton of cash on the deal. He and Angela did celebrate, as he had promised, and they ended up spending the night at her apartment again. They made love slowly and passionately, and Harry began to realize Angela meant more to him than any woman he had ever known. It bothered him a little that she again cried afterwards, but she assured him it was because she was happy. It was a blow that nearly knocked him to the floor when she handed him the resignation letter. The words were the standard for a graceful bow-out of a professional from her position, but he barely read them. Only two months had passed since their work had landed the contract in Duluth, and he didn't understand. Angela said something about her mother being ill, and that she had to take care of her, but his mind was numbed at the prospect of losing her. She wanted the resignation to be immediate, but when she kissed him good-bye, he didn't want to let her go. She finally pushed herself away and walked out the door. Harry went home early and stared at the walls of his apartment until he fell asleep on the couch. The next week, he was promoted to Senior Engineering Supervisor, given a raise plus a bonus for the Duluth job, and he moved into a larger office. It took months for him to return to a semblance of his former self. His work didn't suffer, because in his work, he could forget about Angela for a time. Being at home was excruciating. It was difficult to sleep, and he began having a couple of beers just before bed. They seemed to help, but the next morning, the empty feeling would come back. He started working later and later to avoid sitting alone at home. After six months, he could smile again, and after a year, almost no one noticed any difference. He missed her laugh, he missed her smile, and he missed the way she always knew what he needed. Jenny was a good assistant, but the bond was just not there. He was having lunch with Kevin and happened to mention the difference between Jenny and Angela. "Hey, you just reminded me of something I heard from Rita. Remember Rita, on Five?" "Yes, get on with it." "Well, she talked to Angela's cousin last week, and you'll never guess what the cousin said." "I'm waiting." The words sliced through him like a razor. "Angela has a baby daughter." "So she left here to get married. The thing with her mother was all a sham." "Nope, the cousin says she's still single. The baby was born three months ago. Rita saw the pictures and says the little tike's really cute. Angela named her Harriet. The cousin says Angela's happier than she's seen her in years." "Did this cousin say where Angela is living now?" "Why, yes. She never moved. Why?" "Oh...maybe I'll send the baby something. Angela was the best assistant I ever had, so I at least owe her a baby gift, don't you think?" Harry was shaking as he made the drive across the city to her apartment. Why? The word was in every thought that flashed across his mind. If the baby was his, why would she leave. It had seemed like they had a special relationship. Why had she not said anything? Why didn't he tell her how he felt when she wanted to leave? Why hadn't he tried to stop her instead of standing there like a blithering idiot as she walked out the door? It took a few minutes for him to gather enough courage to take the sidewalk to the door. He rang the bell, and when no one answered in a few seconds, he turned to walk away. He started to take the first step when he heard her voice. "Harry?" She was a little more filled out than before. Her hips seemed wider, and her breasts were definitely larger, but the smile on her face when he turned was the same. She ran to him and hugged him tight. He could only stand with his arms at his sides. "Angela, why?" "I can't explain out here. Come inside, please?" They walked into the living room and she put a finger to her lips. "Shhhh. I just put her down for her nap." He thought he saw Angela's eyes and nose on little Harriet's face, but her chin and mouth looked a lot like the baby pictures his mother had carried for all these years. She stirred and rubbed a tiny fist in her eye, her mouth opened as if to cry, and then she relaxed again. It was strange for Harry to meet his daughter this way. Even though he had never seen her, he felt a funny tugging in his chest. "You're smiling, Harry. I think you like her." Angela led the way to the kitchen, and offered him a chair. She sat opposite of him, and took his hand between hers. "You can't imagine how many times I've rehearsed this, but now that you're here, I've forgotten it all. I'm sorry, Harry. I should have told you, I know, but I was afraid." "Afraid of me? Why?" "Ever since Becky died, I've had this emptiness inside. The doctor's couldn't fix it, and it nearly drove me mad. I spent six months in a hospital trying to forget before I realized I never would. I came home and put up all the pictures of Becky that I had, and tried to start over. You probably heard about my second husband, but you don't know why it was such a horrible experience. I decided that the empty feeling would never go away unless there was someone to replace it...another baby. When I found out he couldn't give me that, I almost went back to where I started, but Becky stopped me. I don't know how to explain it, but she let me know she was happy and that I should keep going. That's when I started looking for a job, and that's how I met you." "But why were you afraid of me? I'd never hurt you." "At first, the job kept me from thinking about Becky, and later, I started thinking about you. I even read your personnel folder that time I substituted for Bess. Orbitron thinks a lot of you, and you will go far. I knew we could never be together, because you're so much smarter than I am, and I'm not really the type of woman a man in your position picks for a wife. I decided that since I couldn't have you, maybe you could give me a baby. On that first night, I knew my time was right, and I did everything I could to get pregnant. I even stayed up all night on that pillow with my knees up so everything would stay inside me. The next morning, I was waiting for you to wake up, and this warm feeling just rushed over me. I knew then that I was pregnant. It felt so wonderful that I got all worked up, and had to feel you inside me again. The doctors say you can't tell when it happens, but I just know I did. I waited until the test kit said I was, and then resigned before I started to show. It sounds really selfish, now, and I suppose it was, but I'm not ashamed. It was wrong not to tell you, but Harriet is making the feeling go away. Now, the only emptiness is the loss of what we had, but since I knew it would never work, I resigned myself to living with it. It is hard sometimes, because when she nurses, the feelings in my tummy remind me of that night." "I had hoped you would never find out. I didn't want you to do something because you thought you had to. You have a long way to go in your career, and I'd only get in the way of that. Sooner or later, you would resent your plain old average wife, and I'd lose you anyway. Now that you know about Harriet, I want you to know that you don't owe me anything, and I don't want anything from you except maybe for you to try to understand." "And you figured this all out for yourself?" Angela nodded, and Harry had to laugh. "You know what? I believe you are crazy. You've spent all your time thinking up how you'd be bad for me. But then, I suppose I didn't give you any reason to think I felt anything for you, so it's my own damn fault. Angela, I've been through Hell and back over the last year. I'm a little slow sometimes, and it wasn't until after you left that I realized how much you meant to me. I've been working eighteen hours a day just so I didn't have to go home and stare at the walls. My life is shit, I can't do anything except work, and I drink at least two beers every night just so I can fall asleep. And now, you expect me to just take your apology and forget about everything. Well Honey, it doesn't work that way. I don't care why you did this. All I know is that if I can't have you back, I'll probably end up in that same hospital talking to the same doctors, and believe me, they aren't going to help me either. I don't have any pictures of you for my walls, so what am I supposed to do? Now please, will you get that plain old wife thing out of your head and listen to what I have to say?" Angela nodded, and he saw the tears in her eyes. "I've been a complete idiot by believing that story about your mother, and then never trying to find you. I guess I thought if you liked me, you'd come back. Since you never did, I didn't want to try to start something that was never there. When Kevin told me about the baby, I had to see you. Angela, I can't promise that I'll ever be better than I am, but I can promise that you'll always be the only woman in the world for me. I don't know where you got the idea that men pick their wives for their looks, but they don't. If you don't believe that, you should see Kevin's wife. And you aren't plain and average; you just made yourself believe that. I realized, after you left, that nobody could ever replace you in my life. I want to make sure that never happens again. And, don't you think Harriet needs a father?" They moved into his apartment until they could find a house. Harriet was walking before either of them was ready, and set about clearing tables and shelves at every opportunity. She's inherited her mother's efficiency, as Harry says, and never wastes any time before getting into trouble. She's a good little girl, really, and they both love her to death. Angela is pregnant again, and is bursting with pride at the prospect of a new baby. They don't know it yet, but this one is going to be a boy, and he'll look a lot like Harry. Harry is content with Angela and Harriet, but I know he really wants a son, so I helped things along just a little, just like I helped Angela get started again, and just like I helped her find Harry. Their son is going to be an engineer, someday, just like his dad, but I think he's going to be a little better with women. After all, if all men were as slow as Harry, there would never be any babies born. Sometimes, I'm a little sad that I can't be with them, because I think I would have enjoyed having a sister and a brother, but my time there is done. I'll just stay here and watch over them. After all, what else are baby angels for? For Want of a Child * * * * * Thanks for reading this work. Please vote to indicate how much you enjoyed it, and send feedback if you can spare the time. Your votes and feedback are the only way I will know how much you enjoyed my effort, and furnish the only means to improve my writing. Thanks again, Ronde.