She can't remember the last time they've gone a week without speaking to each other. The days seem to stretch out forever. She wants to ring him, or drop by his flat, but understands he needs his space to think the matter through. So she waits. And waits. And waits. Seven days later, he finally calls her. She sees his name on the caller ID, waits a three rings, and then answers.
"Tony. Hi."
"Carol."
He sounds like his old friendly self, and she breathes a sigh of relief.
"How've you been?"
"Fine. Good. Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"
She smiles, a bit surprised. But his invitation gives her hope.
"Yeah, I'd like that. Shall I bring a curry round to your place?"
There is a distinct pause before he answers her.
"No. Let's go out, shall we?"
"Sure."
"Antonio's, say seven-thirty?"
She raises her eyebrow at the mention of one of Bradfield's more stylish eateries. And she wonders.
"I'll meet you there."
"Good bye, Carol."
"Bye, Tony. See you later."
She sets down the phone and collapses back against her couch. His choice of restaurant is far from typical. In fact she knows they've never dined in such a prestigious location before. She tells herself to relax, to wait and see, but in her heart she has already started celebrating.
Carol arrives promptly at seven-thirty; Tony is already waiting for her. His clothes are a step up from his normal attire – not quite a custom cut suit, but a vast improvement from his usual wrinkled slacks and button down. She hurries to his side.
"You look lovely, Carol."
"Thank you. You're looking rather smart yourself."
He smiles self-deprecatingly and takes her by the elbow. She follows him to their table. It's not exactly a romantic corner booth, but it is cozy. He pulls out her chair for her, then settles into the seat facing her.
"You look lovely."
"You just said that."
"Did I?"
She nods, a sly smile playing on her lips.
"Still true though. Up for some wine?"
"I'd love some."
He peruses the menu and chooses an Australian Shiraz similar to what they usually imbibe in at his flat. And then they have no further business to attend to until the wine is delivered. She leans a bit across the table, expectancy sharpening her features.
"So?"
"So?" He echoes, not taking the bait.
"Have you considered what we talked about?"
A very odd thing happens. He lets out a long sigh and his shoulders slump a fraction of an inch.
"No time for chit chat?"
She looks at him, confused. She can't quite suss out what he's up to. He cuts her off before she can answer.
"I was hoping to enjoy a nice dinner with you first, before we got down to brass tacks. But I can see you're anxious to get that out of the way."
"No, Tony, that's not it all. I'm just…excited I suppose."
"I see."
The waiter interrupts their conversation, presenting the bottle of wine. Tony waves his acceptance in the waiter's general direction. In a matter of moments the wine has been uncorked, poured, and swirled into their glasses.
The silence is strained. Carol begins to worry.
"Tony…have I done something wrong?"
"Wrong?" He ponders the question for a moment, taking a hearty sip of Dutch courage. "That's such an abstract concept."
"You could have just said 'no'" She ventures.
"No, you haven't done anything wrong, Carol. But I don't think you're going to like what I have to say next."
Her heart knocks in her chest and her hands suddenly feel clammy.
"Oh?" Is all she manages.
"I have considered your request, Carol. And I'm not going to be your donor."
She feels tears welling up unexpectedly and shifts her gaze upwards, wiling them to slide back into her eyes. Tony reaches across the table and grasps her hand in his.
"I'm sorry, Carol. I can't."
She keeps reminding herself that she can't be angry with him, or hurt. That she doesn't have a right to expect his compliance, and that it isn't a rejection of her personally. That he has his reasons. But his refusal stings so keenly she could cry. Instead she steels herself up, takes a deep breath and levels her gaze at him.
"Then why did you bring me here? It's a bit posh if you just wanted break bad news to me, don't you think?"
He strokes his thumb over the back of her hand.
"I wanted to take you out somewhere nice." He sighs and withdraws his hand. "This was a bad idea. I'm sorry. Do you want to just finish the wine and go?"
She pinches the skin above her eyebrow.
"I really would."
Tony catches the waiter's attention, mutters something about his companion's headache, and settles the check. In a matter of moments they are back out on the street. Carol looks crestfallen, standing in the cold night air. He removes his jacket and drapes it over her. Tentatively, he wraps his arm about her shoulders, and leans his head into hers. He whispers softly into her ear and she has to fight back tears.
"Did you bring your car?"
"No, I took a cab."
"Let me take you home."
She allows him to Shepard her to his car. They drive on in silence, the street lights casting strange shadows across their faces. When he pulls to the curb in front of her flat he doesn't switch off the car. They sit with the motor gently idling.
"Will you come in?
He shakes his head.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Carol."
"Please?"
He peeks across at her from the corner of his eye. The look on his face surprises her. He looks heartbroken. She's run through so many expected reactions in her mind, but this is not one of them. For the life of her she can't understand what's wrong.
He gets out of the car and comes around her side. Helping her out, they walk up her steps.
"More wine?" She asks.
"I have to drive. I really shouldn't"
"But?"
"But I'll have another glass."
She brings it to him, and then joins him on the couch. And even though she's flummoxed and hurt she still wants to be near him. She leans against him, closer than usual. He stiffens slightly, but she doesn't care. She wants to get to the bottom of things.
"Tony, what's wrong?"
He exhales slowly, his breath hissing out from his puffed cheeks.
"I dunno."
"Yes you do. You've been acting like a weirdo since I asked you. Even more of a weirdo than usual."
"Yeah, I suppose I have."
"And?"
"And what?"
"An explanation? Tony, you have every right to say no, but it's not fair to just leave it at that. I need to know why."
"Do you?"
"Quit messing about."
"It's a bad idea, Carol."
Her mouth drops open in a look of surprise and hurt. It feels like a slap in the face.
"You don't think I'd be a good mum?"
He instantly regrets his choice of words. He lays his hand aside her face and touches his forehead to hers.
"You will be a wonderful mother. Believe me; I have no doubts about you at all."
"I don't understand."
"I'm being very selfish, Carol. Let's just leave it at that, alright?"
"No. Tell me."
He startles her by placing a tentative kiss on her cheek, just at the tender corner of her mouth. She feels lost when he pulls away and leaves the couch, but she gives him a moment to pace. He is gathering his thoughts, choosing his words carefully.
"You don't want to do this with me."
She looks at him inquisitively and he continues.
"You may think you do, Carol, but you don't. You're emotionally fragile at the moment, and your body is giving you a very strong imperative to reproduce. You think you're running out of time. But you're not, Carol."
He continues his pacing, finding it easier to speak with the distance between them. He can almost pretend they're discussing a case instead of the most intimate details of their lives.
"You're going to meet someone someday, and you're going to fall in love. And of course, he'll love you back. How could he not? It'll happen, Carol. You don't have to feel like time is slipping away from you."
"Sorry, Tony, I don't mean to be dense, but I still don't have a clue what you're talking about."
He's gazing at her intently, and she's surprised to see such a strength of emotion warring in his eyes.
"I grew up without a father, you know. And I'm not going to blame my eccentricities on that, but I know it affected me. Made me different from a lot of other boys. My mum…well….she wasn't much of a mum really. Not like you'll be. You'll be such a good mother. But that's not even the point."
He leans against the wall. Looking lost.
"Get to the point then."
"Alright, hypothetical. We go through with this. You have a baby. Two years down the road, three, you meet someone. And he's everything you've always wanted. He's smart and funny. Good looking. Probably even cooks. And I bet he's even very fond of Little Tony. It's going to be awkward, Carol."
"How so?"
"You're going to be resentful. You won't wish Little Tony away, of course, never that. You love him. He's your boy, isn't he? But you'll wish you had waited. And you'll need to direct that resentment somewhere."
"Tony…"
"Let me finish. Can you imagine how awkward that'll be? 'Oh, have you met Tony? My nutter friend? We work together sometimes, you know. And once I had his child.'"
Realization finally dawns on her.
"You'll resent me, Carol. You'll wish I had talked you out of it. I mean, you've got this perfect man, right there at your fingertips. Slowly but surely, you'll pull away. You'll stop calling. You won't need my help anymore. You'll want to get on with your life and I won't be a part of that. Pretty soon, it will just be you, and the man of your dreams, raising my child."
She rises, advancing on him, leaning against the wall uncomfortably close to him. She takes his face in her hands, and smoothes her hand over his hair. He holds his breath.
"I'd never call you a nutter."
Despite himself, he laughs.
"You say that now."
"I think you're talking a load of shit."
"Do you?"
"Yeah."
He waves a hand between them, pointing at himself.
"And you'd wish all this on a child. Bad coordination, poor social graces. Awful hair?"
"Your hair's not awful."
He snorts.
"Your eyes obviously are."
She smiles sadly at him.
"Tony, I think you underestimate your importance in my life."
"I know you're fond of me, Carol. I'm not totally daft."
"Tony…"
He cuts her off, pressing his lips gently to hers in a chaste kiss.
"Don't have a child BY someone you're fond of, Carol. Have a child WITH someone you love."
"And if that's not possible?"
He reaches between them and folds her hand into his.
"Then I'll go to the clinic with you and help you look through their books."
He pecks her quickly on the cheek, and just as quickly he's disappeared out her front door.