by K. C. Crowne
“And that’s how it was until the day Madeline was born. We were at the hospital waiting for it to happen, and then…” I drifted off, knowing what came after was a little on graphic side.
“And then what?”
“Some, uh, stuff happened in the supply closet.”
His eyes flashed with mirth. “Some stuff? Are you kidding? Dude, you better give more details than that.”
When Duncan and I were younger and in med school, we were constantly swapping stories about our conquests. We were always in competition, always trying to outdo one another. But with Gia, it was different. For some reason, I didn’t want to brag. It was almost as if what she and I had was too important to be reduced to some hook-up story. And I wasn’t about to ask, but I had a feeling Duncan felt the same way about Annie, even before they were married.
“We talked, and she told me she wanted to be just friends. But I decided to push it.”
“Push it?”
“Yeah, as in pushing her into a supply closet to hook up right there in the hospital,” I confessed.
He laughed, throwing his head back for a good one. “Are you fucking serious? You guys screwed while I was in the other room waiting for my daughter to be born?”
Hearing him say it out loud was more than enough to make me keenly aware of how low-class it was. “Man, when you say it like that…”
He shook his head, still laughing. “No, it’s fine. Hey, gotta pass the time somehow, right?”
“Something like that.” My words came out in a grim tone – I was already thinking about what happened after.
Duncan’s expression turned serious, noting my tone. “What happened?”
“We were in the supply closet, and things were getting…intense. But then this weird feeling came over me. I didn’t want to hook up with her in some shitty, dingy supply storage room. It felt wrong. So I backed off, told her we should go back to my place. Well, that gave her the chance to think about what was happening, what she was about to do. She backed off.”
“And let me guess – she told you never to talk to her again.”
I let out a snort of a laugh. “Yeah.”
“Just picking up on a theme here. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she’s saying that because she doesn’t know what else to do.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t read her mind, obviously, but I’m getting the impression when you two are together, Gia gets all kinds of confused. She wants you, but she hates you for what you did. And rather than sift through her feelings, she tells you to leave her alone forever. Kind of a throwing the baby out with the bathwater sort of thing.”
“Then what do I do?” The moment the words came out of my mouth, I paused. I never asked that question. I’d always been a man who prided himself on knowing what needed to be done, never doubting. But when it came to Gia, it was an entirely different matter.
I felt lost, helpless. And I didn’t like it one bit.
Duncan shook his head. “Maybe she means it this time. After all, you only saw her again because Madeline happened to make her appearance. There might be a chance you never get to say another word to her. Life’s not like the movies. There’s not always closure.”
The idea of me and Gia being over like that made me sick to my stomach. We’d known each other since we were kids, and that was how our story was going to end, after an abortive hookup in a hospital supply closet? I wanted to quickly dismiss the idea.
“But if I see her again…”
“The truth, man. I know it’s a cliché, but that’s all there is to it. You need to tell her everything.”
“About what happened with me and Mariah?”
“About that whole fucked-up story – how Mariah pretended to be pregnant to get you on the hook to marry her.”
More tightness took hold of my chest at the idea of spilling my guts.
“I learned that with Annie,” he said. “You can’t have the kind of connection, the kind of openness you need with someone to really fall in love if you’re keeping so much locked away. It just doesn’t work. You’ll always be on a different wavelength. And there’s one more thing.”
“Why do I have a feeling I’m not going to like it?”
Duncan smirked. “Because you’re not.”
I sighed. “Then let’s hear it.”
“You have to open yourself up to her. It’s like pulling your chest open and exposing your heart. You’ll be standing in front of her, more vulnerable than you’ve ever been, and it’ll be up to her whether or not to stitch you back up or drop kick you right in the chest. But if you want her, that’s the only chance you’ve got.”
I said nothing, sipping my whiskey and staring out onto the mountains. He let me think while we finished our drinks. A few minutes later, Annie popped in and let us know the food had arrived. We sat down and got ourselves good and full on take-out lasagna, the good stuff that comes in those big foil pans, loaded with cheese and as greasy as it gets.
Wine went with the meal, of course, and after dessert of some pretty damn good tiramisu, I realized I was a tad too tipsy to drive home. Duncan and Annie were happy to let me stay in one of their guest rooms, and we spent the rest of the evening talking and catching up, the big Christmas tree looming large.
Watching Duncan and Annie and Madeline together, a happy family, their home full of love and warmth, filled my heart. They seemed…complete.
My last thoughts before drifting off to sleep were of Gia and whether or not I’d ever have with her what Duncan and Annie shared.
Or if maybe Duncan was right, that it was all over, that a happy ending would be nothing more than a dream.
Gia
My hands clasped over my belly, I used what little strength I had to roll over. A fresh wave of nausea coursed through me, and I closed my eyes to ride through it, to make sure it didn’t turn into full-on puking.
I grabbed my phone and checked the time – it was almost eleven. I rolled back onto my side and let out a frustrated moan, annoyed with this stupid nausea for cutting into my valuable work hours. Figured that the first time I got sick in years was when the biggest job of my life was only a few days away.
My phone buzzed – a text from Kenna letting me know she was only a few minutes away. I had to get up. If I was nauseous, then so be it. I’d work through it if I had to.
No time for a shower, so I quickly changed, threw on some presentable clothes, then brushed my teeth before putting my hair up into a messy bun. After that was coffee, and just as the pot was finished brewing, Kenna knocked on the door.
I opened and she quickly appraised me. “You look like shit.”
“Good to see you, too.”
Kenna flashed me a smirk as I stood aside for her to come in.
“You know, most bosses might not be too thrilled to hear their employees talk to them like that.”
“True, but you’re not like most bosses. And don’t tell me you want me to bullshit you when it comes to stuff like this.”
The coffee maker gurgled, and I closed my eyes as I worked through yet another wave of nausea. “I can’t handle this,” I said. “I’ve got way too much to worry about without adding some stupid sickness on top of it.”
“You still think this isn’t anything more than some virus or something? Have you even—”
“Nope, and I’m not going to.”
She laughed. “Ah, so you’re taking the if I don’t find out, then it’s not real angle. That’s a bold move.”
“I can’t even think about it.”
“Speaking of thinking about it, have you talked to your sexy doctor friend?”
I cocked my head to the side in confusion. “About what?”
“About the fact that you might be carrying his baby?”
“No way – not a chance. As far as I’m concerned, he’s still done.”
“But what if—”
“He’s done.” My stern tone brokered no argument.
She g
lanced over my shoulder and went over to the coffeemaker.
“There’s one good thing, though,” I said.
Clanging sounded out, followed by the faucet turning on. “What’s that?”
“I think about him whenever I’m throwing up. I’m hoping it ends up like one of those Pavlov’s dogs situation, where I start to associate him with being sick.”
“That’s certainly one way to handle it.”
“No cream in my coffee,” I said. “I still can’t even think about milk without wanting to void the contents of my stomach.”
“Sure, sure.”
I grabbed my laptop and heaved it onto my legs, the process seeming to take twice as much effort as it needed. I opened it and went to my inbox, my eyes glazing as I read through the responses from the various clients I’d contacted to handle the various odds and ends of the charity event.
I could barely focus. The nausea came and went in waves, and all I could do was wince and power through it. Kenna was busy in the kitchen, and I couldn’t even muster the energy to glance over and see what was taking her so long. Eventually, she set a hot mug in front of me of something that most definitely was not coffee.
“What is this?” I leaned forward, setting my computer aside, sniffing the herbal smell coming from the mug.
“It’s tea,” she announced, dropping into the seat near me, her own mug of coffee in her hands.
“Why did you make me tea? I brewed a whole pot of coffee.”
“Well, I was doing a little research online and found out that if you’re pregnant, it’s not a good idea to drink coffee – something about all the caffeine,” she said, waving a hand. “I mean, it said that one cup here and there is fine, but that’s at the most. So, I figured it’d be a good idea to switch to tea. And I saw you have some rooibos in there, which the websites I looked at said was perfect.”
The nausea faded for a moment, replaced by frustrated anger. “Are you serious?” I asked, annoyance in my voice. “Kenna, I’ve got a million things on my mind, I feel sick, and all I’ve been looking forward to since I got up is some damn coffee. And not even because of the taste – I just want to throw it back so I can focus on the biggest client of my career. The last thing I want to deal with right now is drinking fucking tea!”
My words came out sharp, and stern enough that Kenna’s eyes widened as she stared at me after my outburst. Tense silence hung in the air. I realized that I’d overstepped my bounds, gone too far.
“I just thought…” She trailed off, her voice soft.
I’d screwed up. I sighed, frustrated with myself. “Sorry. That was rude of me. It’s just…I’m feeling kind of overwhelmed right now, and the idea of being pregnant from some guy I don’t ever want to see again is enough to make me want to scream.”
“You might not be pregnant,” she said. “Aren’t you on birth control?”
“Technically, yes. But when you’re busy with work and your love life is practically non-existent, you get a little…lax when it comes to taking the pill.”
“Oh boy,” she replied. “I mean, I don’t want you to worry about it. I was thinking that it doesn’t hurt to be on the safe side, right?”
There was nothing I could say to that. I reached over and gave Kenna’s knee a squeeze. “I’m sorry. That was really nice of you, and I snapped.”
“No worries!” Her voice was chipper and cheerful, as if nothing in the slightest was wrong. “But try the tea. It’s supposed to be good for stress, too.”
Taking the mug into my hands, I sipped. It was mellow and herbal and pretty darn good. “Love it.”
Another smile from Kenna.
“Now, let’s get this thing knocked out of the park.”
Before I knew it, Christmas had come. Light flurries of snow fell from the slate gray sky above, the wind kicking them up into lazy swirls. I was dressed in a thick, gray Donegal sweater and comfy joggers, a pair of slippers on my feet. And throughout my morning of work, I was never without a mug of rooibos tea within reach.
Part of me considered taking the day off, relaxing with some TV, maybe even getting some reading done. But I had too much on my mind, and too much to take care of for the charity event getting closer with each passing day. And it sure as hell didn’t help matters that Gavin came to mind whenever I went over planning for the casino stuff.
Truth be told, it bummed me out a little that I didn’t have family to spend the day with. Dad was still in prison, and as far as I knew he wasn’t interested in talking to me. And Mom…no doubt she was off with this month’s new boyfriend.
I sighed and went back to work, doing my best to put it out of my head that it was even a holiday. However, as if thinking of her had affected the nature of reality, a call from Mom lit up my phone. I watched the phone buzz on the table, shifting position with each ring. Part of me wanted to ignore her, but God, it was the holidays.
“Hey, Mom!” I did my best to sound happy to hear from her.
“Hey there, kid!” she trilled. A foghorn blasted in the background. I could hear all kinds of commotion, noses that sounded like a party happening.
I was already exhausted, and the conversation hadn’t even begun. A long pause followed, a sign that neither Mom nor I really knew how to talk to each other. I hadn’t seen her in years, and she never seemed to be all that interested in coming to visit me. I was used to it. Normal parental relationships weren’t exactly a part of who I was.
“So…it’s Christmas!”
“Sure is.” I wrapped my hand around my tea mug, curling up in my chair and looking out the window. The clouds seemed to have darkened over the last few minutes – a hard snow seemed ready to fall any moment.
“Wouldn’t really know it where I am,” she said. “It’s eighty degrees and sunny as hell!”
Mom had always been full of energy, a real life-of-the-party kind of woman. With me, it was different. She always seemed distant, like I was nothing more than an imposition on her otherwise carefree life.
“That’s great. Glad to hear it.”
My words were empty. Sometimes I wondered why Mom and I even bothered to pretend we had any kind of normal relationship. Maybe it’d be easier for her just to cut ties with me so she could spend her life jet skiing and swimming with the dolphins or whatever she really wanted out of life. Because it sure as hell wasn’t a relationship with her only child.
“What about you?” she asked. “Got some big plans for today?”
“Not really. Just working. Maybe drinks with a friend later.” That wasn’t entirely the truth, but I’d spent enough effort trying to keep Mom in the loop to know she didn’t care all that much.
“That’s too bad! Young girl like you should be having fun, even if you’re single. Hey, you want my advice? Go hit up a bar tonight. Christmas is one of the best bar days! There’s always tons of people like you who don’t have family or boyfriends or whatever.”
Her saying that only brought to mind the little fact that I couldn’t drink. If I actually were pregnant.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You should! And what else is going on with you? I swear, it always feels like more and more time passes between when we finally get on the phone.”
Part of me wanted to say nothing was going on, to do whatever I needed to end the conversation as fast as possible. But another part of me wanted to give it a shot, to see if maybe, just maybe, she and I could bond over the crazy stuff happening with me.
“It’s…hard to explain,” I began. “I’ve got this insanely important event coming up, one that might make or break my career. And on top of that, this guy came back into my life who I never thought I’d see again. You remember Gavin from high school?” She hummed an affirmative noise. “Well, he’s Dr. Davenport now and he’s all kinds of into me despite breaking my heart into a million pieces a million years ago. And I want to scream at him every time I see him, to tell him how much it fucking hurt, what he did to me. Then…I don’t know, I’ve been feelin
g weird and my assistant Kenna thinks I might be pregnant. I just feel lost, like I’ve got no idea what to do with myself.”
The confession exhausted me. It was strange to talk to Mom, to be honest with her. I had no idea how she would respond, what she might say to me after such an emotional outburst.
She laughed. She really laughed.
Irked, I asked, “What’s so damn funny?”
A deep voice spoke in the background on Mom’s end. “Get your gorgeous ass off the phone and back into the water, baby.”
Mom let out another shriek of a laugh. “Get your hands off me, bud!”
“You know you love it.”
“That’s not the point.” She laughed again, followed by a sigh. “Sorry, kid. That was Rick, an insanely handsome scuba instructor I, ahem, met the other day. He’s actually around your age – maybe I’ll send him your way when I’m all done with him.” She laughed again.
“Mom, what do you think about what I just said?”
“Could you say it again? As soon as you started talking, Rick decided that was the right time to reapply the sunscreen.”
I sighed. She hadn’t heard a single word. “It’s nothing. Just venting about work.”
“Well, whatever it is I’m sure you’ll be fine. You’re a sharp one – always have been. By the way, you talk to your dad recently?”
“Not a word.”
“Good. Stupid asshole. You know, you’re the only good thing that came out of that mess.”
“Thanks.”
Mom let out another shriek. “Rick! I swear, if you don’t stop…Anyway, I’ll let you go. Don’t forget to get out there and have some fun, alright? You never were good at cutting loose, even when you were a kid. It’ll do you some good!”
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
“You should! Alright, time to get back in the water. Talk to you later, kiddo! Love you lots!”
Before I could even say goodbye, the line went dead. I tossed the phone onto the table, frustrated. But I wasn’t frustrated with Mom. I was frustrated with myself for thinking she’d be any different.
A knock sounded at the door. I scrunched my face, not sure who it could’ve been. Kenna told me she wanted to come by to drop off a present, but she was always good about texting when she was a few minutes away.
