by Toby Neal
She texted Jake that she’d arrived as she took the stairs, supporting her sore ribs with a hand, and smiled to see Ginger and Tank galloping toward her down the open walkway. “Loosed the hounds, I see,” she said, as Jake approached.
“They’ve been cooped up all day, and we need to put together the furniture I bought. Brought in all the stuff with the super’s help.”
“Thanks, Jake.” Purchasing and hauling the furniture for two apartments up several flights of steps seemed to have wilted Jake’s usual insouciance; he looked tired, his eyes iron-gray, his mouth a stern line. Sophie patted the dog’s heads, and with one on either side of her, followed him to the doorway of her new apartment. “This is quite a project.”
“Not that bad. I’m almost done here, then I’ll go work on my place.” Jake had purchased a metal-framed futon that made into a queen size bed, a desk and office chair, some bags containing bedding, and appliances still in their boxes in the kitchen. The metal parts of the futon were spread out on the carpet carefully, along with a battery-powered screwdriver. Jake knelt, picked up the schematic, and continued with his assembly.
Sophie shooed the dogs away from his carefully laid out diagram and walked across the living room area to the sliding glass door. Out on the deck, she leaned her arms on the railing and took a few deep breaths of the salty air wafting off of Hilo Bay. Late afternoon sun gilded the ripples on the ocean’s surface with a shine like fool’s gold. “I like this place much better by day. Being able to see the ocean is lovely.”
Jake grunted, and she turned to peer at him. Focused on his project, his big shoulders bunched as he secured a rod to a section of curved metal piping. Jake seemed completely absorbed.
Sophie went on. “I think I might like the bed, since it doubles as a couch, left out here in the living room so I can look out the window at the ocean during the night.”
“I thought you wanted the extra room.” The drill whirred. “And liked your blackout drapes.”
“I want to try something different.” And maybe she would need the extra room—for the baby.
Sophie’s stomach roiled at the thought, but she breathed through it. Psychosomatic, that’s what this was. Just thinking about being pregnant was making her have all the symptoms.
Sophie walked into the kitchen and began unboxing an electric teakettle, noticing the already assembled desk and office chair in the bedroom. She could work in there with her laptop. Perfect for now. “Is the internet hooked up yet?”
“Yep.”
“Oh, good. Thank you.” Sophie unpacked the basic kitchen supplies and stowed them in Formica cupboards, feeling a pang of regret for the soulful treehouse she’d lived in so briefly. This conventional apartment was a big change from that—but still an upgrade from the motel they’d been in for the last weeks.
Jake was soon done with the assembly and they moved the futon couch/bed to where Sophie wanted it, close to the sliders so she could look out at night.
“I’ve got to get my place set up.” Jake headed for the door, all business.
“All right.” Sophie watched him go, frowning. Did he want to spend the night together? Eat dinner together? He’d made no mention of it, and her stomach growled.
She usually let Jake decide what they were eating and where, but it would be a relief to be able to fix some food that wasn’t from a restaurant. Jake deserved a meal after all his hard work.
Sophie made up the futon bed. The dogs had fallen asleep in the bedroom, snuggled up together, so she left them there and went back to the motel, packed her things and checked out, and drove to the market. She bought tea, vegetables, meat, rice, yogurt, eggs, and other basics. She paused as she was putting a six-pack of beer in her cart—and then took it back out.
No more drinking until she knew one way or the other about being pregnant. She had to get that test out of the way!
Back at the apartment, Sophie unpacked the groceries and laid out the ingredients for a vegetable and beef stir-fry. She loaded brown rice in the brand-new cooker Jake had bought—so thoughtful. He’d noticed that rice was a staple of her diet.
Jake would be a good father. Sophie felt sure of that.
But would Sophie be a good mother? With her depression? With her history of abuse? With the way her mother was? And what about the things the baby might have been exposed to already, given her crazy lifestyle?
Questions burst across her brain as her hands moved, seemingly disconnected from her body, measuring the rice, adding water, closing the lid, plugging in the machine.
Sophie removed the pregnancy test box from her backpack and stood staring at it. If only Marcella were here to support her through this moment…and what would Sophie do if she were pregnant? It would change everything.
Her pulse sounded like surf in her ears. She felt dizzy.
The door opened. “Sophie? You’re back…” Jake’s words died as his gaze fell on the small white box in her hands. “What’s that?”
“A pregnancy test.” Her voice sounded completely calm and normal even as her vision got spotty. She forced herself to breathe. “I’m late on my period.”
His eyes widened. “Are you…”
“I don’t know. That’s why I have to take this.” A bubble of hysterical mirth emerged in a squeaky giggle. “I’m so scared.”
“Oh, Sophie.” Two strides, and Jake had her in his arms—that warm, solid place where she could lay down her burdens. “You should have told me.”
“I couldn’t.” She shook her head, rubbing her face back and forth against his shirt front, snuggling into him deeply. He’d showered and changed; he smelled of lemony aftershave and clean male. “I’m not ready to know yet, myself. But then I went to buy beer, and I decided I have to know.”
“Beer as decider. I totally get it.”
She snorted a laugh into his shirt. “Okay. I’m glad you’re here for this.” She detached herself. “The moment of truth.”
He held her by her arms. “Whatever happens, I’ll be there for you.”
“Even if you’re not the father?” Sophie clapped a hand over her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say that!
Jake’s face went pale. The light died in his eyes, leaving them the color of ash, and his features seemed to sharpen. He let go of her and stepped back.
“Who else did you sleep with? Alika?”
“Yes.” Just a whisper, a trickle of sound. “It happened before we were exclusive. The night Alika and I were shot at, and I hid in his hotel room.” Memories flooded her. “We didn’t use protection.”
“And we have been using protection, so there’s a good chance it’s his.” Jake’s expression had changed again. She was now looking at his combat face: remote, focused, his eyes steely, giving nothing away. The face of a Special Forces killer.
Sophie heard herself babbling. “But condoms. You know they don’t always work…and we haven’t been careful, either. I assumed I was barren, because Assan never got me pregnant in spite of years of trying. It never crossed my mind this could actually happen. I know it was stupid…” Sophie could feel Jake shutting down even as she gazed into his eyes, and it stole her breath. She’d always known he’d take involvement with Alika as a betrayal.
“Maybe this is just a scare,” Jake said. “Maybe you are barren.”
“Maybe I am.” Barren. The word shouldn’t hurt, but it did, and always had. Where was the softness she’d come to expect when Jake looked at her?
“Well, go find out.” He turned Sophie and gave her a little push toward the bathroom door. “We need to know.”
Sophie stumbled inside, swallowing sobs she didn’t want to let out in front of him.
Chapter Nineteen
Jake stood outside the bathroom door, breathing hard, willing his heart rate to come down, his fists to unclench. He could hear Sophie’s muffled crying through the closed door. He could picture her burying her face in a towel so he wouldn’t hear. The sound physically hurt him—but the icy blade of betrayal slici
ng into his heart hurt worse.
She’d cheated on him and the baby wasn’t his.
The pain was terrible. He’d rather be shot or tortured than feel this way; he was shocked at how quickly he’d been able to create a fictional family life with Sophie, how attached he’d become to his imagined child, just from knowing she had that pregnancy test in her pack.
He was supposed to see this some other way—supposed to be mature about it. Understand that they hadn’t been exclusive when she slept with Alika. But jealousy and possessiveness and betrayal churned in his gut, anyway. She knew he had a thing about cheaters and liars because of his dad being such an asshole…
The dogs ambled out of the bedroom. Tank pressed his forehead against Jake’s thigh in a comforting gesture, and Jake fondled the dog’s ears instinctively. Gradually the warmth of the animals pressing against his legs calmed him. He walked to the sliding glass door, and out onto the deck.
His sister Patty’s voice echoed in his mind: “How you handle this could be the way you lose her.”
But maybe he didn’t want to be with Sophie after all.
She didn’t love him like he did her. And to take on another man’s baby? But maybe it was his. He’d have to find out.
Patty was right. He should have run from this relationship when he had the chance.
Jake turned at the sound of the bathroom door opening. He hurried back as Sophie emerged, her face puffy and tear-stained.
“I’m pregnant.” She held up a plastic wand. A thin blue line showed on it.
Their gazes locked. Jake couldn’t think of what to say, and it appeared, neither could she. Suddenly Sophie’s eyes rolled back, and she crumpled, so quickly he almost didn’t catch her in time. Jake lowered her limp body gently to the carpet. He patted her cheek. “Sophie? Soph! Wake up.”
She was unresponsive, her skin sallow and sweaty. He grabbed her wrist, felt for a pulse. Her heart rate was rapid and weak. “Sophie. Wake up.” Was fainting part of pregnancy? Or was this situation just too stressful? Seeing her like this gutted him.
The dogs crowded around, whining and trying to lick Sophie’s face and arms.
Jake yelled at them. “Go!” He pointed to the bedroom and the two obeyed, whimpering in protest. He jumped up and tore open one of the brand-new rolls of paper towels, dampening a handful at the sink, and ran back. He knelt and lifted Sophie into his arms, swiping at her face. “Wake up, Sophie, damn it.”
Her eyelids fluttered and he set the paper towels aside. She turned into him with an inarticulate moan, clutching his shirt. “Jake…”
Relief that she was okay felt heady. He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her in his arms, crushing her close. For a second it felt like they were together again, and nothing had changed.
Maybe it hadn’t. Maybe the test was wrong. Maybe he hadn’t heard her tell him she’d slept with Alika.
And then suddenly, Sophie stiffened, obviously remembering. She wrenched out of his arms and crab-walked backward away from him. She cupped her cheeks with her hands, her eyes huge. “Oh, no. I’m pregnant!”
“Yes, you are.” Jake gazed at her, feeling dead inside. “We need to find out who the father is.”
Sophie’s full mouth tightened. Her amber-brown eyes heated. “So, you didn’t mean it when you said you’d be there for me no matter what.”
“I don’t know.” The words rolled out of his mouth to drop to the floor between them like stones. “I think some space to consider all options would be a good thing.”
“If you’re hinting that I would get rid of this baby because it’s inconvenient—that is not an ‘option’ I would consider.” Sophie’s eyes blazed.
“That’s not what I’m saying. It’s your body and all that.” Jake stood. He had to get away, consider his choices, and try not to make the situation any worse while he did so. “We should find out who the father is and go from there. I really do need some space right now.” He snapped his fingers. “Tank! C’mon. We have our own place to go to.”
Tank just stared at Jake from beside Ginger in the bedroom doorway. Jake walked over and grabbed the big pit bull’s collar, hauling him toward the door. “You let me know how you want to go about the paternity test—I’m the first to admit I have no idea what to do next. I’ll see you at work in the morning.”
Jake dragged his reluctant dog out of the apartment and shut the door on the sight of Sophie’s stricken face.
Chapter Twenty
Sophie locked the door behind Jake, leaning against it, hearing his footsteps retreat on the walkway outside.
Despair rose like swamp water, welling up inside her. “Hello, depression. My old friend.”
But she couldn’t give in to that familiar deadening dark. Much as Sophie wanted to just lie down on the floor and wallow in self-pity, she couldn’t. She had another life to care for now, and she’d just fainted—probably because she hadn’t eaten for most of the day.
From here on out, self-neglect had to end. Her baby needed food, even if that was the last thing she was interested in right now.
Ginger whined, looking anxiously back and forth between the door and Sophie. “No. Tank is with Jake. I’ll fix you some dinner,” Sophie told the Lab. Her dog needed her, too.
Being needed helped her keep going.
The insight burst across her brain. From now on, she’d always be needed by someone very close to her. Was she up to the task? Could she be a better mother than hers had been? Surely, she could. She was no Pim Wat, filled with selfish, hidden agendas, using her depression as a smokescreen.
The smell of brown rice cooking penetrated Sophie’s nostrils as she opened the bag of dog kibble she’d brought from the motel. She breathed through her mouth to avoid the weird combination of the smell of cooking rice and dog food. Smells were definitely more intense.
She poured a pile of kibble onto one of the paper plates Jake had brought.
Ginger fed, Sophie proceeded to chop the vegetables for the stir-fry she had meant to cook for both her and Jake for dinner—the first time she’d fixed a meal for Jake in her living space. She had been planning to surprise him by actually doing something for him; Jake more than deserved it.
Tears stung Sophie’s eyes as she tossed the vegetables and beef into the hot oil of the big Teflon pan he’d bought her.
What would she do without Jake’s unstinting support, his help, his hugs?
She swallowed the lump in her throat. Selfish to wish he would just understand how the situation had happened, selfish to wish he’d meant what he said about supporting her. She’d always known he struggled with jealousy, with wounds inflicted by his faithless father. This had to be hurting him deeply.
And what about Alika? What should she do about finding out if he might be her child’s father? “What a can of worms,” Marcella’s voice said in her head.
Sophie’s appointment with Dr. Wilson was still days away, but she could talk to Marcella. Marcella would know what to do.
Sophie put in her Bluetooth and called her friend as she finished up the stir-fry.
“Hey girl! This is so weird. I was just getting ready to call you. Friend ESP or something.” Marcella’s cheerful voice made the lump in Sophie’s throat thicken.
She turned off the flame under the pan and cleared her throat. “Marcella. I’m in deep kimchee, as Lei would say.”
“Oh, no, what now?” No matter how many dangerous situations Sophie got into, Marcella’s response was always immediate, heartfelt compassion.
The tears filling Sophie’s eyes overflowed. “I’m pregnant.”
Dead silence.
“Marcella? Are you there?”
“I’m here. Sorry. It’s just…wow! Oh my God!”
“I know.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Give birth to the baby.” Heat flushed Sophie’s body and her spine stiffened with resolution. She set down the bamboo spatula and walked back and forth, sorting her thoughts. Ginger’s brown eyes
tracked her anxiously, and she trailed a hand over the dog’s head in reassurance. “I know it’s a terrible idea, in practical terms. A baby will interfere with my work. I will have to make a whole lot of changes. It will be challenging to get through all of this as a single mother. But this is my child. I’ve always loved kids, and never thought I could have any. This is a secret longing of mine. A dream I never imagined would come true.”
“Good.” Marcella’s voice firmed. “Good, Sophie. Because I can only imagine what would happen with your depression if you…got rid of it. You’d hate yourself. For all the reasons you just told me you want to keep it. I know you well enough to know that.”
“Yes.” Sophie’s stomach rumbled, and she returned to the kitchen. “Do you mind if I eat while we talk? I fainted after I told Jake. I’ve gone too long without eating.”
“You fainted? You told Jake? Oh man! What did he say?” Marcella’s voice had gone high-pitched and her rapid-fire questions made Sophie dizzy again.
“Jake said he needed some space. And he left.” Sophie carried her bowl of rice and stir-fry across the room. “He was upset that he might not be the father.”
“Oh crap, Sophie! You must have told him about that time with Alika. I knew that was going to blow up… I need some wine.” Sophie could hear her friend padding across the wooden floor of the little cottage outside of Honolulu that she shared with her fiancé, Marcus Kamuela. Being able to picture their pretty, tidy little home almost made Sophie smile.
Sophie carried her food outside and sat cross-legged on the textured floor of the deck. Ocean-scented air off of Hilo Bay wafted up to cool her hot face. She took several bites of the stir-fry with rice. She enjoyed the tastes and textures of the food, the way her stomach immediately settled.
Savoring little things, when big things were too much, was something she could always return to.
