[2016] First Comes Love

by Emily Goodwin

  I nod. “What about your furniture? It won’t all fit in here.”

  “Fuck. I hadn’t thought about that. Is there room in your basement?”

  “There is.” With this house being older, the basement is dark and cold, making it feel more like a cellar. Plus, it’s creepy. I keep the door closed and rarely go down there. “We can swap some stuff out. Your stuff is a bit nicer.” Most of my furniture is a hand-me-down from my sister, parents, or grandma. But hey, it works.

  “Whatever you want,” he says. “But I am putting in my TV.”

  “It’s going to take up the whole wall!”

  “I know.” He smiles. “Trust me, you’ll learn to appreciate watching your princess movies on it.”

  “I probably will.” I lean back, resting my hands on my belly, and yawn. “These twelves are killing me,” I say then regret it. Noah worries too much about me working.

  “You should cut back your hours. Or start your leave earlier.”

  “If I start earlier, then I’ll have to come back sooner. Though, that is tempting.” My back and feet scream in protest every morning when I get dressed. Noah comes over and helps me up, and we take our conversation into the living room. The dogs follow, squeezing onto the couch with us.

  “You get off at four tomorrow, right?”

  “I do. Why?”

  His full lips pull into a smile. He shaved his beard off last week and it’s coming in thick already. He looks good with and without it. “I booked you a prenatal massage.”

  My eyes light up. “Seriously? Oh my God, thank you!”

  “I didn’t know they were a thing, or else I would have done it sooner. A client told me about it yesterday. It’s an hour massage then a pedicure. It’s at four-thirty, so you can go right after work. Then come back here and I’ll make dinner. And later you can thank me sexually, of course.”

  “Of course.” Maybe I’ll be in the mood after some pampering. Because right now, Ella is pressing down hard on my pelvis, making sex uncomfortable. So much for keeping romance alive the whole nine months.

  My phone buzzes with a text message, and I reach to grab it off the coffee table.

  “Yay! Rachel can make it to the shower this weekend!”

  “Rachel Brown, right?” Noah asks. Should I be impressed he remembers her? She was over at our house just as much as he was when we were kids. I guess it’s not that surprising.

  “Yes. She wasn’t sure if she could get off work Monday. She lives in Texas now. I haven’t seen her in ages.”

  “I’m glad she’s coming then.” He pulls me close and kisses me.

  My heart feels so full right now, sitting there with Noah. He’s been so thoughtful, so caring and attentive. Thirty weeks ago, my life changed forever. And right now, I’m thinking those changes are for the better.

  I get home from work Thursday, ready for a nap already. I go inside, change out of my scrubs, let the dogs out, and get the mail. Afraid of getting another bill insurance won’t cover, I cringe every time I open my mailbox. Half the time there’s nothing in there since I get everything via email now.

  Today, there is one large white envelope. My heart drops into my stomach when I see it.

  “Holy shit,” I mumble and flip the envelope over. With everything else that’s gone on, I totally forgot about this. Now my hands are shaking. I start to open the letter but stop and rush inside, grabbing my phone. I call Noah, get his voicemail, and hang up.

  I can’t wait any longer. I rip open the envelope and unfold the letter, eyes scanning like mad. My hand flies over my mouth and excitement rushes through me. Holy fucking shit.

  “I got in!” I scream. I have to read the acceptance letter one more time to believe that I got into vet school. Ella flips around, excited with me. “I got in, little girl!”

  Then it hits me: I can’t go away to Purdue University in the fall.

  I can’t leave Ella.

  My excitement dies and I sink back onto the couch, unsure of how to feel. I’m incredibly disappointed … but I shouldn’t feel that way, right? I’ve worked so hard the years to get this far, and now I’m in. I got into vet school. And I can’t go.

  My phone rings, and I get up to get it, moving on autopilot. “Hello?” I say to Noah.

  “Hey, baby. I’m still at the studio. A shoot took longer than I expected. I’ll be home soon.”

  “Good.”

  “How was your day?”

  “Fine. Hurry, because we need to talk.”

  “Is something wrong?” he asks, a little panicked.

  “Yes,” I say without thinking. “Well, maybe. I don’t know.”

  “Are you and El—”

  “We’re fine. Sorry,” I sigh. “I didn’t mean to freak you out. It just … I got accepted into vet school.”

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s fucking awesome, not bad.”

  “It is awesome. It’s everything I ever wanted, only now I can’t go.”

  “Why can’t you go?”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, seriously,” he says. “Why can’t you go?”

  “Because I’ll have a baby then!” I snap. I’m upset, but not with Noah. I shouldn’t take it out on him.

  “Lots of people with kids go to school.”

  “Not vet school. I can’t go. I’ll never go. Might as well give up.”

  “Lauren, calm down. It’ll be okay.”

  He means well, but I’m too emotional. “Stop acting like it’s not a big deal. Do you know how hard I’ve worked for this?” Tears run down my cheeks.

  “You have worked incredibly hard. That’s why you’ll go. We’ll figure it out. I promise.”

  I inhale, feeling guilty again. I run my hand over my face, the conflicting emotions starting to confuse me.

  “I’ll leave soon and bring home something for dinner. Lay down and rest. It’ll be okay.”

  I take a deep breath. “Thank you, Noah.”

  “You don’t have to thank me. I want to help you. I’ll see you soon.”

  I hang up and debate calling my mom. Though I almost would rather tell her I didn’t get in than to make her get excited and disappointed like I am.

  “I’m not mad at you,” I tell Ella. “Not at all. Things … things are complicated.” I rub my belly and lean back on the couch. “We’ll figure it out somehow, little girl.”

  An hour later, Noah comes home with Chinese takeout and a box of cupcakes. I so need this right now. He sets the food down on the coffee table, shoos away the dogs, and sits next to me. His arms wrap around me, pulling me in. I rest my head on his shoulder, inhaling deep, loving the way he smells like cologne and leather from his motorcycle jacket.

  “I should be happy. Am I being dramatic?”

  “You’re allowed to be dramatic right now,” he says with a chuckle. “And you, you’re not. It’s kind of complicated. Can you apply to vet school again next year?”

  “I can, but there’s no promise I’ll get in again.”

  “What about taking just one easy class your first semester.”

  “It doesn’t work that way.” I pull away and open the cupcakes, sighing. “Everything I want is happening, just not in the right order. I had a plan, you know.”

  Noah’s blue eyes meet mine. “Life doesn’t go according to plan.”

  “You can say that again.” I peel the wrapper off the cupcake. “I honestly didn’t think I’d get in. Only like seventy people get into this program, you know.”

  “Seriously, that’s it? You’re going then. If that’s what you want, we’ll find a way.”

  I bite my lip. Dammit, I’m having second thoughts and already dread leaving Ella. Noah takes notice puts his hand on my thigh.

  “Hey, you don’t have to make a decision right now.”

  I bury my head against him. “I know.”

  “I asked you before, but let me verify. You like your job now, right?”

  “I do.”

  “And part of why you wanted
to be a vet was to make a better living.”

  Is it horrible to admit that’s true? “Yes. But that’s not the only reason. I’ve always wanted to be a vet. Always, Noah.” I close my eyes, feeling something weird shifting around inside me … and no, it’s not Ella. It’s my priorities, what I hold dearest to me. “But right now I don’t know if I can do it.”

  “School?”

  “Leave Ella. And you.”

  “Who said you’d have to leave us?” He beams down at me. I can’t speak. I can only kiss him.

  Chapter 20

  Noah

  IF I EVER had a purpose in life, it’s to make Lauren happy. Making her happy makes me happy. I never believed in true love before, mostly because the one person I truly loved was someone I thought I could never have. But now that she’s here in my arms—literally most of the time—I know it to be true.

  She’s still upset from yesterday, when she got her acceptance letter. I’ll admit it’s a weird situation. Getting into Purdue University’s vet program is a huge accomplishment. We should be celebrating right now, and she should be fucking proud of herself.

  But she’s right: it’s going to be damn hard to do that and have a baby. We went over the schedule of classes, and that shit is intense. Though if anyone can do it, it’s Lauren. I don’t want her to give up on her dream of being a vet.

  It was one of the first things she ever said to me.

  We will make it work. I look around my office in the back of the studio. I like this place, love the location … but it’s not necessary. I could move. Easily. If not leaving Ella—and hopefully me—is Lauren’s main concern, she doesn’t need to worry.

  We’ll eventually end up back here. She told me her boss said she’d hire her in a heartbeat to be part of the practice, and I know Lauren wants to be near her family. Yeah, those four years she’s in school will be rough, but she can do it. We can do it.

  She said she doesn’t want to think about it too much this weekend. We have the shower, after all.

  I turn off my computer and pack up my camera. It’s Friday night and Lauren and I are going out to dinner. I plan to spend tomorrow packing up some stuff to move into Lauren’s house while she hangs out with her friend Rachel.

  Reservations for dinner made, I get up and text Lauren to let her know I’m leaving. She’ll be out of work soon too. I lock up the studio, leaving through the back. A man gets out of a black pickup that’s parked next to my motorcycle. His eyes fall on me and my first instinct is to ignore him, not wanting to talk to anyone at the moment. I just want to get home to Lauren.

  I can still feel his stare after a few paces, so I cast my gaze up. My eyes meet his and a shock of familiarity goes through me. It takes a second, but I recognize him as soon as he says my name.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” I spit out, staring down my father.

  He smiles, lines forming around his mouth. I freeze, mind racing with how to react. I’ve grown up to look like him, and it pisses me off. There is gray peppering his dark hair, and there’s a fucking wedding band on his left hand. Of course the bastard got remarried. Probably had a few kids too, completely forgetting about his firstborn.

  “I guess I deserve that greeting.” He steps closer. “It’s been a while, Noah. Wow, you’ve grown.” He looks me up and down, nostalgia on his face.

  I recoil. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I repeat.

  “Heather—I mean your mother—called. She told me the happy news that I’m going to be a grandfather. Congrats, son.”

  “I’m not your fucking son,” I retort, anger rising with each beat of my heart. My mom fucking called this asshole? After I specifically said I didn’t want him to know about Ella.

  “Noah,” he says, frowning. “I see you haven’t changed.”

  “How the hell would you know?” I want to punch him. Lauren, think of Lauren. I clench my fists and keep walking. “Do me a favor and never talk to me again.” I take a step toward my bike.

  My father reaches out, hand landing on my shoulder. “Noah, come on now—”

  “I have things to do.”

  “This isn’t just about you anymore.”

  I stop, whirling around. “It’s certainly not about you.”

  “And what if your daughter wants to know her grandfather?”

  I shrug. “I’ll tell her he’s dead. Because you are dead to me. You died when you left Mom and I for broke. You died when you got arrested for a DUI and I had to spend my eighth birthday at the police station. Get it? You dug your grave. Now leave me alone.”

  He lets his arm fall. “You’re going to regret this one day.”

  “Yep, go ahead with the threats. Just like old times. Might as well get drunk and hit Mom too.”

  Without another word, I get onto my bike, rev the engine, and speed away. I’m seething with anger, nearly shaking I’m so fucking pissed. Just seeing Gerald’s face brings it all back: the disappointment, the hurt. Thinking everything was my fault, believing the lies he told me, hearing him say I was a burden and didn’t care.

  It was so long ago, and yet it feels like that shit just happened. It freaks me out that parents can fuck up their kids’ lives years after they move out. What if I do the same?

  Wind hits my face and I twist the throttle, pushing the bike over the speed limit. I’m not going to be like my asshole father. But, fuck, what if I am even if I don’t mean to be? What if I let Ella down, can’t be who she needs me to be? I don’t know how to be a parent when my own parents sucked. And look how it’s still affecting me.

  “I checked the registry list and almost everything has been purchased,” Lauren gushes at dinner. We’re seated outside at a Mexican restaurant, taking advantage of what could possibly be one of the few warm nights in October. “So that means we can set up the nursery completely Monday!” She smiles and pats her belly. “Ella is moving so much right now. I’m getting excited about the birth now. Excited and terrified. The doctor asked if I had a birth plan, by the way. I don’t, other than ‘don’t die.’ That’s still my biggest fear. Well, second biggest. First is something bad happening to Ella.”

  “Yeah,” I mumble, watching beads of condensation roll down my beer. I felt kind of bad ordering alcohol when Lauren can’t drink, but fuck, I need it right now. I’m still mad as fuck about seeing my father and I’m trying to let it go.

  For now, at least.

  Lauren’s excitement for the shower is temporarily blocking her anxiety over vet school, and I don’t want to do anything to hinder that. So I don’t say anything. And even if the whole school thing wasn’t an issue, why upset her? Making Lauren happy is a top priority. Telling her about my shitty childhood will only upset her.

  She’s still talking about the nursery, something about paint maybe? I can’t concentrate on her words. I’m not sure who I’m more pissed at right now: my father for all the shit he did in the past, or my mother for using my own daughter as a reason to call that prick up. Because she doesn’t care about him being involved in his grandchild’s life. She’s so desperate to get him back, even after all these years.

  It’s fucking pathetic if you ask me. The man pushed her around, hitting her more than once, and did a lifetime of emotional damage and she still wants him back. I don’t want Ella around her, now that I think about it. Talk about a bad role model, right?

  “Noah, are you listening?” Lauren asks.

  “Uh, yeah. What?”

  Lauren lets out a breath. “Never mind.” She finishes her lemonade, then gets up to use the bathroom. I look around the patio, eyes falling on a couple with a baby and a toddler. The mom nurses the infant while she eats, and the toddler sits on his father’s lap, stealing food off his plate.

  Could that be us someday? Enjoying dinner with the kids, handling it like it’s no big deal? I swallow and drain the rest of my beer, then flag down the waiter to order another. I feel like a fraud, thinking I can be a good dad. I didn’t have a good dad. It’s like saying you’r
e a doctor without going to medical school, right? I’m not qualified to do this.

  Our food arrives soon after Lauren gets back to the table. She talkative, telling me about birth stories and what to expect during labor. I smile and nod along, trying to share in her excitement.

  She is so beautiful. So kind, so strong. She’s going to be the perfect mother, and she will be the perfect wife … a wife I don’t deserve. Because I can’t give back what she gives to me. I’m feeling all sorts of shitty about myself and my ability to make her happy.

  “You’re quiet,” she observes. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, tired.” I force a smile and take her hand. The moment her skin touches mine, I relax. I can do this, right? Her green eyes meet mine and I give her hand a squeeze. Three words burn on my tongue, yet I don’t say them. Not now. Lauren likes fairytales and happily ever after. This isn’t the right setting to tell her I love her.

  Maybe after the shower when the nursery is set up? Yeah, that seems about right. I see it now, standing behind her, arms wrapped around Lauren with hands resting on top of her belly. We’ll have just set everything up picture perfect the way she wants it. Then I’ll tell her. And then we’ll have sex of course.

  I keep that vision in my head for the rest of dinner. It helps keep me from getting pissed, and it helps me from feeling like I’m going to completely fail at this parenting thing.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks when we sitting on the couch back at her place. “You don’t seem like yourself.”

  “I’m fine,” I snap without meaning to. Fuck. I put my arm around her, and she doesn’t immediately melt into me like usual. “I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed.” It’s not exactly a lie. “But it’s okay. And I’m glad you’re excited.”

  “Yeah, me too.” She doesn’t sound convinced. “Want to watch a movie?”

  “Sure.”

  “Do you care which one?”

  “No.”

  Lauren sighs and flips through Netflix, finding an older Cinderella-ish movie. Halfway through, she’s dozing off and says she’s going to lay down in bed. I mean to join her shortly, but end up staying up. If I went and laid down, I’d be bombarded with self-destructive thoughts, which will only further cement how fucking scary it is that a parent can fuck up their kid’s life.