6+ Us Makes Eight_Baby Makes Three

by Nicole Elliot

  “So there are no plans in that weekend to talk to Ryan?” she asked.

  “I love you, Cat, but I really need you to stop pushing that.”

  “You really need to tell him.”

  “And I get that, okay? I get that he needs to know. And I’ll get to it in my own time. But right now, I’m kind of trying to find a balance between not starving myself and not sleeping for four years.”

  “And not exploding at your friends,” she said.

  “You keep on and you’ll see what exploding really is with me.”

  Catherine helped me out of my chair and the two of us made our way to the meeting. The principal wanted all of the teachers, staff, and parents to attend. Which meant it was probably about fundraising and yearly donations to the school. I hated meetings like these. It made our school look pathetic. The way we groveled for money in the high hopes that we could raise enough to keep the school open for a couple more years. But really, all that money did was sit in an account until something broke or some new updates to technological software had to happen.

  It’s not like any of that money went to the teachers or anything.

  I sat down in the corner with Catherine and finished off my coffee. I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath, but then I felt my friend nudge me. I groaned and opened one eye, peering over at her with a malice I could only describe as palpable.

  But when she pointed her finger, I knew it wasn’t good.

  I panned my gaze over and there he was. In a beautiful khaki-colored suit with a pale blue button-down underneath. He was leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, and his lean figure was accentuated by the colors he was wearing. His long leg was crossed at the ankle and his eyes were trained on the stage.

  And suddenly my heart slammed against my chest.

  Ryan was beautiful. And the look in his eye told me he didn’t want to be at this meeting. I looked around for the kids but didn’t see them, and I suddenly wondered where they were. Who was watching them if Ryan was here? I looked back at Catherine and suddenly felt sick, so I rushed from my chair and bolted to the bathroom.

  I held myself up over a sink and hoped she didn’t follow me in.

  My stomach rolled and my heart fluttered. Tears rose in my eyes as my arms shook with the effort it took to keep my body upright. Ryan was here. In an incredible suit that fit his body perfectly and that intense gaze I wish had turned upon me again. Emotion pooled in my chest. It felt like my sternum was going to crack. I wanted to run to him. To pull him into my arms and have him comfort me. I was scared. Tears of fear rushed down my cheeks as my mind swirled with everything and nothing.

  At the base of everything, I was scared at the fact that I was pregnant.

  And Catherine was right.

  He needed to know.

  “Emma?”

  A small knock came at the bathroom door as a shiver ran down my spine.

  That voice.

  Oh, my name in that voice.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Just a minute,” I said as I reached for a paper towel.

  I blotted at my tears and tried to make it look as if I was okay. As if I hadn’t just been crying over the man at the door. I tapped my cheeks to fill them with some color before I cleared my throat, then I took a sip of water from the faucet before opening the door.

  And there he stood, with all his beauty and grace.

  “Hey there,” I said.

  “I saw you dash out earlier. Are you okay?” Ryan asked.

  I looked up into his beautiful eyes and found myself getting lost in them.

  “Emma?”

  “Sorry. Um, I…”

  My knees grew weak as Ryan walked towards me. He backed me into the bathroom, then shut the door behind him. I planted my hands on the outer wall of the bathroom stall, trying to put as much room between us as I could. His heat was intoxicating. The smell of his cologne filled my nostrils and made them flare. I swallowed thickly and closed my eyes, trying to regain my composure.

  My strength.

  But I was careening out of control and I didn’t know what to do.

  “You haven’t been answering my calls,” he said.

  “I-I-I know. I know I haven’t. It’s been, um…”

  Fuck. What in the world was I supposed to do?

  I felt a heat pour over my face. I felt something sturdy cupping my cheek. I opened my eyes and found Ryan’s arm outstretched, his thumb sliding along my skin. Oh my gosh. How I’d missed his touch. I curled my fingers into the cold metal wall of the stall as I nuzzled into his touch. He took a step towards me, closing the distance between the two of us. If I reached my lips up, I could kiss him. Feel his wetness against mine as our bodies pressed together.

  “Can we talk?” Ryan asked. “Just the two of us?”

  “I’m pregnant,” I said breathlessly.

  I felt Ryan’s hand still as my eyes whipped open.

  There it was. Out in the open.

  No going back.

  My eyes panned up to his and I watched them widen. A tear leaked down the side of my cheek and I pulled my face from his hand. He was paused. Frozen. Like I’d just cast a spell over his body. I slid from in between the wall and his body, making my way for the bathroom door.

  My hand fell to the doorknob before something wrapped around my arm.

  I turned to look back and saw Ryan reaching for me. His eyes were desperate, but his speech was silent. I bit down onto the inside of my cheek as another tear leaked silently from my eye, and I slid from his grasp before I exited the bathroom.

  Now he knew.

  But I’m still not sure what it accomplished. Or how it made anything any better.

  Twenty-One

  Ryan

  “Sign right here, Mr. Aaron.”

  I picked up the pen and signed on all the lines I needed to.

  “Is there anything else?” I asked. “Because if not, I have a very busy day ahead of me.”

  “I would assume so if you’re preparing to take on three children.”

  Oh, if Mr. Ford only knew.

  I took my copy of the papers and walked out of his office. My mind was at a dead standstill. I’d just signed papers to take on my sister’s three children, and now I had one on the way. That meeting had been four days ago, and the only thing I could think about was Emma. How she was feeling and what she was experiencing. Was she sick? Sleeping okay? Did she need anything? Was she having a hard time keeping food down? Did she want me to cook anything?

  But I knew she was struggling with this. Just like I was.

  The way she had walked out of that bathroom-- the way those tears effortlessly fell down her face-- it broke my heart. Emma was always such a vibrant person, and to see the exhaustion and the sadness in her face ached a part of my soul. I wanted to be with Emma. I wanted to support her through all of this. I wanted her to know that she wasn’t doing any of this alone. She wasn’t going to have to struggle through this as a single mother. Not if she didn’t want to.

  But that meant she had to pick up my calls. And she still wasn’t doing that.

  I didn’t let up. I called her every morning, on every lunch break, and every night. I sent her text messages letting her know I wanted to talk when she was ready. I never pursued a woman like his. I never took the time to wear her down like I was with Emma. In the past, they’d never been worth the energy. If one woman didn’t want to give me what I wanted, then there were plenty in the clubs in this damn town that would give me what I wanted.

  And quickly.

  But Emma was different, and I enjoyed that. She was also carrying my child. Which meant my efforts weren’t simply for her now. They were for our child.

  Holy shit, Emma was pregnant with my child.

  “Uncle Ryan!”

  Zoey ran into my arms as I surprised the kids at school. I was going to pick them up and take them shopping for new decor for their rooms. I needed to do some rearranging of my life, but I had room in my
penthouse apartment for all of the kids to have their own space. And I wanted to make sure they got everything they wanted. Benjamin with his own television and his own set of games. Hunter and his own personal library. Zoey and her princess room. I was taking them to get new mattresses and new toys and new decorations and new colors to paint their walls.

  I was also hoping to catch a glimpse of Emma.

  She looked tired. Worn down. The bags underneath her eyes were growing and I could tell she was wearing a lot of makeup. The kids ran to me and I scooped them up into my arms. I had to file the new paperwork with the school, letting them know I was the children’s new guardian. I piled the kids in the car and asked someone to wait with them, then I passed Emma as I went inside. I reached my hand out for her and gripped her arm, our eyes connecting before I went inside.

  I wanted her to know that I was here. Whenever she was ready to talk, I would be there to answer her call.

  I filed the new paperwork with Lawrence Day and came back out to see Emma. She was standing at the car with the kids and they were all talking with her. Even her smile looked tired, and I grew worried about her.

  Was she getting enough sleep?

  She needed to, since she was pregnant.

  We didn’t say a word to one another, and I didn’t push it. Her skin was paler than normal and all of me wanted to wrap her up in my arms. But the rational part of me told me that it wasn’t the time. Forcing her to be close to me would only push her farther away, and that was the last thing I wanted.

  But I didn’t stop calling her.

  I wanted to be with her. Seeing her that day cemented that belief in my heart. I wanted to raise a family with her. I wanted to move her in. I wanted to protect her and take care of her and get her whatever she needed during this time in her life. I wanted to be a part of this process. I wanted her around the kids. I wanted to be the family we felt like in the kitchen that night, baking a cake and cooking dinner and making a massive mess of things.

  I wanted all of that.

  And I wanted it with her.

  I sat down on the edge of the bed after a long afternoon of shopping with the kids. The entire weekend would be spent moving in furniture and decorating their new space. I reached for my phone and mindlessly dialed Emma’s number. The routine had been ingrained into my psyche. I held the phone at my lap, preparing to hang it up the second her voice mailbox picked up.

  “Hello?”

  I furrowed my brow as the small voice echoed through the phone.

  “Ryan? Is that you?”

  “Emma?” I asked as I held the phone to my ear.

  “Do you not know who you called?”

  “Of course I do. I just… I didn’t expect you to pick up.”

  I cringed at how terrible that sounded as silence fell onto the conversation.

  “How are you?” I asked.

  “Tired,” she said. “Is everything okay?”

  “I should be asking you that question.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re pregnant,” I said.

  I bit back a groan as I fell back onto the bed. How many times was I going to sound like an idiot on the phone with her?

  “I’m tired a lot,” Emma said. “Nauseous in the mornings.”

  “Is there anything I can get for you?”

  “Ryan, look. I’m really tired. It’s been a very long week, and I have a long line of plans to sleep for hours on end until Monday rolls around. Is there something you or the kids need?”

  “Yes,” I said. “There is.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “Have dinner with me. We need to talk, and I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. Fast food. The finest dining in town. You and me, tucked away in a corner with whatever food you want. And I’m fully prepared to beg and say ‘please’.”

  “That sounds interesting. Go ahead and give it a whirl.”

  I smiled into the phone as I drew in a deep breath.

  “Please, Emma. I’m begging you with everything I am-- come out to dinner with me. Let me take your hand and comfort you. Let me listen to all of the complaining I know you need to get out. Lean against my body and put your head on my shoulder and sleep. I’ll take you anywhere. Fly you anywhere. For any amount of time. Just have dinner with me, Emma. Let me support you in all this.”

  I could hear her breaths on the other end of the line and I held my breath. I didn’t want to miss her answer. I didn’t want her to feel rushed in her decision. My palms began to sweat and my body tensed. I closed my eyes, readying myself for the rejection that was coming.

  And then, I heard that sweet little voice.

  “When were you thinking?” Emma asked.

  “How does Saturday night sound?” I asked. “I’ve got a full day of decorating with the kids, and Paul could come over to watch them while we went out.”

  “Decorating?” she asked.

  “It’s been a long week,” I said.

  “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

  I chuckled into the phone and was graced with that incredible giggle of hers.

  “Anywhere you want to go, it’s on me,” I said. “I’ll pick you up around five?”

  “I’ll be ready,” she said.”

  The kids and I spent the entire next day painting the walls of their new rooms. I’d hired a few people last minute to come in and help us, but the kids painted where they could reach. Their mattresses were being delivered on Sunday, which meant the walls had plenty of time to dry. The kids and I sat on the couch, ordering a few things for their rooms off the internet. Hunter was getting a bed frame that had bookshelves all around it to store all of the books I was ordering him. Benjamin was getting a mount for his television and his new game console, along with four games he had been wanting for the longest time. Zoey was getting a new princess canopy for her bed along with a television of her own so she could stream all the Disney movies she wanted with the touch of her fingertips.

  And I was getting a dinner date with the mother of my child.

  Paul came over and relieved me around four thirty. The kids were passed out in their beds from painting, and I told Paul to keep all the windows open so the paint could dry. I headed down to my car and slipped into the driver’s seat, then headed to Emma’s as fast as I could. She still hadn’t told me where she wanted to go, so I had a few reservations at certain places all across town. I wanted to come prepared in case she had a specific type of food in mind.

  I had a reservation for each type of cuisine, no matter what she threw at me.

  I knocked on her door and shuffled on my own two feet. I’d never been this nervous to have dinner with a woman before. Ever. I stuck my hands in my pockets as I heard footsteps fall behind the door, and my heart fluttered in my chest. The door inched open and there she stood, with the most exhausted stare I’d ever seen.

  But she still looked gorgeous in the blue and silver dress she had on.

  “Ryan.”

  “Emma. Do you know what you might want to eat?” I asked.

  “Some soup sounds nice, actually. My morning was a little rough.”

  I could hear the croaking in her voice and it rushed panic through my veins.

  “Do you need a doctor?” I asked.

  “No,” she said. “Just some soup. And maybe some tea.”

  “Then I have just the place.”

  I offered her my arm and she slipped hers into it. Her warmth was wonderful, and it relaxed me instantly. But I could feel her holding onto me a little tighter. Leaning into me a little more than she usually did. I slipped my arm around her waist and held her close to me. Curled my fingers into her body and physically held her up. She leaned her head against my shoulder and I turned my lips into her. Kissed her. Rubbed her side. Tried to comfort her in any way I could.

  I felt her shiver against me before she sniffled.

  “Hey, hey, hey. None of that,” I said.

  I crooked my finger underneath her chin and turned her water
y gaze up to me.

  “I’m sorry,” she said with a whisper.

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about,” I said. “We’re going to go to this great restaurant I have in mind, we’re going to sit somewhere quiet, you’re going to get some soup and the best tea the city has to offer, and we’re going to talk. It’s all going to be positive, and no one is going to leave angry. Okay?”

  She nodded, and a sense of protection fell over me. Emma, this strong woman I’d come to adore, was weak against me. Scared. Frightened for her future. And I wasn’t going to tolerate that for long. She had no reason to be scared with me. Because I wasn't leaving her side.

  Now all I had to do was tell her that.

  We rode to the restaurant across town and the hostess immediately sat us down. The upscale Japanese restaurant had some of the best noodle soups in the city, and their hot tea was wonderful. Emma and I quickly ordered and I told the waitress there was a decent donation in it for the restaurant if they put our order at the top. I could tell Emma wanted to protest, but she was also too tired to do so.

  I reached for her hands and cupped mine around hers, watching as her tired eyes fluttered up to mine.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I said.

  Emma furrowed her brow and I drew in a deep breath.

  “You’re not going to do this alone. Not if you don’t want to, all right? A lot has changed in my life over the past week or so, and the only thing it’s shown me is that I want to be a part of all this.”

  “You… want to have a child,” Emma said.

  “I do. With you. I want to support you in any way I can. However that looks to you. I want to be a part of our child’s life, Emma. You're not alone in this.”

  I watched her physically relax and it cascaded relief through my veins.

  “You’re being serious.”

  “I am,” I said.

  “What changed?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You said a lot has changed over the past week. What changed?” she asked.

  I released her hands as our tea was sat in front of us. The steam rose in the air, giving me some time to collect my thoughts. Emma reached for the silver pot and poured herself a glass of hot peppermint jasmine tea, and I grinned as she sipped it. Drew in the steam through her nostrils and fell into the comfortable cushions of the private booth we were sitting in.