The Mountain Man's Secret Twins

by Alexa Ross

  She didn’t say another word. She bounded through the snow, toward her car, which Bryce had scraped clean of snow that morning. Feeling small tears form in her eyes, she burst into the driver’s seat, conscious of Bryce watching her from the porch. After struggling with the keys, she cranked the engine on and turned down the driveway, her elbows visibly shaking from the cold.

  Before leaving the mountain, she stopped by her own abandoned cabin, gathering her things quickly and writing a brief note to the owners, thanking them. She drove a bit too fast down the mountain, her tires slipping in the snow, and then burst out onto the highway, the sun blasting upon her windshield. She felt wild, chaotic, strange: as if she’d just lived through an adventure, or a tragedy, and would live to tell the tale.

  When she arrived at her apartment in Concord, she found Austin had moved out quickly—probably diving immediately into Tori’s life and bed across town. Kenzie felt like a ghost, wandering through her place, taking stock of all that was missing. Half of the closet was black, empty. He’d even removed his socks, which she’d borrowed and kept in her sock drawer. He’d removed his DVDs, despite the fact that they hadn’t owned a DVD player the entire time they’d been together. He’d also moved out the other chair in the living room, which had been given to them by his tiring mother, whose high-pitched voice over the phone had made Kenzie cringe.

  Now, her life was her own.

  She splayed out on the couch and tried to watch television, anything to keep her mind off Bryce. For a long time, she watched winter skiing in the Swiss Alps, the skiers flying down with artistic flair, bounding from one side of the mountain to the other and skirting through trees. But none of it held her interest.

  Her phone rang then. She looked down at it, irrationally hoping it was Bryce. It was just Austin. Out of curiosity, Kenzie answered it, rolling her eyes as she said, “Hello.”

  “Kenz, it’s me. Austin. You—you’re back?”

  “I am. Back in the newly emptied apartment,” Kenzie said, her words slightly sarcastic.

  “I’m sorry about that. I wanted to talk to you about it before I moved everything out, but you weren’t picking up your phone.”

  “I didn’t have much signal,” Kenzie said. “And besides, I’m the one who told you to leave as soon as you could. Thanks for doing it. Now I can move on.”

  “Kenzie, it’s going around the office that you’re going to keep working there.”

  “I don’t really know where else to go,” Kenzie said. No sadness filled her. “It was my job first, and I’m good at it.”

  “But Tori and I feel it would be much more comfortable for everyone if you found something else. We’ll be happy to help you.”

  Kenzie felt chilled just hearing him speak her name. For so long he’d avoided the subject of her, trying to dance around any attraction he felt for her. Now this was their reality.

  “I think you and Tori better grow up then,” Kenzie said, knowing she was completely over him and not jealous in the least. She wanted to throw her memories with him in the trash. “Please don’t call me on this phone again.”

  “Kenzie, I’m so sorry. If that’s any comfort to you…”

  “It’s not,” she said. She hung up the phone and hugged it close to her chest, forcing herself to take deep breaths.

  Bryce was out of her life. Austin had moved on. She needed to find a way to get over the events of the previous few days, despite knowing she might never feel the emotion she had with Bryce again.

  When she’d been younger, after her father had left, she’d spent long nights in her room gazing at the ceiling and feeling the pain of abandonment. Sometimes she’d press her lips close together, squeeze her nostrils with her fingers, and hold her breath for as long as she could. She could get up to 90 seconds. Afterward, she’d gasp for air, blinking wildly and seeing dark dots in her field of vision. Then she’d do it again, wanting to push the limits of her bodily pain.

  Now, on her couch as an adult, she closed her eyes, counted to ten, and then held her breath. She listened to her heartbeat, which grew louder and louder as she voided her bloodstream of oxygen. You’re going to be okay, she told herself. Just keep going.

  CHAPTER SIX

  At the beginning of April, Kenzie stood on the front steps of a suburban Concord house, her high heels making her feet ache. The house was a three-bedroom with a massive backyard, perfect for a dog and kids. But the place had been difficult to sell, the sellers consciously clinging to their initial price. This was the fourth time in the last three weeks Kenzie had shown it. She’d grown tired of trying to make it sound like a steal.

  Around her, the first spots of spring had begun to appear. Buds sprouted on the tree limbs and the grass of the well-manicured lawn was beginning to green. Kenzie hadn’t seen Bryce in nearly two months now, and yet she couldn’t help thinking of him then as she listened to the silence of the surrounding nature and wondered what his mountains looked like with the changing of the seasons.

  Interrupting her reverie, a husband and wife, both of whom worked in the medical field, parked their van in the side driveway and gave her a flat-palmed wave. Kenzie bowed her head as she shook each of their hands, looking humble yet bright. She had her real estate technique down to a science.

  “Thanks for meeting me today,” she said. “This place is an absolute dream.”

  “You said three bedrooms?” the husband asked, chomping at the bit to get inside. “But a bit out of our price range.”

  “But the school district is impeccable,” Kenzie said, flashing her bright teeth. “Let’s go inside, shall we? I just put some cookies in the oven.”

  She opened the door and stepped into the foyer, which had wooden floors and a gleaming antique mirror. A winding staircase with a swirling bannister met them near the front entrance. The house was quiet, empty, since the owners had moved away quickly after their divorce. The carpets had been newly cleaned, and the windows had been scrubbed by Kenzie that morning as she’d whistled along to oldies on the radio. In the silence after Kenzie closed the door, she waited for the full effect of the place to take hold.

  “Wow,” the wife finally whispered, clearly impressed. The husband followed up with a whistle.

  Kenzie breathed a sigh of relief.

  But after showing them the house and watching them carelessly gobble the cookies, the chocolate getting smeared on their lips, Kenzie found her smile faltering.

  “We just need to talk about the price a bit more,” the husband said, his eyes growing dead and zombie-like. Kenzie had known this was coming. “I know you said we could maybe bring it down a few thousand—”

  “I can ask the sellers,” Kenzie said. “Absolutely. There is always a negotiation process.” This was a lie, at least with these particular sellers. She’d tried negotiating with the divorced couple many times. They refused.

  “Okay,” the husband said, looking despondent. He made eye contact with his wife, who took another cookie. “Just give us a few days to mull it over. Okay?”

  “Great,” Kenzie said, rising from her chair, suddenly accepting defeat. She showed them to the door. Despite their excuse that the price was the problem, she sensed they were unhappy in other ways—perhaps involving their marriage, their jobs—which disallowed them from feeling any kind of happiness for a new house. She’d hunt for several more for them, sure, but they would be tough to crack.

  Kenzie ate the last cookie slowly, nibbling at the chocolate at the edges but feeling less than hungry. She hadn’t eaten in days, sensing an impending stomach bug. She’d hovered over the toilet in that very house that morning, waiting to vomit and cursing herself, knowing that would mean more cleaning to do.

  Since she’d returned from Vermont, she’d had to scramble, taking on several more clients and showing nearly twice as many houses as normal just to scrape together a living. It was better this way, at least for now, given that she didn’t require much time at the office. Instead of bringing clients to her desk, she m
et them out in the field, sipping coffee at cafés or having small dinners in their homes after their long workdays.

  That way, she could avoid Austin.

  When she’d arrived back at her desk on that first Monday, she’d found almost nothing amiss in the office, as if she’d never left. Austin and Tori had both been out, showing houses, maybe, or just sleeping with each other—Kenzie didn’t care which. Her boss gave her a small salute, recognizing her commitment to the job. Then Kenzie burrowed herself into her desk area, sending emails, setting up appointments, and discovering new leads. She sent her mother a simple email, just checking in, explaining that she and Austin had decided to call it quits. She couldn’t imagine telling her mother that in person, or even over the phone. The disappointment in her voice would make Kenzie’s stomach curdle.

  Kenzie and Tori had never been friendly, despite working together for years, and thus their brief encounters at the coffee maker or the revolving winding door didn’t alter. Sometimes Kenzie gave her a firm, toothless smile. Occasionally Tori said, “Morning.” But more often than not, they passed each other like two ships in the night, without acknowledging the other.

  Kenzie took a brief nap in the three-bedroom, suburban home after the married couple left, draping herself on the single couch the living room held—for show—and making sure to fluff the pillows after rising. Along with her apparent stomach bug, she’d felt exhausted recently. At the grocery store, her eyes drooped. Once, when driving, she’d had to pull over and snap out of her fatigue just to make it the rest of the way home. She imagined it was because she was showing twice as many houses, was trying to work out often to keep her metabolism in check, and also wasn’t eating enough due to her lack of appetite.

  But despite not eating, Kenzie hadn’t been pleased with her body recently. After her nap, she entered the master bedroom and lifted her dress, taking stock of her stomach and thighs. Her stomach had been flat once, not even that long ago, and her thighs had not previously had so much cellulite. Was it because she was aging? Panicked, she allowed her dress to fall back down, covering her. She made eye contact with herself in the mirror, a feeling of dread passing over her. If she was aging and gaining weight, would she ever be “picked” again for love? Or would she die alone, an aging, overweight woman with frazzled hair and no children?

  Immediately, her stomach clenched: a reminder of her stomach bug. She rushed to the bathroom and flung herself onto her knees, vomiting into the toilet. Her body shuddered. Had the chocolate chip cookie been her undoing?

  After cleaning herself up, she dialed her remaining clients for the day and informed them she needed to reschedule. “I’m coming down with something,” she told them, sounding defeated. “I hope we can reschedule later this week. Send me your availability.”

  Driving home, Kenzie eyed the exit she’d taken to get to the Vermont mountains, during what seemed to be another lifetime. She squeezed the steering wheel tightly. Did Bryce ever think about their time together? Or had he gotten back together with his wife and child, forgotten her, and returned to a different life?

  Kenzie parked outside her apartment and entered quickly, kicking her heels off and removing her dress. Avoiding the refrigerator, which had caused her to be sick nearly every time she’d opened it—or even looked at it—this week, she meandered toward her bed and collapsed into it, burrowing beneath the sheets. She quivered, placing her hands on her belly and kneading the growing skin.

  She was gaining weight from stress, sure, but if she didn’t continue to show so many houses, her bills would pile up, thus becoming a different source of stress. Rolling over, she held on to her stomach tightly, praying she wouldn’t be sick again.

  Over the next week, her nausea was near constant, and Kenzie had to learn to deal with it alongside her client meetings and house showings. Frustrated with her weight gain and feeling nutritionally deficit, she made an appointment with a doctor, admitting defeat. Her best friend in Concord, Rachel, had told her, point blank, “You need to start taking better care of yourself, or you’re going to run yourself ragged.”

  Waiting in the doctor’s office, Kenzie felt fidgety. She read half articles in ripped magazines and gave other patients side-eyes. A clock on the wall ticked away, alerting her that she was missing yet another client meeting, yet another potential sale.

  The doctor, an aging man with white-speckled dark hair and bright eyes above numerous skin bags, began to ask her questions inside the sterile room, Kenzie sitting on the strange patient chair with her ankles folded.

  “You’ve been experiencing nausea for several weeks, then?” the doctor asked, marking his chart.

  “Yes. That and exhaustion. It feels like I can’t get out of bed in the morning.”

  “I see,” the doctor said, marking his chart. “Have you thought about the possibility that you might be pregnant?”

  Kenzie frowned, a small crinkle forming between her eyebrows. “Of course I’m not pregnant. I’m newly single,” she said, thinking of Austin.

  “Single women get pregnant just as often as women in relationships,” the doctor said, his eyes glinting. “Why don’t we have you take a test, just in case?”

  Kenzie rolled her eyes, agreeing, anxious to get past this roadblock and move on to an actual, real-world diagnosis. She waited for a nurse to return with what she lovingly referred to as a “pee stick” and then used the bathroom quickly, capping the pregnancy test when she was finished.

  She placed the test on the sink, waiting inside the cold bathroom with her bony arms crossed over her chest. A bit of a muffin top peeked out over her jeans. She wished she hadn’t decided on pants, not when she felt increasingly like a whale.

  As she waited, she thought back to that period just before she’d met Bryce. She and Austin hadn’t slept together often. In fact, he’d spent most nights pointed away from her, almost as if he were pretending he was sleeping next to someone else. If she remembered correctly, in fact, Austin had been completely faithful to Tori, body and soul, for at least a month before she’d discovered the affair.

  Which meant only one thing.

  She peered down at the pregnancy test, which was flashing two bright pink lines down the center. She shivered, raising it up into the orange bathroom light. Pregnant. One hundred percent pregnant. And she was certain it was Bryce’s baby.

  She opened the door of the bathroom, peering at the waiting nurse with big, bird-like eyes. The nurse knew the look immediately and wrapped Kenzie in a hug, patting her back like a stern mother.

  “Darling, it’s all going to be okay,” she said. Her voice was strained. “I promise. Now, let’s get you an appointment for an ultrasound, shall we? Everyone loves seeing her baby for the first time. Even you will. I promise.”

  Kenzie peered down at her bulbous stomach. A baby? Inside her? She thought back to that photograph she’d found beneath Bryce’s bed, the one with the stunning blond woman holding the blue-eyed baby. Would her baby look like that baby? Would Bryce ever want to know about their baby?

  Didn’t he have a right to know?

  “Sure. An ultrasound seems…appropriate,” Kenzie said, trailing off.

  Kenzie was transferred to the side office, where she made an appointment with the ultrasound technician for the next hour. “There was a dropout,” the woman told her brightly. Kenzie wondered what had come up in someone’s life that had caused them to decide they couldn’t make time to see their baby.

  When it was Kenzie’s time, the technician spread the strange, sticky liquid evenly over her stomach, beneath her belly button. She asked Kenzie light questions, having been briefed that she had only just learned of her pregnancy—and that it was proving to be a shock.

  “You’re in real estate?” the technician asked brightly.

  Kenzie nodded, her eyes searching the ceiling. “I should tell him, shouldn’t I?” she murmured, only half speaking to the technician. “Even if he has a life he doesn’t want me to know about, I should tell him about
mine.”

  The ultrasound tech looked at her curiously, her eyebrows drawing closer together. She obviously didn’t want to interject.

  But Kenzie needed advice. “Should I go to him? Tell him the truth?”

  “I try to stay out of these issues,” the tech said, shrugging sadly. “I’ve been in the middle of several disputes, though. There was an all-out war, in this very tech room, with the father saying the baby on the screen looked shockingly like his best friend. But the baby was only at three months. He really didn’t look like anything!”

  Kenzie laughed, trying to clear her mind. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to ask you that. I’m just out of my mind right now.”

  “Of course you are, honey. And you will be for the rest of your life, with this baby in tow. Ready to see your little one?”

  “Yes,” Kenzie whispered before pressing her lips together tightly.