We reach my front door and turn to each other. I can only stare dumbly at the concrete.
Ben pulls on my hand until I’m in his arms. I inhale the scent of his cologne and detergent, steeling my overwrought emotions. I don’t want to make this harder on him than it already is.
When I’m reasonably sure I can control myself, I take a step back. My five foot five height puts me about eye level with his chest, where remnants of my mascara have dirtied his shirt.
“I messed up your shirt,” I mumble, fingering the stain.
He smiles and cups my cheek with one hand. “It’s fine. Now kiss me and say goodbye.”
His lips press against mine for a moment, but those few seconds say more than any words ever could. I can feel the way his fingers grip my cheek more tightly, the way his body strains against mine, and the way his breath catches in his chest. He breaks our connection, resting his forehead against mine, his eyes closed.
“Now say goodbye,” he whispers.
I manage to choke out, “Goodbye, Ben.”
Eight Weeks Later
THE CUTE LITTLE café was about the only interesting place to eat in Nassau, the small town in Florida where I’ve lived all of my life. When I moved back after college to teach art at the school I graduated from, I made it my Saturday ritual to come here to unwind after a long week. I’d get a scone and a cappuccino and people watch. Marin County may not be big, but what we lack in acreage, we more than make up for in pure character.
Today’s special is a decadent looking confection that boasts a triple dose of chocolate. Any other day I would have wolfed it down in two bites, but my stomach just isn’t agreeing with me. I take a sip of the water I’d tacked onto my order and hope that the sour stomach will pass. I consider texting Sofie and asking her to pick up some antacids on her way to the café, but after a glance at the time I realize she’s probably almost here already.
My fingers shake as I play with the brightly colored napkins. Around me people are chatting and laughing like they don’t have a care in the world. A mom and her daughter giggling at the counter over a shared milkshake catches my eye and I glance quickly away under the guise of taking another sip of water.
Sofie enters the café in a flurry of muttered Italian and toting her customary laptop. She never goes anywhere without it, I swear. The sight makes me smile, even though I’m near tears. Or laughter. I can’t really be sure these days.
“I swear to God, I’m glad I left this place when I could,” she says, slapping her bag down on the table with a thwack.
“What? You don’t enjoy our little Podunk town?”
“Pah!” she signals a waitress and brushes the long brown tresses out of her face. “The simple fact that it contains your brother is enough to keep me in the city.”
“Please tell me the two of you aren’t fighting again?”
“When did we stop?” she waves a hand. “That’s not why we’re here. You said you had some news?”
I clear my throat. “Let’s get you some food first. I would recommend the scone, but I haven’t tried it yet. It looks good today, though.”
Sofie nods at the waitress. “I’ll have a scone and a coffee, black.”
I make a face at her and she grins. The knots in my stomach loosen a little. This is just what I needed. “Thank you for coming. I know it’s a bit of a drive. Not to mention, you swore you’d never come back after the last time, though you never really told me why.”
“I refuse to let anything keep me from my best friend during a time of need. You said it was an emergency?”
My eyes water and I take a tissue and blot them. “I’m sorry, I promised myself I wouldn’t cry, but it’s not like I can control it anymore.”
Sofie scoots her chair next to me and places a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Come, mama, it can’t be that bad. We’ve been through much worse together and we’ll get through this, too. Is it Ben? Did that asshole ignore your calls again? I swear men are all shits. If you want, we can be lesbian lovers.”
I laugh through my tears. “You’re so crazy. And I told you he’s in the middle of nowhere. It’s not like he can just pick up the phone and chat for a while.”
“You’re always making excuses for that man, but I’m telling you, they’re all pigs. Which brings me around to my next point. Lesbian lovers, yes?”
The waitress arrives with Sofie’s order with raised eyebrows. Sofie accepts and gives her a dazzling smile. Progressive though Nassau may try to be, I wasn’t sure if they were completely ready for Sofie when she was born. When we became friends, the town council had to have had a meeting to plan against our tactics.
“I don’t know,” I say around the lump in my throat. “I may get fat.”
“Fat, psssh. I like a woman with curves.”
“Like really fat.”
“Well, at least it’s not like you’re pregnant.”
Sofie laughs and takes a bite of her scone. She glances at me and her eyes widen in surprise when she realizes I’m not laughing with her. I watch her throat bob in an effort to swallow. She takes a big sip of her coffee to choke it down and winces.
“You’re not pregnant, are you?” When I don’t answer she practically shouts, “Good God, doesn’t that man know the meaning of a condom?”
I slap her on her arm. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t announce it to the world. I haven’t even told Dad and Jack yet and you know Jack is going to flip his shit. Ben’s his best friend!”
Sofie groans. “Jack routinely flips his shit—don’t worry about him. And your dad loves you. Besides, wasn’t he just moaning about grandkids the other day? They’ll be fine. I’m worried about you, though. A kid?”
I give a watery smile. “Yeah. I had the same thought when I realized it. What am I going to do, Sof? I barely had a family until the Walkers. What do I know about being a mother? My own mom abandoned me when I was five years old! What if that’s genetic?”
It is said in jest, but once the words are out of my mouth, I realize that I’m not really joking.
Sofie shoves my shoulder, muttering Italian profanities her mother would blush to hear. “If you decide to be a mother, you’ll be the best one I’ve ever known. Who else will teach them the proper way to do a Jello shot?
“That’s not funny.” I glare at her. “I’m being serious.”
She turns to me and I realize her eyes are as wet as mine. “I know you’ll be a good mom. And I know you’re scared, but you have a lot of people that love you. Your dad, me...” She makes a face and says, “Jack.”
“I’m so not ready for this, though. I planned for kids in the distant future.” The very distant future. One that included a tenured position as an art professor and a house that wasn’t falling apart around my ears. “What about Ben?”
“What about him?”
I sigh and nibble on my scone. “After ten years, we finally get together and the first time we have sex—”
“Not the only time, if I remember correctly.” Sofie grins.
I ignore her. “The first time we have sex, I get pregnant.”
“Must have been pretty potent,” she quips.
“I don’t even know if I’ll be able to get ahold of him until he gets back. What am I supposed to do? Welcome him with an armful of baby and say, ‘Welcome back. By the way, you’re a dad?’” I groan. “This is such a mess.”
“Ben isn’t a bad guy. Sure, it’s not the best timing—”
“Uh, yeah.”
“But,” she continues, “we’ll just have to make the best of it. If Ben gives you shit, you’ll just have to take me up on my lesbian lover offer.”
We share a laugh and finish off our scones and coffee. As we’re leaving the café I turn to her and say, “I think I’m going to try to find my bio family.”
Her eyes widen and she pulls me off the sidewalk to a bench. “I thought you didn’t want anything to do with them. From what you told me they sounded horrible. Why would you want to find them?�
�
I shrug as I watch the cars zooming by on the highway in front of us. “I think it’s time. I think I’ve always known I would go looking for them eventually. I kind of want to know where I’m from if I’m going to know where I’m going. Logan said he’d help me out.”
The look on her face tells me she doesn’t quite understand, but she gives me a hug anyway and I realize how lucky I am to have such a great friend.
I can only hope my dad will take the news as well as she did.
I don’t even want to think about how Jack is going to react.
I bought the small two story bungalow when I thought I’d have years to fix it up just the way I wanted it. As I stand in the living room surrounded by evidence of a small demolition a.k.a renovation, I wonder how a baby will ever fit into this mess. I see nails on the floor and chemicals that can burn your nose right off. Can you even bring a baby into a recently painted room? Surely the smell was toxic to their little lungs. I think of my art room and the paints I have there. My stomach clenches. Moms-to-be should know these things. Moms-to-be should know a lot of things.
Moms-to-be should, at the very least, have dads-to-be by their side as they wait to break the news to their family.
Or at least be on the same continent.
The kitchen timer dings and shakes me from my thoughts. I check on the pot roast I’d thrown together in the slow-cooker and wince when my stomach roils unpleasantly. Morning sickness—not a fan. Pot roast is my dad’s favorite meal, though, and I made it a point to make it occasionally since my mom died a year ago from cancer. I couldn’t quite get it as good as hers, but it always puts my dad in a good mood.
I know he’s going to be supportive about the pregnancy; he always has been for anything I do. But I don’t know how he’s going to take the news of my wanting to find my biological family. He’s been a little touchy about the subject since Mom passed.
The knock at the door sends my stomach into my throat. I take a sip of water and walk to the door, my heartbeat thudding in my ears. I paste a smile on my face and open the door, but my smile falters when I see my dad on the stoop with a woman by his side.
There’s a beat of awkwardness and I shake it off. “Dad!” I give him a one-armed hug. “Thank you so much for coming.”
“Livvie-Lou, you look beautiful, as usual.” He smiles and turns to the woman. “This is Melissa. She’s just been dying to meet you.”
As Melissa and I exchange pleasantries and I invite them in to the dining room, I try to cover up my shock. Not that Melissa isn’t a good-looking woman, in fact, she seems almost familiar. She looks to be mid-fifties with coarse black hair and friendly brown eyes. I just can’t get around the fact that my father must be dating again.
I guess we both have big news to share tonight.
Dad and Melissa settle at the dining room table and I thank my lucky stars I at least got the dining room renovations done. I serve bowls of steaming hot pot roast complete with potatoes, baby carrots and a side roll.
“Anything to drink?” I ask them, shifting nervously from foot to foot.
“Water’s fine for me,” Melissa says with a kind smile.
“Come sit down, girl. You look famished.” Dad takes a big bite of the pot roast and groans. “Delicious, as always.”
I do as he asks, but I can’t stomach a bite and instead sift through the pot roast as they eat and make small talk. I learn that Melissa is a secretary at the Marin County School Board, which is probably why she looks familiar. She has an easy smile and my dad clearly adores her, so I choose to be happy for them.
“How did you two meet?” I ask. I manage to nibble on my roll, which is just about the only thing I can stomach these days.
“Melissa bought the cabin next to mine a few weeks ago.”
“He came over to help fix my front stoop when the boards started rotting out.”
They share a smile.
As we clean up the dinner dishes I pull my dad aside. He smiles, his weather-worn cheeks dimpling and the corners of his eyes wrinkling. “What’s going on, Livvie-Lou? You’ve been twitchy as a lighting bug all night. I hope you didn’t mind that I brought Melissa over.”
I shake my head. “No, no of course not. I’m glad you’ve started seeing someone. Mom wouldn’t have wanted you to be lonely.”
Melissa excuses herself under the guise of freshening up and I send her a grateful smile. Dad guides me to the porch swing he’d installed for me a few months earlier.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” he says, his voice firm and implacable. He throws a reassuring arm around my shoulders and pulls me close to his side.
I sigh, content. After I was adopted it took me a long time to warm up to my new family, my new house…my new life. Dad would always take me on the front porch and talk to me—about nothing really. Life, the stars, the bats that swoop down catching bugs. After a while, I started talking back. Some of my favorite memories take place at night on a porch swing.
“I don’t exactly know how to tell you,” I start.
He doesn’t push or prod, just rubs my arm and gently rocks the swing with one booted foot.
“I’m going to have a baby,” I blurt. “You’re going to be a grandpa.”
His arm stills and tightens on my shoulder for one significant pause before the swing rocks unsteadily as his feet thump to a stop. He throws his burly arms around my neck and squeezes the breath out of me.
His breath catches in his throat and I hear the soft rumble of his voice in my ear. “That’s good news, honey. That’s good news.”
Tears spring to my eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. If adopting you taught us anything it’s that children are always a blessing.” He pulls back and cups my chin in one hand. “When your mother learned she couldn’t have any more children she was heartbroken. The day you came into our lives proved to her—and to me—that even when it seems like there isn’t any hope, there will always be something to prove you wrong. So yes, it’s good news. Do I get to know the lucky dad, too? Or should I pretend I haven’t been seeing Ben dancing around you since you were a girl?”
I laugh and squeeze Dad tight, my nose filling with the scent of grease, sweat, dirt and cologne. A scent I will always associate with happy childhood memories. “Yes, Ben’s the father. I haven’t had the chance to tell him yet, so don’t go spilling the beans to the Harts until I can.”
He gestures over his mouth. “My lips are sealed.”
“Now the part you’ll probably be upset about is that I’ll be looking into finding my birth parents.”
Dad’s hold on me loosens and he releases a long breath. “I knew this day was coming,” he says. “I’m not going to say I’m happy about it, because I’m not, but I will say I understand.”
“Thank you, Dad, I appreciate it. Is there anything you can tell me that will help? Was there anything you were told when you adopted me.”
He shakes his head. “The only thing we were told is that your biological parents were short on money. It was a rough time and they couldn’t take care of you the way you needed. I don’t wish hard times on anyone. After all, it brought you to us.”
“I just want you to know that I’ve always considered you and Jack and Mom to be my real family. And you’ll be this baby’s family. They’ll never mean as much as you do to me, but it’s just something I need to do.”
“Don’t sweat it, girl. Your mom and I never wanted to hide your past from you. I’ll look through my office at home and get you the adoption papers. I’m not sure how much it will help, but—”
“Was this the swing you were talking about, Henry?” Melissa takes a few steps on the porch and stops. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.”
I smile. “No problem. Yes, he put it up for my birthday. Why don’t you two sit for a spell and I’ll refresh our drinks?”
I leave them on the porch and retreat to the kitchen. One Walker male down, one to go. My stomach churns just thinking about telli
ng Jack.
The gym where Jack trains and teaches on his off-time now that he’s separated from the military used to be the place I went to for answers, guidance. A retreat. As funny as it sounds, it’s one of the places where I feel truly at home. For the first time in my life, I dread walking into the familiar warehouse-turned-rec center aptly named, “The Pit.”
I doubt I will find much comfort today.
My father owned the gym for twenty-five years before he passed management on to Jack. If I’m lucky, today is one of the days Dad shirked his responsibilities to go fishing. As it is a Saturday, I’m counting on the call of beer, bait, and bass to be too strong for him to resist. There isn’t a man I know who can say no to that. He’s supportive of the pregnancy, but telling Jack is something I feel I need to do alone.
I don’t see his truck, but I do see Jack’s. I look in the rearview mirror as I pull into the parking lot. I am as white as a sheet. Is this what I have to look forward to? Seven more months of ghost-face and nausea. The joys of motherhood. My stomach is pitching like it has a serious case of the butterflies. I can’t tell if it’s from nerves or the leftovers from today’s morning sickness. Probably a healthy combination of both.
It is a dreary September day. The kind that makes everything gray and gloomy. The sky is blotted with dark clouds, and it’s been raining off and on for hours. The lack of sunshine is like a void, sucking all the color from the landscape. Even the bright lights and sign on the gym’s face are dull.
Water from puddles in the cracked pavement soaks through my flip-flops and jeans, chilling me to the bone. Shivers rack my body as I push through the double doors. I rub my hands over my slightly rounded belly in an attempt to calm myself. Familiar scents and sounds wrap around me like a comforting blanket. I’d spent all of my teen years trailing after Jack and my father, participating in all the classes they didn’t explicitly forbid me from taking, training with champion fighters, sleeping on the worn couch in the office. I’m almost surprised by the sense of ease that washes over me. I should have known that if there would be one place in the world where I feel at home, centered, it would be here.
Warrior (First to Fight #1) Page 4
