“You don’t have to drag yourself through to the end of the night. We’ll see you in the morning anyway. And you’re not flying out until later, right?”
“Late afternoon.” And I won’t get home until after midnight, but Monday is a work from home day and I’ve made sure all my phone meetings are scheduled in the afternoon, so I can sleep off the jet lag.
“We can get in some quality time over brunch. And I’ll drive you to the airport.” Ryan smiles down at me. He’s definitely tipsy. He doesn’t drink very often, and when he does, it’s usually dairy-based drinks that taste more like a milkshake than an alcoholic beverage.
“Okay. That sounds great.” I give him a kiss on the cheek and say my goodnight to the girls, quietly thanking Lainey, Stevie, and Violet for their help today and wishing Queenie a happy birthday. Jake uses my leaving as an excuse to take off as well, and we head out to the parking lot together, Jake calling us an Uber.
As soon as I’m in the car, I wilt. I’m beyond exhausted. My brain is a foggy mess, and I have no idea what kind of conversation to expect tonight. I dropped one hell of a bomb on Jake, not to mention myself. Everything was different when we were just sleeping together, having a bit of fun. Now our lives are irrevocably intertwined in a new way. No matter what happens, whether this baby happens, our relationship will never be the same as it was.
“How are you?” Jake asks. The ride has been pretty quiet so far, mostly because this isn’t a conversation either of us would like to have in the presence of Jett, the Uber driver with the bad haircut and terrible taste in music.
I shrug. “I’ve been better and I’ve been worse.” Reality is setting in and it scares the hell out of me. I don’t know whether I should feel any excitement at this point. There’s a part of me that’s really overjoyed, but that’s being stepped on by all my worry now.
He leans in, his lips at my ear, dropping his voice to a whisper, “Should we stop at a CVS on the way home? Should you take another test to make sure?”
I shake my head, then turn and tip my chin up as he bends so his ear is at my mouth. My nose brushes his cheek and I breathe in his cologne. Even as stressed as I am, my body warms to his proximity. “There’s no point in me taking another test. It’s rare to get a false positive when it comes to pregnancy tests. Either the hormone is there or it isn’t.”
“Oh.” He backs up, looking…stunned maybe. “I didn’t know that.”
I remind myself that it’s been a lot of years since either of us has done this. And he wasn’t the one taking the test.
I’m grateful the ride to Ryan’s isn’t long. As soon as we’re out of the car and inside the house, I turn to him. “Like I said before, I don’t expect anything from you.”
He tucks his hand into his pocket and his lips mash into a line. “I raised a daughter on my own, I’m not about to shirk my responsibilities this time around. I’m just trying to get my head around it, that’s all, Hanna.” He blows out a breath. “I’m not trying to be a dick. But we’re both in our forties. Last time I was thirty with a teenager, this time I’m going to be sixty. It’s a bit of a mindfuck.”
I haven’t thought much past the shock of this to consider what it will be like to care for a baby at my age, let alone a teenager when I should be considering retirement. My head is spinning. “That’s if this pregnancy goes to term. The chances of a miscarriage are a lot higher.” I need to keep myself grounded and keep my expectations low.
I tap my lips with my fingers, trying to get a handle on my emotions and my anxiety level. I head for the kitchen. I need . . . something in my hands so I don’t chew my nails down to stubs. “And I’ve miscarried before, so that increases my odds of having it happen again.” It was such an emotional blow. One I struggled to recover from for months.
Jake follows me, eyes wide. “You miscarried before? When did that happen?”
“When I was forty-one.”
“I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
“It’s really not something I talk about.” Especially not with the guy I’ve been having a clandestine relationship of sorts with.
He rounds the island and comes to stand beside me. “We probably should. Even though I’m sure it’s difficult.”
I nod and look out the window, into the backyard where string lights hang over the outdoor dining area. “I’d basically given up on the idea of having my own baby at that point. Gordon and I had been trying for so long, with no success. I said I was done with the fertility treatments and the doctor appointments. I couldn’t handle any more disappointment. I stopped keeping track of periods because they’d started to get all wonky anyway. One day I went to the grocery store and I had these awful cramps. The kind that took me to my knees. I was nine weeks.” I blow out a breath. “I was devastated. I’d been pregnant and I hadn’t even known. Again. It was too much emotionally to handle something like that again.”
Jake rubs his bottom lip, and his eyes are sad. “I’m so sorry, Hanna. I can’t even imagine how hard it was for you.”
I give him a small smile. It’s always strange, the feeling like I need to console the other person or protect them from my pain. “Me, too.” It was the beginning of the end for Gordon and me. He couldn’t understand my grief. He’d suggested adoption, and I hadn’t been opposed, but we’d had friends who had gone down that path and faced horrible disappointment when the mother decided at the last minute to keep the baby. Their hearts had been so broken, and I couldn’t fathom any more loss.
It had been a dark time in my life. My mom had been there to support me, and so had Paxton. And, of course, Ryan. But I’d taken it much harder than I expected. I shut down for a while and decided I couldn’t go through it again. Except now I am. “So, when I tell you that I don’t expect anything from you, Jake, I mean it. Neither of us meant for this to happen, but this is my very last chance to have a baby of my own. I’m very aware that it’s risky for the baby and me, but I didn’t think I’d get another shot at being a mom, and now I’m being given one.”
He leans against the counter, his expression pained, but it’s hard to get a read on him. “I see why you want to go through with this.”
I feel like I’m about to start crying again, which isn’t going to be helpful to this conversation. So, I shift gears. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Why don’t you have a seat, and I can get you something instead?”
“I’m pregnant, not an invalid, Jake.”
“I know. I’m just trying to be helpful.” He moves to the cupboards and pulls out two glasses. Of course, he knows where everything is here. He has dinner with Ryan and Queenie once a week. Queenie is incredibly close to her dad, and Jake and Ryan get along really well. I hope this doesn’t change that. At least not in the long term.
Jake opens the fridge. There are three gallons of milk—not a surprise—and pressed organic orange juice, as well as sparkling water. “I’m guessing you’re going to pass on the milk.” At least one of us still has their sense of humor intact.
I smile. “Water is fine.”
“Are you hungry? You didn’t eat much at dinner,” Jake asks as he passes me the glass of water.
“Thank you.” I take a sip. “How do you know I didn’t eat much at dinner?”
He shrugs, his expression sheepish. “I might have been watching you.”
I duck my head. I wish things weren’t so complicated. Ironic that I can long for the days when the hardest thing to contend with was not giving in and sleeping with Jake again. “I’m sorry that it seemed like I was dodging you. I would have called you this afternoon, but I honestly didn’t want to ruin your day.”
“You didn’t ruin my day, Hanna.” His voice is flat, though, and it sounds more like lip service than anything.
I give him a disbelieving look. “I don’t think either of us started today and ever once thought ‘Hey, wouldn’t it be awesome if I found out I was going to have a child again.’”
He sighs. “It’s definitel
y a surprise.”
I don’t know what I expect from him, but this apathy isn’t it. I guess it’s better than how things went when I was a teen and my ex-boyfriend was insistent I get rid of the baby, and then he accused me of trying to tie him down. “I’m going to change into something more comfortable. Then we can talk this out.”
I leave Jake in the living room while I change into a pair of leggings and an oversized shirt. I’m about done with jeans and anything that isn’t comfortable and non-restrictive. At least now I know why my pants have been fitting snugger these days. Jake is sitting on the couch when I return. He’s still wearing dress pants, a button-down, and a tie, but it hangs loose around his neck and the top two buttons are undone.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I ask.
“That this morning I was looking forward to celebrating my daughter’s birthday and hoping things weren’t going to be too strained between us.” He picks a pen up off the coffee table and flips it between his fingers.
“I wasn’t sure how easy it would be to be around you and not end up in bed with you.”
“I guess we know where our lack of restraint gets us.” Jake motions to my stomach. “At least this time the condoms really wouldn’t be necessary.”
I cringe and he sighs and shakes his head. “That came out wrong. I’m not trying to be a jerk with all the asshole comments and the shitty jokes, Hanna. I’m just…struggling here. Earlier I was talking to Alex about how soon Queenie and King will be starting a family and here you are, telling me that I’m back at square one. It’s going to take me more than an hour to get a handle on this.”
“I really don’t have expectations from you, Jake. But it wasn’t like not telling you was actually going to be an option. In a couple of months, it’s going to be pretty obvious what’s going on.” I rub my belly, trying to find a way to soothe myself. “You know, I looked it up and there’s literally a five percent chance that I can get pregnant at my age. Five percent. The odds were so slim.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to see a doctor tomorrow? Bill is our team physician, and while he doesn’t specialize in prenatal care, we could have another test. To be absolutely sure.”
I raise a hand to stop him. “I’m already sure. And I’d really rather see my doctor. I’m sure she’ll get me in right away, all things considered. She’ll want to do blood work and schedule an ultrasound to make sure everything is okay so far.”
“It’s a lot to think about, isn’t it?” Jake runs his hand through his hair.
“It is,” I agree.
“If you’re already at the twelve-week mark, the ultrasound should be soon, right?”
“I would assume she’ll want me to have one right away. And we’ll have to test for chromosomal abnormalities.”
He rubs the space between his eyes. “And if there are issues?”
“It really depends on what they find, if anything, to be honest. Finding out something is wrong with the baby isn’t necessarily the thing that scares me the most. It’s thinking everything is okay, and then suddenly they’re not. I’m even higher risk than I was last time, but I’m already past the twelve-week mark, so I’m willing to take the chance and hope things are going to be okay.”
He taps the edge of the couch. “How risky is this for you? Physically and emotionally, Hanna, how hard is this going to be on you if it doesn’t work out?”
I settle my palm over my stomach, not wanting to think about how painful it will be if this doesn’t go the way I want it to. “It’s happening, whether we like it or not. And I’m not terminating, not unless there’s no other option to protect the baby’s quality of life.”
“What about your quality of life?” he asks, voice cracking at the end.
“I’ll deal with whatever is thrown at me.”
“What are the medical risks in your forties? And even if everything goes smoothly, you’re talking about midnight feedings and dealing with a toddler. That’s a lot of energy with a partner, let alone trying to do it on your own, which, you’ve implied more than once is something you’re prepared to do.” His tone shifts again, and I can’t quite read it.
Is he angry about that, scared, frustrated? I don’t know enough about how things went with Queenie’s mother to understand how he’s feeling. All I know is that she left them when Queenie was an infant and Jake raised her on his own.
“Because I don’t want you to feel beholden to the baby or me.”
“How will I not feel that way at every damn family gathering we’re at together?” He runs both hands down his face. “I should have stopped and got a damn condom.”
I laugh in disbelief. “You know what? I don’t think this is a particularly productive conversation right now. I think we’re both tired and emotional, and I’m very close to saying things I’m probably going to regret in the morning. You should go home.”
“We need to figure out what we’re going to tell the kids.”
“Come back in the morning. We can talk then, but I’m done with this conversation and you tonight.” I push up off the couch.
“Hanna.” Jake grabs for my wrist. “I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t.” I hold up a finger. “I get that you are in shock. And I understand that you feel blindsided because I felt the same way earlier today. But you are being thoughtless and entirely self-absorbed. Sleep on it. Get some perspective. We’ll talk tomorrow.” With that, I storm down the hall, slamming the bedroom door behind me and flipping the lock.
I’m shaking and angry. I take several deep breaths, trying to calm down.
A few seconds later, there’s a quiet knock on the door. “Hanna?”
“I’m done tonight,” I call out.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
Sorry isn’t going to fix this problem.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Let’s Try that Again
Jake
I ORDER AN Uber and go home. I feel like shit, but I also don’t seem to be able to say anything to Hanna without sticking my foot in my mouth and coming off like a jerk.
Sleep is evasive. I maybe manage an hour or two of restless dozing, but my mind is spinning on an endless loop of what-ifs and why nows. I finally give up at four and make myself a coffee.
I watch it drip into the cup and consider Hanna’s past experiences—Ryan being raised by her parents, getting pregnant only to wind up losing the baby before she could celebrate it, her marriage ending, and now this.
I don’t know what it’s like to be in her shoes.
But I do know what it’s like to think I was doing all the right things with Kimmie where her pregnancy was concerned, only to have her tell me I shouldn’t have pushed her to keep the baby and walk away from both of us, leaving me to raise Queenie on my own. I don’t necessarily think that’s something Hanna is likely to do, but I can’t help that’s where my mind goes.
My parents were awesome, and supportive, but while other twenty-year-olds were going to bars, getting drunk, and having girlfriends, pulling all-nighters studying for exams, or hanging out with friends, I was juggling my degree, hockey, and dealing with sleepless nights thanks to midnight feedings and learning how to manage being a single parent.
While my teammates were sleeping off hangovers, I was meeting with my lawyer and filing for full custody of my daughter. I wouldn’t leave Queenie without two parents.
Instead of starting my career on the ice, I took a lower-level position in administration and dealt with the terrible twos and things like potty training and trying to get her to sleep through the night.
Over the past few months, I’ve finally had a taste of freedom, of feeling secure in the knowledge that my daughter has found a great partner to navigate life with. I’d just gotten used to quiet mornings and living alone. I’d been looking forward to getting back on the dating scene. Eventually. After I’d given myself some time to get over the whole Hanna thing ending, which, to be honest, was taking a lot longer than I thought it would. May
be because we weren’t just casual lovers, we were friends, too.
But now the Hanna thing is even more complicated. And I didn’t think that was possible.
All it took was one impulsive moment. And now I’m facing at least another eighteen plus years of raising a child with someone who lives halfway across the country. I don’t even know what that’s going to look like.
“What the fuck am I going to do?” I scrub a hand over my face and take my coffee with me into the living room, pausing at the wall of photos that Queenie thinks is a ridiculous homage to bad fashion over the past two and a half decades.
It chronicles my daughter’s life, from newborn to college graduate to the wedding photo I hung last week. I shifted all of the photos around to make that one the focus. My baby girl all grown up and starting her life with her partner.
I don’t even have one picture of Queenie with her mother. Not because I didn’t take any. I did. But Kimmie never smiled when she held our baby girl. She would give me a look and tell me to put the camera away and do something useful.
Even after Kimmie left, I still tried to keep her in our lives, for Queenie’s sake. I would take Queenie to see her mother and tried my best to be civil and cordial, but it was never about time with her daughter. It was always about us. How I failed our relationship because I put Queenie ahead of everything—my career, relationships, friendships, a social life.
I don’t know the first thing about having a partner. I have no idea what it’s like to raise a child with someone else who is as equally invested, maybe even more so based on our conversation last night. And it scares the hell out of me.
There’s so much to think about. To worry about. I’ll be seventy when this kid is the same age as Queenie. She’ll be more parent appropriate than I will be by then. When I drop the kid off at school, people will think I’m their grandfather.
A KISS FOR A KISS Page 9
