by Selena Kitt
But then everything else slowly flooded back in.
“Do I look fat in this?” I sat back, pulling my shirt down over my yoga pants. I couldn’t comfortably wear my jeans anymore.
“Really?”
“I mean, do I look pregnant?”
“You are pregnant.”
I sighed. “Can I borrow your jacket?”
“Sabrina, they’re going to know.” He laughed, shaking his head.
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” I pouted, crossing my arms over my chest. This was a disaster. An absolute disaster. How could he expect me to do this, to take him home and introduce him to my parents? “Hey, this is Rob Burns the rock star, yeah, the same one I plastered posters of all over my walls, well, we’re dating, oh and he’s married, and by the way, I’m pregnant!” It was impossible.
“Listen to me.” He turned my face to his, tilting my chin up so he could look into my eyes. “You’re pregnant with my daughter. You’re going to be my wife. We’re going to tell your parents, so they can congratulate us. Nothing more.”
I loved it when he said stuff like that. But I also hated it, because it reminded me.
“Reality check,” I whispered as the stewardess passed close by. “You’re still married and I’m four months pregnant with a rock star Baby Daddy. That’s how the rest of the world sees it. Did you not read that stupid Inquirer article?”
“Well the rest of the world can go fuck themselves.” His eyes darkened, and his jaw worked as he ran a hand through my hair.
“I wish they would.” I sighed. “What in the hell were you thinking?”
“I was thinking I’d surprise you.” He cupped my face in both hands now, focusing my attention completely. “I was thinking I love you and our little girl and I wanted to share that news with the people who brought you into the world. Was that so wrong?”
How could I argue with that logic?
“No.” I swallowed. “Thank you. It... it will be fine. I love you.”
What else could I say?
He kissed me, and I could only close my eyes, cross my fingers and hope.
~*~
When I said everyone loved Rob, I wasn’t kidding. Even though he was a rock star, which I was sure my former history professor mother and my retired cop father would disapprove of, I knew once Rob started talking to them, they’d like him.
And they did.
We sat on the patio while my dad grilled steaks in his sandals and socks—a fashion choice that appalled me and made Rob grin—and my mother bustled from the kitchen to the table, forgetting every five minutes about one more deli dish or snack she’d forgotten about, until the table was full of food. We chatted about my job, my dad’s golf game, my mother’s book—she was writing about the Great Depression—and eventually got around to Rob.
They knew who he was, of course—his posters had been plastered all over my walls since I was sixteen. Rob had been eighteen at the time, lead singer of Trouble, a brand-new band unlike anything else out there. They called him the new Jim Morrison and girls everywhere went crazy, including me. I’d been in love with him for eight years before I even met him.
But Rob set them at ease, the way he did with everyone, telling stories about the music business that made them laugh and shake their heads. My father seemed impressed with his investment ideas, all of which went over my head. We didn’t, however, tell them about Tyler’s heroin addiction, or Katie’s adventure and subsequent crash.
It was after dinner we finally broached the subject, when I was stuffed with steak and roasted potatoes and salad and could barely move. My belly was even more obvious, and our little girl was wide awake, fluttering around and doing acrobats in there. But I wasn’t the one who brought it up.
“So, you two...” My mother came back from carrying plates to the kitchen, a task she refused any help with, and sat beside me. “When are you getting married?”
“Well...” I glanced over at Rob, feeling his hand squeeze mine under the table.
“I assume you’re going to make an honest woman of my little girl?” My father sat back in his chair, puffing on a cigar, his silver hair thinning even more on top. I had been a late-in-life surprise baby for them both, an only child, and my father was pushing seventy. My mother was ten years younger and probably would have had more gray in her dark hair, but she had an arrangement with Miss Clairol.
“When are you due?” my mother asked, cocking her head at me, her gaze dipping down to the peasant blouse I’d worn to cover my growing belly.
“November twenty-second,” I answered softly. Of course, she knew. She’d probably known since the minute she saw me. Maybe even before that—when Rob had called them and said we were coming to visit.
“Big commitment, having a child together.” My father puffed on his cigar, looking thoughtful. Behind him, the sun was a fiery orange, just starting to dip toward the horizon. Florida sunsets were some of the most beautiful I’d ever seen.
“Yes, sir.” Rob nodded in agreement, lacing his fingers with mine. “That’s why we wanted to come see you... I wanted to officially ask for your daughter’s hand.”
“How sweet.” My mother smiled. He’d appealed to her old-fashioned sensibilities.
“I assume you have the means to take care of her?” My father was clearly going to take full advantage of Rob’s chivalry.
“I do, sir.” I’d never heard Rob be so deferential before. He was Mr. Confident, all the time, no matter what.
“And of course, you love her.” My mother chimed in.
“Very, very much.” Rob took my hand under the table and I smiled.
“Well you seem like a smart, sensible young man, and my daughter doesn’t make rash decisions... usually.” My father puffed and glared at me and I felt his disapproval like a wave, a tsunami of feeling.
Of course, they were disappointed. They expected me to bring home a nice boy, a man like my ex-boyfriend, Josh, someone who would get a “real job” in the “real world” and make a “real life” for me and our children.
Instead, I’d brought home a married rock star and an unexpected pregnancy.
“Daddy, I... I love him.” There wasn’t anything more I could say. To me, that was all that mattered. But I knew it wouldn’t matter to him. Love was impractical. I’d asked him once why he married my mother and he said, “She was smart, kind, and she thought like me. We valued the same things.” No mention of love. My mother said something similar. “He’s a good man.” Those were her exact words. And he was. But he didn’t place much weight on such ephemeral things as “love.”
I sat, waiting for his response, my breath held.
“That much I can see.” My father looked between me and Rob. “But are you sure you’re ready for this? I don’t know if I would have been ready for a child in my mid-twenties. You’re so young.”
“I know.” I smiled. “But not everyone can wait until they’re in their forties to have babies, Daddy.”
“You were a miracle, sweetheart,” my mother piped up. “The doctors told me I’d never have children. And we almost lost you twice.”
I winced. I’d heard this story a million times, but I didn’t want Rob to be subjected to it.
“Well I’m glad you didn’t lose her, Mrs. Taylor,” Rob said softly, squeezing my hand.
“So are we.” My father agreed. “She’s been a blessing to us.”
I squirmed in my chair at all the attention, opening my mouth to change the subject, but it was Rob who redirected things.
“It must be nice to have a family who loves you.” Rob looked around the table at all of us.
“What about your parents, Rob?” my mother asked.
“Oh, my parents are dead.” He shrugged, and I glanced at him, trying to read his expression. He’d told me his mother had been arrested for drug possession—crack cocaine—when he was just twelve and he never knew his father. But was his mother dead? Still in jail? I was ashamed to say I didn’t know for sure.
&n
bsp; “I’m so sorry.” My mother frowned, shaking her head. “So sad.”
“Do you have siblings?” my father asked.
“No.” That was an outright lie. I knew he had a brother and sister, somewhere. They’d all been taken into foster care and ultimately separated.
“An only child, then,” my mother said. “Like Sabrina.”
“I guess so.” Rob looked at my father, head cocked. “So, sir... about that question?”
My father puffed on his cigar, a smell I would forever associate with him, a haze of blue smoke hanging above him in the glow of the sunset. Finally, he sighed, shook his head, sat forward and put his cigar in the ashtray on the patio table.
“Yes, son.” My father met Rob’s eyes and gave him a nod. “You can marry my daughter, if she’ll have you.”
“Oh, I will!” I cried immediately, so stunned by his response I couldn’t believe it. I had been readying myself for more questions, a lecture, a rant about the state of this country and the dissolution of the traditional family, but I hadn’t expected this.
“Will you?” Rob turned toward me, his face alight in the setting sun. The sun had hit the horizon, spreading a fiery orange across the water in the distance—my father’s boat was docked out there—reflecting in his eyes.
“Rob... what are you...?” I blinked at him as he pushed the chair back and sank down to one knee right there on the patio. In front of my parents. And then he reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a square, blue velvet box.
“Sabrina...” He opened the box, so I could see inside, revealing the most beautiful ring I’d ever seen—a giant, marquis cut diamond in a vintage, platinum setting. I gaped at it. At him. “You are the most amazing, beautiful woman I’ve ever known, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you be mine?”
Would I be his? I was already his. I’d been his long before he even knew I existed. There was no question that I belonged to him, with him. I looked at the ring, knowing what it meant, maybe more than he did. It didn’t mean that I was his.
It meant that he was mine.
“Yes,” I breathed. “You know I will.”
I put my arms around his neck and buried my face there, drying my tears on his collar, feeling his body trembling, heard his voice catch. Had he really doubted?
“The minute I’m free, I swear to God,” he whispered.
“Yes.” I sniffed, sitting back and letting him take the ring out and slide it onto my finger. It fit perfectly. Sneaky. He must have raided my jewelry box while I was at work and figured out my ring size, because he never asked, never gave me any indication.
“Well you’ll have a lot of planning to do, between a wedding and a baby.” My mother dabbed at her eyes as Rob got back up into his chair.
“I’m not waddling down the aisle like a fat penguin,” I scoffed, staring at the ring on my finger. Was I dreaming?
“I’m the one who wears a tuxedo,” Rob reminded me. He was grinning from ear to ear, so pleased with himself.
“I’m so happy for you.” My mother leaned over and kissed my cheek.
“Congratulations,” my father said. I glanced over and saw his eyes were damp at the corners.
“Well, who wants dessert?” My mother stood, picking up her glass. “I have strawberry shortcake!”
“Sounds great.” My father stood too, following her. “As soon as I make some room.”
“Dad!” I covered my face with my hands and I heard Rob chuckle as they went into the house.
“Hey.” Rob took my wrists, turning me toward him. “Do you like it?”
“I love it,” I said honestly, looking down at the ring on my finger. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever owned.”
“Not as beautiful as you.” He leaned in to steal a kiss before my parents came back out, whispering against my lips, “I have one more surprise for you.”
I laughed. “I don’t think my heart can handle any more surprises.”
“Just one more.”
~*~
The water in Aruba was like bath water, a bright, light blue so clear it was like looking through glass to the bottom. I’d wondered what Rob was doing when he went back to talk to Barb for “just a minute,” at my appointment. He’d acted so secretive and wouldn’t tell me what it was about, but now I knew. He wanted to make sure that snorkeling was safe at this stage in pregnancy.
“Unfortunately, scuba diving is out,” Rob told me, adjusting my mask as we stood waist deep in the clear blue water in our flippers. He sounded like he had a cold, because he already had his mask on. “But snorkeling is easy, and Dr. Barb said it was just fine.”
“Are you going down my list?” Now I sounded like I had a cold.
“What list?”
“You know... when you asked me what I wanted?” I ticked them off on my fingers. “Swimming in the ocean, snorkeling in Aruba, a baby... what’s next?”
“I told you, I like memorizing you.” He leaned over and kissed me, our masks clashing, making me laugh.
“I’m scared,” I said as we started to wade further in.
“Hold my hand, you’ll be fine. We’re going with the current, so you won’t have to do any heavy swimming. Just let the water take you around the reef. We can float like babies.”
“Like our little girl.” My hand went automatically to my belly. It was slightly rounded above the elastic band of my bikini bottoms.
“Yep,” he said, only it came out ‘yeb.’ “Hey, what do you think of the name Capri?”
He’d been throwing weird girl names out randomly like that ever since we’d found out the gender. I teased him that our baby wasn’t going to have a strange “Hollywood” name and always countered with something sensible.
“Capri? As in pants?” I snorted. “How about Esther?”
“Esther. Huh.” He seemed to consider this. “I actually kind of like Esther.”
“I was kidding.” I rolled my eyes.
“It was your idea!”
“Let’s snorkel.”
He took my hand and we dove in, letting the salt water buoy us up. Rob held my hand as we drifted, breathing through our snorkels and watching the underwater life swim by. It was like peeking into a secret world. The water was so shallow at first, I could have reached out and touched the fish, if they’d let me. I tried, a few times, but they would lash their colorful tails and swim away.
The current took us, just as Rob said it would, into deeper water. The coral reef below was colorful and bright, even from a distance. Fish darted in and out and my heart jumped in my chest when Rob pointed out what looked like the dark shadow of a small shark cruising the reef. I knew it was probably okay—the guy who ran the snorkeling class said most sharks weren’t interested in humans and those than came around were simply curious. He even taught us how to hit them in the nose if they came close, although I didn’t think I’d have the guts to punch a shark in the face.
I don’t know how long we were in the water but by the time the current took us to the first cut, a sandy bottomed area between the coral marked by a white buoy, the sun had moved halfway across the sky. Rob kicked us to shore and we waded out, sitting on the beach and peeling off our masks. Other snorkelers on the same dive were doing the same, talking about all the things we’d seen. Apparently, someone else had seen the shark too.
“Did you see the shark, Dad?” a little boy asked. He was probably around ten. “I wish he’d come by me! I would have punched him!”
Rob and I looked at each other and cracked up. He had lines on his cheeks from the mask and I knew I must have them too, but he looked at me like I was the most delicious, beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me deeply, forgetting about the father and son, about the rest of the people coming out of the water.
“There. Now you’ve gone snorkeling in Aruba,” Rob murmured against my lips.
“Check.” I put my arms around his neck.
“Wait until you see where we�
��re staying.” Rob nuzzled my throat, licking the salt water from my ear. “I’m going to fuck you in the Caribbean Ocean tonight.”
I moaned softly, feeling his hand move over my hip, pulling me closer to him on the sand.
“That wasn’t on my list,” I whimpered, feeling my nipples harden when he took my earlobe between his teeth.
“We’re expanding it.”
~*~
Our room wasn’t a room at all. We stayed that night in a little tiki hut standing on four posts directly anchored in the water. Rob said there were all sorts of these up and down the coast and most were meant for afternoons lounging after swimming in the warm, bath-like water. But we had one all to ourselves—there was no one anywhere for miles up and down the beach. Rob, as usual, had thought of everything. It was fully stocked, including a tray of tropical fruit and a big platform bed.
“This is paradise!” I stretched my arms out to the sky, letting myself fall back into the water, making a huge splash.
Rob laughed as I came up, taking me into his arms and kissing me deeply as we floated together. I wrapped myself around him, licking salt from his lips, kissing it from his eyelashes.
“Soak up the sun now, baby.” He waded further into deeper water, taking me with him. “Tomorrow we’ll be in Ireland.”
I couldn’t even believe it. Did people really do this? One day in the Caribbean, the next in Europe? It made my head spin.
We ate dinner in our tiki hut and watched the sun set. I thought Florida had the most beautiful sunsets I’d ever seen until I saw the sun set in Aruba. Rob fed me crab and lobster and I sucked butter off his fingers and let it run down my chin, so he could lick it off. The pineapple was so sweet and juicy, I got it all down the front of me. Rob licked that too, his tongue trailing between my cleavage. Then we stripped down to nothing and slipped into the water and washed off after dinner, floating and kissing ourselves silly.
When the sun disappeared below the horizon, Rob lit two tiki torches on either side of our hut and lit candles inside. There was no electricity at all, so we had to eat all the perishable food and then we stored the other—including more fruit and muffins and granola for breakfast. The bottled water stayed cold in cooler packed with dry ice.
