“Is that—?” Jay’s craning his head, his eyes narrowed, making fine lines. He’s staring at the front of the hospital. “No. Shit, that’s my mom and Aunt Moe.”
“What?” My voice cracks, and I strain to look in the direction he is. There are three women and a man standing at the front entrance, all close to each other, looking like they’re fighting the cold by blowing on their hands and stomping their booted feet.
“That’s my mom and dad.” H’s voice sounds higher than normal. “I told her about the appointment, told her how excited I was. I never thought she’d—” He grabs my shoulder and turns me toward him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know she’d do this. I—She’s invasive, but never like this.”
I clutch at H’s hand, trying to smile. “Do you think she’ll like me?” My heart is now beating somewhere close to my eyes, giving me an instant headache. God, I’m terrified. But, oh, how I want to meet her.
Unfortunately, I’m pregnant and she knows it. She knows Baby is not H’s. What must she think of me? Does she know that I have sex with H’s best friend at the same time as her son? How I love him as much as I love H? Oh fuck, what must she think of me?
“Are you kidding?” H snorts a laugh. “She’ll love you.” But the look in his eyes conveys he’s worried too.
I glance at Jay and he takes my hand.
“My mom will love you too.” He glances at the entrance where his mom and Aunt Moe are busily talking to H’s mom and step-dad. They all laugh at something, and Jay swallows. “She’ll love you.” But his voice is flat. Almost defeated sounding. And the fact that he’s echoing what he just said and not even catching himself freaks me out.
Fran knocks on H’s window. He lowers the glass.
“Well come on, you lazy bones.” She laughs. “We’ve got your future to discover.”
* * *
When I first started shooting professionally, I not only took a few pictures of models, but—and I’m embarrassed to admit this—I took a few as a paparazzi. I already had the lenses and high-def cameras, and the money was great. Even far-off images paid really well. And the first shot I took of Sarah Jessica Parker was on accident as we both were going to the same grocery store. I was so shocked to see such a big star, I pressed click—as discretely as possible—without really thinking what I was doing.
Four months as a member of the paparazzi was enough for me, not only because the lifestyle is more chaotic than I’d imagined, but I couldn’t believe the life many celebrities had. Getting shots of Ms. Parker, who did her own grocery shopping and seemed like an authentic person, didn’t pay as well as the celebrities who had entourages. Further, the people who had entourages—well, I didn’t know how they could live like that. They were almost always surrounded by people. People who wanted something from them. I wasn’t sure if the people in the entourage even cared about the celebrity they surrounded. It seemed a parasitic relationship. And I felt like a tick too for trying to take pictures of that.
Now as I stand in an Ennis, Montana parking lot, covered with snow, but patches are melting, revealing shiny black concrete, I have my own entourage. Only, I know they all care about me, which I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around. After a lifetime of hustling for affection, learning tricks, trying to hide the real me, it was when I gave all that up to take care of myself and my baby that I found…breathe deep…love. All sorts of love. Big and deep love, even if I can’t admit it to H or Jay. Even if I’m not sure if they feel it too. I still found love. And that means everything to me.
After introducing Jane and her boyfriends to Greta and her husbands and Fran, who seems to be taking all the multiple partnerships in stride, I trudge across the parking lot toward my future. Or, actually, that’s a bit assumptive of me to think—presuming that both H’s mom and Jay’s will want me in their lives. And not only that but assuming that both Jay and H will continue to want me.
A cold hand wraps around mine. I’m a little surprised the palm is soft, feminine. Jane’s smiling at me.
“Thank you for including me. I’m sorry to force myself on you, but I—”
“You didn’t force yourself on me.” I shake my head.
Jane laughs. “Yes, I did. And just tell me when I become too obnoxious, okay? I don’t want to be one of those overly nosy sisters, but I’m afraid I will be. I’m just so happy, Dee. I’m so happy to have you in my life, and that you’re going to have a beautiful baby.”
Jane called me Dee. It may not seem like much, but it’s huge for me. When I first met Jane I was living in New York City, trying to finish my degree, and had just finished the paparazzi tutelage. I felt like a failure in every sense of the word. And my mother and brother introduced me by my full name, Deidra Alexandra. Jane has always called me Deidra because I never corrected her. There’s only been once that Jane’s heard me ask to be called Dee, and it was an off-the-cuff remark I’d made. Something I thought she’d forget or maybe not even hear.
But she’d not only listened to me, she’s doing what I asked.
I glance at her again, not sure if this will be my tipping point and make me cry. I don’t have to worry so much about crying anyway. I’m not wearing the pancake makeup I used to. Oh, I think makeup is fun and fantastic, but I’m no longer using it as a crutch. Which means I can cry to my heart’s content and not be embarrassed that my makeup will run off. However, oddly enough, I don’t cry. I just smile and squeeze her hand.
Maybe—just maybe Jane’s not only a nice person but actually loves me too.
“Are you excited?” she asks.
But I don’t answer. I don’t have time to.
There’s a squeal coming from the entrance of the hospital, and I look up in time to see a very tall woman racing toward my entourage.
“Aunt Moe!” Jay says, his voice cracking. He’s emotional, and it’s then that I worry how much he must have missed this woman who essentially was another mother to him. Have I been selfish by keeping H and Jay so close?
Aunt Moe is running full out with her arms outstretched. She’s laughing, and I glance at Jay, who I expected would be still smiling. But he looks confused. And then I realize why as I’m swept up in a huge embrace. Aunt Moe has just clobbered me with a hug.
“Dee, Dee, Dee,” she says in my ear. Her voice is low and gravelly, the female version of Jay’s. “I have wanted to meet you for so long, the woman who stole my little Jay’s heart.” She pulls away from the embrace and looks me over.
I’m pretty sure she’s holding almost all my body’s weight because I’m thoroughly shocked. I never anticipated such a warm welcome.
Moe is almost as tall as H, but thinner than most models. She must be one of those women who are naturally thin, complain about eating donuts all day and never gain a pound.
“You look completely terrified, honey,” Moe says, giggling.
“I’m sorry.”
She scoffs. “Don’t be. I’m a little scary.”
“Especially with that hug.” Jay folds his arms across his chest, frowning. “You just about snapped her neck.”
Moe laughs harder. “You worry too much.” She wrestles Jay into a hug as they’re both chuckling.
Then everyone’s there. There’s a beautiful dark-haired woman who has the same eyes as H, hugging him. A man who’s blond and blue-eyed, tall and lean like H. I know the man must be H’s stepdad, but he looks similar to H. They have the same mannerisms, the same way they hold their wide shoulders, the same smile and laugh. And my breath catches with the realization.
Last, there’s a very petite woman with auburn hair, a few greys highlighting her halo. She’s shorter than me and smiling at Jay then me while she looks like she’s performing calculus in her head. This is Jay’s mother, I know. She and Jay don’t look much alike, but there’s no denying the maternal way she hugs her son when Moe’s done. There’s also no denying the way she looks at me, like she’s measuring me up, trying to figure out before I’ve said a word if I deserve her beloved son.
“You must be Dee,” Jay’s mom says, extending a hand. She is not like her enthusiastic friend, Moe. She’s much more cautious.
I nod and shake her hand. “Yes, ma’am. I’m Dee Emory.”
“I’m Cynthia Sanders.”
“Don’t forget the doctor,” Moe says quickly. “She’s Dr. Cynthia Sanders. The biggest smarty pants you’ll ever meet. But you can just call her Cyn.”
I curl my lips in, trying really hard not to laugh as Dr. Cynthia Sanders rolls her eyes at her best friend.
Cyn turns to Moe. “Seriously? I was trying to make a good impression, Moe.”
“By being a stiff?”
Looking at extra tall Moe and extra short Cyn is…oh god, they’re Mutt and Jeff. Female Mutt and Jeffs. And I instantly love them because it’s obvious they are such good friends they know how to find the humor in every situation.
Please, please let them love me back.
But, I promise myself, I’ll never again try so hard for love. I’ll never hide myself again.
Cyn rolls her eyes once more and leans forward conspiratorially. “I’m not a stiff. Almost never a stiff.” She looks at her son who’s smiling. “Okay, sometimes I come across as a stiff, but every opportunity can be a lesson for something deeper, more profound.”
“We’re in a parking lot that’s covered with snow—” Moe looks at me with a shake of her head, “—which is crazy because it’s March and shouldn’t everywhere be green by now? And we’re meeting our son’s pregnant girlfriend who’s also having a relationship with his best friend. And listen, Jay—” Moe now shakes her head at the man she calls her son, “—that wasn’t cool for your mom and me and H’s mom and dad to figure that out on our own.”
Moe then looks around as everyone’s smiles fall off their faces, including mine. Well, shit. Everyone knows my personal business. Isn’t that fucking great?
I’d kind of hoped that Jay and H hadn’t said how we were all living together, especially didn’t tell anyone the way we were living together. And apparently, they hadn’t, which I’m half-relieved because it’s no one’s business. But I’m also half-upset, wondering if maybe H and Jay are embarrassed. Are they?
Am I?
“Oh, didn’t everyone know?” She looks at H’s mom, who I still haven’t been introduced to, the woman who I was dying to meet. Moe continues. “I mean, Vicki and I have been calling each other every day when we pieced it together. Wasn’t that the reason why we’re all up here, in this colder than hell environment?”
“Aunt Moe.” Jay sighs. “Maybe we can talk about this after? Or never at all because it’s really none of your business.”
I reach out and snag Jay’s green flannel sleeve. “Be respectful, please. This is a woman who raised you.”
Moe flings her hands to the sky. “Okay, I’m sold. She’s great!” She hugs me theatrically. “My new daughter-in-law.”
As she holds me with one arm wrapped around my shoulders, I can just make out that H is looking down at his mother. Concern written through his dark brows.
Vicki, H’s mom, glances at me then her son. “I have two questions.”
H nods, his father sidles beside him, placing a huge hand on his shoulder for support, I’d guess.
Vicki clears her throat and looks at me. “Do you love her, Henry?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
His answer is unwavering and without an ounce of hesitation.
There it is. What I’ve been looking for all along. H loves me.
Tears blur my vision, and Moe holds me closer.
“Next question.” H is standing almost at attention, looking defensive.
Vicki takes a big breath. “I don’t understand how—”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I can’t explain it.” H’s voice cracks, but he clears his throat. “It just works. It works for me. I’ve never been happier, not just about meeting Dee, but, as odd as it sounds that this weird thing works with my best friend. And—” His voice cracks all the more, and again he clears his throat. “And I really want to help raise Baby.” He blinks. “It’s what we call the baby, since we don’t know yet if he’s a boy or girl.”
“You think he’s a boy?” H’s dad asks, clapping H’s shoulder all the more.
H smiles at me. “Yeah, I do.” But then he looks at his mother again, grin erased. “I’m ready for the next question.”
Vicki looks at me once more, her face softening. “Are we making you late for your appointment, my dear?”
Fran holds her phone out, displaying the time.
“I have five minutes.” My voice is shaky but I’m glad it didn’t totally leave me.
“That’s your second question?” H asks, incredulously.
Vicki wraps an arm around her son’s waist. “We’ll have a lot more to talk about, but in the end, the only thing I care about is if you love her and are happy.” Then she reaches out for me, and I take her hand. “Dee, darling, I’m Vicki, and my son is right. You do look like a more beautiful version of Dame Elizabeth Taylor.”
“Thank you.” I’m crying by then. Big, fat drops fall from my eyes, to which Vicki dabs at the moisture with a handkerchief that has a yellow rose embroidered on it—so glamorous, so old Hollywood.
“We’d better hurry you to your appointment,” Vicki says, a note of excitement in her tone. “Going to find out if he’s a boy as my son suspects? Or a girl? Just to let you know, I’ll be a doting grandmother and fly up here as often as I can. Thanks to Dan, my husband—did you meet my husband?”
I’m shaking hands with Dan as he and my entourage and I are marching toward the hospital.
“Thanks to Dan, we can fly often.” Vicki wraps her hand around my arm. We’re linked now, while walking. “Very often. I might not want to visit during the cold months, because California is so much warmer. I’ll just talk you into visiting me then. But I’ll be up often. I’m just warning you.”
My heart in my throat, my stomach fluttering nervously and yet happily too, I smile and dab at my face, instantly remembering I don’t need to redo my makeup. I’m not hiding now.
Old habits die hard.
I can’t help but wonder how long it will take before I trust Vicki’s warm embrace, Moe’s enthusiastic bone-crushing hugs, even H and Jay’s feelings for me.
I wonder if it’s enough to fill the gaping hole that I have for my mother.
30
“Yep, still glad we’re leaving it a surprise.” Jay’s talking about the fact that none of us want to know Baby’s sex. He’s helping me button my white-cotton shirt and get back into my clothes after my new doctor, who didn’t bat an eye at having two fathers in the examination room, told me I was free to go.
The exam went well. Baby is great. Maybe a little tall, which I hope is true. And I need to gain a couple pounds. Can you believe that? Someone is telling me to gain weight. My mother must be short circuiting wherever she is.
“Yeah,” H agrees. “I like not knowing.” He smiles widely at me as I wave Jay away, trying to redress myself without his help which comes at the price of him sweeping his thumbs over my nipples. H adds, “I like that we’re keeping it a surprise.”
“Yeah, one more surprise won’t kill us.” Instantly, I want to take it back. I wish I hadn’t said that. Out loud. Especially in that tone. God, I sound like a jerk. Again.
“What’s that mean?” H glances at me then down my body, like he’s getting turned on. In a doctor’s examination room. With an examination table that has stirrups so I can spread-eagle my legs.
Men.
There’s a whole village of people waiting for me, so I should just sweep my feelings under the rug. Oh, but I can’t. “It’s just…you can tell your mom you love me, but not me. That’s quite a surprise.” I stuff my feet into my boots and have to sit down to lace up, which is anticlimactic after what I said. I was, apparently, going for the drama, what with dropping sentence
s that I know will make H defensive. And I’m not done. I glance at Jay. “And you can’t even say it when your Aunt Moe was vowing she loved me after I asked her if she wanted anything from the vending machine.”
Jay blinks. “She says she loves the postman too. So?”
I look up swallowing, all the gusto gone, feeling my ribs buckle and shatter my heart, my throat tighten too. Maybe Moe does say she loves…everybody. Maybe I’m not that special.
I think of Greta and how she told me to ask for what I want from my men. Taking a shaky breath, I ask, “Why are you with me?” I look down at the long brown laces in my boots. “I mean, if you don’t love me, then—”
“I just told my mom that I love you.” H is getting a little too loud for the small examination room. “Why do you doubt me?”
“Because you’ve never told me!” I point at my chest. God, I didn’t meant to holler, but I did. I clamp a hand over my mouth.
In a quick step, H is in front of me, breathing hot air on the top of my head. “Why am I with you?” He clutches onto my arms.
“Careful,” Jay warns.
H’s jawline kicks. “Why are you with me, Dee? When you know I can’t sleep because I think about a fucking dog that I had killed more than two years ago?”
My chin quivers slightly. “I wish you didn’t feel guilty about that, but I love—I—the man who would feel that guilty about a dog is a good man. Why wouldn’t I want to be with you? You’re noble—”
H snorts. “Do you have any fucking idea of the kinds of things I’ve done? I’ve killed, Dee. I’ve—”
“You don’t talk about your time in the military, so that’s not fair to ask.”
“She’s right.” Jay sighs. “That’s not fair. But now that you know, Dee, why do you want to be with us?”
I look at H and Jay as I say, “I know you were soldiers. I can guess what you did. You do remember that at one time I rode along with Green Berets? In Afghanistan? But what about the things I’ve done. See, what you did was for your country, for your men. But me—”
Fly (Wild Love Book 2) Page 25
