Calamity Rayne: Gets A Life

by Lydia Michaels

Brow pinched with concern, he looked at me. “Are you sick?”

  “No, but I might be pregnant.”

  “What?”

  “Just drive!”

  He put the car in drive and two minutes later we were pulling up to CVS. “I’ll be right out.”

  “Do you want me to come in with—”

  I slammed the door in his face. I couldn’t be expected to sit around discussing the weather when a person might be getting drunk off a vodka-fermented umbilical cord in my uterus. Come on people!

  I went down the aisles until I found the one with tampons, condoms, and—ooh, heated massage oil. Focus! Right.

  Oh, God, there were twenty different kinds. Holding up my basket, I knocked one of each brand off the shelf and into my basket. Detouring down aisle two, I covered the pregnancy tests with a box of cookies, because shit like this called for cookies.

  At the register, I feared the clerk might call out a price check, but it was nothing quite so dramatic. But damn, pregnancy tests were expensive. What a racket! People knew these were essentially sticks you peed on, right?

  Flopping into the car I caught my breath. Hale scrutinized the two bags.

  “How many did you buy?”

  I waved a hand for him to go. “It’s good to be sure.”

  When we got to his house, I went straight to the bathroom. Hale waited outside the door. He didn’t seem to be pacing, which I would have been, but currently, I was trying to aim a stream of urine onto a narrow stick—basically pissing all over my hand. “Damn it.”

  I buckled my knees together. “Can you get me a cup?”

  I wasn’t coordinated enough for this crap, but I’d done my fair share of tailgating so I could pee into a cup like nobody’s business.

  Hale opened the door and held out a crystal glass.

  “What are we having, a wedding? A plastic cup!” I couldn’t hold it much longer.

  Hale returned with a glass mug. “This is the best I can do.”

  I grabbed the mug and sent him a withering look. “Privacy?”

  He closed the door and I unleashed the floodgates. When I was finished, I washed my hands and opened three tests, saving some for morning—something about the pregnancy chemical being strongest then.

  Biting my lip, I frowned at the three little sticks.

  Please don’t be positive. Please.

  Hale knocked. “Anything?”

  “You can come in.”

  He stood behind me, staring at the sink as we waited. Pictures of neglected houseplants played through my mind.

  I had an image of myself in my grandmother’s apron, with my hair in a sloppy brothel bun. I was smoking cigarettes, holding a kid on each hip and had one in my belly. There were houseflies and screaming children and I think we were in some sort of shed house with a dirt floor.

  Then I pictured myself being handed a huge wad of sweaty cash and my baby being taken away by Remington and put into some lame sailor suit as they cruised him off to prep school. The image was so clear and terrifying.

  “I’m not selling you my baby!” I blurted.

  “What?”

  Oh God, I couldn’t breathe.

  “They’re negative,” Hale muttered and walked out of the bathroom.

  I hung back, checking each package booklet to be sure the signs all matched. Relief didn’t immediately kick in. I threw the tests in the trashcan and sat on the toilet seat. I needed to go on the pill.

  When I finally emerged from the bathroom, Hale was sitting on the couch having a drink. Feeling like I might have overreacted a tad, I approached slowly.

  “Sorry. I’m just not ready for anything like that. I freaked out.”

  He glanced at me but said nothing. Okay, maybe the selling my baby thing was crossing a line, but look at the situation he was in now.

  “I kill a lot of goldfish and houseplants,” I lamely explained.

  He frowned, those silver eyes observing too much.

  Great, now he was probably thinking he should keep me away from his daughter. Not a bad call, but I at least wanted a chance to play with her a little. I didn’t dislike babies for malicious reasons. It was more about my tendency for calamity and habit of dropping expensive things and my forgetfulness when I was supposed to be taking care of something.

  He still wasn’t talking.

  “Are you mad at me?” I asked, wishing I’d kept my panic to myself.

  “If you were to get pregnant, Rayne, we’d figure it out together.”

  I knew that, but these were Davenports. They had more power than me. I was just a Meyers. The only cool things Meyers did were write vampire books. And those people weren’t my relatives anyway.

  I sat stiffly beside him. “Okay.”

  “If this is too much for you, I need to know now.”

  “You can’t say things like that, Hale. How am I supposed to know where we’ll be in a few weeks?”

  He put his glass on the table and faced me. “If it were my choice, we’d be together. I know my life’s going to change, but I don’t want us to change.”

  But we were going to change. He was going to change. “I think we just have to see how everything plays out.” It wasn’t my baby.

  His eyes showed intense concentration as he stared at me. “I’m in love with you, Rayne.”

  My face went numb, my voice suddenly seeming very far away. “What?”

  “I love you.”

  I slowly recoiled and wrung my hands. “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know what to say.”

  He scoffed. “Do you love me?”

  Crap. Panic. “I…I don’t know.” Maybe. Probably. My palms were clammy. Fuck.

  He picked up his drink and finished it. “Well, this night didn’t go as planned.” He stood and walked to the bar.

  “That’s not fair. How was I supposed to know my period would be late for no reason?”

  “I’m not talking about that.”

  “Then what are you talking about?” God, I sucked—absolutely sucked—at relationship communication.

  “I’m talking about us, Rayne. You and me.”

  “I understand that, but why are you angry?”

  “I don’t know!” He paced and gripped the back of his neck. “I’m upset the test was negative—and I hear how crazy that sounds.”

  Whoa. “Um…” I looked for reinforcements, but we were still alone in his house. “Hale, I’m not ready to have a baby. I don’t even know if I’ll ever have children.”

  “Do you want them?”

  I leaned back and blew out a breath. “That’s a big decision.”

  “You’re thirty. You had to have considered the possibility at some point.”

  Shutting my eyes, I silently counted to ten. “Look, I don’t really get why we’re fighting—”

  “We’re not fighting.”

  “But I’m just going to be honest with you. I admire what you’re doing. I don’t know anyone else that would make such a sacrifice just because it was the right thing to do. But it scares me. Your life’s going to be unrecognizable from what it was and this baby will be yours, not mine. We’ve known each other for weeks, not months, not years, weeks. You can’t expect me to make some life-altering commitment just because it fits into your timetable.”

  Just the mention of commitment had me searching for an exit. I wasn’t even sure he really loved me. Maybe he was rushing things out of desperation, hoping to find a maternal figure in this mess.

  “Parenting’s a huge deal, which is why it terrifies me. I’m willing to see if our relationship will still work once you’re a father, but I’m far from ready to be a mother.”

  He made a sound confirming he’d heard me, his expression unreadable.

  “Please say something.”

  “I just assumed you’d be involved.”

  “You didn’t even know me a month ago. You agreed to adopt this baby way before then.”

  “I know. I’m completely
aware that this is my responsibility, and I signed up for it, but I…I want her to know you.”

  My lips twitched. For some reason that made me smile, but I was still unsure. “And I’ll meet her when she gets here.”

  He returned to the couch and sighed like a teapot holding in too much steam. “I can’t remember a time I’ve ever been this stressed out.”

  My fear and ego took a backseat for a moment as I tried, once again, to fathom how big this was. I gave him a shoulder nudge. “I have faith in you.”

  “Thanks.”

  He kissed my forehead and rested his arm over my shoulders, both of us staring straight ahead, thoughts distracted.

  “Are you close with your dad?” His question startled me.

  I wasn’t used to those close to me discussing something that was hardly on the table as a conversation piece.

  Everything inside of me locked up. This was exactly why it was too soon to say I love you. There was still so much we didn’t know about each other.

  “I never met my dad.”

  He turned, his surprise clear in the crease of his brow. “Really?”

  “Really.” I nodded, pushing away the painful sense of inadequacy. “He didn’t want to be tied down. Through the years I tried to contact him. A few times he sent a Christmas card, but only signed his name. He never sent birthday cards or called.”

  Part of me believed that was because my birth was so unremarkable in his world, he’d forgotten the date I was born.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  I gave a sad smile. “It’s okay.” It wasn’t, but what could I say? “So you see, what you’re doing, raising this baby that needs a father, it’s probably the most selfless thing I’ve ever seen. You want the daughter that no one else wanted. She needs a dad and the first thing you’ll ever do for her is be one—a good one, who’s there when no one else is. That’s pretty incredible.”

  It also made me want to punch Remington right in the dick, but he was old.

  His gaze found mine, and a gentle smile curved his lips. “And that’s why I love you.”

  There was that sticky word again. “Will you show me the nursery?”

  He nodded and took my hand as we stood.

  The baby’s room was amazaballs. It had everything. Seriously, if Hale could use a breast pump he would have bought one.

  “This is beautiful.”

  “Thanks. Do you think she’ll like it?”

  He still needed to brush up on his reading, because I didn’t think he had a grasp of developmental stages just yet. But I humored him. “I think she’ll love it.”

  We walked over to the crib and stared inside at the delicate bunting. There was going to be a baby in there soon. It would make noise and spit up and shit all over that pale pink quilt. I told myself this because I didn’t like children. And I told myself I didn’t like children because I didn’t understand why part of me wanted his baby to be mine.

  Dangerous, dangerous, crazy territory. Once again, my ovaries were depressed.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Will Everyone Just Shut Up and Give me a Minute?

  Of course, I got my period the next morning and why wouldn’t I? It was only the busiest day I’d had since working for Remington.

  First, I had to run home and get tampons. Then I was off to the marina making sure all the deliveries had arrived for the party and the casino games were in their proper places. Next, it was back to the house because Remington thought this was the perfect day to go over the energy notes I’d made from the proposals. That was an hour I really couldn’t spare. Then it was back to the marina.

  The Lady Parr was shaping up to look like a casino cruise designed for the elite and everything was going smooth until I heard thunder.

  “What the hell was that?”

  Marta pointed at a patch of storm clouds approaching from the east. “There’s supposed to be showers over the next hour.”

  “What the ever-loving fuck?” I growled. “Move the linens off the deck and get them inside. Someone grab the raffle baskets!”

  I hustled from the main deck up to the sky deck and gathered the favors I’d been piecing together. I was sweating like a heifer on her way to slaughter by the time I had everything back in a box.

  My phone rang and I snapped, “Meyers.”

  “Hey, Rayne.”

  It was Phina. I clamped my lips shut as I gathered all the crap off the table. Didn’t she know we were in a red alert, all hands on deck, batten down the hatches situation?

  Apparently, she didn’t. “We were going to take a ride over to see the yacht. Is that cool?”

  Goddamn it. Nothing’s ready yet.

  Keeping my voice as pleasant as possible, I said, “It’s going to rain. I’d wait another hour until the storm passes.” Another roll of thunder.

  “We’re just going to peek.”

  Motherfucking, cock licking, ball sniffing damn it. I kept my voice calm and sweet. “I think your dad wanted you to see it when it was all done.”

  Please just give me more time…

  “Oh, all right.” She sighed. “I guess I can wait. I’m so excited! We’ll be there about an hour before the guests arrive. Just me and a few close friends. We want to have a bottle on the sky deck to kick things off.”

  “Okay. I’ll make sure it’s ready for you.”

  “Thanks, Rayne. I can’t wait!”

  “See you then.” I ended the call and raced inside just as the first raindrops pelted my shoulders.

  Seraphina called three more times over the next two hours. I prided myself on not freaking out, but inside my head, I was stabbing voodoo dolls. This party planning shit was for the birds.

  By ten of six, everything was once again dry. The auction baskets were set up along the main deck where guests would see them upon arrival. The furniture in the main living room had been rearranged to make it look like a lounge and all the lighting had been switched out with dim bulbs to complement the burgundy and gold fabric I used to swath the room.

  An enormous roulette wheel was situated on the upper deck and the hired staff was dressed to the nines in bow ties and white gloves. Laurent had hors d’oeuvres ready to roll and the butler crew was briefed on their stations. There was a bar on every floor and two on the upper deck, one inside and one out.

  I ran the bottle that had been chilling on ice up to the sky deck and put it down just as I heard Seraphina’s voice below. Her small group of friends added up to fifteen people. As I went down to greet them, I saw Miles helping Remington out of the limo.

  “Here we go,” I whispered, pasting on a smile and taking the stairs to greet the guest of honor. “Welcome to Seraphina’s Casino Royale.”

  She beamed and rushed to give me a loving hug. “Everything looks fabulous, Rayne!”

  “It was all your father’s doing.” Passing the praise wasn’t too painful. At least this way, if anything went wrong, I’d only be partially accountable. “You’re all set up on the sky deck. The DJ will start in about ten minutes.”

  As the group of friends disappeared above, I overheard comments of praise dappling their conversation and felt a pinch of satisfaction.

  “Meyers, you’re not dressed,” Remington said in greeting.

  Glancing down at my usual yacht uniform, I sighed. I’d considered wearing something nicer, but after being on my feet all day and running from one end of the boat to the other, it just seemed more sensible to wear something easy.

  “I’ll stay in the background.”

  “Hell no.” He frowned. “Go change.”

  “I still have to—”

  “Meyers,” he warned.

  Gritting my teeth, I nodded and slipped down to the stateroom where I’d hung my dress. Of course, ten people stopped me along the way to ask where I wanted something. I was swiftly reaching the point of screaming, I don’t fucking care!

  My dress was nothing special, just a plain black wrap, but the shoes were fancy. I debated if I co
uld get away with wearing my sneakers, but I knew that wouldn’t fly.

  Slipping off my shoes, I hissed. There was a lovely blister on my heel.

  Well, that’s gonna feel great with pumps.

  Hale had texted me several times that day, but I only had the time to send him one word replies. Just as guests started to arrive, I got another text from him asking where I was, but the marble to the roulette wheel was missing, and I needed to find where we stashed the box of backup marbles. Finally, I found it and ran it up to the guy manning the wheel.

  Music was pumping, people were mingling, drinks were flowing, and I was suffocating. I crept through the back stairwell, planning to catch my breath in my room, but Barrett was showing some woman where he slept. Backing up the stairs, I slipped into Remington’s room and shut the door.

  Closing my eyes, I pressed my weight into the door and simply breathed. My fragile hold on my sanity slipped as my phone rang. “Hello?”

  “Where are you?”

  Hale. His name came on a mental exhale that eased a great deal of my tension. Him I could handle. It was all those other people depending on me to wipe their asses who were making me crazy.

  My head tipped against the door. “Hiding.”

  He chuckled softly and the sound was so full of intimate understand, it teased my senses into a calmer place.

  “Location?”

  “Your father’s room.”

  There was a tap on the other side of the door and he whispered, “Little pig, little pig.”

  Grinning, I opened the door and bashfully smirked. “It’s crazy out there.”

  He pocketed his phone and smiled. “You did great.”

  I cracked the door only enough so he could slip in. “I need ten minutes before I can go back out there.” My phone pinged and I growled, but Hale took it out of my hand.

  “Ignore it.”

  “I—”

  “They’ll be fine, Rayne. Take a breath.”

  Nodding, I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off my shoe, wincing at my blister.

  Hale held out a gift bag. “I thought you might need this.”

  “You got me a present?” Sweet man.

  “I know my girl.”

  For the first time that day, all the little obligations fell away. “That’s really sweet.”