by Vivian Wood
“And everything is okay with…” he swallows. Maybe he’s having the same issue as I am. “With the baby?”
“Totally. I actually just had my first official test,” I say.
He looks surprised. “Did they do… what is it called? Where they run a magnetic wand over your stomach and get a picture?”
“An ultrasound?” I say, trying not to laugh. “No, definitely not. It’s way too early for that. They just did a pregnancy test.”
Jett exhales. “Okay. Well, what about Seattle? Are you still thinking about moving?”
I shake my head. “It would be accepting a huge promotion, starting their new office out there. And Olive was asked to move to Seattle too… I think I would be crazy not to do it for a couple of years. But… I think a lot of that depends on you and your career.”
His brow hunches. “Yeah. I’m not sure what I’ll do, but we can work something out. Just as long as you and… the baby are safe.”
He pales a little when he says the baby. I bite my lip.
“It’s okay to be completely freaked out,” I tell him. “Having a baby is like… a pretty fucking big deal.”
Jett looks a little sheepish. “It doesn’t seem real yet.”
“No, it definitely doesn’t. But it’ll be here before we know it. And we have a ton of stuff to sort out before then.”
“Like almost everything,” he muses.
“But that could be a good thing!” I say.
“We’ll just say that it is,” he says with a wink. He accidentally bumps my IVs, reminding me of where we are.
“Alright, enough of this,” I say. “I’m going to call a nurse to unhook me from these things.”
“Whoa, there,” he says. “Is it going to kill you to sit here and let everyone fuss over you for the next couple of hours?”
I wrinkle my nose. “Maybe.”
“Nope. You are staying put. That’s an order,” he says. He picks up my hand and places a kiss on the back of it, then stands up. “You’re carrying my baby, so you stay as long as they think you need to stay.”
I want to protest, but his declaration makes my heart swell with emotion.
“Okay,” I sigh. “Just so you know, I do not find this charming.”
He grins. “You say that, but I think you do. You love me, remember?”
I bite my lip. “I really do.”
“Then trust me to take care of you.”
“I do! Or… I will,” I say, shifting in the bed.
He peeks outside the curtain, then comes back and sits on the bed once more. He looks down into my eyes, and takes my hand.
“It’s going to be fine, Cady. I promise. I think the three of us will do really well.”
“Yeah?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he says. “You’ll see.”
Emotion blooms from deep in my chest. I lean forward and kiss him, thinking of how lucky I am.
“Yes, we will.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Cady
Six Months Later
I stretch in my chair at the new office, arching my back. My baby bump sticks out even further, pushing against my desk and levering me away in my office chair. I eye my ever-expending stomach; I’m wearing the stretchy black maternity skirt that I favor and a white tank top, plus a pink cardigan. I pick a couple of Milo’s hairs off my skirt, then make a face.
“Oooh,” I say, wincing. “Careful with my organs in there, kid.”
The fun new thing that my little boy is doing is doing what feels like kick flips inside my belly. Putting my hand on my stomach to try to calm the baby, I rise from my chair to walk a little. I look out my wall to ceiling glass windows at the downtown skyline of Seattle.
It’s still unbelievable to me that I’m here. The first couple months of my pregnancy were hard as hell on my body… and that’s not even considering the whole moving across the country thing.
Luckily, Jett is here with me, and Olive too. It took Jett and I a bit to figure out how we were going to do it: Jett had his job and his house, I had my house and my baby to worry about.
But Jett managed to keep most of his clients through telecommuting and once per month trips. And both of us sold our homes, finding a perfect three-bedroom home on the outskirts of Seattle.
As for my health, I’ve been super pro-active during my pregnancy. Yoga, running, birthing classes… Seattle is the place to be for expectant mothers, it seems.
The baby won’t stop kicking. I fold my hands over my belly and pace. It usually calms him down.
Today is a challenge of sorts. It seems like everything that could go wrong has gone wrong. First, one of my clients was a no show during our depositions, apparently having overslept. Then I wasn’t paying attention, barreling down the hall and talking on my phone. I ran right into one of the first year associates, who was carrying a cup of hot coffee.
Unsurprisingly, the hot coffee ended up all over the right side of my skirt. That was at least an hour ago, but it’s only just now drying. Damn Seattle humidity.
To top it all off, I got the yearly photos back that the firm forces everyone to take. After looking at the proofs, I locked myself in my office and bawled at how fat I’ve become.
So yeah, today has been a test. Of what, I do not know. I just know that hormones and emotions are running high.
At least my pacing has calmed the baby down a little. I bounce for another minute, then head back to my desk.
As I’m settling in, Olive knocks on my open door. She looks gorgeous as ever, wearing a perfect black silk dress with a huge black bow on one shoulder. “Hey, you.”
“Hey,” I say, trying not to be envious of her ability to wear normal clothes.
She looks at me, her gaze narrowing. “You look tired. Are you feeling alright?”
“Yup,” I nod. “Except there is this creature feeding off of my essence. Everything else is alright.”
“Ha ha,” she says. “Where are your shoes?”
I turn and look at my black flats. I wore heels until month five, and then it was laughable to think about continuing. “Oh, under the desk. I’ll put them back on if anyone I don’t know comes by.”
“Well, you might want to put them on. I’m taking you to lunch.” She smiles, a little too broadly.
I cast a suspicious gaze in her direction. “Why?”
“Can’t a girl just want to take her best friend to lunch? Besides, I got reservations at Altura. You loved that place, according to Jett.”
I brighten up. “I did! They do the best cannoli. Just thinking about it makes my mouth water.”
Olive beams. “Great! Get your shoes and make sure you bundle up. It’s cold outside. I’ll meet you in the lobby downstairs, alright?”
I nod. She shuttles out of my office, leaving me to get my big blue wool maternity coat on. I put on my coat and my shoes, groaning a bit when my sore feet hit the soles. It’s almost time to go up a size in shoes, if I continue to hold so much water.
A few minutes later, I head down to the elevator. When I hit the lobby, Olive is waiting.
“Did you hear that the lead witness in my case might have bailed?” she says. We both shield our eyes as we head out into the bright light of downtown, here amongst the tall, grey buildings. “Oh, I think that’s our Uber right there.”
I’m so glad to have Olive with me, because even though Altura is technically walkable from here, no way do I want to try. Luckily, she didn’t even consult me, she just called for an Uber without me. We walk down to the curb, where our car is waiting. I shiver against the cold breeze that rattles through downtown.
“No, I didn’t hear anything. What happened?” I say as I ease into the new Toyota. We pull out and take a right.
“So the guy, Tony Grimes, is now worried that his family might be in danger if he testifies in open court.” She wrinkles her nose. “He knew that from the get go, but now he’s concerned, whatever that means.”
“Do you think he’s going to testify?” I ask.<
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“I don’t know. We’ll sit down with him tomorrow and see if we can allay his concerns.” She pushes a hand through her long red hair. “It’s kind of a tense situation.”
We chat for a few minutes, and then the car pulls up outside Altura. It’s a simple little glass doorfront, without any showy stuff. It’s pretty unassuming. That’s one of the things that I think makes it special.
“Here we are,” Olive announces.
We both get out of the car, walking up to the restaurant. I squint.
“Are you sure they’re open?” I ask her. “It looks… empty. It’s never empty.”
“I’m sure,” she says with a wink. She looks secretive as she opens the door for me. “You first.”
I glare at Olive. She knows something, and she’s not telling. I try to think of what it could be. My birthday was two months ago, and we’re past the New Year already. Could it be a really early baby shower?
I don’t actually think I know when a baby shower is even supposed to happen, I think. That must be it.
I head inside the restaurant, which is almost empty, the tables all set and the bar polished. There is only one waiter, standing there ready to take our coats. I pull my coat off and hand it over to him.
“Hi,” I smile at him, a little puzzled.
“Miss Ellis,” he says, bowing. “We have a table for you, right this way.”
I turn to Olive, but she hasn’t even taken her coat off.
“Aren’t you coming?” I ask, my brow furrowing.
“In a little while,” she says, waving off any concern. “Don’t worry, you’re where you’re meant to be.”
“What?” I say, but she backs toward the door.
“If you would, please?” the waiter says.
“Ummm… all right…” I say, shaking my head. I follow him into another room, which is cleared out except for one white linen-covered table and two chairs.
Jett is there, handsome in an immaculate dark grey suit. Even now, his dark hair and tattoos give me chills, even though I am irritable. He grins when he spots me, standing up.
“Jett!” I scold him. “What the hell is going on?”
“Cady,” he says, pulling out a chair for me. “Sit.”
I waddle over to the chair and sit down, internally sighing. He rubs my shoulders for a few seconds, which is heavenly.
“This is a baby shower?” I murmur, letting my eyes close a little.
He chuckles. “No.”
I open my my eyes as he releases me, taking his seat beside me. “Then why are we here?”
“You aren’t going to make this easy for me, are you?” he jokes.
“Make what easy? Baby, you know that I don’t like surprises…” I say, rubbing my baby bump. “Also, your son doesn’t like them either. He won’t sit still.”
He holds up his hand. “Okay, okay. I was going to ask the kitchen for dinner first, but I think you’ll be more comfortable if I just say it.”
“Say what—“ I begin, but I cut myself off when he reaches in his pocket and produces a black velvet ring box. I look at him, my hands flying to my mouth. “Is that—“
“Shhh,” Jett says, trying not to laugh. “Just let me do this the right way.”
Tears start leaking down both sides of my face as he moves from his chair, kneeling before me. My heart feels like it’s beating so fast that it might break free of my chest. When he opens the ring box with a snap, I’m overwhelmed.
He’s chosen a beautiful emerald, flanked on both sides by diamonds. He clears his throat, and I look at him, trying not to cry too loudly.
“Cady Anne Ellison,” he says, his voice tense. “From the day I met you, I knew that you were special. I love your passion, and your intelligence blows me away. I even like your cat, even though I’m not a cat person. I love you, Cady.”
I am trying to hold back my sobs. I manage, “I love you too.”
He gives me that million dollar smile. “Will you do me the honor of being my wife?”
I nod emphatically, too choked up to speak. He plucks the ring out of the box, and holds his hand out for mine. I shakingly put my small hand in his big one, and he slips the ring on.
Then he stands and helps me to my feet, dipping me just a little as he kisses me. I curl my hands around his nape as I kiss him back, sucking in lungfuls of his clean scent.
In that moment, I know without a shadow of a doubt that I am going to be happy and cared for the rest of my life.
Dr. Hottie
Chapter One
If Addison Fuller could summarize her experience with drinking tequila, it would probably go like this: tequila gives you rug burn on your face, and a ring on your finger.
But to tell the story correctly, she would have to start from the beginning, before she’d ever laid eyes on Dr. Jack Stratton. It would go something like this…
Addy made a frustrated sound, and felt a little chunk of her worries slide away. As she wiped down the built-in bookshelves in the great room, she felt the weight of the past ten days melt away. Even the confrontation with Jeremy seemed like a distant memory.
Who cares if it was just last week? she thought.
“Additup,” her dad sang from his La-Z-Boy, which was perpetually parked in front of the television. “Take a break! You’re making me tired just watching you.”
“Then it’s a good thing you’re in a recliner,” she said with a laugh.
“It’s a holiday! It’s your day off, take a breather,” he said.
“But then who would pick up after you and Kenzie?” she asked as she moved behind him with a duster and squeezed his shoulder.
He shook his head and reached for a beer. It was his third one of the day, Addy noted. Drinking beer, yelling at the television, and scowling at social invitations was the trifecta of his life. He barely talked to anyone besides her and Kenzie.
“Where is Kenzie?” she asked, wondering where her sister had gotten off to.
Her dad just grunted and looked at the tv in front of him. Her fingers itched to pluck the beer can from his hand before he passed out and spilled it all over the living room rug. She resisted, though.
I’ll just wait until he’s passed out. It’s not like he’s going anywhere.
Addy had worried about the drastic shift to hermitdom after her mom had passed, but it had been three years now.
This is the new normal, she thought to herself. She couldn’t believe there had been a time when her dad had worked eighty-hour weeks getting his restaurant started.
“What do you think of checking out the fireworks this year?” she asked, though she knew it was pointless. “Dad?”
She turned around, but he’d already started to snore. Gingerly, she pried the beer from his fingers and put it on the table.
Just in case she might awaken him with her cleaning, she took her chores to the garage. There was a major project she hadn’t had time for, one that had been on her to-do list for over a year. Keeping the inside of the home clean had been the priority. As Addy began to look through the stuffed shelves, a box of binders shifted and nearly hit her head.
Carefully, she began to pull out the box. Her own handwriting pulled her back to the blackest of days, when she’d been thirteen years old. It was when her mom had first been diagnosed, and she’d started to track the signs and symptoms meticulously.
Addison clucked her tongue as she flipped through hundreds of pages of her neat handwriting. Her mom’s entire life, from the day of diagnosis to the day she died, was right here in bright pink and turquoise ink.
“Red and swollen lymph nodes today,” was scrawled on the page in her ten year old cursive. “Doctor says it’s usually not a sign of cancer.”
Yeah, well. Sometimes doctors can be wrong.
Tears began to threaten at the corners of her eyes as she pored over the binders.
“What are you doing?” she asked herself. She looked to the recycling bin and for a moment had a surge of empowerment.
Wha
t am I keeping these for? But she just couldn’t throw them out. Addy put the box back on the shelf. One day she would do it, but today wasn’t the day.
Once again, the garage was left for another day. In the laundry room, she sorted the clothes and began a new load. Addy moved to the refrigerator and started to rinse out old bottles of expired condiments and toss takeout food from the restaurant as the washing machine rumbled away.
Satisfied with the clean fridge, with the shelves wiped down and only healthy, unexpired options available, she sat down at the kitchen island and started to go through the bills.
Just as she wrote a check for the mortgage, her phone buzzed in her back pocket. It was her sister.
“Kenzie, what’s up?” she asked.
“Hey! What are you doing?”
“Paying the mortgage.”
“Ew.”
“Ew? I don’t pay, we’re all homeless.”
“Whatever. Anyway, I was calling to tell you everyone’s going to Dusty’s tonight for fireworks! You should come.”
“Everyone? Who’s everyone?”
“You know, everyone who isn’t a dinosaur but is of legal drinking age. C’mon, you never go out!”
“I never go to Dusty’s, you mean. There’s a difference.”
“No, I mean you never go out! You always stay in, doing the bills or whatever. And what’s wrong with Dusty’s? Dive bars are awesome.”
Addy sighed. Her big Fourth of July plans were to stay home and go to bed early, but Kenzie’s enthusiasm was infectious. Besides, her little sister was right. She didn’t go out anymore.
“Okay, okay,” Addy said. “I’ll come. What time?”
“Meet me there in like… thirty minutes after my shift.”
“Thirty minutes? Is that going to give you enough time to drop the deposit off at the bank on the way?”
“Oh my God! You never stop! Yes, Boss Lady, I’ll take the deposit.”
“Be nice or I won’t go.”
