by Amira Rain
CHAPTER NINE
Up at Desmond's penthouse door, it was a repeat of the night we'd had dinner. He wasn't home, or if he was, he wasn't answering the door. Either way, I eventually gave up, went back down to my apartment, and texted Emma, asking her if she had Desmond's phone number, and if so, if she'd give it to me. She sent me his number right away, and then I hesitated, wondering what exactly I should say and how I should say it.
After being interrupted by a load of laundry in the dryer being done, requiring folding before everything got wrinkled, I ended up typing out a simple, brief message, which read Desmond, I'd like to speak to you as soon as possible. Thanks. Madison. But before I could hit send, there was a knock at my apartment door. And somehow, I didn't even need to look through the peephole to know who it was.
When I opened the door, Desmond was standing there dressed in boots, jeans, and a black t-shirt, looking as insanely attractive as ever, maybe even more so because of sunlight flooding the hallway giving his lightly tanned skin even more of a glow.
"Hello, Madison."
"Hello."
"May I come in?"
"Yes."
I stepped aside to let him enter, then closed the door, and began leading him through the foyer to the living room. "Mind if we sit and talk?"
"That's fine."
Something about the way we were both being so calm and civil made me think that our talk was either going to go really well or really poorly.
Once we reached the sun-drenched living room, we both sat down at opposite ends of a fairly long cream-colored sofa. I didn't think either of us had necessarily planned to sit so far apart; it had just kind of happened. No great surprise, I thought, that a wide gulf on a sofa should mirror the wide gulf between us on an emotional level.
With his elbows on his knees, facing forward, but with his face turned to look at me, Desmond spoke first.
"So, how's your grandmother?"
I nearly roared with laughter, instead biting back a scoff.
"Oh, don't you dare...don't you even dare even act like you give a damn. You obviously don't care about me, since you slept with me and then bolted without even so much as a 'bye,' so don't you dare even act like you care how my grandma is doing."
If he had really cared, I would have told him that I'd called Eloise the day before and she'd reported that my grandma had been enjoying a string of really great days, which had thrilled me.
After I'd said what I had, Desmond just turned his gaze forward, exhaling slowly, and didn't turn his face to look at me again for a long moment or two.
"So, you...you weren't on any kind of birth control the night...." Pausing, he raked a hand through his thick, dark hair. "The night we...."
"No. Which, yes, should have made me stop to think before we became intimate, but as fast as everything happened, I guess I just...."
Now I got the urge to rake a hand through my hair, but I resisted.
"Anyway, I should point out that at no point did you ever ask me if I was on birth control or if we might need any additional form of protection."
Desmond nodded. "I know. I realize that. I was very caught up in the moment as well. We're both to blame for this mess."
Instantly wounded, I couldn't speak right away.
"Is my baby...is my baby just a 'mess' to you, Desmond? Is that how you really feel? That my baby is just a ‘mess?’”
"No. I just meant that this whole disaster in general-"
"Oh, now my baby is a 'disaster' to you, too?"
Heaving a sigh, Desmond got up from the couch and began pacing around on a massive maroon-and-cream oriental rug in front of it.
"Look, Madison. I'm not saying that the baby itself is a 'mess' and a 'disaster'-"
"Well, it sounds like you are, and you may as well be. It sounds like you don't want to have anything to do with the baby. It sounds like you have no interest in being a parent at all."
"Well, you're right about that. I don't."
I felt as if I'd been slapped.
"I'll pay you support, and I'll pay to help you relocate shortly before the baby's born. Or even right now, if that might be easier for you. Whatever you want. I'll also pay for all costs associated with the baby's birth, and I'll even pay whatever other bills you need me to, at any time, indefinitely. But other than that-"
"You really want nothing to do with your own child?"
"I really don't."
"Desmond, please stop pacing. Look me in the eye and say that. Look me in the eye and say that you really want nothing to do with your own child."
Raking a hand through his hair again, he didn't stop pacing and instead, only seemed to accelerate his pace.
"Look. You're making this a lot harder than it has to be."
"Will you at least tell me one thing? Why didn't you at least say goodbye before you left? Were you that dissatisfied by me? I only ask this because I thought we had some sort of a real connection that night. I had the feeling that you were a good guy."
"I'm not a good guy. I left because I'd gotten what I wanted."
Tears immediately sprang to my eyes, and I didn't know what to respond right away. But after a moment or two went by with my eyes continuing to fill, I realized I had to say something just to be done with our talk and get Desmond out of my apartment, because I didn't want him to see me cry. Something about that seemed as if it would be a defeat of some kind, or a lowering of myself.
Hoping to display the same stoicism that Desmond was displaying, I did my best to hold my chin up while I spoke.
"All right, then. Fair enough. I at least appreciate your honesty in answering my question. And I guess you can just go ahead and leave now, unless you have anything more to add."
Despite my best efforts to keep my voice steady, I'd spoken with a clear tremor present as a result of suppressed pain and tears, and now Desmond finally stopped pacing and looked at me. And to my astonishment, his own eyes were radiating pain.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say what I did so harshly, but...it's the truth."
"Well, you don't need to harp on it. So, you slept with me and took off because you'd gotten what you wanted. So what. I'm a big girl. I can handle that."
A tear now rolling down my cheek said I couldn't, and I swatted it away, irritated.
"And like I said, you can just go ahead and leave now, unless you want to say something else about how you just used me and ran...or something else about how you don't care at all about the baby and want no part in its life."
"I never said I don't care about the baby."
"You're kidding. You're absolutely kidding me, Desmond. You told me that you don't want to have anything to do with the baby, and you have no interest in being a parent, but now you're implying that you actually care about the baby. Unreal. A person might think you're just trying to play mind games with me, which maybe you are. You say you're not a good guy, so I guess that fits."
"Look. Maybe I should go. I've said all I have to say."
"Great." After wiping away another tear, I pointed in the direction of the hallway. "Door's that way. Don't let it hit you in the rear on the way out. Oh, wait...I bet that won't be a problem. I forgot how good you are at making hasty exits."
Desmond didn't even have a retort, just left. Typical, I thought. Since I'd met him, all he'd been doing was leaving. First on the night we'd met, then at the restaurant, and then at present, even though the latter leaving I realized I'd asked him to do. But just the same, it was clear that he was the kind of man who didn't stick around.
The kind of man you couldn't count on. Which wasn't any kind of a man I'd ever want around my child. So I wasn't sure why, just mere moments after Desmond's most recent exit, I buried my face in my hands and cried.
CHAPTER TEN
I only allowed myself a brief cry, because I had a phone call to make. After drying my eyes and blowing my nose, I went out to the kitchen and fished out agent Cynthia's business card from a drawer, then pulled out my phone and
dialed her cell number.
Slightly worried that I might be waking her, since it was still fairly early in the morning, I was relieved when she answered, sounding completely awake and alert. Once I'd told her it was me, she asked what she could help me with, and I didn't hesitate.
"I'd like to be reassigned to a different city, please, as soon as possible. And, honestly, I don't even care if it's a city. It can be a Nowheresville tiny town, or even just a campsite with a few shifters and Gifteds. I really don't even care. I just want to be reassigned anywhere else I might be needed. Just anywhere that isn't Chicago. All I ask is that it still be close enough so that I can still visit my grandma fairly frequently."
There was a long pause before Cynthia spoke.
"Well, may I ask why you're making this request?"
"Well, for one thing, I think Desmond Grant is an insufferable ass, and he's 'not a good guy,' by his own admission, and I refuse to work under his command."
"Well, first impressions can often be wrong. What's another thing?"
"Well...." I hesitated, suddenly slightly embarrassed. "Well, for another thing, I'm pregnant with his child, and he's not thrilled about that. He's devastated, actually. Acted like it was the worst news he'd ever heard in his life."
There was another long pause before Cynthia spoke again, so long that I'd almost started to ask if she was still on the line.
"How did this all come about, Madison? How did you and Commander Grant even meet? And how did you not know that he was in Chicago?"
I didn't feel much like explaining all that.
"Look, Cynthia. Please. I just want to be reassigned to a different city. I just want to get as far from Desmond-"
"But even if the two of you aren't a romantic match, don't you at least want him to have a hand in raising his own child? And in order to do that, it seems like living closely together-"
"He doesn't even want to have a hand in raising his own child, though. He called his own child a 'mess,' and a 'disaster.'"
"Directly?"
I hesitated. "Well...well, not the baby directly, but he's none too pleased with the idea of becoming a father, that I can tell. Says he wants nothing to do with it."
"Well, some men need to ease into it. For that matter, some women need to ease into the idea of becoming a parent. In fact, when I became pregnant with my son, I cried for days. It hadn't been a planned pregnancy, and I felt like the world had collapsed all around me. I was afraid that I wouldn't have time for a child, and I was afraid that my career would suffer.
“Not to mention that I really didn't have a maternal bone in my body. However, my son's father felt very strongly that we should keep the baby and try to raise it together, and I finally agreed. Then, a bit to my astonishment, if I'm being frank, the first time I held my son, I fell completely head-over-heels in love. Many parents have a similar experience, and Commander Grant might as well."
"And if he doesn't?"
"Then you cross that bridge when you get there. But first, you at least give him a chance to be a father, and you at least give your child a chance to have a father active in his or her life."
"But you don't understand. He just got done telling me in no uncertain terms that he wants nothing to do with the baby, and he has no interest in being a parent at all. It's not like he said he'll at least give things a try or something. I doubt he'll ever have the opportunity to have a 'head over heels in love' moment holding the baby, because I bet he'll refuse to hold the baby in the first place, or even look at it."
As Cynthia listened patiently, I was strangely beginning to feel like I was a kid on a playground tattling on another kid, and it hadn't been my intention to "tattle" on Desmond. Truly, the only reason I'd called Cynthia was to try to get another Gifted assignment, so that I could still receive the pay and benefits I needed in order to support my baby, all while getting far away from Desmond. He made it sound like he just wanted me to move somewhere and live off his money for the rest of my life, and as long as he was rejecting the baby, I didn't want to take a dime from him.
Cynthia was quiet before issuing her verdict. "At this point, we're not going to reassign you, Madison. Chicago is where your services as a Gifted are most urgently needed. You'll continue to live in the tower, which I firmly believe is the best place for you to be right now."
"And what if Desmond kicks me out? What about if he would like me to leave Chicago? He does, you know. He says he wants me to relocate somewhere else before the baby is born. And I'm pretty sure he's gunning for 'immediately,' rather than later."
"Well, the United States government will be telling him that any relocation won't be happening immediately. I think this whole situation needs a bit of time to shake itself out. If you and Commander Grant are still unhappy with you still living in Chicago a few months from now, then we'll talk again."
Something about Cynthia's tone of voice told me that she was completely finished discussing everything, and when I didn't respond, she wished me well and ended the call.
I didn't see or speak to Desmond the next day, or the next. The day after that, Emma, Jake, and I took a little road trip in my car to visit my grandma in Quincy. The visit went extremely well, with Jake being a very unexpected treat for the care home residents and staff members. My grandma gave him several hugs and lots of kisses on his big, round cheeks, and another woman kept clapping her hands together every so often, saying he was "just beautiful."
Even one elderly man named Marvin, who Eloise sometimes muttered was a "grumpy Gus," seemed tickled by Jake, encouraging him as he lobbed tiny stuffed animals several feet across the room. Before Emma, Jake, and I left, I saw Marvin wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve, telling Eloise that he'd thought his granddaughter would never bring his little great-grandson to visit him ever again.
A while back, Eloise had told me that Marvin's family had stopped visiting him a year earlier, saying that when Marvin didn't recognize them and had angry outbursts related to his Alzheimer's, it was too hard on them.
After being the center of so much attention, Jake immediately passed out on the way home, clutching a tiny stuffed dog. Deciding that this might be a good time to broach the subject of Emma's Gifted troubles with her, I briefly thought about what might be the best way to kind of casually bring them up.
"So, I've been thinking...do you think you might want to-"
"No, Madison. I'm not joining in at the next Gifted practice with you."
Stunned, I glanced over at her. "How do you even know that's what I was going to say?"
"Well, wasn't it?"
"Well...yes."
"Look. I've been waiting for you to ask me to join in. I saw the way you kept looking over at me during your first practice, and then you kept giving me the same kind of looks yesterday. Both practices, you kept looking like you felt bad for me and you wanted me to join in with the group. Which is really nice of you to have that impulse, but I'm not ever joining in, no matter what. I'll never be of use as a Gifted, and I long ago figured that out, so there's no point in me even trying anymore."
"But you said yourself that you were initially successful at levitating...successful enough that someone in your town was able to take video that they sent to the government for a cash reward for having located a Gifted."
Emma shrugged, gaze on the long stretch of road in front of us.
"Yeah. But that didn't last long."
"Well, what happened? Why do you think you lost your power?"
Emma took so long in responding that I started wondering if she was going to or not, but then she finally spoke.
"Basically, here's the story. I was a latent Gifted like you. I found out I was pregnant, and my husband Josh and I were overjoyed. The next day in town, I was grocery shopping for things to make a special celebration meal for us; a little container of cornstarch fell out of the overfull hand-basket thing I was carrying and I accidentally levitated it into my hand while in the process of kneeling down with my hand outstretche
d to grab it.
“It just sort of...levitated its own self, it felt like. But then, with a bunch of people in the store watching, I levitated a bunch of other things, this time actually trying to. I even levitated a cart full of groceries several feet off the ground and just held it there for probably ten seconds."
"Which, from what I've heard, is a long time for a brand-new Gifted to levitate anything. It sounds like you were pretty good at it."
"Maybe. I don't know."
"So what happened that you couldn't do it anymore?"
Again, Emma hesitated a really long time before responding.
"When I got out to my car with my groceries, I was so happy and excited I was really losing my mind. See, Josh was working as a construction foreman, and I'd recently been let go from my secretarial job for mixing up some very important files for about the fifth time.
