by Street, K.
We made small talk over breakfast and I tried not to let my nerves get the best of me as the minutes ticked by until we went to his parents’ house for lunch.
* * *
Easton pulled into his parents’ driveway, shut off the engine, and glanced across the cab of the truck at me. “It’s going to be fine.”
I was certain he could tell by the stricken look on my face that I didn’t agree with him in the least.
His parents had been married forever, and his sister, Saylor, was practically one of his best friends. They were loyal and fiercely protective of each other. The whole concept, that kind of closeness, was completely foreign to me. They would love and accept our child because he or she was a part of Easton. But me … I had walked out on the man that they loved. I doubted they would be so forgiving.
“Ready?” he asked.
No.
It wasn’t like I could stay in the truck forever, so instead of giving him my answer, I reached for the door handle, gripping the hard black plastic with sweaty fingers, and pulled it open.
Together, we walked up the sidewalk that led to the Chadwicks’ front door.
Easton knocked twice before turning the knob and entering his childhood home. “Mom, Dad, we’re here,” he called out.
“In the kitchen, baby,” a feminine voice called out.
My anxiety ratcheted up with every step we took, and I couldn’t help but feel as though I was headed into the mama-bear version of a lion’s den.
Caroline looked up with a genuine smile from where she stood at the huge island in the center of the kitchen. Her long blonde hair was pinned in a French twist, and she wore a floral apron over her clothes. In one hand, she held a spatula covered in frosting while she rotated the cake stand with the other, smoothing out the thick, creamy, chocolatey goodness over a layer of cake.
She set her spatula aside and wiped her hands on a dish towel. “Come on in, you two. Molly, it’s lovely to see you.” Love radiated from her entire being as she moved toward her son. “Happy birthday, East.”
He drew her into a hug. “Thanks, Mom. Where is everyone?” he asked as they broke apart.
“Saylor, Knox, Jase, and your grandmother should be here any minute. Your dad is in his office.” She smiled at me and then glanced back at her son. “Why don’t you go say hello?”
“Sure. I need to talk to Dad anyway.” He directed his attention to me and gave me a reassuring look. “I’ll be right back.”
When Easton left the room, Caroline’s warm gaze met mine. “It’s been too long.” She opened her arms and tugged me into an embrace. “I’ve missed you, sweet girl,” she whispered the endearment against my ear.
Emotion I didn’t want to feel got stuck in my throat. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. I had expected coldness. I had expected ire. Not … this. Never in a million years had I expected the love that exuded from this woman. But I should have because Caroline was kind and maternal.
Slowly, so damn slowly, my arms lifted and slid around her.
I tried to ignore the voice in my head. The one that sounded an awful lot like my mother.
“Nobody will ever love you.”
“You’re more trouble than you’re worth.”
“I don’t want you.”
“I never wanted you.”
Every cell in my body screamed at me to run.
Caroline’s grip tightened as if she’d heard the taunts, too.
Standing there in her kitchen, I clung to her as though my life depended on it.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and gathered every bit of courage I had to force the words past my lips. “I missed you, too.” I hadn’t realized how true the sentiment was until now.
After another minute, she stepped back and took me in. “How far along are you?”
“Nearly twenty-seven weeks. I’m due November 19.”
“Almost a Thanksgiving baby,” she exclaimed, her smile huge. “Go ahead, have a seat.” She gestured to one of the barstools flanking the other side of the island. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Water would be great.” I took a seat while she reached into the cupboard for a glass.
Caroline set the glass on the countertop and stepped over to the fridge, pulling out a pitcher of ice water. Cucumbers and mint swirled in the clear liquid as she filled the tumbler and set it in front of me. “Do you know what you’re having?”
“No.”
If my answer surprised her, she didn’t show it.
“Well, we can just throw a neutral baby shower.”
I nearly choked on my water. “You want to throw me a baby shower?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Well”—I gripped the glass, focusing on the contents inside—“it’s just the last thing I expected; that’s all.”
“Why? Because you left?”
I lifted my gaze to meet hers.
“Yes.”
“Why did you leave?”
I opened my mouth to tell her it was complicated. After all, that was the answer I had given Helen and everyone else. Then, I remembered the vow I had made to myself. I was going to fight. For me and for Easton. For our relationship and the chance to have a real family. So, I answered her honestly, “I was scared.”
“And now?”
I half-laughed. “I’m terrified.”
Caroline scooped some more frosting out of the bowl, heaping it onto the top of the cake. She replaced the bowl on the counter and began smoothing the chocolate to the edge and then down the sides. “Do you love my son?”
Her bluntness caught me off guard. After a few quiet seconds, I spoke, “I never stopped.”
“Never stopped what?” Easton asked as he entered the kitchen along with his dad.
“Nothing,” Caroline chimed in and then winked at me. “Just some girl talk.”
“Molly, it’s good to see you.” Brent, Easton’s father, put his arm around me in a side hug.
“You, too,” I told him.
Brent walked over to stand next to Caroline.
Just then, the front door opened, and the rest of Easton’s family spilled inside.
“Little man, slow down,” Saylor called after her son.
“Uncle East!”
Easton turned around in time to scoop his nephew into his arms. “Hey, buddy. What’s up?” He shifted Knox to his hip and made a fist. “Give me some.”
The little boy pounded his knuckles with Easton’s. Then, the two of them made explosion sounds. The sight made my heart melt.
Saylor, Jase, and Easton’s grandma filed into the kitchen.
“Jase, Saylor, you remember Molly.”
Jase shook my hand. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” I glanced at Easton’s sister. “Hey, Saylor. How are you?” I carefully stepped down from the barstool and stood.
“Molly.” Her greeting was curt. “I’m well. Thank you for asking.”
Easton sat Knox down on the counter and glared at his sister. “Molly, you remember Gram.”
“Of course.” My stomach was in knots, but I forced a smile.
The elderly woman closed the distance between us. “Hello, Molly.” Without asking, she placed her hands on my belly. “Do you know what you’re having?”
Easton and I shared a look.
“No, ma’am. I didn’t find out.”
“Well, we’ll just have to do the pencil test.” She pulled me into a hug.
I had no idea what the pencil test was; however, I assumed it was only a matter of time before I found out.
Gram let me go and said, “It’s so nice to have you back. You are back, aren’t you? A child needs a family.”
Her words pierced my heart. Nobody knew that more than me.
“Mom, how about we give Molly some breathing room?” Caroline suggested.
“Knox, what’re you doing, buddy?” Jase snickered.
Everyone had been too busy watching the exchange between me and Gram to pay attention to Knox,
who had decided to help himself to the leftover frosting.
He had chocolate smeared all over his olive-toned cheeks. “Gigi, this is berry good.” He held up the spatula toward Jase. “You have some, Jase? I can share.”
Laughter filled the room, breaking the building tension and shifting the focus off me.
I took the opportunity to slink to the bathroom.
Since I’d been to Easton’s parents’ house in the past, I had no trouble finding my way. Once inside the bathroom, I closed the door and leaned against it. Deciding to fight for Easton, to fight for us and the chance to have a family … God, it had seemed so easy when I was sitting in my living room in Atlanta. When I wasn’t surrounded by his family and the reminder that I didn’t know how to be part of one.
I blew out a hard breath, used the bathroom, and then turned on the faucet to wash my hands, catching sight of my flushed face in the mirror. I cupped my hands, captured water in my palms, and leaned down, splashing my face. Blindly, I reached for the soft hand towel on the edge of the sink and patted my face dry. I stared at my reflection zeroing in on my pregnant stomach and the reminder of why I was here. Why I was trying so hard and why I had to stop running.
With one more deep inhale, I reached for the knob, opened the bathroom door, and returned to the kitchen.
For the next two hours, the Chadwick home was filled with food, family, laughter, and celebration. Caroline brought out Easton’s baby book despite his protests. Easton’s entire childhood filled the pages. Him as an infant sleeping in his father’s arms, a toddler playing in the bath, and a little boy in a T-ball uniform. With the flip of every page, I watched him grow up. In one picture, he watched as Saylor took her first steps. In another, Easton held on to the seat of his little sister’s bike while she pedaled. Caroline must’ve been taking the picture because Brent stood off to the side as if he were ready to step in at any second if one of his children faltered.
I smiled as I listened to stories from his childhood, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like to grow up the way that Saylor and Easton had. To have parents who had cataloged all my firsts as if I’d discovered electricity or achieved world peace. I’d have given anything for my parents to record my juvenile antics with humor, for them to have cared enough to celebrate my successes and encourage my dreams. I would have gladly settled for my most basic needs to be met. I wanted my child to have the love that I didn’t, and if there was something the Chadwicks had plenty of, it was love.
After the photo albums were put away and embarrassing amounts of cake were consumed, Saylor and I offered to clean the kitchen since Caroline had cooked.
We stood side by side at the kitchen sink, just the two of us.
I rinsed a plate and passed it to her so she could put it in the dishwasher.
Saylor took it from my hand, and I reached into the sudsy, warm water for another.
“I wanted to claw your eyes out, you know.”
Her confession nearly had the dish slipping from my grasp.
“Excuse me?”
“Relax,” she said, drying her hands on the dish towel. “It’s not like I still want to. Not really.” The smile on her face hinted that she was teasing.
“Well, that’s good to know,” I joked. “What changed your mind?”
“Aside from the fact that you’re carrying my niece or nephew?”
“Yes, aside from that.”
“Easy. You love my brother.”
I didn’t say anything. I just waited for her to continue.
“I see it in the way you look at him, but what I can’t figure out is why you walked away.”
I passed her the last of the plates and drained the water while trying to think of an explanation even though I didn’t owe her one. “I didn’t grow up like you and your brother.”
Saylor aligned the dish with the others. Glasses clanged together as she reached for them off the counter and loaded them into the top rack of the dishwasher. “Easton once mentioned that your parents had passed away. I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you.”
The lie had always been so easy to tell, but hearing her apologize for it made me sick.
Saylor added detergent to the dishwasher, closed the lid, and started the machine. She grabbed a bottle of water for each of us from the fridge and then angled her head to look at me. “Let’s go sit on the back porch. We can chat out there.”
I dried my hands, took one of the waters from her, and followed her outside, shutting the door behind me. She sat in one of the patio chairs, and I sat beside her.
“I know we don’t know each other that well,” Saylor began. “I guess we really never had the chance.”
“No, we didn’t.”
She had been living in Charlotte when I started dating Easton, and not too long afterward, her husband had died.
“My brother … he’s one of the best men I know. He’s smart, funny, genuine, and kind. East is my hero. I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through the last several months without him.” Her eyes met mine. “Let’s keep that between us girls. As much as I love my big brother, there wouldn’t be enough space in the world for him and his ego,” she joked, and we both laughed. “When he loves someone, he loves with his whole heart, and I realize just because the two of you are having a baby, it doesn’t mean that you’re together. I just want him to be happy. He deserves that. You both do.”
Happy.
In all my twenty-four years, aside from the time when Easton and I’d first started dating, I didn’t know if I’d ever been truly happy.
I’d spent most of my life trying to survive from one minute to the next. Biding my time until I aged out of the system. While most teenage girls were consumed with having the trendiest clothes, I wished for ones that weren’t threadbare. While they fell in love with a different boy every other week, I fell between the tattered pages of a book and ended up head over heels in love with the baker’s son from District 12.
Books and numbers were my saving grace. No matter where I was or how bad things got, I knew nine groups of eight would always be seventy-two. I couldn’t count on people, but numbers never failed me, and books transported me. I found solace in that.
So many kids, especially ones who never found a forever home, slipped through the cracks. Turning to drugs or turning tricks and blowing off school. I was lucky. There was a fire in my belly and sheer determination in my veins. I’d focused on my education, so I could have a better life.
Maybe I was emotionally stunted. Maybe I had no idea what it felt like to be truly happy, but I hoped I would get there.
“Do you have any guesses on the baby’s gender?” Saylor’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. She sat back in her chair, twisted off the cap of the bottle of water, and took a drink.
I did the same. After a long pull of the cool liquid, I answered, “I know there’s something about the heart rate or the way you carry, but I have no idea.” I glanced at her. “I’m clueless about everything when it comes to pregnancy and babies. I don’t know anything, except for what I’ve read in all those baby books, and if I’m being honest, I’ve found most of it damn near terrifying.”
“Oh my God. No kidding. I remember worrying over everything. I read an article and obsessed over stuff I hadn’t even known I needed to be worried about. I drove Colin nuts.” She laughed.
Then, she stopped.
Saylor’s breath caught. Her blue eyes, the same shade as Easton’s, turned glassy.
I watched the wave of grief crash over her. Pain so visceral that it took on a presence of its own.
As if drawn by some unseen force, I silently reached over, clasped her hand, and gave it a squeeze. My heart hurt so much for her. But in that moment, I understood something.
Saylor was a survivor. She’d experienced devastating loss, and she was still standing. She’d been through hell, and day by day, she kept putting one foot in front of the other. She’d decided not to let grief swallow
her whole.
Saylor returned the gentle squeeze and then let go. “Sometimes, the grief comes out of nowhere. As time passes, it morphs a bit. Most days, especially recently, it’s a dull ache. Other times, the intensity of it catches me off guard.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“You and Jase … you love him.”
Her entire face lit up at the mention of his name. “I do.”
“You still love Colin, too.”
“I do.” Her smile turned sad at the mention of his name. “I always will. Just because I’ve fallen in love with Jase doesn’t diminish the love I have for Colin, and just because I love Colin doesn’t mean I can’t love Jase. It’s hard to explain, but it isn’t an either-or sort of thing. It took me a while to figure that out.”
“How are you able to open your heart after you lost so much?” I asked softly.
“For days after Colin died, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to breathe again. If it hadn’t been for Knox, I’m not sure I would have made it, but there I was, months later, my lungs still filling with air. I went on breathing even though it felt like I was dying inside. Then, one day, I realized …”
My expectant gaze met her eyes.
“I was alive, but I wasn’t living.” She toyed with the wedding band dangling from the chain around her neck. “Colin died. I didn’t. Squandering my life away by grieving wasn’t something he would’ve wanted. It certainly didn’t honor him, and it would have broken his heart.”
“Aren’t you scared of falling in love and having it all ripped away again?”
“Well, I already fell.” She laughed. The sound of it soft and melodic. “I was afraid. I still am, but I’m more afraid of not living. Letting someone in … letting them love you and loving them in return is scary. But not opening your heart just because you’re afraid is such a waste. If you allow yourself to be ruled by fear, it becomes your master.”
It was almost as if Saylor saw inside me. Her powerful words wove into the depths of my being, around the scars I’d been hiding my entire life.
A comfortable silence fell between us, and for several minutes, we listened to the wind rustle through the trees.
