by Portia Moore
“It was great,” I tell her. “We got to see the ultrasound and everything. My brother has gotten me into a very nice clinic with a really good doctor.”
Carolyn beams at me. “A good doctor makes all the difference,” she tells me, clearly overjoyed that things are going well, but when I glance over at Katy, her face is expressionless and cold, almost sullen. I can’t blame her exactly, but I wish I knew why she’s still so upset with me—whether it’s because of what happened with Blue or because of everything with Kam, when I blacked out and what’s happened since then.
“So, how is your condition going to affect the pregnancy?” Katy blurts out, and the room goes entirely still for a moment. I’m frozen in place for a second, speechless, and Carolyn looks horrified that her daughter asked the question at all.
“That’s not an appropriate question right now, Katy,” she scolds.
I know it’s the question on the tip of everyone’s tongues, though, and that regardless of her manners, Carolyn must be wondering it too. Kam’s dad and anyone else aware of the situation would wonder the same thing.
“I have a great specialist,” I say quietly, looking at Katy. “She’s taking good care of me, and she’s going to monitor me throughout the pregnancy to make sure that everything goes well.”
“That’s wonderful to hear,” Carolyn says. I can hear the relief in her voice, but I can tell Katy isn’t going to be so easily dissuaded.
“Has this specialist ever treated someone with your condition before who was also pregnant?” she challenges, and I flush, realizing that Katy isn’t going to let up about this at all, regardless of how much anyone could tell that Carolyn wants her to, so we can go back to the fun and exciting part of the baby conversation. It’s clear that while my apology and declaration of love for Kam might have softened his parents, it hasn’t thawed Katy at all. I wonder if she’d be brave enough to ask these same questions with Kam in the room, or if she’s taking the opportunity while she’s got me away from him.
“Megan, you don’t have to answer anything you’re uncomfortable with,” Carolyn says gently, but I can see the curious glint in her eye. Of course she’s curious. I have a rare mental disorder, and I’m marrying her son and carrying her grandchild.
I take in a small breath, looking between the two of them. “As you know,” I say softly, “my condition is extremely rare. My doctor is one of the best in her field, and she doesn’t have any concerns about it negatively affecting the pregnancy.” It’s mostly true, I console myself. I’m not really lying to them. My disorder won’t actually affect the health of my pregnancy at all, it’s my own mental health that Alana poses a threat to, but could, in turn, affect the baby.
To my surprise, Carolyn reaches over and puts her hand comfortingly over mine. “We’ll be here for you to provide whatever you need,” she says reassuringly. “You’re family now.”
Katy says nothing, but her face is completely unreadable.
Kam and his father walk in then, bringing the conversation to a screeching halt. Kam sits down next to me as Robert joins his wife. Kam kisses me lightly on the forehead, smiling at me. “What did I miss?” he asks teasingly. I can’t help but smile back.
“Baby pictures,” I tell him, and I glance over at Katy as I say it, who meets my eyes but says nothing.
“So, how are you fitting in with the Crestfields?” Robert asks me, ignoring the warning look that Kam shoots him. I don’t mind, though—anything is better than talking about my condition and how it might affect the baby.
“I’m very grateful to have found my family,” I say simply, and he grins.
“A very upstanding family,” he adds, and I flush pink, not quite knowing what to say to that.
“So what are the wedding plans now that you’re pregnant?” Carolyn cuts in.
I glance over at Kam. “I’d like to be married before the baby is born,” I say softly, and he nods his agreement.
“Something small,” Kam says. “No frills, really. But don’t worry Mom, after the baby is born we want a traditional wedding, one that you can go wild and indulge yourself with.”
Carolyn beams at him, but Katy stands up and excuses herself abruptly, and I can feel tension fill the room as she sweeps out of it without another word.
Kam stands up as if to go after her, but I grab his hand. “I’ll go talk to her,” I say, and for a second he looks as if he’s going to protest, but I squeeze his hand a little more tightly, giving him a reassuring smile. “It’s fine,” I tell him, and he relaxes a fraction, sitting back down.
I find Katy out in the gazebo in the backyard, sitting down with a glass of wine in her hand. I approach her hesitantly, sitting down next to her, but she doesn’t say anything as I sit, just looks away.
“I understand why you’re probably upset with me,” I say quietly. “I don’t know what you think might have happened between me and Blue, but I promise we’re just friends. It’s nothing like that.”
Katy scoffs, shaking her head as she finally looks over at me. “I’m not upset with you about Blue,” she says dryly, but her tone softens a little as she continues. “I know what happened between him, and I was at fault. I know Blue wouldn’t have cheated on me.” She takes a sip of her wine. “I’m worried about my brother, Megan. I love him, not just as a brother but as my best friend, and I’m terrified that all of this could go wrong for him. I know what it’s like to have a broken heart, and I don’t want my brother hurt.” She looks at me sharply, her expression almost angry. “Kam was devastated when you left, Megan. And it sounds to me like, with this condition that you have, there’s not a damn thing you can do to keep that from happening to him again. And now you’re getting married and having a baby?” She shakes her head in disgust. “This doesn’t make me less worried, it makes me a hell of a lot more afraid for him.”
She turns to face me fully then, the glass of wine in her hand forgotten. “What happens if your alter ego comes back, Megan?” she demands. “Huh? What happens then? What’s to stop her from running off with my brother’s child, and doing whatever damn thing she wants and not you or me or Kameron or either of our families can do anything about it?”
I’m completely speechless, staring at her with my face gone white and my blood running cold. She’s right, I know she’s right, but what am I supposed to do about that?
“That’s why I’m not thrilled,” Katy says flatly. “I’m going to do my best not to make things harder for either of you, or any of us. But,” she continues, glaring at me, “I think if you really loved my brother the way you say you do, you would have let him go before all of this happened.” As the last words come out of her mouth, she stands up, giving me one final, angry look before stalking away, leaving me sitting there completely stunned.
Tears flood my eyes, but not before I hear Alana’s voice slice through my head. She’s right, you know. You’re a bitch, a selfish fucking bitch, and you always were!
And then I see Kam coming down the back steps. I sit up straight, wiping the tears out of my eyes just in time, and pasting a smile on my face as he walks into the gazebo. “What were you and Katy talking about?” he asks curiously. I just shrug, standing up to meet him.
“We were just talking about Blue,” I tell him, and he frowns a little, but leans down to give me a quick kiss. “Are you ready to go?” he asks, and I nod.
“Yeah, let’s go home,” I tell him softly, and he smiles.
I have to make this work, I think, determination rising up in me as I get into the car and reach for my phone. I can’t hurt Kam again. I have to make this work for both of us. Before I can change my mind, I text Helen and tell her that I don’t need the paternity test. I’ve made up my mind, Kam is going to be the father of my child. Blood or not, like my husband, he would be anyway, and that’s what I want. I want to marry him. I want a family with him. I want the life that we planned together.
Nothing else—and no one else—matters.
15
Ian
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I shake my head as I walk down the steps of my apartment and wave to Hillary, who is sitting in her car waiting for me. She greets me excitedly like always, and I can’t help but chuckle—I’ve somehow been roped into going to dinner at Lauren and Cal’s house in the suburbs. Lauren did the inviting, but Hillary did the convincing, talking me into dinner and coming over to see the babies that everyone now likes to joke that I “almost delivered.”
I tried to turn them down, of course. I’m not really in much of a mood to socialize, but Lauren wouldn’t hear of it. And since I don’t have much of a life these days, I don’t have any excuse for something better to do.
While we drive, I glance over at Hillary, grinning playfully at her. “So…how was your night?” I ask, and she blushes a furious shade of red, which tells me all I need to know, really. She smiles back, clearly on cloud nine. “Your cousin is pretty awesome,” she says, still blushing.
“I’m glad to hear that,” I tell her, and I mean it. Blue’s been pretty tight-lipped about the whole thing, despite his obvious crush on Hillary the other day. I think he’s trying to avoid rubbing his romantic success in my face by accident. But I’m happy for both of them. Just because my love life crashed and burned doesn’t mean that I want everyone’s to.
“It’s not weird or anything, right? That I’m dating your cousin?” She bites her lip and looks over at me with some worry on her face, and I can’t help but laugh.
“No, not at all,” I assure her, and she lets out a relieved breath.
“I’m glad you’re coming tonight,” she tells me. “Lauren didn’t know at first if you’d want to be reminded of babies”—she says this bluntly, in the way that I’ve gotten used to Hillary talking about things—“but I convinced her that babies remind people of fresh starts, and if anyone can use one of those, it’s you,” she declares.
Flashes of Megan pregnant invade my thoughts—Megan rubbing her stomach, talking quietly to it, Megan lying in a bath with bubbles heaped around her belly, Megan holding a baby in her arms—but I push them away quickly, not wanting the stubborn ache in my chest that comes with thinking about Megan.
I haven’t been to Lauren and Cal’s home out here before, and it’s huge, as to be expected, but more homey and warm than I would have pegged any residence that Cal lived in to be. Despite its size and modern architecture, it’s full of plush carpet, soft textiles, and a warm color palette that makes me feel instantly comfortable and at home. Entirely Lauren’s influence, I’m sure.
The second we’re in the door two little girls come running up to us, one about six or seven with dark brown hair and the brightest smile I’ve ever seen and the other older, maybe ten or eleven with blonde hair and bright blue eyes that immediately rushes to Hillary and gives her a huge hug.
“This is Caylen,” Hillary says, indicating the dark-haired girl, “and Willa.” It’s clear that Caylen is Cal and Lauren’s older daughter; the mixture of their features is obvious. As I glance curiously at the other girl, Hillary adds, “Willa is their niece.”
“Who are you?” both girls demand in unison, and I can’t help but smile at them. “I’m your aunt Hillary and Lauren’s friend,” I explain.
“Do you want to be our prince?” Caylen asks.
Willa adds, “We need one for our game.”
“Mm, I don’t think I’m much of the prince type,” I tell them. “More of a knight, I think.”
“You’re handsome like a prince,” Willa says shyly, and I burst into laughter at the dry look Hillary gives me.
A pretty older woman hurries into the room, breathless, her red hair piled up on top of her head. “I’m sorry for them bombarding you,” she says, and I smile. “Not at all,” I tell her, as Hillary introduces her as Cal’s mother, Gwen.
“This is Ian,” Hillary explains. “He’s Lauren’s friend and one of the artists at the gallery.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Gwen says. “Come on girls, let’s go back in the other room and pick up our toys. You’ll find Lauren in the family room,” she tells us, before shooing both of the little girls back out of the room to their dismay.
It’s impossible not to feel the joy and warmth of the house. A family lives here, a real family, with kids and in-laws and bustling, happy energy. It leaves me with a vague sort of pain in my chest as we walk into the room and see Lauren stretched out on the large sectional in front of the television, one tiny baby tucked into her arm and the other in the bassinet, sleeping.
Hillary squeals immediately, hurrying towards her. “Give me my goddaughter!” she exclaims, and Lauren grins, handing the baby over happily and then turning that same smile on me as she sees me.
She gets up off of the couch slowly, walking over to me and giving me a warm hug. “Thanks for coming,” she tells me sincerely.
“Thanks for having me.” I glance over her shoulder at the two babies, the one now being coddled by Hillary and the other still miraculously sleeping. “What’d you wind up naming them?”
“The one sleeping is London,” she says, “and the one Hillary has is Paris.” She glances over at Hillary. “Can you keep an eye on them for a minute? I want to show Ian the house.”
“Of course! Go on,” Hillary says, waving a hand and shooing us away.
“Should you be walking around?” I ask with concern, and Lauren just laughs. “I’m fine,” she assures me. “How are you doing?”
“Better than expected,” I tell her honestly, and I smile at her. “You had a lot to do with it, to tell you the truth. Seeing you with the babies kind of reminded me that life doesn’t stop…it has to go on, regardless of whatever’s happening at the moment.”
“Well, I hope you’ve started to see me as a friend,” she says firmly. “Someone who can be there for you.”
“I definitely do.”
Lauren takes me on a tour of the house, slowly, ending up finally in the kitchen where Cal is. He greets me more warmly than I expected—I wasn’t sure how he’d feel about Lauren and I having a closer friendship, but if he’s upset, he isn’t showing it, outwardly at least. It’s clear that he’s happy, over the fucking moon about the babies. His joy is tangible and almost infectious. Lauren walks over and hugs him, giving him a soft, tender kiss, and I’m reminded of everything I wanted with Alana, everything that I hoped to have. It’s gone now, but I remind myself that I can still have it one day, even if it’s not with the woman I want more than anything in the world.
I enjoy myself more than I thought I would. The dinner is delicious, and as we all sit down around the table the girls remind me of my earlier “promise” to be their knight in shining armor, which results in Cal and I getting roped into playing a game of princesses and castles with them after dinner in the living room, while Lauren and Hillary and Gwen look on. They cheer us on teasingly from the sidelines as we “rescue” the princess from the “dragon” that’s living in the castle they’ve built out of blankets and brooms and boxes, and although I would have scoffed at the idea not long ago, I actually have fun. With Cal, no less.
I’m getting ready to meet Hillary at the door to leave when Cal suddenly appears, pulling me out the front door and onto the porch. “Have you talked to my sister?” he asks, his eyes narrowing. “Since Megan told you, I mean.”
“No,” I say flatly. “I haven’t.” I take in a deep breath, reminding myself that life is different now, that it doesn’t have to be hurt, pain, doom, and gloom. That it’s going to be better. There’s a possibility of it, at least. “I’m not going to make trouble for her anymore. I’m trying to make peace with what she wants, and that’s all.”
“What Megan wants.” Cal looks thoughtful. “What about Alana?”
I look at him with confusion, my old irritation with him rising to the surface. He’s given me shit for as long as I’ve known him, and it’s been plain from the start that he didn’t think I was good enough for his sister. Now he’s going to switch sides and start hinting that I shouldn’t just walk away?
> What the fuck, man?
“Your sister is engaged to and pregnant by another man,” I say sharply, keeping my voice low. “So it doesn’t really matter what Alana wants.”
Cal narrows his eyes at that, chuckling. “Is she?” is all he says, his tone sarcastic. I feel my temper rising dangerously. I’m more confused than ever.
“What are you two gossiping about?” Lauren asks playfully as she and Hillary walk out. Cal puts an arm around her waist, pulling her in and silencing any further inquiry with a kiss. I take that opportunity to slip away with Hillary, suddenly fucking ecstatic to be away from Cal. At least it’s a more familiar reaction to him. Knew it couldn’t last for long.
“What was that about?” Hillary asks curiously as we get into the car.
“No fucking clue,” I say shortly, shrugging. But I can’t get the question out of my head.
---
Is she? The thought won’t let up and haunts me all night and stays with me to the next morning. I can’t stop thinking about Cal laughing in my face and asking Is she? There’s something about the way he said it, his tone, his attitude, and I can’t stop turning it over and over in my head. What the fuck was that supposed to mean?
Was it just Cal fucking with me, the way he’s shown many times over that he enjoys tremendously? Does he mean is she really marrying this Kam dude, or is she really pregnant? Does he think she’s lying about it?
Why would Megan lie about something like that? She was so happy but more protective and fiercer than I’ve ever seen her, like a mother bear protecting her cub. I don’t think she’s lying. But I don’t know what Cal’s fucking deal is.
I show up at Blue’s door first thing in the morning, pounding on it, and he opens it looking more than shocked and confused. “Hey, what are you doing here?” he asks like he just woke up.
“I need to talk to you right now,” I tell him, pushing my way past him and inviting myself in.
