by Nikky Kaye
A few months ago, people called me a robot. Okay, more like an asshole, but the point was that I didn’t always play well with others. My patience was limited, and so was my capacity for sympathy.
“How could you be so careless?” What about taking over the world?
The look on her face made me want to take back my words, and if Madeline had been there she would have thumped me.
Oh, shit, Madeline!
A quick look at my phone confirmed that she’d left a couple of text messages and one voice mail at around midnight. My fingers tightened on the phone as I itched to call her back and hear her voice, but at five in the morning, I didn’t think it was the best idea.
Instead, I hovered over a text box, but couldn’t figure out what to say. In the end, I settled for “I’m okay. Will call you later.”
Straightening up didn’t help my aching back, and I stretched my neck by methodically bending my head from side to side. I shoved the phone back in my pocket, then looked up to see my sister’s face wet with tears. Fuck.
“Shit, I’m sorry.” I moved stiffly to her side and patted the lump of her leg under the hospital blanket.
Her shoulders shook as she tried to cry as quietly as possible, presumably so she didn’t wake up Aaron. If anything her attempt to stifle it made it worse, but at least her face was showing some color now.
“I’m such an i-i-idiot,” she whispered harshly in between sobs.
If I’d felt bad for my thoughtless words, it was nothing compared to how shitty I felt for internally agreeing with her. But she’d made so many mistakes in her life—avoidable, dumb mistakes. Bad decisions leading to bad outcomes. She lived her life like she was playing Minecraft in survival mode—just digging holes and building walls and waiting for random animals to wander through and screw up her environment.
“No, you’re not,” I said haltingly as she sniffled. She raised her swollen, watery gaze to me and burst into tears again.
Aaron groaned as he shifted in his chair. We both stilled and looked over at him. Part of me wanted him to wake up so he could comfort her—which surely he could do better than I could. Another part of me wanted to punch him in the face for putting everyone in this situation, but I knew it wasn’t really his fault.
Too many emotions had built up in me—anxiety, irritation, jealousy, helplessness. By midnight, I felt like a pressure cooker and it only took the tears of my mother to blow my valve.
“I should have known,” Bobbie castigated herself in a low voice. “I should have known I was pregnant.” She looked up at me with wide eyes. “But I swear I didn’t. My periods are always so irregu—”
I held up a hand to stop her, not needing that much information. “It’s okay.”
“It’s probably best that this—” She broke off, her voice quavering. “I can’t take care of a baby! I can barely take care of myself.”
I couldn’t argue with that, mostly. “But you’ve been trying really hard,” I reminded her. She’d shown a lot of professionalism and initiative at the resort. And she seemed, well, happy. In her element, with more confidence and self-awareness than I’d seen in her in years. “I’m actually pretty proud of you,” I told her gruffly.
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. I’d probably never said those words to her before, or if I had, the last time had been when she graduated high school. “Really?” She sniffled again, and I reached for the scrap of paper they called tissues there.
“Yeah. You’ve been doing okay.”
She seemed far too pleased with my damnation with faint praise, which made me feel like even more of a jerk. In between blowing her nose, she asked where our mother was. I’d sent her home to get some sleep about an hour before. I’d told Aaron to do the same, but he flatly refused.
“Is he good to you?” I asked her.
Bobbie nodded. “He’s better than I deserve. I’m such a screw-up.”
“Stop it. You’re not. Okay, maybe you haven’t always made the best decisions, but you’re changing things now, right? Give yourself a break—literally. Sleep. Let yourself heal.” I patted her leg again. “Then you can get back to work and accomplish something, right? Get back on that horse, so to speak.”
She gave me another nod, her chin scrunched tight and her lips pressed together in a thin line.
Just then, a woman peeked through a crack in the door, spotted us, then opened the door to push through a monitor on a cart.
“Miss Gage?” Her smile was much too bright for someone at work at dawn. “I’m here to do an ultrasound. Are you ready to take a look at your baby?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
GAGE
I got home later that morning, feeling numb and cold. After peeling off all my clothes and standing under a hot, cleansing shower for what seemed like hours, I fell into bed for what ended up being the whole day.
Then I fell into a funk for all of Sunday. Bobbie was still pregnant, and I didn’t know what to do. The fact that there was nothing for me to do about it didn’t totally register.
I’d had the decency to leave the room while Bobbie and Aaron stared at the ultrasound screen in shock, but the acrid coffee I found didn’t wake me from the surreal dream. If Bobbie wasn’t ready to be a mother, then I wasn’t ready for her to be a mother. I was terrified that she would change her mind, like she had about boyfriends and jobs, and I would be stuck bailing her out—only this time with a helpless little baby.
Nightmare scenarios kept going through my head. Bobbie and Aaron dying in a car crash and me having to take the baby, since my mother would probably be too scattered to deal with it. Aaron bringing the baby to the office in a carrier on his chest, ridiculously proud, yet unproductive. Madeline swaying the baby in her arms to soothe it—okay, that last one wasn’t a total nightmare, but it was still weird to me.
Needing distraction from my thoughts, I retreated to my playroom. I was about to beat my own high score in Mortal Kombat on Sunday evening when my doorbell rang. Needless to say, I pooched the game and was in a foul mood when I stomped down the stairs.
When I opened the door to Madeline, I was speechless. Just the sight of her windswept hair and rosy cheeks blunted some of the fury and fear I felt. She worried her bottom lip with relentlessly, and I stood there like a statue until she had to ask if she could come in.
“Yeah. Oh yeah, of course.” I snapped to attention and stepped back so she could enter. Then I crossed the cold floor of the foyer in my bare feet and sat on the second rise of the oak stairs.
She stared at me, not making a move to take off her shoes or coat. Okaaaay, I thought. If she didn’t want to stay, that was probably best, since I was in a precarious mood.
“How are you?”
“Fine,” I answered automatically. “How are you?”
“Uh, I thought you’d call me back.”
“Sorry. I got… caught up.” I put my head in my hands, combing my fingers through my hair. Had I showered today?
“How’s Bobbie?”
“I’m not sure,” I said slowly.
“Where is she now?”
“At Aaron’s.”
With a sigh, she sat down on the step beside me. The warmth of her palm bled through my T-shirt when she gingerly placed her hand on my back. It permeated through to my heart like she was holding it in fist.
“What happened?”
“She was—is—pregnant.”
She began to nod then cocked her head. “I wondered if maybe she had a miscarriage?”
I snorted. “That’s what I thought.”
Madeline recoiled a little at the disdain in my voice. I cringed myself when I heard it, but couldn’t seem to stop it from spilling out of my mouth. It was like I was projectile vomiting all my shitty emotions.
“What do you mean?”
“It looked worse than it was. They said something about breakthrough bleeding; I wasn’t in the room when the doctor was there. But apparently she’s still pregnant.”
Her hand moved
off my back. “And that’s a problem?”
“I just don’t know.” I raised my head to meet her curious gaze then averted my eyes. “I hate to say this about my own sister, but I’m not sure if she should have kids.”
She gasped. “Why would you say that? My god, that’s pretty cold, Gage.” Silence stretched between us despite how close we were sitting. “What is she going to do?” she finally asked.
“I don’t know. It’s her decision, I guess. And Aaron’s, if she wants to include him.” I shrugged, but I truly hoped that she would involve Aaron. He didn’t deserve to be left out of it, even if I preferred he wasn’t in it in the first place.
“But you have an opinion.” It was a statement, not a question.
“She hasn’t had the greatest track record with her decisions. But it’s her body,” I said. “Her life. I just don’t want her to ruin someone else’s.”
She eyed me so closely that I felt like getting up and walking away. Hell, I was already uncomfortable. “You don’t want her to ruin your life,” she said flatly.
“I never said that.”
Madeline was quiet for a moment. “There are options, Gage. I was adopted, remember?”
“Yeah, eventually! You really think that those, what—ten years in foster care were the best of your life?”
She gasped and jumped to her feet as though I’d just slapped her. “What?”
Shit. I couldn’t say or do anything right. “I mean, weren’t you unhappy, Maddie? Would you honestly want that for another kid?”
“I can’t say that I would recommend it, but are you saying that you think it would be better if I were dead? Or to be with a neglectful or even abusive parent?”
“No, of course not!” I shouted, tugging at my hair again in frustration. “Fuck! I just hate everything about this goddamn situation.”
“Because you can’t control it.”
I grimaced at the truth that was so obvious to both of us.
“I hate to break it to you, Mister ‘No Excuses’—” She raised her fingers in air quotes as she rolled her eyes at me. “But there are things in life beyond your control. And I think Bobbie deserves your support, no matter what.”
“Why, just because she’s my sister?”
“Some people don’t get to have a family,” she said pointedly. “You’re lucky.”
“You have a family—the parents who adopted you, right?”
“Sure, but every day I have to live with the fact that my mother didn’t want to come back to me, didn’t want me.”
“And you also have two people who did choose you.”
She opened her mouth to respond then closed it again.
“I thought you of all people would be on my side, Maddie. You hate commitment,” I scoffed. “You want to quit everything.”
With an angry huff, she stalked across the foyer to where her computer bag was resting against the wall. After she yanked it up and slung it over her shoulder, she whirled back on me with shiny eyes and a tight mouth. “You don’t get to have a side on this. And I was trying to change. I didn’t want to quit you.”
Something unspoken hovered in the air between us. A snort escaped me. “Don’t change for me.”
“Oh, don’t worry—I won’t.”
Her voice was sad and angry at the same time, much like mine probably was with Bobbie. I’d really fucked this up now. Of all the things that I could control right at that moment, the number one priority should have been my own mouth.
“Madel—”
“I just stopped by to get my laptop,” she interrupted. “I’m sorry to bother you.” She looked over at me, then up the stairs. Her face softened a little. “Thank you for showing me your house the other night. It was—it’s really, um… amazing.” She reddened a little, maybe at the memory of what happened the other night.
With my knees cracking from fatigue, I rose from the stairs and reached for her, but she neatly sidestepped me. I wanted so badly to take her in my arms, to kiss her until we were both dizzy and our brains foggy.
“Maddie, I’m so—”
“Gage, what do you want from me? I’m trying. Bobbie’s trying.” She sounded like she was about to cry. If Bobbie’s tears had dented me, then Madeline’s had the power to break through me like a bullet leaving a ragged hole behind in my chest.
“Shit. I’m an asshole.”
She nodded, the glassiness in her eyes finally breaking. Maybe she couldn’t see me properly through her tears, but she didn’t evade when I approached her. When I tugged her against me, her fist came up to drum on my sternum. A shiver went through me as her palm splayed out and her fingers touched my skin above the collar of my worn t-shirt.
“You’re an asshole, Gage,” she said shakily, staring at my chest as my arms went around her.
“I know.”
“You want everyone around you to commit,” she spit out. “To go whole hog with no regrets, no hesitation, no do-overs. Some people can do that. Some people can’t. I don’t know, maybe there’s something to be said for looking before you leap.”
She leaned forward and wiped her eyes on my shirt. I didn’t really mind. At least she didn’t blow her nose on me.
“I guess.”
“But now,” she continued, “when your sister is thinking about truly committing to something in the biggest way you can commit to something, you’re condemning her for it. Isn’t that a little hypocritical?”
Maybe it was. It probably was. My body sagged a little as she leaned her forehead against me. Her breath was hot through the thin cotton of my t-shirt. She sniffled once, twice, her back shuddering with a heavy sigh.
“I’m sorry,” I said hoarsely.
Needing to see those cinnamon eyes, even if they were red and puffy, I tilted her chin up. Her expression was sad but defiant. I grudgingly had to admire the way she called me on my bullshit, even if I didn’t agree.
I could see that I’d hurt her—really hurt her. What twisted in my gut worse than the fact that she was probably right was that she doubted me, and maybe even mistrusted me. My throat felt like it was squeezing shut.
“I’m scared,” I admitted. Everything was spinning away from me and I couldn’t grab it.
“I know.”
Without another word, she stretched up and kissed me softly—and with more compassion than I’d earned. Her lips were swollen from her biting it and salty with tears, but they bound me tighter than any rope ever had.
God, I was falling for her. The realization startled me.
Even before the retreat, I’d sneered at the idea of trust exercises. Honestly, I’d joked with Aaron that if anyone thought I was falling backwards and trusting my staff would catch me, they clearly had never worked at my level. Now I was falling backwards and I wanted—maybe even needed—her to catch me.
And I’d just given her a bunch of excuses to jerk her hands back.
She kissed me again lightly. The casual brush of her lips, like an afterthought of pity, stabbed me. I tried to tighten my hold on her waist, but she drifted away.
“I think you need some time alone,” she said flatly, turning to open the door. I wanted to scream at her “No! I’ve had enough time alone! I need you!” but it got stuck in my throat. She was running away, just like I’d feared. Just like I’d predicted she would. I had to be honest with her.
“I’ll see you at work tomorrow, sir.”
“Madeline, I can’t help thinking. It keeps going through my head on a loop, like a song you can’t get rid of.”
“What?” She wearily hitched the bag higher on her shoulder, looking like it weighed a hundred pounds.
“The baby. What would you do if it was you?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
MADDIE
What would I do if I got pregnant? It was a good question, and it plagued me all night. I’d always been obsessively careful, terrified at the thought of being responsible for another human. It was more than a little ironic that I was cheerleading Bobbie when
I didn’t think I could handle it myself. To be honest, that was probably why most of my sexual experience was primarily with my vibrator.
When I woke up for work the next morning, I felt like I’d barely slept at all. It took a lot more makeup than usual to cover the dark circles under my eyes, and the freckles on my nose stuck out like a connect-the-dot picture against my pale face.
“Don’t you want breakfast?” my mother asked as I zipped up some knee-high boots. My wool plaid skirt twirled around my calves, the green in it matching my blouse. I looked in the mirror by the front door, and was happy to note that I looked way more put together than I felt.
“No, it’s okay. I’m not really hungry.”
She leaned against the archway to the kitchen, her concern radiating so strongly I was afraid it would burn me. I was lucky that she worried about me—but like I’d told Gage the night before it didn’t erase the fact that my biological mother had essentially thrown me away.
“What’s going on, Maddie? Did you, um, find your birth mom? Is that why you’re upset? You can tell me, you know.” Unable to look me in the eyes suddenly, she turned back into the kitchen and started fussing with putting away the breakfast food she’d gotten out for me.
I sighed and walked back into the kitchen, the heels of my boots clacking on the tile.
Cereal boxes back in the cupboard, milk back in the fridge. She tidied up methodically and efficiently, like she’d done for the last ten years I’d known her. I knew she had to get ready for work soon herself; she was lingering just for me.
“I know I haven’t always been supportive of your desire to find her,” she said as she faced the fridge. “But I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“It’s not that. I mean, I appreciate it, but that’s not why I’m upset.”
Her posture eased a little as she turned back to me. “Oh.”
“A friend of mine is pregnant and she doesn’t know what to do,” I explained.
