“You look beautiful,” Molly said. “Glowing.”
“Thank you.”
“How do you feel though? Honestly.”
“I feel… like I’m getting full.”
Molly nodded. “You’re about halfway there, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Still getting sick at all?”
“No.”
“That’s good. Feel the little guy or girl kicking?”
I smiled. “Yes.”
Molly’s eyes melted. “That’s so cute. I want one.”
I touched my belly. “Careful with that. It’s good to have a guy around, you know?”
“True,” Molly said. “I guess I’ll keep playing the field.”
“How big is that field you’re playing?” I asked with a grin.
“As far as the eyes can see,” Molly said. She put her hand up to her forehead and looked left to right before laughing.
“You’re too much,” I said.
“I know. Just wanted to check on you. I’m sending everyone home for the rest of the day. Half day. On me. Go relax.”
“What?”
“You heard me. We could all use a break.”
“Since when do you take a break?”
“Since when… I have plans.”
I rolled my eyes. “Right. Plans.”
“I want you out of here within the hour.”
When Molly left I touched my phone again. My other hand touched my stomach.
I shook my head.
I asked myself the same question over and over.
What was I thinking?
And I kept coming up with the same answer.
I don’t fucking have a clue.
I was trying to relax on the couch when someone knocked at my door. I groaned and pulled myself to my feet. It was already getting hard to do that and I couldn’t imagine what it would be like at the end of this. Nine months pregnant, trying to waddle around this apartment. I still had yet to address the apartment issue. It was big enough for me and a baby. I had the extra space. But to raise a baby here? Eventually I would need to move.
When I opened the door, Foster’s father stood there. He had a nice haircut with a scruffy beard thing going on. He looked as cleaned up as I had ever seen him in my life. His clothes weren’t hand-me-downs, full of stains, rips, and stretched out.
He lifted his right arm, showing off a bag.
“Dinner,” he said. “Have to make sure my grand baby is fed.”
I smiled. “Kevin.”
“Hey, you can’t say no to food. Not this food. This is good stuff. Top of the line fast food burgers, fries, some loaded nachos…”
“Wow,” I said. “You went all out for me?”
“Not you. The baby.” He winked. “Mind if I come in?”
I backed up.
The truth was, Kevin picked the worst times to stop over, but he always had the best of intentions. The second I told him I was pregnant, it was like a switch flipped. He was there for me, focused, caring, always offering to help out. I sort of felt bad that I kept his presence a secret from my father, but I needed to keep the drama as little as possible. Bad enough I was lying to almost everyone about Foster.
I said almost everyone because Kevin knew the truth. Of all people, I had confessed the truth to Foster’s father. To be fair, it had happened during a crazy hormonal five minute span where I couldn’t picture the rest of my life. I didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t want to be a single mother. I didn’t want…
“Let me get us some plates,” Kevin said.
He rushed to the cabinet. He always brought food. He always chatted me up. He was good company. What a weird world I lived in now.
Kevin put the plates down and his phone started to beep. He quickly snapped his fingers. “Mind if I use the bathroom?”
“Why would I mind?” I asked.
“I’ll be right back.”
Seeing Kevin sober was strange. He was more eccentric. Alive. Observant. I wasn’t sure I liked the new version of him, but it beat the old one who was in jail, hurting Foster. Although Foster wasn’t here, Kevin was… and he had made an effort to get to know Rhett. His life consisted of working, seeing Rhett, and seeing me.
I sat at the table and started to unpack the food.
Kevin returned with a little spinning dance move, whistling, snapping his fingers.
I looked at him. “Are you high?”
He froze. “What?”
“You’re jumpy.”
“I’m happy.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Rose, I’m not high. I could take any test in the world and pass it. No drugs. No booze. Nothing. Not even sugar. I’m trying to get a little healthier here too. Have to show my little guy how to toss a football.”
“Little guy,” I said. “What if it’s a girl?”
“Girls can throw footballs too.”
“Kevin, did you teach Foster how to throw a football?”
He frowned. He pulled a chair out and sat down. He put his food on his plate and shook his head. “No. I never taught either of my sons how to throw a football. I never taught Rhett anything useful. And Foster? He was good at running favors for me. In some way, this is a chance to… maybe start over.”
“With your grandchild?”
“Why not?” Kevin asked. He looked at me, his eyes glossy. “Maybe I can show Foster the man I could be. Then we can move forward. All of us.”
“That’s, uh, that’s something to say,” I said. “I mean, you’ve been doing great. Showing up here. You helped me to the doctors that one time. You tracked down Foster’s new number.”
“I wanted to give him a piece of my mind though,” Kevin said. “I can’t stomach my own son being like me.”
“He’s not that,” I said. I felt my cheeks turned red. “I mean…”
“No, it’s true. I’m a bad person, Rose. Believe me. There’s no hiding it.”
“Well, I don’t think that Foster is a bad person. You don’t quite know everything he went through during the times you were gone.”
“One house he was living at was pretty nice.”
“That was one house, Kevin.”
“Right,” he said. He waved his hands. “No more about the past and me. Can I bring up a question?”
“Sure.”
“You’ve talked to Foster plenty of times now, Rose. You haven’t mentioned you’re pregnant.”
My cheeks burned hotter.
Take your fucking food and leave, Kevin.
“No, I haven’t.”
“Why?”
“I just haven’t.”
“You’re pretty much halfway there, Rose. If Foster is the man you believe him to be, he’d want to be here for this.”
I swallowed hard. My appetite quickly ceased to exist. “Exactly.”
“Exactly what?”
“He’d want to be here.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“He’s finally doing what he wants. It finally got to the point where he took the chance. Everything built up enough and he went. I can’t pull him back from it.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “If I tell him, he’ll come back. He’s that kind of man. Good. Honest. Strong. But is that what he wants?”
“It’s what you and that baby want. And need.”
“I don’t want him to be forced to come back,” I said. “I know he’ll be back. He’s not going to live out there. Things between us have always been like this.”
“This isn’t some high school bullshit, Rose,” Kevin said. His voice was stern. A fatherly voice. “You know that, right?”
“I know that, Kevin,” I said. “I don’t need to be told right from wrong. Especially by you.”
He nodded. “Right. That’s what I’m doing. Seeing things the way they really are.”
“Which is what?”
“Which is my son is somewhere across the country without kno
wing the only woman he’s ever loved is pregnant with his baby. What do you expect will happen, Rose? He’ll just show up someday? Then what? You’ll be… eight months pregnant? What do you think he’ll feel? Or better yet, the baby is already born. And Foster missed it all. Huh?”
I swallowed hard. My heart started to race harder. Everything Kevin said was right, but I didn’t want to admit that. Not to him. No way.
I didn’t respond.
“You don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to call Foster.”
“I dare you,” I said, anger rising up in me. “You have no business here. No right. You did nothing for him. You’re the reason he’s gone right now. What happened when you were in jail. Never telling him about Rhett.”
Kevin slowly stood up. “Yeah. I have to face those demons each day. I’m sorry for this, Rose. I wanted to bring my grand baby something to eat. I wanted to talk to you. I didn’t mean to ask that question and have it turn into this. Here’s what I know. I have two sons. When Foster’s mother was pregnant, that was the most clear I had ever been in my life. Watching her belly grow. Watching this woman I loved carry my child. And I fucked it all up after Foster was born. With Rhett, I was never there. Not once. And that pain eats me alive every single day. It’s your body, Rose. It’s your pregnancy. But someone else was part of that. And he should know the truth.”
“Thanks for dinner,” I whispered. “I think I want to be alone now.”
“Sure,” Kevin said.
He reached for the empty bag and packed up his food. He left a lot more food than he needed to for me.
“Do you mind if I say goodbye?” he asked.
I stood up.
This was weird, but I appreciated it.
Kevin stood close but not too close. He didn’t touch me either. He just looked down at my belly.
“I love you, grand baby,” he whispered. “No matter what happens here, you just look for those who love you. Nothing else matters.”
Kevin looked up at me and nodded.
I held my ground and didn’t respond.
“I’ll talk to you soon, Rose,” he said.
“Right,” I said. “You know where to find me.”
“I’m going to use the bathroom one more time.”
That struck me as odd. I didn’t say a word though. I waited. A hand on my stomach. The life inside me.
I watched Foster’s father leave, leaving behind his food. On purpose, to make sure I had all the food I wanted for the baby.
I looked toward the bathroom and shook my head.
I had a terrible sinking feeling.
I stood in the bathroom and it looked normal. That’s how it was supposed to look though, right? My heart didn’t want to believe that Kevin could be up to something bad. My gut knew better though. Kevin had come into the bathroom two times in a short period of time. He was jumpy and jittery. More excited than usual. Not to mention pushing me to tell Foster the truth. Fine, that part was probably right. What did anyone think… that I didn’t think about everything Kevin had said? That I didn’t try to play it out in my head over and over? Imagining Foster showing up, wanting to see me, and my belly was super huge, ready to pop. Or even after the baby was born…
I shut my eyes and took a deep breath.
My hand slid along the smoothness of the bathroom sink. I opened the drawers one by one and nothing was out of place. The top drawer was a junk mess of toothpaste, floss, and mouthwash. The second drawer was a mess of brushes, stretched out hair ties, and all that. As I crouched, I opened the doors to the cabinet.
“Nothing,” I whispered.
I shut the doors and turned my head.
That’s when something caught my attention.
Behind the toilet.
Strangely enough, it was something clear that caught my eye. Something maybe I shouldn’t have seen, but whatever.
I inched across the floor and reached behind the toilet. I felt the bag and pulled. It resisted a little but I won the battle. I almost wished I hadn’t. In my hand was a large gallon sized bag. Inside that bag were smaller bags, filled with… stuff.
I hurried and put the bag on the sink and stood up.
“Drugs,” I whispered.
That’s what Foster’s father was doing here. Putting a stash of junk in my bathroom. Probably to hide it from the cops. Or from someone really bad.
I put my hand to my stomach and felt like I could throw up.
My other hand covered my mouth.
I looked in the mirror at myself.
Foster’s father had sort of become someone I could lean on. But it was all a joke. It was a set up. He was only around because of this junk. So he could move it. Hide it. He probably kept it here and came over when he needed some to sell or use.
I backed away, taking stuttering breaths.
I don’t want to do this alone.
I moved from the bathroom, leaving that gallon bag of death on the counter.
I needed my phone. I needed Foster. I couldn’t do this anymore. Not like this.
With my phone in my hand, I called for him. This was the moment. If he didn’t answer, I would keep calling. There was no…
There was a knock at the door.
The call started to ring for Foster.
I walked to the door and wondered if it was going to be Kevin. If it was, the words I had for him…
I opened the door and gasped.
It was Kevin. And he was in handcuffs.
My eyes went wide.
Then I heard a voice through my phone.
“Rose? Hello? Are you okay?”
39
Dream Away, Kingsley
Foster
I heard her voice and knew something was wrong. She tried to say she’d call me back but I told her no fucking way. That’s when I heard other voices. The sound of my father yelling. The way he yelled… I knew he was in cuffs. My father had different voices. A drunk voice. A high voice. A sober voice. An angry voice. But his handcuff voice was something completely different. He tried to sound super tough and strong, but you could hear this crackling, knowing he was terrified. I think it was the only time guilt ever crept into his broken soul.
There were other voices too. Obviously the police.
“Rose, what the fuck is happening?” I growled into the phone.
“Foster, I’ll call you when this settles. I’m sorry. I have…”
“She’s pregnant,” my father’s voice boomed. “You get your ass home and take care of your family, Kingsley.”
“What?” I asked.
“I’m sorry,” Rose said again.
That’s when the call went dead.
I stood in the middle of the dining room of the furnished apartment that Carl had been paying for for me. Everything was predesigned and I owned nothing except for the food in the fridge and my clothes and guitar.
She’s pregnant.
I hurried to call Rose back but she didn’t pick up.
Gritting my teeth, my hands started to shake.
“What the hell is happening?” I asked to nobody in the apartment with me.
Three more calls went ignored.
So I resorted to a fucking text message.
I kept it simple.
Rose - are you okay? Are you pregnant?
Then I waited. Strangely enough, it was like a woman waiting for the pregnancy test to give the results. My phone on the table, waiting for it to beep. My eyes scanning the apartment. My bag on the one counter. Notebooks on the table. My guitar resting on the couch.
My phone finally beeped with a reply from Rose.
I looked at my questions and I looked at her answers.
Was she okay… no… was she pregnant… yes…
I barreled through the apartment door with my bag and my guitar. Leaving the same way I had arrived. I called Carl and left him a message that there was an emergency. The keys to the apartment were on the table and I was flying home.
Home.
I had no idea w
hat the fuck home even was. I’d never really had a home. The closest thing to it had always been Rose.
Pregnant? She was pregnant?
My head spun.
I mapped out how long I had been gone in my mind. The last time Rose and I were together. How many times before that. Trying to match dates, but that was impossible because I had lost all track of time. Hours, days, weeks. It was a fucking blur. My life had become focused on writing music and recording music.
I couldn’t move fast enough. Needing to get back to Rose.
I was able to send her one more text message before I had to turn off my phone for a while.
Rose, I’m coming home to you. Where I belong.
When I sent the message, I wrestled through my bag to find a notebook. I was never meant to leave. Rose had been right all along. It was about taking a risk. The one thing we never did for each other. We’d get to the edge and instead of jumping, we’d back away. I never wanted Rose to jump because I never wanted her to experience hell. But I never truly thought it out. There would be no hell for Rose. I had already been there and survived. The flames had already licked my skin, the scars were my memories, and if hell tried to emerge again, I would wrap my arms around Rose and turn, keeping her safe from the flames.
Pregnant…
The word attacked me again.
It was all I could think about.
Rose… my Rose… carrying… our baby.
Hey Rose, sometimes I wonder about our tomorrow. What time the sun will rise. When I can hold your hand for the first time that day. When I can taste the morning coffee on your lips. When I can hear your laugh for the first time. When I look into your eyes and remind you how much I care. That I’ll always… try my best to be there.
The hours felt like years. I couldn’t relax, no matter what I did. I knew each second that passed I was closer to Rose, but it wasn’t fast enough. My track of time was so far off, my body didn’t know whether to be awake, tired, or somewhere in between. It was well past midnight as I drove through town, racing to get to Rose. I tried calling her but she didn’t answer. I tried calling the phone number that my father had called me from a few times. There was no answer. Hell, I even tried calling Rhett and he didn’t answer. I felt like I had stumbled into a ghost town.
Let You Go Page 25
