Quadruplets Make Six: A Fake Relationship Secret Baby Romance

by Nicole Elliot

  Her favorite room of my house so far was the library. It sat at the back of the house and was completely off limits to the kids. They had their own little library with age-appropriate books of all kinds—coloring books with crayons taped to the inside and cardboard picture books, children’s poetry books and those little puppet books that had all the things the boys could touch and feel and explore.

  The library at the back of the house, however, was fit for an adult. It had its own fireplace and cozy nooks with reading chairs. It had a large window on the far side of the wall that overlooked the hillside slope of the property. The windowsill was decorated with a plush cushion and had blankets folded in the corner, and the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves were piled high with books, both read and unread by all in the house.

  There was a coffee station in case the reader wanted coffee and a small, miniature bar in case the reader wanted something stronger. There were blankets and fuzzy socks and anything else I could think of to make the person enjoying this space as relaxed as possible.

  And every single time, Libby would gravitate to that room.

  “I can’t imagine what a place like this must cost,” Libby said.

  “I can’t believe you haven’t gotten used to it,” I said.

  “I don’t think I will. You’ve seen where I live. That’s what I’m used to.”

  “Well, get used to all this. Because you’re carrying my child and the two of you will have the best.”

  “I don’t need the best, Graham.”

  “But you deserve the best. And I want to give it to you.”

  “I don’t want your money.”

  “I never said you did.”

  “All I want is your support through all this.”

  “And you have it,” I said. “All of it. For as long as you want it. And it’ll be the best support you could ever receive.”

  “I don’t need the best, Graham.”

  “Before we get into this pitiful little fight that will end with you underneath me, I have something I want to talk about,” I said with a grin.

  “And simply because you said that, no sex for you,” she said.

  “That’s what you think.”

  “You’re insane. You know that?”

  “For you, maybe,” I said. I walked out of the library toward the kitchen. She followed, just like I knew she would.

  I watched her cheek flush underneath my words as we stood in the middle of the kitchen.

  “Anyway, what is it you wanna talk about?” she asked.

  “I was wondering if we had reached an appropriate time to tell the kids about their new sibling.”

  “Now? I mean… you want to tell the kids now?” she asked.

  I watched the color drain from Libby’s face as I pulled the sorbet from the freezer.

  “You know we have to tell them sometime. Eventually you’re going to start showing and they’ll start asking questions,” I said. “And by ‘them,’ I mean Lizzie.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I know. I know that. I just… don’t really know how they’ll react. And by ‘they,’ I mean Lizzie. The boys are too young to understand what’s going on.”

  “Yep... I mean, they turn two next month. But Lizzie? She’ll be excited,” I said.

  “How do you know?”

  “She was ecstatic when her mother got pregnant with the twins.”

  “But I’m not her mother,” she said.

  I scooped us up two bowls of sorbet and carried it over to where she was sitting. I could see the panic ebbing behind her eyes and it hurt. What was she panicking over? The kids loved her. The dinners were going fantastic and they were even asking about her during the week, wondering if she would ‘come over and play’ or go on our family outings with us on the weekends.

  “Talk to me,” I said. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

  “This is my first child, Graham. I just don’t want to spend it fielding other people’s disappointment and anger.”

  “Why would anyone be disappointed or angry at you being pregnant?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said as she picked up her spoon. “But it could happen, right?”

  “Libby, you can’t worry yourself about stuff like that. Especially when you don’t know how people around going to react. Look at me. Did I seem disappointed or angry when you told me?”

  “No. But you were obligated to be happy.”

  “Obligated?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Anything else would’ve made you look like a bigger ass.”

  My eyebrows ticked up as I watched Libby play with her sorbet. Her eyes were cast out the window and she was gazing off into the nighttime sky. This was about something else. There was something else bothering her that she wasn’t talking about. Something that had been rumbling around in her system for far too long without speaking about it.

  “If we’re going to raise a child together, we have to be able to talk this out,” I said.

  “I just… don’t know if telling your kids is the right thing to do.”

  “Why not?” I asked. “Don’t you want them to know their little brother or sister?”

  “I do. So much, Graham. But I don’t…”

  “What, Libby? What is it? Just say it.”

  “I don’t want them thinking we’re together. I don’t want them thinking I’m going to be their new mother when we don’t… even know what this is.”

  I saw tears welling in her eyes as she pushed her bowl of sorbet away from her. That was what this was all about. Libby still wasn’t sure if we should be together. Despite all the wonderful dinner nights and the dates we had and the phone calls we shared, she still wasn’t sure.

  “Libby, look at me.”

  I watched her turn her watery gaze to mine and it broke my heart.

  “What else can I do to prove to you that we belong together?” I asked.

  “Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean we belong together, Graham.”

  “I’m not talking about your pregnancy, Libby. Even before that. Before you came to my doorstep and found out about my family, there was something between us. I know you felt it.”

  “Graham, I-”

  “I know I damaged your trust in me. I know I intentionally pulled the wool over your eyes. But it was only to protect my kids. It’s always ever been to protect my kids. And pretty soon, I’ll be protecting our kid as well as you. No matter what it takes.”

  “Graham, I just-”

  “Tell me what I can do. I’m willing to do anything. I want a family with you, Libby. I want this. With you.”

  “I need time, Graham. I just… I need time.”

  I watched her get up from her seat and grab her things in the corner. She fluttered down the hallway, her hips swaying lightly and her feet sliding across the floor. Even at three months pregnant, she still moved with the grace she’d had at that wedding. The wedding that brought us together and established me as her protector before I ever knew what I was in for with her.

  I jumped up from my seat and raced after her, catching her wrist before she walked out the door.

  “Stay with me,” I said.

  I watched her body still, but she didn’t turn to look at me.

  “I know it’s not fair of me to ask. I know you asked that of me so many times when we were together before. But I promise you, if you stay, you’ll never want for anything. You’ll be cared for, and protected, and cherished. I’ll never force anything on you that you don’t want, and I’ll never ask anything of you that I know you can’t give.”

  I heard her sigh, then felt her pull her wrist from my grasp.

  “You’re right,” she said as she stepped out onto the porch. “It’s not fair of you to ask.”

  Then she walked down the steps, headed to her car, and drove off into the night.

  Eighteen

  Libby

  “Your daughter’s so well-behaved,” I said. “How did you do it?”

  “You only get this side of her when you’re in publ
ic with her,” Joanna said. “When she’s at home, she can really be a terror.”

  “Oh, is Momma talkin’ bad about you?” I said. “That’s so mean. That’s so mean of her. Come here, you’re so precious. I’m sure you are a wonderful girl at home.”

  I took the little girl from Joanna’s arms and cradled her against my body. She was the sweetest thing I had ever come across. She was calmly sitting in her high chair and eating her food while the two of us caught up over lunch. She was smiling and drawing designs in her mashed-up avocado. She was all smiles and had this toothy little grin that made my heart melt.

  “How are you feeling?” Joanna asked.

  “I’m doing okay,” I said.

  “No, I mean… how’s the pregnancy going? You’re, what… five months along now?”

  “Five and a half,” I said. “And I really am doing okay. The nausea finally subsided, but now I crave all the weirdest things.”

  “With her, all I wanted to do was drink milk and eat oranges over the sink.”

  “You craved eating over the sink?” I asked.

  “I wanted them so badly I wasn’t patient enough to put them on a plate. I sliced them and dove right in over the kitchen sink. But we realized why once her teeth started coming in.”

  “Why?” I asked. “Is there something wrong?”

  “Not really wrong, but she’s got weak teeth. The enamel on her teeth didn’t form properly, which was why my body was craving milk so much. She wasn’t developing properly and my body was craving the necessary calcium in order to try and right was what going wrong.”

  “Then what did the oranges do?”

  “Vitamin C helps the calcium adhere and stick. The more milk my body required, the more Vitamin C it required.”

  “So the things I’m craving are my body’s way of telling me I need more of that nutrient?” I asked.

  “Sometimes. What have you been craving?”

  “Banana, marshmallow fluff, and mustard sandwiches,” I said.

  Joanna stared at me blankly before she stifled her laughter.

  “I’ve got nothin’,” she said. “You’re gross.”

  “Don’t worry. Graham thinks it’s gross, too. He got it in his head that whatever I was craving, he would eat with me so I wouldn’t feel alone in the weirdness. I tested him and asked me to make that sandwich and he tried it with me, just to keep his word. The issue was, he spat it out and I kept eating. And now, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

  “First off, disgusting. You’re still gross. Second of all, you really need to stop testing that man.”

  “I’m not testing him. He’s the one who came up with the stupid idea to not eat things I couldn’t eat and to eat all the things I did.”

  “Because he cares about you and what’s going on with your body. He doesn’t want you to feel left out of anything. It’s actually really sweet. My husband ate ice cream in front of me while the stuff made me gag. You’re lucky.”

  “I know I am.”

  “I know that tone of voice. Spit it out. What’s on your mind?” she asked.

  “It’s stupid.”

  “Nothing is stupid when you’re pregnant. Now spill.”

  “It’s just that… Graham wants to put on this baby shower. You know, this massive affair at his home.”

  “The gargantuan home you’re always going on about with the library?” she asked.

  “Yep. That one. But he wants to invite his family.”

  “That’s usually who attends a baby shower, yes.”

  “All of his family.”

  “What’s the big deal?” she asked.

  “I haven’t met his family yet.”

  “Ah, so that is a big deal. You’re nervous to meet them?”

  “Of course I am! Joanna, I’m a part-time tutor and a part-time law firm secretary. He’s the owner of the biggest technology company in the nation.”

  “So? Who the hell cares?”

  “They’re going to care. I’m nowhere near his league. His family’s going to expect one thing, then they’re going to get me. They’re going to be disappointed and it’s going to ruin everything.”

  “You mean like you’re ruining everything?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “I know you’re holding him at arm’s length because of the things that happened between you two, but that was months ago. At some point in time, you have to either let go and start trusting him, or tell him the two of you are simply going to be co-parents and keep pressing forward.”

  “So you think I’m leading him on.”

  “No. But I do think you’re scared. And I do think you’re letting that fear get the best of you. Which you don’t deserve, and neither does he.”

  “I don’t know what to do. I only know that meeting his family while we’re still like this isn’t the best thing.”

  “I completely agree. Which means you’ll have to sit down and have a talk with Graham,” she said. “Which means you’ll have to make up your mind.”

  “On what?”

  “On whether or not you want to be with him.”

  I sat there picking at my salad as Joanna’s input rattled through my mind. Was I stringing Graham on like she thought I was? Like I thought I was? I wanted to be with him. I enjoyed the time I spent around him and his kids. The larger I grew in my pregnancy, the more excited I got. So why was I so scared? What was I so afraid of?

  “Do you love him?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Do you love him?” Joanna asked.

  “I don’t… where did that…?”

  “That’s what this all boils down to. Graham seems like a great guy and from what you’ve told me, he seems to really care about you. So you have to figure out if you care about him back. Do you?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “So you do love him?”

  “I don’t… think it’s…”

  Did I love him? The past few months had been a whirlwind, but could I say I loved him? I mean, whenever I laid down in my bed at night I wished he was there. Every time I woke up in his bed at his house my heart fluttered with joy. There were nights where I craved him so badly I needed to hear his voice. But was that love?

  Or infatuation?

  “What do you have to lose by trying to make things work with the father of your child?” Joanna asked.

  “Nothing,” I said. “But I don’t want to get my hopes up, either. I did that with him once, and he dodged me for two weeks before I found out he had three kids.”

  “That he dodged you because of. He didn’t duck you because he had another woman in the picture. He ducked you because his kids were sick and he wasn’t ready to tell you about them. How can you still be upset about that?”

  “I’m not upset that he dodged me because of his kids,” I said.

  “Then what are you upset about?”

  “I’m upset that he only trusted me with them once he found out I was pregnant.”

  That was really the truth. Our relationship had only really taken off after that encounter because I told him I was pregnant. How was I supposed to know if he really wanted me? Maybe he was simply doing all this because I was pregnant with his child. Maybe he didn’t care about me the way I cared about him.

  Because the truth was, I did care about Graham. A lot.

  “You think he’s being disingenuous because you’re pregnant,” Joanna said.

  “Yes. I do. I’m so scared this is all a ruse, and that when this child comes and things get real, he’ll back away.”

  “From your child?”

  “No. From me. I don’t doubt for one second that he’d do anything for our child. But me? I don’t know. He… didn’t trust me in the beginning with his secrets, and then I tell him I’m pregnant and suddenly I know everything about him? He’s unwilling to keep secrets now? How is that supposed to make me feel?”

  “Have you talked with him about this?” she asked.

  “No, I haven’t.”

&nbs
p; “You know communication’s imperative for two people having a child, right?”

  “So Graham has told me time and time again.”

  “Then maybe you should take the sign he’s showing you.”

  “What if I lose him, Joanna?” I asked breathlessly.

  “So you do love him?”

  I felt my eyes water as I finally admitted the truth to myself. I did. I was in love with Graham. I was in love with his piercing blue stare and his thick head of hair. I was in love with his chiseled muscles and the soul they encased. I was in love with his laughter and in love with his command. I was in love with his zest for life and his dedication to our child.

  I was in love with him, and I was petrified that he wasn’t in love with me.

  “I’m not sure. I could be,” I said with a shrug. “There are so many things to sort out still.”

  “There will always be things to sort out, Libby. Coming from a mother of a fairly well-behaved daughter, you’ll always have things to sort out. Your life won’t ever fully fall into place after you have that kid you’re growing. Ever. But that’s what Graham’s there for. To help you when those times get hard. And if you love him, stop denying it. It’s only going to hurt you two more. And if you do love him, then start acting like it. Because one day you’re going to test him, he’s going to fail, and you’re going to go ‘aha’ when you make your own worst nightmare come true.”

  “Can I tell you something stupid?” I asked.

  “Anything to lighten up this conversation,” Joanna said.

  “I always imagined I’d get married first.”

  Joanna started to giggle and it caused me to do the same. We were trying to stifle our laughter in the middle of the restaurant as she held her daughter in her lap. I cupped my hand over my mouth and bit down on my lip, trying desperately to not howl out into the room.

  Laughter with Joanna was always cathartic, even though it was tinged with a bit of sadness.

  “Do you know what I say to all of this?” Joanna asked.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “Do what you want. If you want to love Graham, then love him. If you want to get married, then talk to him about it. If you want to live with him or on your own or in a mole hill on top of a mountain, talk to him. But whatever you decide to do, talk to the man, Libby. Stop keeping him in the dark.”