“I’m sorry,” I say softly, stepping forward to give him hug. He lifts his arms and pushes me away.
“I’m not done. We haven’t even gotten to you, yet. The girl on the beach and our romantic movie scene. Pretty sure we didn’t see this ending.”
I step back a few steps, afraid, I’ve never seen him like this before. He rubs a hand over the scruff of his cheek, stepping towards me. I’ve backed myself against the wall. He stretches his arms out, barricading me, making it so that I can’t move. My whole body trembles.
“So, now, you’re starting to see a pattern right? The women in my life don’t seem to fare so well.” His voice weakens. “Which leads me to one last person.” He drops down to his knees in front of my stomach. “That’s right, I’m talking about you in there,” he says to the bump. My lip quivers and my eyes fill. A tear falls from my face down into his hair as he continues talking to the baby. “I love you, but you see, I can’t give you anything. And for that I am sorry. I. Am. Sorry. Get used to hearing those words, ‘cause I have a feeling I’m gonna be saying them to you for the rest of my life.”
I run my hands through Bailey’s hair. The tears keep streaming down my face. I rub my fingers over his scalp while he rests his head on my belly.
“It’s okay.” My voice shakes. “I have a feeling this is all going to work out exactly like it’s supposed to,” I say, reassuring him.
He tips his back, his sad brown eyes desperately begging for answers. “How, Shayna? How is it all gonna work out? Tell me.”
I’m too choked up, “It just will,” is all I’m able to say in this moment.
A chill runs down my spine.
Somewhere out there, there’s a couple waiting for a baby, needing a family, and we’re going to give it to them.
Bailey
It’s a little before midnight when I head out to go pick her up from work. She runs out of the store and I switch over to the passenger seat so she can drive us home. Her eyes are swollen and puffy. I didn’t think it was possible to feel worse than I already did. My fucked up speech from earlier has had her crying all night at work.
It wasn’t my intention to make her cry like that. But when I walked in and saw her standing there, smiling up at me as if nothing was wrong, like I hadn’t just walked out on her and left her alone all night. Then to see her wearing that big shirt with my boxers, it tore at my heart. This poor girl doesn’t even own a pair of underwear that fit her, yet she never complains about it.
She’s quiet on the drive back to our apartment. I’m afraid to open my mouth. I’ve said more than enough today and I don’t want to upset her even more. In the apartment, she goes right into the bathroom and I hear the water running. Staying in my own bed in the front room is probably a smart decision for tonight.
The water stops. I keep my eyes closed, giving her the needed privacy to pass through the room. Her footsteps scamper across the room, stopping in front of my bed.
“Bailey, can we talk?” she whispers.
She’s wrapped in a thin green towel. Her dark hair is wet, clinging to her shoulders, little drops of moisture running down her smooth skin. The faint scent of honey flows around her. How did I ruin someone so beautiful? I sit up in the bed and she motions for me to follow her into her room.
She tightens the towel around her chest and paces the room nervously before finding the courage to speak. Her lips rub together and she pulls in a deep breath. “When I came to Florida, one of the things I wanted most was to find a purpose. I felt like I had no purpose. Like I was useless.” She stops, rolls her head back, and stares up at the ceiling, blinking back tears.
I nod in understanding. “And the baby makes you feel like you have purpose. I’m sorry about before. Those things I said, they were just me blowing off steam because I was let go from one of my jobs.” I finally tell her. “But I’m gonna find another one. A better one and we’re gonna be okay.”
“Yes, the baby makes me feel like I have a purpose, but in a way that, maybe we can . . . there’s something that we’ve never discussed and . . . ” She gulps, the next words hard for her to get out. I wait patiently but she stops talking. Whatever it is she wants to say, she can’t. I pull her into my chest and she sobs. Her tears soak my shirt. A knot develops in my chest. I have a feeling whatever she’s trying to say I don’t want to hear.
Tilting her head back, I brush away her tears with the tip of my thumbs. I bring my mouth down to hers, tasting the salty tears on her lips. The soft kiss becomes needy. Our tongues mingle aggressively. Desperation builds between us. I lay her back on the bed, removing the towel from her naked body. My hands caress her in the gentlest way possible, but the kissing stays intense and filled with passion.
Our bodies move together slowly. This isn’t sex. It’s different. It’s more.
Once we’re done, she’s falls asleep curled up against me. She never finishes telling me what it was she wanted to say. But I know.
The early morning light creeps in through the window. There’s a chance I dozed on and off but mostly I stayed awake, anticipating the conversation left unfinished.
Shayna stretches slightly, taking in a deep breath and exhaling slowly. Her back is toward me and she doesn’t turn around. “Bailey?”
“Yeah?” I shut my eyes, waiting for it.
“I talked to someone about adoption. I have some information that I want you to look at.”
All night I knew that’s what she was going to say. But hearing the words still rips the heart right from my chest.
“Are you mad?” she asks.
I pause before answering. “No.” But the truth is I am.
I’m furious. I’m so fucking mad I want to scream. Throw things. Smash them up against the wall. I’m filled with a rage so violent, if I could I’d slam my fist right through the wall.
I’m mad because one of the things I feel most at hearing her say those words is relieved.
Chapter Fourteen
Shayna
It’s painful, but I know we’re doing the right thing. Bailey and I have made a smart decision, one that will really make a difference for Michelle, for all of us.
The adoption agency sent profiles of hopeful adoptive parent’s right out to us. I had already started looking at some online through their website, but it was nice to have actual paper ones in my hands to look at.
The agency we chose is professional and compassionate. The care worker I was assigned has been amazing even though I’ve never even met her in person. She’s located in a different state. All of our communication is done through calls and emails. I even have her personal cell number to send texts. She’s available whenever I need her.
Corey’s sister has been an amazing support from the second I reached out to her. She understands. She answers questions before I even ask them. She cries along with me when the moments of doubt and panic set in. I’ve built a friendship with her that I’m confident will continue on even after the baby is born.
Bailey told me that Tammy knows about the pregnancy. I waited, half expecting her to call, stop by, or simply text . . . anything, but she never did. It could just be she doesn’t know what to say or do. She may even feel like it’s partly her fault that this all happened. Of course it’s not. Maybe I need to be the one to reach out to her. Who knows? We can try and start over again, build something real this time. I’m not going to give up on her just yet.
The profiles are scattered in front of me on the table. “Can you please just look at this one?” I stick my hand out to Bailey, shaking one of the pieces of paper at him, encouraging him to take it.
“I told you, I don’t care. Just pick one. I don’t want to look.” He keeps his head down, his knee bounces up and down like crazy, shaking our little kitchen table. Part of his jittery action is from needing a nicotine fix, but mostly it’s from the tremendous stress of choosing parents for Michelle.
“I need a smoke.” He scrapes his chair across the linoleum and heads for the door. He’s b
ack smoking, just not as much and not around me and the baby. Smoking is what takes the edge off for him. It’s his two minute escape from all of this. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
I pick up the profile and sigh. Bailey wants no part of helping me. He agreed with this decision, but whenever we go to discuss it he zones right out. If I push the subject, he gets angry, then always apologizes afterwards, blaming it on being sad. Of course, we’re both sad. This is one of the hardest things we’ll ever do in our lives. That’s why I want to make sure it’s perfect. I want to make sure that this baby gets a great mom and dad. And I want her to have grandparents who will adore her, aunts and uncles and loads of cousins. A family that is close. Something that’s the complete opposite of what Bailey and I each grew up with.
One profile online stood out to me. It was one that, no matter how many others I looked at, I kept going back to. The girl has dark hair with fair skin like I do. Her eyes are even blue, too. The guy is tall and handsome. He plays the guitar and has a bunch of nice tattoos and the sweetest smile. In a way, they remind me of us.
In the pictures they posted, they are surrounded by family. They all live close to one another and talk about getting together often and having regular family pizza nights. I just get a feeling when I look at them that they’re the ones. Kent and Robin.
Their actual paper profile was one of the ones sent to me from the agency. I took that as a real good sign. My eyes skim the paper until I reach my favorite part. Kent and Robin each wrote a letter about each other. I’ve already read it a million times, so one more time won’t hurt.
I’d like to tell you about Robin. She lived across the street from me growing up. The girl next door. Of course, I fell madly in love with her. Not that I realized it right away. It wasn’t until we were in high school that I started to appreciate all the great things about her and realize that the way she made me feel was actually love.
We began dating. I say that like it was simple. It wasn’t. There were some bumps in the road. We worked them out and everything was great. Well, until we hit some new bumps. It was tough, we spent some time apart and when we finally reconnected . . . you guessed it, more bumps.
We’ve come to learn that life is full of bumps. There are always going to be bumps, some bigger than others and you need help getting over them. How you do that is with love and support. I love Robin. Any bumps that come our way, we can get over them together. Forget bumps, I’d climb mountains for her.
Robin is an amazing wife. Supportive in every way, she is intelligent, thoughtful, and kind. My heart leaps every time that I look at her.
Family is important to us. Again, full of all the love and support needed. We have two nieces and another one on the way. Robin is their favorite aunt. Okay, she’s their only aunt, but still, they adore her. I watch her with them and I know she is going to be an amazing mother.
She will give every part of her heart and soul into being a mother and providing all the love necessary for our future family. ~Kent
Bailey comes back into the apartment. His eyes land on the paper in my hand. He shakes his head, stomping into the backroom.
“We need to make a decision,” I say to him from the doorway, still clutching the profile.
He’s sprawled out on the bed, hands cupped behind his head. “We made it already. We’re giving the baby away. Life is good and happy again. Move on.”
I hate when he does this. Like it’s not just as hard on me. “The clock is ticking. Michelle is going to be here very soon. I want your help in picking out her parents.”
“Why the hell did you go and name her?” Bailey seethes. “You know who ever we pick, that’s it, we’re never gonna see her again. They’ll go off and live their perfect life and we’ll just be those asshole kids who gave away their baby.”
“No, we won’t be. In their profile they said they would send us pictures and letters. They said they understand how brave we are to make this decision and that they know it comes from love. They’ll let Michelle know that. They’ll raise her knowing that what we did was because we love her.”
“Who are they, Shayna? Two people on a piece of paper. Is that what we’re doing, just glancing at a bunch of phony pictures that claim life is perfect and saying okay, boom, you guys are the winners?”
“Bailey, I don’t know what you want,” I cry. “I’m trying so hard. I want her to have a great life. I want to pick the right people. I liked this couple because they can give her a great life. They are a close family, they love each other. They’re not saying everything is perfect. Kent even talks about bumps in the road.” I hold the profile out. “Kent plays the guitar like you, he has tattoos, he likes Superman. Robin works in a hospital, she’s smart and I think she’ll make a great mom.”
I try handing him the paper but he still won’t take it. “I just don’t want to see it. I don’t want to see the faces of the people who get to raise . . . Michelle.” It’s the first time he’s ever said her name.
“Bailey, we agreed this is what’s best. Are you changing your mind?”
“No, I’m not.” He rubs hard at his neck, the skin underneath turning raw and red.
“Well, then I need you. I need your help with this. You don’t talk to me anymore. I don’t know anything going on anymore. I need you to look at this profile. I need you tell me what happens.” I stop there. One thing at a time. We need to focus on Michelle now. What happens with us after is something we’ll deal with when the time comes.
“Sorry, I just need to get the fuck out of here for a while,” he says. He puts an unlit cigarette between his tight lips. “I’ll be back later.” He leaves the room and a few seconds later, the front door slams shut.
I’m preparing myself for a big loss. First Michelle. And then him.
Bailey
I don’t technically go anywhere, just down to the parking lot on the side of our building. I’m not gonna be far away in case she needs me. It’s just I can’t breathe when she starts in on those profiles. She doesn’t get it. I want this to be over with. I want Shayna to have the baby and just give her to her new parents. I don’t even want to see her. I don’t want to look at that little face and then watch some couple walk out of the hospital holding onto our little girl. It’s bullshit if she thinks I can handle something like that.
I know we’re not ready to be parents. I know Michelle deserves more. I know doing this is the right thing. But I don’t want to see it. I want to shut my eyes and when I wake up, I want this to be over with. Michelle will be living happily somewhere a lot better than here, and me and Shayna can… we can… I have no idea. My chest feels like it’s caving in. Do I lose her, too?
These are the things she probably wants to discuss. If I’m feeling this way, I’m sure she is, too. I hear her cry when she thinks I’m asleep. I see her face, red and swollen, after she looks at the profiles. I’m being a selfish prick once again. But if I talk to her, I’m afraid I’ll just break down. I don’t want her seeing me like that.
I climb the stairs back up to the apartment and go in. Shayna is sound asleep in the back room. She’s curled up, a sweet-sounding snore coming out of her. She’s been doing that a lot lately, snoring. I’d never tell her, she’d probably be embarrassed. The truth is I like hearing it. When I wake up, I know she’s there, right beside me. It’s comforting.
The profile is lying on the bed, slightly crumpled, sticking out from under her. I pull in a deep breath, gently sliding out the paper without disturbing her and take it into the front. I switch on a light and park myself in one of the plastic chairs.
With the paper grasped firmly in my hands, I count, one, two, three, and look down.
Kent and Robin. There they are. Two people desperate for what we’re ready to give up. I begin to read. I look at their pictures. Kent plays in a band. He teaches music at the high school he used to go to. Robin’s pretty, pale skin, dark hair. If the baby comes out looking like Shayna, I bet people might even tell Robin the baby looks
just like her. They’ve got a nice house. It’s displayed in one of the pictures. The profile mentions that they live close to Kent’s parents and his brother and family. Sounds like that might be a bit much, but I guess that shows they all love each other. I re-read the small section written by Robin.
My mornings start off the same every single day, with Kent telling me he loves me. He’s romantic, passionate, and makes me so happy. He sings to me, always making up funny songs just to see me smile. I feel confident and loved every minute of every day. He makes sure of that. I feel so lucky to have fallen in love and married my best friend.
His shiny guitar is covered in sticky fingerprints from his nieces who love to “help” him play. He comes from a warm, loving family and it shows. Every good characteristic of his loving parents has been passed down to him. I love being his wife, and I love being part of this amazing family.
All the love he has, that we have, will be passed down to our child. We will always make sure that the child feels confident, happy and loved. Not just by us, but by you. We understand that a decision as brave as the one you are making can only be done out of love. You will always hold a very special place in all of our hearts.
I choke down the emotion rising up. They are great. They’re everything we’re looking for. Hell, I wish they could be my parents. They promise to send us pictures, keep us informed of big events in her life. And I believe them. These two faces on a piece of paper. I fucking believe them.
I debate whether I should wake Shayna up to talk; tell her I read the profile. Talk about what’s next. Tell her how I feel about her. I feel moisture around my eyes. I can’t go in there like some little bitch and cry. There’s gotta be another way. I clunk my hand down on the table and tap my fingers until an idea hits me.
Panic (The Flaw Series) Page 20
