A Baby for the Beast

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A Baby for the Beast Page 42

by Chance Carter


  "Oh yeah," she replied smoothly. "Just about to push a fucking watermelon out of my vagina and it looks like I peed all over the living room rug. Feelin' pretty great."

  I chuckled and breezed out the door, heading for the elevator. I waved at my receptionist on the way past and she gave me an excited thumbs up, divining the nature of the phone call from the panicked expression on my face.

  "Baby, just tell me you're okay."

  "I'm okay, I'm okay," she said with a sigh. "Jeez. Anybody ever tell you that you worry too much?"

  I jammed my finger on the button for the parking garage. "You. All the time, actually."

  "It's a shame it hasn't stuck yet."

  "Maybe after another twenty years and six kids it will."

  "Six kids? You must be out of your fucking mind, Mr. Ralston."

  "Only with my love for you, Mrs. Ralston. Have you started having contractions yet?"

  My phone connected to the Bluetooth once I was in my car, and I spent the whole drive home talking to Aurora and keeping her distracted. I could tell she was trying to be relaxed about everything, but the reality of the situation was catching up quick. I didn't know how much longer I could keep her calm without being by her side. And hell, I didn't know if I could keep her calm once I was at her side either. That woman had a mind of her own and wasn't afraid to use it.

  I told Aurora to wait in the apartment until I got there, but she insisted on waiting on the curb with her overnight bag, citing restlessness as her cause. I suspected she just wanted to get to the hospital as quickly as possible. She was nervous about what came next, and in truth I was too, but it was my job to make her less nervous.

  She got into the car and I began to drive, letting her squeeze my hand until I was sure there would be a permanent mark.

  "Hey," I said softly, glancing over at her.

  She was practicing deep breathing, but it didn't look to be having any effect. Her forehead was beaded with sweat.

  "Hey, Aurora look at me."

  She did, eyes wide.

  I tried an easy smile and looked back to the road. "Do you remember our wedding day?"

  "Of course I do," she scoffed. "It was the best day of my life."

  I smiled at the memory. "Me too. Though I suspect it's about to get blown out of the water by today."

  Her hand squeezed a little tighter and I chastised myself for the slip. She needed distracting, not reassuring.

  "I remember how beautiful you looked walking down the aisle," I told her. "Afterward, Calypso and Amy told me how frustrated you were when you looked in the mirror and saw your belly. How you wished you had a flat stomach for just this one day, but the second I saw you I knew that at that moment, there was no woman more beautiful in the world. There was no scene more perfect than you walking toward me in that snow white dress, your belly swollen with our child. You laughed as you walked toward me. What were you laughing at?"

  Aurora buckled over and groaned and squeezed my hand even harder. She was starting to get contractions.

  "Baby," I pressed. "What were you laughing about?"

  She took a breath and answered, "I don't remember."

  "Think back." I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed her knuckles. "Why were you laughing?"

  She was silent for a moment, and I wondered if she was about to tell me to fuck off. Then she said, "Peter. I was laughing at Peter."

  Interesting. "Why?"

  She chuckled. "He was trying to catch Amy's attention, I think. He was the only person in the whole place who was looking somewhere other than me, and I just thought it was funny. It was perfect, really. It just reminded me—" She groaned, squeezed, but kept on talking. "It just reminded me how real everything was. Just when things started feeling too much like a fantasy, I looked down the end of the wedding aisle and saw your best friend trying to give the sexy eyes to my best friend, who also happens to be an escort." She chuckled lightly, and released some of the pressure on my hand. "I had the same kind of thought when Calypso changed into her third outfit for the evening."

  "I remember that," I mused. "Amy was annoyed that she'd only brought two outfits."

  She laughed, buckling over again. I couldn't tell whether it was from pain or mirth. When she didn't sit upright again right away, I squeezed her hand and kept talking.

  "Remember the reception? How fun it was?" I reminded. "Everyone was dancing, even my ancient aunt and uncle, but they always left a ring of space around us so that we could feel like we were the only people in the room. I remember holding you in my arms and realizing that I'd waited my entire life for this moment without knowing that was what I'd been building up to. The best part was that I knew there would be plenty of other moments just like that because I would be spending the rest of my life with you."

  "Uh-huh," she said in a strained voice.

  I could tell she was trying to stay present, but the pain and anxiety was dragging her somewhere else. All I could do was keep talking, and I chatted up a storm the whole way to the hospital. When we got there, I got an orderly to bring us a wheelchair and made sure we were seen to immediately. Aurora barely had time for another contraction before she was in a hospital bed with a nurse taking her vitals.

  "How are you feeling?" I asked the next time we had a second alone. "I know that's a dumb question, but I mean mentally, not physically. Is there anything I can do to help?"

  She threaded her fingers through mine, and I was relieved to see she looked a lot less stressed than she was in the car.

  "I’m scared," she said. "I know it's going to hurt, and I'm worried about if something goes wrong. But more than that, I'm excited. Happy. I don't think I could do this without you, though."

  I kissed her knuckles again. "That is the nature of procreation, I'm afraid."

  Aurora rolled her eyes. "It's like you were born to be a dad. The closer you get to having a baby in your arms, the worse the dad jokes get."

  "By the time our kid's in high school, I intend to have fully scarred them for life with my awkward humor."

  "You're on the right path." She smiled, and rays of sunbeams glowed right under her skin. "I'm happy, Brendon."

  I leaned in close, brushing my lips over hers. "Hi Happy, I'm Dad."

  Many hours later, I walked into the waiting room to find a small crowd waiting for me. There were enough flowers, balloons, and teddy bears to decorate a children's birthday party.

  "Hey, everyone," I said, catching their attention.

  Nobody looked at my face, though. They were all too distracted by the little bundle in my arms. I didn't blame them.

  "I have someone I want you to meet."

  Amy was the first to rush over to me, gazing thoughtfully into the face of the most beautiful little lady in the world.

  "This is Fiona," I said.

  "Oh, Brendon..." Amy cooed, staring with wide eyes at the gurgling little girl. "She's perfect."

  I looked down at my baby, smiling. "She is, isn't she?" I chuckled. "She takes after her mother."

  Chapter 34

  Aurora

  It wasn't a long drive, but it felt like the longest one of my life. Leaving New York and heading back to the town I grew up in felt like abandoning my safety blanket and stepping out into a lightning storm. I was more nervous than I likely should have been, but with good reason.

  Though my mom had mercifully attended my wedding—I would have been crushed if she'd declined the invitation—I hadn't seen her since. And hell, I didn't see her much at the wedding, either. She'd accepted my new life, but that didn’t mean she respected it yet. I got the feeling that we still had a few repairs to make to our bridge and I hoped that this visit would help do that.

  "Stop stressing," Brendon chided.

  I glanced over at him, arms crossed. "I'll stress if I want."

  "It won't help."

  "You don't know that."

  "I do know that," he said, taking his eyes from the road just long enough to trap me in his judicious gaze. "I
also know you, and I know that you're prone to spiraling which I think we can all agree is not good for you."

  I sighed and turned in my seat, staring into the back of the car. Fiona was sleeping soundly in her car seat. Her tiny face was all squished up and wrinkled beneath her shock of red hair, and I indulged the urge to reach back and stroke my finger over her cheek. She was as soft as cashmere.

  "How's she doing back there?" Brendon asked.

  "Sleeping like...well, like a baby." I turned back to the front and watched as we passed by the sign welcoming us to Bridgefield. I turned to look back at Fiona again, staring for some time before Brendon finally questioned me.

  "Whatcha doin' there?"

  I laughed. "I just can't stop staring at her. She's so beautiful."

  "I know how you feel." The look he gave me was equal parts love and lust, and even after all this time I still blushed like a teenager.

  I twisted back to front again. We were getting close to my mom's place now. She was expecting us, so I knew that turning around and heading back into the city wasn't an option. Not that Brendon would let me do that, anyway.

  "What are you so worried about?" he asked. "I'm going to be there. Fiona's going to be there. Your mom's going to be way too distracted by the world's cutest baby to harp on you about your life choices. We're past all that."

  "I know, I know." I sighed. "It's not that."

  "Then what is it?"

  I brushed my hands awkwardly over my jeans and looked down at them. "It's just that... you've never been here before. I haven't been back since I first left. I think I'm just worried that my perfect life is in a bubble, and something about this place is going to be the thing that pops it."

  "That's ridiculous, baby." Brendon snatched my hand out of his lap and squeezed it. His warm fingers easily eclipsed mine. I loved how big his hands were.

  "Our life in New York does not exist in a bubble. It's not something you can just pop like that. It's real. It's every bit as concrete as the sidewalks, and even if this place somehow managed to put a crack in it—which it won’t—cracks can be filled."

  I leaned back against the headrest and watched as we turned down my mom's street. We passed the house that she suggested I buy with Nolan, and a shudder worked through me.

  "You're right." I managed a smile, even though my trepidation still lingered under the surface. "Let's do this."

  Brendon parked and retrieved Fiona's car seat while I checked my face in the mirror and stepped out of the car. He met me at the bottom of the driveway and grabbed my hand.

  "I'm excited," he said as we walked up. "I've always wondered about where you grew up. I think this is a good thing."

  His enthusiasm was almost catching. It made me feel better about my whole bubble hypothesis.

  I knocked on the front door, wondering how awkward this was going to be. I'd been dreading it for days.

  The door swung open to reveal my mother's smiling face. This shocked me a little because, not only was she smiling, but it was a genuine, honest-to-God smile. No trace of sourness, no hint of contempt. She looked twenty years younger.

  "There you are!" she exclaimed, wrapping me in a tight hug before I could even process what was happening. "I was beginning to think you got lost on your way back home."

  A few months ago, that comment would have been a dig. Now it was clearly a jest.

  "We were a little late setting off," I explained, pulling back from the hug. "Fiona was being fussy."

  Mom waved me off. "No worries, darling. Babies are always fussy, even when they grow into adults!" She turned to Brendon and gave him a kiss on the cheek and a much lighter hug than I'd received before dropping into a squat to Fiona's level.

  "Oh, she's just so beautiful," Mom cooed. "I feel so incredibly lucky. Come on in, come on in."

  She disappeared into the house and Brendon and I followed. My anxiety slowly began to lessen, leaving space for warm nostalgia as I sucked in the familiar floral smell of the house. Mom liked to have fresh flowers at all times, and her current beau was keeping her up to her neck in them, I observed as I walked into the living room.

  Mom ushered us onto the couch and took our drink orders. I was just glad I could drink wine again.

  The smile she gave me as she passed me my wine made me feel like all the bad blood between us had never existed. That feeling was accompanied by a glorious rush of relief as I realized that I'd been worrying myself sick for no reason. Everything was going to be okay, just like Brendon said.

  For the first few minutes, Mom sat in front of Fiona and stroked her tiny hand while she asked me questions about how things went at the hospital. She told me the story of my birth, and we laughed at some of the parallels—including both the dads being completely clueless and running around like chickens with their heads cut off.

  "I was not clueless," Brendon defended.

  "Not about the process of birth, darling," Mom said, touching him on the arm. "About how to deal with a woman in labor."

  I laughed. "At one point, he whipped out a stress ball like he thought it was the holy grail. I threw it at his head."

  Brendon took on a pained expression, but I saw the amusement in his eyes nonetheless. Plus, I knew he'd gladly be flogged in the streets if it meant I improved my relationship with my mother. As somebody who came from such a large, close-knit family, it distressed him to see me so estranged from my only living parent.

  Another glass of wine and the conversation changed to encompass Bridgefield life. Not much had changed since I left, but Mom wanted to make sure I didn't miss a thing. She told me about the refurbishment at Fred’s Fishing Hole, and how she recently spotted a man with a man-bun on the street.

  "It's beginning to feel very cosmopolitan," she said proudly, though I knew she would hate it if it ever did get that way.

  "Nolan's got a new girlfriend." There was no antagonistic edge to her voice like there usually was when she talked about my ex-boyfriend. Then again, maybe it was just that I no longer heard it that way. Maybe some of the issues we had to get over were my problem as well. Imagine that.

  "Oh yeah?" I asked. "And what's she like?"

  Mom rolled her eyes. "She's a piece of work. Thinks she's Kim Kardashian, or whoever the young women are idolizing these days. Nolan struts her around town like she's some sort of trophy, even though I can't think of a single person here who'd go near her with a ten-foot pole." she clucked her tongue. "He's clearly still bitter about your break up."

  I expected this to make me feel some sort of malicious glee, but it didn't. I just felt kind of bad for him. Everything that was wrong with his life he obviously brought on himself, but I still considered myself to be extremely fortunate to have had things work out for me the way they had. I hoped that one day Nolan would find that kind of happiness too.

  "How's the job going?" she asked.

  I ignored the fact that she still referred to what I did as "the job" in a way that clearly demonstrated she did not understand it. The fact that she was asking about it in general and with a positive tone was good.

  "Well I'm on maternity leave now," I told her, "but Brendon and I have some big plans for when I'm back."

  Brendon's eyes lit up. "We're planning on opening a couple new stores in the new year," he said. "Aurora's designs have given the company an excellent boost in sales and exposure. Our stock is at the highest it's ever been."

  "That's wonderful news," Mom said, nodding. "Simply wonderful."

  There was no sarcasm.

  We stayed overnight in Bridgefield's only hotel, even though my mom insisted we stay with her. I didn't want to crowd her too much, and I also wanted to leave on a positive note. I'd take these happy memories with me back to New York, and maybe next time I came for a visit I wouldn't dread it so much.

  Next time we came for a visit, though, we were definitely staying at one of the nicer hotels a town or two over. The Bridgefield Inn was hardly a fleabag, but I'd apparently gotten accustomed to a much hig
her standard of comfort.

  "It's certainly no Fox Regent," Brendon commented in a light tone as we stepped into the suite.

  I dragged my eyes from the garish wall decor to the old-as-nails TV balanced on the far wall, then to the godawful drapes. I tried to imagine any of Calypso's girls agreeing to work in a room like this and couldn't.

  "You were the one who wanted to stay the night." I ribbed him in the side.

  Brendon laughed. "Hey, we had a good night, didn't we?"

  We had, so I didn't argue any more with him. Instead, I wrapped my arms around his torso and lowered my face against his chest.

  "Being back here is so strange for me," I said, voice muffled by his shirt. "I remember living here, but it was like it was another life. It feels more like I'm remembering a dream than anything else."

  Brendon's arms wrapped around me and he lowered his lips to my forehead. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

  I shrugged. "Neither, I suppose. Just a thing. And you know what else?"

  "What?"

  I pulled back to look at him, smiling when I saw the look of pure adoration on his face.

  "You were right. Coming here was a good idea."

  Brendon's eyebrows shot up and he grinned. "I was, was I?"

  "Don't get too cocky." I made a show of rolling my eyes. "You know it looks too good on you."

  He dropped his voice to a husky whisper. "Maybe that's why I do it."

  "You do it because you're insufferable."

  "Impossible." Brendon kissed me, just a brief but loving peck. "You're living proof that I am, indeed, very sufferable."

  What could I say? He was.

  Epilogue

  Five Years Later…

  The back of my neck prickled with sweat, and my breaths were coming heavy and fast. I panted and called out, "Stop!" Then I rested my hands on my hands on my hips and tried to look as relaxed as possible while I waited for the two troublemakers ahead of me to come to a halt.

  Fiona stopped first. She was always the best at listening to directions, which was something Brendon tried to take credit for but was clearly my doing. Jude, the little shit, made a show of zigzagging around lamp posts with his arms flung out like he was an airplane before coming to a screeching halt in front of me. Fiona, seeing that her cousin had abandoned their game, came toddling over to my side.

 

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