by M. H. Soars
There’s no point in dwelling on endless questions. I need to know if I’m pregnant or not. All these symptoms could also be related to stress. The problem will be hiding my suspicions from Oliver until I’m certain.
I only manage to sneak into town to buy a pregnancy test in the afternoon. Hiding my worry from Oliver was easy enough; wrapped up in his misery, he didn’t think anything was amiss when I gave him one-worded answers to his few questions.
I asked Linus, the family’s driver, to take me to a big supermarket chain, not wanting my intentions to be obvious. He parks in front of a superstore, the kind that sells everything. Perfect.
As soon as I walk in, I see the sign pointing to the pharmacy. I grab a shopping basket and throw random shit in it as I make my way to where the pregnancy tests should be. My hair is hidden under a woolen hat, and I hope the thick scarf wrapped around my neck and covering my chin grants me some anonymity. I’ve only been recognized once, but considering Murphy’s Law, the day that I’m on a furtive mission will be the day a fan will spot me.
I stop in front of the shelf containing all kinds of pregnancy tests, and I’m at loss. There are so many of them. Which one should I get? Since I don’t want to make the trip back here, I grab several. It won’t hurt to take multiple tests to be sure; I won’t see a doctor until I return to Cali, after all.
At checkout, the cashier looks at the pile of tests, then at me. “You really want to know, huh?”
I ignore him. It’s none of his damn business. I shove them all in my oversized bag, afraid someone else will notice how desperate I am. I pay in cash, not waiting for the change. I need to get out of here.
Linus is waiting for me just outside the store. Once I slide back into the car, he asks if I got everything I needed. Yes, and then some, I think sarcastically.
When we’re about two minutes from the house, I text Oliver, asking him what he’s up to. He says he’s meeting with the funeral director and won’t be done for another hour. Feeling guilty for not helping him at all—even if that was his choice—I offer to come by. He says his mother is there and he wants to spare me the displeasure of her company. Bless his heart. Even when deep in his grief, he still has time to worry about my well-being.
Instead of being relieved, all I get is more anxious. I’m terrified to take the test. If it wasn’t so early in California, I’d call Liv.
Stop being so cowardly, Saylor.
Felix is sleeping in front of the TV when I walk in. He raises his muzzle when he hears me, then promptly shuts his eyes again. Good. In my jittery state, I don’t have the mind to play with him.
My body is shaking as I lock myself in the bathroom. God, I never thought I’d be doing this. Thanks to the story of my conception, I’ve always been so careful when it came to sex. Granted, my situation is completely different than my mom’s, but still, I’m unprepared to deal with a pregnancy.
Twenty minutes later, I’m sitting on the toilet seat, staring at all the white sticks that show the same result.
Positive.
I’m pregnant.
Well, prepared or not, here it is. Now I can start to really freak out.
A knock at the front door has me jumping. My heart gets lodged in my throat as I hastily shove all the test results in the cupboard under the sink.
Schooling my expression, I open the door to find Gilbert there. To say this is a surprise visit is an understatement. I even forget all the positive pregnancy test results in the bathroom for a second.
“Did something happen?” I ask.
“May I have a word with you?” The usual condescending tone he uses with me is gone. His eyes glimmer with a sadness I didn’t know he was capable of feeling. Adeline clearly touched everyone’s heart.
I move out of the way, letting him in. My eyes immediately drop to the small wooden box Gilbert carries in his hand. Without turning to me, he says, “I can’t believe she’s gone.”
“Me neither.”
His eyes fix on nothing, as if he’s stuck in his head or perhaps a memory. “I had just spoken to her the evening before.”
“Were you the last person to see her alive?”
Gilbert turns to me, frowning. “No. Harry came by the house. He was the last person she spoke to.”
I don’t know why but a terrible feeling sneaks up my spine, making me shudder. Where is this sense of doom coming from?
Swallowing the sudden lump in my throat, I say, “You said you needed to speak to me.”
“Yes. Before Harry came by, Adeline called me into her room. She gave me this box and told me to hand it over to you in case something happened to her. It was almost like she knew her time was near.”
“Do you know what’s inside?”
Gilbert’s expression twists into a frown. “Of course not. I’m not a prying man. Whatever is inside this box is meant for your eyes only.”
He sets the small container on the coffee table before veering toward the door.
Before Gilbert leaves, I blurt out, “What do you think about Harry?”
My out-of-the-blue question makes him freeze mid-step. If possible, it seems his somber expression turns even darker.
“I know my opinion doesn’t matter. I’m only the help, after all.”
There’s no mistaking the bitterness in his tone.
Now that the question is out, I press on. “If I asked it’s because I want to know.”
He watches me for a couple of seconds, his beady eyes unreadable, before he finally continues. “There’s something strange about him.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m very good at reading people. I can tell he’s hiding something. She never said it aloud, but the way Adeline talked about Harry was enough to tell me she also had reservations in regard to him.”
A terrible suspicion takes hold of my heart, squeezing it so tightly I have trouble breathing.
“Gilbert, you don’t think Harry had anything to do with her death, do you?”
His eyes widen for a second right before he flattens his lips into a thin white slash. “I don’t know.”
Not the answer I wanted to hear. If he doesn’t know, it means he has doubts, that he’s considered the possibility. Gilbert walks out and I’m left battling my dark thoughts. I turn to the box, sitting there on the table so innocent and cute, but I’m terrified of opening it now.
I grab it with a jerky movement. No sense in postponing this, and I might as well do it while Oliver is away. Inside I find a vintage gold watch and a letter. Setting the box aside, I tear the sealed envelope as my heart begins to gallop at full speed.
* * *
“Dear Saylor,
I hope you never get to read this letter. If you do, it means I never got to talk to you in person. It’s my own fault. It took me too long to accept what my heart had been trying to tell me from the start.
I’m afraid we’ve welcomed a wolf in sheep’s clothing into our midst. The signs have been there all along, but it wasn’t until very recently that I got the proof I needed.
The man posing as my grandson is most definitely not Harry. I know this now without a shadow of doubt, but I’m weak and old. No one will believe me. I’m leaving that task to you. You must protect the family from this usurper, and most importantly you must protect Oliver.
I don’t want you to doubt my words, so I’m giving you a way to know the truth for yourself. The watch inside this box belonged to my late husband, Oliver’s grandfather. It was the possession the real Harry coveted the most when he was little. I promised him he would inherit it when he was older. Wear the watch and make sure the usurper sees it. When he doesn’t recognize the heirloom, you’ll know the truth.
It saddens me that we didn’t have much time and that my final gift to you is this burden. For that, I’m truly sorry. I couldn’t have wished for a better partner for my grandson. You are his lighthouse guiding him home in stormy weather. You are his entire universe. Take care of him for me.
Love,
Adeline”
* * *
I read the letter again through blurry eyes. And again, and again, hoping I’ve understood her wrong. It’s futile. Her words won’t change; her accusations won’t change.
I fold the letter and put it back in the envelope, knowing I can never let Oliver read it. I fold the envelope into a tiny square and shove it into my jeans pocket, then glance at the watch.
Oh, Adeline. What did you ask me to do?
Forty
Saylor
I don’t get to wear the watch in front of Harry to see his reaction. I fall ill instead.
After I read Adeline’s letter, I’m taken over by extreme exhaustion and go back to bed. I wake hours later with Oliver shaking me slightly. My entire body aches, my skin clammy and hot to the touch.
“Sugar, talk to me.”
“Ollie, what time is it?”
“It’s almost six.” He puts a hand against my forehead. “Shit, you’re burning up.”
“I feel like I’ve been run over by an eighteen-wheeler.” My voice is hoarse, my throat burning. It almost seems like Adeline’s letter was cursed with the worst jinx imaginable.
“Let me see if I can find a thermometer and get you some painkillers.”
Oliver disappears, returning a moment later not with what he went in search for but one of my pregnancy tests.
“Saylor, what’s this?” The glow from the lamp casts strange shadows on his face, making the V between his eyebrows more prominent.
I open my mouth but no sound comes forth. I could be delirious from the fever, but it doesn’t sound like Oliver is overly enthusiastic about what that stick means. Closing my eyes, I roll onto my side, giving him my back. I can’t deal with his rejection right now. The mattress dips behind me as he sits on the bed. Touching my shoulder, he rolls me over again and searches my face.
“You’re pregnant?”
I nod as hot tears roll down my face. I don’t know why I’m crying.
He touches my wet cheek with the tips of his fingers, frowning even more. “You don’t want to be pregnant?” His question comes on a choke, as if it pains him to ask.
“It’s not that.”
“Then why are you crying?”
“Because I didn’t mean to get knocked up. It’s the worst possible timing in the world, and I’m sorry for no—”
“Shut up.” He takes my face between his hands. “I don’t care about the timing. This is good news, sugar. Don’t ever apologize to me about it. You didn’t make this baby alone.”
This baby. Oh my God. He just made it so much more real. There’s a tiny human growing inside of me. I’m going to be a mom. Oliver is going to be a dad.
In that moment, everything that Adeline revealed comes crashing down on me.
I cry harder, terrified of what the future holds. What if I can’t find prove that Harry isn’t Harry? What if I discover he’s somehow responsible for Adeline’s death?
“Please don’t cry, sugar. We’ve got this. It’ll be okay.” He kisses my forehead before placing a soft peck on my lips. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.” The lamplight shines on his wet cheeks. “You’re crying.”
He lets out a shaky laugh before wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt. “I’m so fucking emotional these days.”
“You have reason to be. So many things have happened in such a short period of time.”
He shakes his head, then glances at my flat stomach. “This is surreal. I can’t believe we’re going to be parents.”
“If it’s okay with you, I want to keep the news between us. At least until we confirm it officially.”
“Okay.” He places a warm hand over my lower belly. “Do you feel anything yet?”
“Right now, all I feel is ache.”
“Oh shit, sugar. I forgot all about it. I found the pregnancy test and got derailed.”
He jumps off the bed, running to the bathroom once again and returning with painkillers. “I couldn’t find a thermometer, but I got pills for the fever. You definitely have one.” His eyes turn as round as saucers before he continues. “Oh fuck. Can you take painkillers? Do you think they’ll be bad for the baby?”
I would laugh if I didn’t hurt so much. “Relax. I’m sure you can find that information online.”
“Good call.” He grabs his cell from the side table and begins to type away, his face scrunched in concentration.
Warmth spreads across my chest despite the heavy weight there. Oliver is so stinking cute worried about simple things like that.
I wish doubts about my pregnancy were the only things we had to stress about, not whether his fake brother killed his grandma or not.
Forty-One
Oliver
Saylor was down for the count during the entire week. I was too worried when her high fever wouldn’t relent, so I caved and called the family doctor, despite her protests. A cold caused by a virus was his diagnosis. I told him about the pregnancy, so he took some blood samples as well. The result came in on Thursday—one hundred percent pregnant.
I never thought I would become a dad at only twenty-four. In fact, if it would’ve happened a couple of years ago, I would’ve run for the hills. I’m terrified, I won’t deny that, but I’m also fucking happy. My only regret is that Nana won’t be here to meet her great-grandbaby.
I come home from the last errand before Nana’s funeral to find Saylor moving around in the kitchen, wearing nothing but a tank top and shorts.
“What in the bloody hell are you doing up?” I set the groceries on the kitchen counter, removing my jacket to cover her shoulders.
“Will you quit worrying? I’m better.”
“You were still coughing last night.”
“Well, that was last night.” She shrugs off my jacket and keeps opening random cabinets.
“What are you looking for?”
“Coffee, what else?”
“Sugar, you know you can’t have coffee.”
“Fuck that. I need coffee unless you want me to commit murder this afternoon.”
“You don’t need to come.”
She glares at me. “I’m saying goodbye to Adeline.”
I raise my hands to say I’m backing down. “Okay, but you’re not having coffee. It’s not good for the baby.”
“Ugh! I can see the writing on the wall already. I’ll cease to be a person and become only an incubator.”
I stop what she’s doing to hug her tight. “You’ll never cease to be Saylor to me, sugar. In fact, I’m glad you’re not an incubator, because I have plans for you.”
“Are you putting the moves on me?” She narrows her eyes at me.
I let myself enjoy the easy banter with my wife. The day will be hard enough, and I need this moment of levity to keep me going. My lips curl into the grin I know drives her insane. “Say, are you already getting crazy horny?”
She smacks my arm, feigning being appalled. “I’ve been bedridden for five days, I look like a freaking zombie, and you’re asking if I’m already a nymphomaniac?”
“Ah, sugar, you know you make a sexy zombie.”
“Get me coffee and maybe you’ll get lucky later.”
I step back because my cock is already on board with the idea. “Why do you torture me so?”
She crosses her arms in front of her chest. “I could ask you the same thing. The doctor said I could have one cup of coffee a day.”
“Fine, you win. I’ll procure coffee while you get ready. People will be arriving by the droves soon. Nana was a popular woman.”
“Yes!” Saylor throws her arms around my neck and kisses me with a resounding smack. “You’re a good husband.”
I forget what I just said a second ago, wanting to claim my prize for the coffee before the day is over. But Saylor’s already sauntered away and out of my reach. I debate going after her, but it’s best if I control my urges. She’s still not fully recovered from her cold. I’ve gone without sex for a few da
ys; I can wait a little longer.
I return twenty minutes later with steaming coffee in my hands. Saylor’s still in our room, but the moment I say I’m home, she comes running. She’s ready for the funeral, wearing a dress Nana would’ve loved. It’s simple and black with a full skirt, but when Saylor moves, it reveals tulle in bright turquoise and purple. Mermaid colors.
She catches me staring at it and glances down. “Do you think it’s inappropriate?”
“No, sugar. It’s bloody perfect.”
“I got it a while back with Liv. I told her that if I died on the operating table, she would have to wear it for my funeral.”
A sharp pain flares in my chest thinking how close that came to pass. But I also realize something else. “Did you just remember that?”
Saylor frowns at me, confused. “What?”
“Your conversation with Liv. That must’ve happened a few days before the surgery.”
Saylor’s beautiful aquamarine eyes glint with understanding. “I didn’t even realize I was remembering. It just came to me.”
I breach the distance between us, grabbing both her hands. “One day very soon you’ll remember everything.”
She smiles at me and we stay that way, staring into each other’s eyes. By all means, today should be one of the saddest days of my life, but I can’t help the happiness that fills my heart while I stare at my beautiful wife. How did I get so fucking lucky?
Making lazy circles with my thumbs around her wrists, her pulse accelerating beneath my touch, I feel a metallic band around one. That’s new. I bring her hand up, finding a man’s watch around her delicate wrist.
I know that watch.
“Where did you get this?”
She jerks her hand away, covering the accessory with her hand. “Adeline gave it to me.”
