Because I Love You

by Tori Rigby

  The three of us sat, watching over-acted soap operas, for what felt like hours. Neil, of course, took every opportunity to comment on whose boobs were real and tried to take bets on how many of the actresses had nose jobs. Jill laughed at nearly everything that popped out of his mouth, which, naturally, fueled his narcissism. Soon, he moved into his ridiculous jokes, like the ones he’d used on me at the zoo. Jill hung on his every word until my throat burned and my jaw ached from clenching my teeth. They were flirting. Right in front of me.

  Which shouldn’t bother me. Neil and I were just friends.

  Then why did my chest hurt so much, seeing the way his eyes crinkled as he laughed with her—the same way he used to laugh with me?

  I jumped off the couch, startling them both. Neil watched me, an eyebrow raised.

  “I’m going to . . . go.” I turned and marched down the hall to the foyer before slipping my feet into tennis shoes.

  “I’m confused. Isn’t this your house?” Neil asked.

  I jumped slightly, surprised he’d followed me. He’d looked pretty engrossed in little Miss Doe-eyes over there.

  “No.” Crap. I’d answered automatically, thinking he was going to ask me if something was wrong. “I mean, yes. It’s my house. I just need some fresh air. You two make yourselves comfortable—but not too comfortable. Never mind.” I yanked open the front door and practically ran to the street.

  Neil grabbed my hand before I reached the sidewalk. Stupid long legs.

  “Hey, did I do something wrong? I can regurgitate the food, if that’s what you’re mad about,” he said.

  “What? No.” Gross. “I told you—I just need to walk.”

  “Andie, I’ve been watching you for a long time. I know when something’s wrong. Wait, did that sound creepy?”

  “Kind of.”

  “Well, I didn’t mean I’ve been watching you, like some stalker. That’d be weird. I just meant, y’know, we grew up in the same schools, so I passed you in the halls all the time, and then we dated for a month, and—man, what happened to my words? I think my brain broke.”

  I fought the urge to smirk. It wasn’t often someone caught Neil off guard. “So, what you’re trying to say is, you’ve been stalking me since you were in fourth grade.”

  “Not stalking. Watching. At school. Sometimes.”

  I bit my lip. Should I tell him it hurt to see him flirting with Jill? Did I even have a right to develop a crush on someone, given I’d become a freaking baby oven?

  Neil waved his hand in front of my eyes. “Earth to Andie. Come in. Breaker, breaker.”

  Blinking, I stepped back from him and kept my voice steady. “Seriously, I’m fine. Go inside and keep Jill company. I think she likes you.”

  Neil squinted at me but didn’t follow when I turned and walked away.

  Good. I would’ve hated for him to see the tears fall.

  chapter fifteen

  I really should’ve remembered a jacket, I thought while sitting on a bench in Donaldson Park. To me, it always resembled a small Central Park. Not that I’d ever been to New York City, but I’d seen pictures. Concrete paths twisted through grassy hills, and in the very center kids played on a large playground where I’d spent many evenings with Carter and Heather up ‘til seventh grade. Before we became “too cool.”

  I missed those days.

  My feet had taken me here, as if programmed. My mind tripped over thoughts of Neil and the baby, and when I took a second to figure out where I was, the playground was the first landmark I spotted. Longing for the past somehow found a crack in my heart, and I’d sat down. Now, I watched children play, laughing with their parents, their friends. That would be my kid, some day.

  “Andie?”

  I leapt off the bench at the sound of Carter’s voice. “Stay away from me!”

  My heart couldn’t take any more pain.

  He held up his hands. “Look, I’m not here to start anything. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

  My cheeks burned. “You’re sorry? You walked away from me, Carter. You told your mom the baby wasn’t yours!”

  His gaze was unwavering, yet I could see the pain radiating from his eyes. “I know. And I deserve all the hatred you have for me. But I couldn’t move to California without seeing you, without saying goodbye.”

  I rocked on wobbly legs but crossed my arms and glared him down. “I don’t care what you have to say. I’m glad you’re moving ‘cause I never want to see you again. Now leave.”

  Carter’s jaw flexed as he swallowed, tears building in his eyes. He reached behind him and pulled an envelope from the back of his waistband. He laid it on the bench.

  “It’s not much, but . . . I hope it’ll help.” His voice shook.

  I wrapped my arms tighter around my waist, my chest seconds from exploding. I refused to answer him, to do more than glare at the guy who’d pulled my hair on the playground, carried me to the car after my dad’s funeral—and left me standing, alone, in my backyard when I needed him more than ever.

  Carter swallowed, nodding. “Take care of yourself, Andie.” He backpedaled, tossing me a quick wave before digging his hands into his pockets and turning away.

  When his red BMW was no longer in sight, I grabbed onto the bench and fell back into my seat, unable to breathe. He was gone. He was really gone.

  Yet, I was numb.

  Eyeing the envelope like it was a bomb ready to explode, I slowly grabbed it and opened it, my fingers shaking. Inside was a $500 cashier’s check. Every ounce of me wanted to rip it up and throw the pieces in the trash. Yes, he was sure going to be repenting to his parents when they realized what he’d done, but how far did he honestly think the money would go? I’d needed him!

  I unclenched the check from my fist and stared at a signature I’d come to know so well. Heading home, I sighed, tucked the money into my pocket, and tore only the envelope to pieces instead. I was going to need every penny I could get.

  Neil’s truck hadn’t yet moved, and Mom’s car was in the garage. Oh, crap. I knew I’d lost track of time, but I didn’t think I’d wandered that long.

  Opening the door to the house, I expected a loud confrontation with my mother. But, instead, I heard laughter. With eyebrows raised, I took a few more steps and found Mom, Neil, and Jill drinking hot chocolate at the table.

  Mom spotted me first. I was frozen with my mouth hung open.

  “Andie, come join us,” she said. “How was your walk?”

  “Um, fine, I guess.” I stepped farther into the room.

  “Your mom threatened to call the cops when she found us sitting in your living room, but we convinced her we are your friends,” Jill said.

  Wonder how that conversation went. Mom really didn’t like surprises.

  “Yeah, Neil drove me home from school, and Jill came along,” I explained. “Sorry I didn’t ask if they could stay.”

  Mom waved. “Oh, it’s no big deal. I know the Andersons and the Danielsons. They’re both good families.”

  Danielson? Why did Neil give Owen’s last name?

  “Oh, wow, is it 5:00 already? I better get food started.” Mom jumped out of her chair and raced to the fridge.

  Jill stood and grabbed my hand. “Are you okay?” she asked in a hushed voice, pulling me toward the living room and away from my mom.

  I nodded, catching Neil’s glance. Butterflies shot to my knees. I turned back to Jill.

  “How long has she been here?” I whispered, nodding toward Mom.

  “Like, twenty minutes. We told her you’d gone for a quick walk around the block and kept her busy so she’d lose track of time.”

  Geniuses, both of them. Most people couldn’t pull that over on Mom.

  “Do you two want to stay for dinner?” Mom asked, peeking over her shoulder.

  “Sure!” Jill said. “Need help?” She skipped into the kitchen.

  I watched as she dazzled Mom into letting her make a salad and shook my head.

  A hand touched my lo
wer back. “We need to talk,” Neil whispered, his lips close to my ear.

  I shivered. Did he really have to do that? I was about to turn and tell him, Maybe later, but he grabbed my elbow and led me to the foyer.

  “So, I talked to Jill about what you said.” Neil slipped his hands into his pockets and stepped back, his stance effortless and casual.

  My stomach hit my feet. I tried to smile. “That’s great.”

  “Is it?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest then dropped them to my sides, unsure of what to do with the stupid things. “Well, of course. I mean, you two have a lot in common. You’re both really smart, you both have a good sense of humor—”

  “And we’re both into women.” He flashed me a smug smile.

  “Wait, what?”

  “You heard me. Jill prefers her men, well, not men.”

  “Oh.” My heart fluttered. But I shouldn’t be happy. I should be sad. For Neil. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, you’re not.” His gaze was unwavering, staring not at me but into me.

  A bead of sweat ran down the back of my neck. “Of course I am.” My voice wavered. “I’m your friend. I want to see you happy.”

  Neil stepped toward me. “Right. You think I don’t know why you left the house? I can read it in the way you stand, see it in your eyes: You’re jealous.”

  I backed away from him. “No, I’m not.”

  He smirked and took another step toward me. “We should play that card game where you try to lie about what cards you have in your hand. I’d kick your ass.”

  My pulse was in my ears, my throat. So what if I was falling for him again? I had to do it—I had to push him away. I’d decided to keep my baby. This was my choice, and my choice alone. What Carter’s mom didn’t want for him, I didn’t want for Neil. Now was the time to set him free. To stop whatever was happening between us. Even if his deep blue eyes haunted me for the rest of my life.

  “Neil, stop. I can’t—I won’t—have this conversation with you. Now or ever. We’re friends. That’s all.” I pushed past him to join Mom and Jill in the kitchen. I needed to get away from him before my nerves—and unwanted feelings—overtook my brain.

  He grabbed my hand. “What if that’s not enough for me?”

  I spun around, yanking my hand out of his. “Well, it should be, or did you forget there’s something growing inside me?”

  “I don’t care.”

  “It’s not even yours!”

  “I don’t care. Blood isn’t what makes a family.”

  I tugged on my hair. This can’t be happening.

  Mom shouted from the other room, “Andie, dinner’s going to be ready soon. Would you set the table, please?”

  “I’ll be right there,” I replied, my voice wavering. I returned my attention to Neil. “I can’t allow myself to care about you. You deserve someone better than me. I’m not worth it.”

  Neil slipped his hand into mine. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

  My bottom lip quivered. “Neil, please. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

  I pulled my hand from his, my heart twisting as the usual humor in Neil’s eyes disappeared. Turning away from him, I walked until I was about halfway down the hall then leaned against the wall as a single tear rolled down my cheek. Wiping it away furiously—Neil was watching—I took a deep breath and opened my eyes, rushing into the kitchen.

  “Sorry. I got distracted.” I opened the silverware drawer to pull out forks, knives, and spoons for four people.

  “You all right?” Mom asked.

  “Yep.”

  I set the table, avoiding eye contact with anyone. I felt Neil watching me. Jill set the salad bowl and lasagna on the table, then Mom called for us to sit. Finally, I looked up. Neil leaned against the opening between the dining room and hallway, frowning.

  “Actually, I forgot”—he stepped into the room—“I have an errand I need to run for my mom. So, sorry to bail last minute, but I’m going to need to go.” He held his hand out to my mother. “Thanks for the offer, though, Ms. Hamilton. Everything smells great.”

  Mom shook his hand. “Well, why don’t I give you some to go?”

  Neil flashed her a smile. “It’s no problem. I can take a rain check. Besides, we have so much food in our house, I doubt my mom would appreciate it if I brought more home.”

  Mom smiled, but I cringed. That was a blatant lie. He was leaving the best meal he’d get all week, and all because of me. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

  “Later, Andie,” he said with a sad smile. He nodded at Jill then exited through the garage. I flinched when the door closed. Why did I feel the same way as when Dad left for a business trip—afraid I’d never see him again? The bite hit my chest like a sting from a gigantic bee on steroids.

  “Okay, girls,” Mom said, “shall we pray?”

  When she started talking, I closed my eyes and said my own prayer. I didn’t thank God for food or friendship or whatever Mom usually asked for. I begged him to help me get through the next few months without giving in and ruining Neil’s life. Because I didn’t know if I could.

  Anxiously, I sat through dinner as Jill flattered my mother to the point of no return, telling stories of her Native American ancestors and the crazies who came into her mother’s jewelry store. For how not-hungry I was, I managed to eat two full plates before Jill announced she had to be going. The baby must’ve really wanted dinner.

  “How was your day?” Mom asked as we washed dishes.

  If I told her what really happened, she’d go on a rampage through the halls of River Springs Prep, craving blood. Instead, I stuck with, “I don’t think I’m going back. Not this year, at least.”

  Mom frowned. “I’m sorry, honey.”

  Me, too. But at least I wouldn’t have to see Neil’s handsome face every day or the way his eyes creased in the corners when his smile was 100 percent natural. Not to mention, I didn’t think I could take one more of his sister’s pranks. If it hadn’t been for Jill—and Neil—I never would’ve made it out of there in one piece.

  After I dried the last dish, I said goodnight to Mom, but she stopped me. “Before you go upstairs, we need to talk.”

  Nodding, I sat at the table. My stomach put on an acrobatic performance. Mom dried her hands and joined me, pulling an envelope out of her purse and handing it to me. On the front was a watermark from Bethlehem Family Services. My heart smacked against my ribs.

  “That’s everything I have on your birth parents. It’s not much; I know. But it’s a start. I don’t want you to be in the dark anymore about where you came from. The plan was to share this with you when you turned eighteen. But with everything that happened the other night, I’m thinking this will help give you a little closure. Are you still planning to keep the baby?”

  I nodded. My throat felt like sandpaper.

  Mom sighed. “Oh, honey.” She paused and scratched her forehead. “I still stand by my belief that you’d be better off placing your baby for adoption. You’d be surprised how easily parents fall in love with a child entrusted to their care.”

  We’re seriously having this conversation again? I was about to refuse when she raised a finger.

  “But I will do whatever I can to help you. Just don’t shut me out.”

  “Really? I thought . . . Well, I never expected you to be on board.”

  “I’m not.” She stood. “But I love you, Andrea.” Mom touched my cheek. “And so you know, not a day has gone by where I haven’t loved you like my own. Let me know what you find out about your birth parents, okay?”

  A lump caught in my throat. She kissed my forehead then wandered upstairs to take a bath. Alone, I stared at the envelope, terrified by what I might find inside. Would I be disappointed? For years, I’d always thought my adoptive-mother was stuck up and nosy, and I would’ve been overjoyed to learn I wasn’t hers. But now, I couldn’t imagine being someone else’s kid.

  Yet, if I didn’t know whe
re I came from, how could I hope to tell my baby about its family? And finding out more about my biological parents didn’t mean I was leaving or betraying the ones who’d raised me.

  I needed to know.

  Heartbeat thrashing in my ears, I sprinted upstairs, closed my door, and then sat on my bed. I opened the envelope with shaking hands. At least ten pages were stapled together. My breath caught. I should be doing this with Neil. I shook my head. No, you can do this yourself. I opened the papers.

  On top was a copy of my original birth certificate. Born May seventh in Aspen, weighing exactly seven pounds. My parents’ names and addresses were missing, but everything else about that day was listed—the hospital, the exact time of my birth, my parents’ ages, their occupations. I rubbed a hand against my chest.

  Beneath the birth certificate were forms they’d filled out for the adoption agency. Again, their names and addresses were blacked out, but everything else about them—hair color, eye color, interests, ethnicity, medical history—was all there.

  I was mostly German and looked like my mother—blonde hair, blue eyes, thin, and not very tall. She was just eighteen when she delivered me. A teenager too. My father was an athlete, and my mother loved science. They were both pretty healthy—skin cancer on my father’s side—and they were both from Aspen, Colorado. My birthplace.

  Clutching the papers, I smiled, a lump in my throat. I ached to call Neil, not because I felt helpless but because I felt hopeful. He’d understand my elation. But I couldn’t. Not if I wanted to stick to my decision to stay away.

  Not if I wanted to save him from me.

  I called Jill instead. Her voice was super perky when she answered, and I couldn’t help but grin as I told her about the paperwork. She squealed and promised we would start researching tomorrow. Although, I wasn’t sure I wanted to find them. What do you say to the parents who gave you up? But Jill was so enthusiastic; I couldn’t say no. At the very least, maybe we’d uncover more information or family history. And that’d be good, right?