by Amira Rain
Seeing him made me come to a stop right on the threshold of the kitchen, maybe eight or ten feet away from the island, and Hayden looked up at me and said just a single word.
“Can’t.”
I slowly took a few steps toward him, noticing that his eyes were bloodshot, indicating that maybe he hadn’t gotten his typical hour or two of sleep the night before. “What?”
I’d asked the question knowing full well what he’d said, but I just wanted him to explain what he’d meant.
However, he hesitated before speaking again, and even when he finally did, I still didn’t know what he meant.
“I can’t, Sydney.”
With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I continued over to the island and had a seat across from him. “You ‘can’t’ what?”
Again, he hesitated in responding, dropping his gaze from my face to the onesie on the island. “I ‘can’t’ everything. I ‘can’t’ anything. I can’t let myself fall further in love with you, and I definitely can’t be a father to your baby.”
“Our baby.”
Hayden looked up at me. “I can’t see it like that. I have to keep telling myself that it’s just yours.”
Realizing that my tears of the night before weren’t quite done yet, I hastily wiped one off my cheek. “Will you at least tell me why you’re thinking how you are? Don’t I deserve—”
“It doesn’t even matter. Just know that you and the baby will be better off without me in your lives. I won’t leave you high and dry financially, though. I have a plan. I’m going to move to Southern Indiana, where a brand-new Watcher community is in desperate need of leadership. I’ll send money back to you and the baby. You can stay right here on the farm, too. As far as a leader here, I’m going to train Trevor to take over. He’s been a vampire longer than I have anyway, and I’m sure he’ll make a good—”
“Just tell me why, Hayden!”
The exclamation had just kind of burst out of my mouth, and I’d emphasized it with a light bang of my fist on the island.
Hayden, however, wasn’t moved, again telling me that the “why” of what he was planning on doing wasn’t even important. He tried to tell me this again, anyway, but I cut him off, frustrated.
“No. No, I’m sorry, but you don’t get to do this. You don’t get to just bail on your baby. You have to at least try to be a good dad, just like I’m going to at least try to be a good mom.”
“But—”
“We can do this, Hayden. Yes, the timing of my pregnancy sucked, and yes, it sucks that neither of us even had a choice about me becoming pregnant. All I can say about that is that I guess life’s just not fair. We can make things better now, though. We can have this baby, and love it, and raise it as best we can, and we can make something positive out of a situation that neither of us asked for.
Maybe we’ll even be grateful someday that what happened, happened. We have to at least try for that. Since we’re both healthy, normal adults living in a nice family home with lots of family members around to support us while we try to figure out how to care for a baby, doing anything else just seems cowardly to me.”
With his gaze once again on the tiny onesie in front of him, Hayden said nothing, and I continued, somehow feeling encouraged by this.
“Look. You don’t even have to be with me if you don’t want to. Maybe last night, with both of us agreeing to forget about the ‘other stuff’ for a while, was a mistake. Maybe we should just be focusing on our future roles as Mom and Dad, and nothing else. Then later, once we have the parenting thing down, then maybe we can get back to ‘us,’ if it still feels right.”
Without lifting his gaze, Hayden quietly scoffed. “That would never work. I’m so insanely attracted to you that I don’t think I’d last a day being ‘just’ your ‘co-parent’ now that my attraction to you has started to turn into strong feelings for you. It would at least be torture for me, anyway.”
I hesitated in responding, unable to stop myself from experiencing a little wave of butterflies brought on by what he’d said. “Well…it would be hard for me, too, but this isn’t all about us. It’s about our baby…and it’s about the fact that he or she should have both parents.”
Hayden abruptly sat up straight from his lean over the island, finally looking into my eyes. “I’m just like my father, Sydney. I’m just…like him.”
I suddenly snorted. “That’s what this is all about? You think that you’ll be a terrible father just because your own father was?”
“You don’t understand. I’m just like him. We might as well have been twins just separated by age. When I was a kid, I looked identical to how my father looked as a kid, and even when I became an adult, Mark always said how ‘uncanny’ it was that I resembled my father so much. ‘You’re a dead ringer for him at your age,’ Mark always used to say.”
“Well, just because one person resembles another—”
“That’s not all it is, though. I’m a lot like my father in other ways. Like him, I’ve always wanted to be a leader. I need it, somehow. Also like him, I’ve always taken pleasure in destroying enemies.”
“Because you ‘take pleasure’ in protecting your family and community.”
“Yes. That’s true. I do take pleasure in protecting my family and community. But sometimes, part of me just likes killing enemies for its own sake. Sometimes, part of me just likes dominating. I’ve been this way as long as I can remember. I’ve certainly never taken after my Uncle Mark. I don’t think about the ethical ramifications of ‘clearing’ a human for three days after doing it.”
“You’re still a good person, though, Hayden. I know you are. I can just somehow feel it.”
“No. I think you were right in your assessment of me the first time…when you called me a monster.”
I sighed, deeply regretting that I’d done that. “Just let me ask you one thing. Would you ever hurt a member of your own family?”
Hayden bit back a bitter-sounding sort of chuckle. “I ambushed and killed my own father in cold blood, Sydney.”
I’d momentarily forgotten about that little detail.
“Well, let me rephrase my question. Would you ever hurt any member of your own family, providing that they weren’t doing reckless, selfish things that were getting other family members killed?”
With a near-inaudible sigh, Hayden dropped his gaze to the island. “No…never. And not only would I never hurt an innocent family member, but I’d never hurt an innocent vampire, either. Case in point, before we attack a group of Warrens, I always make sure that I have proof of them hurting humans. Just the fact that they’re Warrens isn’t enough for me to take their lives.
And even when we have proof, even when we attack intending to kill them, I sometimes take mercy on their female vampires and try to have them resettled and ‘re-socialized’ in other non-Warren vampire groups around the country. The only way I kill Warren Coven women is in self-defense, if they’re actively trying to kill me at that moment.
This isn’t to say that I don’t let our female vampires go after the Warren females to kill them; I definitely do. But for those Warren women who fall back during a battle, when I see it, I tend to show mercy. I guess this is just because the act of killing a woman, even a Warren woman who I know has hurt humans, has always sickened me for some reason, and I just don’t like it.
Not to mention that same as with human men and women, male vampires tend to be physically stronger than female vampires, which hardly makes for a fair fight.”
I suddenly reached across the island and took Hayden’s hand. “You have a good heart. You do. Maybe you have a little bit of a ‘monster’ side when it comes to dealing with your male enemies, but that helps to keep your family and your community safe.”
“But—”
“You’re not your father, Hayden, and you’re not going to turn into him. Maybe you’re similar to him in many ways, but maybe you’re similar to him in all the good ways. And you’re dissimilar to him in ways that matter.
Your good heart makes you protect the people you care about…and it doesn’t sound like your dad had a heart at all, or at least not much of one.
I’m thinking that your mom had to be a kind, caring woman, because I’m thinking that you got all the things that matter from her.”
With his eyes slightly pink and shiny in light from a Tiffany lamp above the island, Hayden finally looked up at me. “She was kind and caring beyond compare. I didn’t get to know her for very long, but that’s how I remember her, and that’s how everyone else says she was.”
Becoming slightly misty again myself just to see a bit of “mist” in Hayden’s eyes, I gave his hand a squeeze. “Then, now I know for sure. Clearly, you haven’t realized it all these years, but you’re more your mother’s son than your father’s. Which means that you’ll make a wonderful dad to our baby.”
Dropping his gaze to the island once again, Hayden sighed, not looking so sure. “I know that if I were to become a father, I would love my child more than anything in the world…and it would kill me to ever hurt and disappoint them like my father hurt and disappointed me. It’s almost like the possibility of me doing that, even if it’s just a small chance, is too big a risk for me to take.”
Thinking, I didn’t answer right away. “Hayden? It’s okay to be scared, you know. It’s even okay to just say it out loud. I’m scared. There. I just said it. I was scared when the first pregnancy test I took turned up positive, and I’m still scared. I’ll probably be even more scared when our baby is actually born. I’m not going to just run away, though. I’m not letting myself. Instead, I’m just going to try to be scared and strong at the same time.
That’s what I’ve been doing. The alternative for me is likely a lifetime of regret, for either abandoning a child, or not even having the child in the first place, even though I know in my heart that I can be a good mom at this point in my life, even as young as I am.”
Staring down at the tiny onesie on the island, almost seeming transfixed by it, Hayden didn’t respond, and I spoke again.
“You can be scared and strong at the same time, too…I know you can. You just kind of have to make a choice…and then just throw yourself right into it.”
Again, Hayden didn’t respond, and I spoke in a quiet voice, almost willing him to look up into my eyes.
“You’re your mother’s son, Hayden, not your father’s…which is how I know that if you abandon our baby, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
Suddenly, as if my hand were molten lava that was burning him, he yanked his hand from mine, jumping up from his barstool at the same time.
“I have to go.”
“Where?”
“Just somewhere I can think.”
Moving in long strides, he’d already made it to the front door, and he now yanked it open and stepped outside, closing the door behind him, without another word. Not even sure if I was angry, or hurt, or sad, or a combination of all those things, I snatched up the onesie from the island and stuffed it back into the gift bag, bursting into tears not a moment later.
That day, I worked a long shift at the creamery, just because I wanted to stay busy by way of doing something repetitive, mechanical, and fairly involving as a way to keep my mind off Hayden and our discussion. This had been my thinking when I’d signed up for the long shift, anyway, telling a young woman named Karissa, who was “creamery manager” that day, that I wanted to work until closing. Things didn’t exactly turn out the way I wanted, though. Instead of getting lost in my work tasks and forgetting about Hayden, I just messed up my work tasks while trying to push him from my mind.
About a half-hour before closing, Karissa kindly suggested that maybe I knock off early and let her and another girl clean up and count the drawer, saying that a pregnant girl, even one in her first trimester, probably shouldn’t be on her feet all day. I knew the real reason that Karissa had suggested that I leave early was probably because she was just sick of cleaning up all my spills, like she’d already done, twice, when I’d accidentally let the drainage tray of our soda fountain machine spill its contents all over the floor.
I’d also forgotten to put the lid back on our continually-warmed vat of “fudge dip” sauce, making it too cool to be usable the next time a customer had wanted a dipped cone. Additionally, I’d left the cash drawer wide open and unattended at one point during the day while running back to the freezer for something, which was a big no-no. Thankfully, two elderly ladies I’d been waiting on at the time had “guarded” the cash drawer from a line of unruly teenagers behind them, one of whom tried to convince the elderly ladies that a cash drawer left open meant “free money.”
Obviously, I couldn’t blame Karissa for just wanting me out of the creamery. So, I left about a half-hour early.
Not quite ready to go back to the house and possibly run into Hayden if he was home, I took a long, detour-ish route from the creamery, running into Jen, who was assisting a few early evening customers in the strawberry field, pointing out to them which rows still had fruit, and which had already been picked clean earlier that day.
She asked if I wanted to hang out with her for a while, and I said yes; however, after just a few minutes, her usual buoyancy started to wear on me, which was unusual, and I headed for home, thinking that I was just in too un-buoyant of a mood right then to enjoy anyone’s company.
When I got in the door, I was relieved to find the kitchen empty. After filling a glass from a pitcher of strawberry-yogurt smoothie that I’d made earlier that morning, I had a seat at the island to drink it, immediately noticing something. The onesie, which I clearly remembered stuffing back in the gift bag after my discussion with Hayden, was now lying flat on the island again.
Also, there was a tiny, pale yellow knitted hat right above it. Wondering if Jen had done more baby shopping at Box-Mart that day and had just forgotten to tell me about it, I picked up the little hat, marveling at its softness. At that exact moment, Hayden came strolling into the kitchen, wearing the very smallest of smiles, like maybe he had had something to do with the hat.
Uncomprehending, I held it up to him. “What’s this?”
He responded with his smile getting a bit bigger. “It’s to go with the onesie. I thought it could be my first gift to our baby.”
Daring to hope I’d heard him right, I couldn’t speak for a moment or two. “Our baby?”
Coming around to my side of the island, Hayden looked at me with his beautiful blue eyes twinkling. “Yes. Our baby. I’ve decided to be scared and strong at the same time…which means I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to be there for our baby, and for you. And since we both have so much in common, what with us both being scared and strong, I’m wondering if you’ll let me be your boyfriend, too.”
Covering my face with my hands, I couldn’t answer him in words and could instead only nod, because suddenly, I was crying too hard.
CHAPTER 19
The next few months were some of the happiest in my life. Hayden and I fell completely in love, and became closer and closer every day, telling each other “I love you” almost every single time we saw each other. Many nights, we sat out on the porch, hand in hand, just looking at the stars, discussing our days, planning for our baby, and even sometimes, talking about our families and our different, difficult, family histories.
One night, after I’d spent the day finally going through the boxes of my stuff that my aunt had sent me, I told Hayden why I thought that my aunt and uncle were the way they were. They hadn’t always been so cold and uncaring, I told Hayden, or at least they hadn’t been early in their marriage, according to my mom.
They’d had two boys, one right after the other, she’d told me, and they “generally seemed happy” and were “generally good people.” But then, their oldest son, Christopher, was diagnosed with leukemia at age two. A month later, one-year-old Alexander was also diagnosed. Then, within six months, despite drastic medical intervention, both of their boys were just suddenly gone, dyin
g within days of each other. I’d never even met them, having been just a few weeks old at the time.
Not wanting to have any more children that might be predisposed to illness, my aunt and uncle looked into adoption but quickly abandoned the idea, telling my mom that they’d decided not to “replace” the boys. As the years passed, they never even changed the boys’ shared nursery. I discovered this one day not long after I’d moved in with my aunt and uncle, when I’d crept into a large room at the end of the hallway on the second floor and had found a nursery that looked like two toddler boys still slept there. There was a crib with baby blue sheets, and a mobile with stars and planets still hanging above it.
On the other side of the room was a small toddler-sized bed with red panels on the sides that made it look like a race car. Baskets of toys and stuffed animals filled the room, and a large collection of little metal race cars sat atop a large dresser. A nightstand next to the bed was also filled with those little cars, along with a picture of a smiling family made up of a mom, dad, and two toddler boys, standing in front of a real racetrack. The fact that all surfaces were free of dust made me think that my aunt frequently came in the room to clean, although without changing anything else.
Feeling as if I was in a church of sorts, I’d tiptoed around the room with an ache in my chest, not daring to touch anything. I had, however, stood in front of the picture of the happy family at the racetrack for a while, impulsively blowing a kiss to the two little toddler boys -- my cousins, with tears in my eyes, before turning to leave the room.
Telling all this to Hayden, I said that I’d come to think that what my mom had told me once was true.
“Instead of John and Pam’s grief giving them more compassionate hearts, they just let it turn them into complete self-centered, bitter assholes,” my mom had said, adding that she wasn’t without sympathy for them at all, but that she was just frustrated and missed the days when her sister wasn’t such a “venom-spewing, greedy little you-know-what, and it starts with the letter B. A capital letter B, in Pam’s case.” And this is what my mom had said not even knowing how coldly Pam would treat me later on.
