by Sy Walker
“Oh my god, this is so WEIRD!” Summer said, laughing and crying at the same time.
“Congratulations,” Rose said, laughing and clearly so happy for her best friend. “You should schedule an appointment at your gynecologist pronto. In the meantime…” She suddenly looked at Summer with a more serious expression. “You need to tell Eric. It doesn’t take Sherlock Holmes to know that it’s Eric’s baby.”
Summer sighed and nodded a little. “I know. The problem is I don’t know where he is. It’s been nearly three weeks since I last saw him. Nearly a month. Who knows what he’s up to now or if he’d even have any interest in me or our baby.”
Rose looked like she wanted to say something but was holding back.
“What?” Summer asked her, prodding her a little with her shoulder. She had a feeling that she knew what her friend was going to say. Or, rather, ask.
“If it’s okay for me to ask now, why did you two break up?” Rose asked, predictably. “You seemed so happy together. You were always telling me about how sweet he was. What happened?”
Summer felt so conflicted about him now, about everything. She had kicked him out of the house without really listening to him. She had flown off the handle. True, he had stolen. He had committed a crime. He was probably a wanted, at large person. And that was troubling, to say the least. But he promised that he’d never do it again, and she’d sent him away.
What if he’d fallen into a life of crime because she had kicked him out and broken things off with him?
“He… stole some things,” she said hesitantly. “Not from me. It was in the past. But something boiled up inside of me when he confessed that. I didn’t want to be dating a criminal. I’ve had enough of assholes.”
Rose’s eyebrows went up. “Well… Did he kill anyone?”
Summer chuckled bitterly. “Not that I know of.”
“I think if he confessed, there’s nothing for you to worry about,” Rose said. “As long as it wasn’t his job or main hobby or anything.”
“Oh no, he seemed pretty remorseful. And that’s kind of how I’m feeling now,” Summer said sadly. “He told me that he was planning to rob Cabbages and Kings, until he met me there and I changed his mind.”
Rose nodded decisively. “You need to call him.”
Summer sighed again and gingerly touched her tummy, wondering what her tiny, unexpected baby looked like at that moment. “I would if I could, but he doesn’t have a cell phone.”
CHAPTER FIVE
I’m Happy, Hope You’re Happy Too
Not wanting to take another day off from work so soon, Summer went to visit her gynecologist after work the following day. “What seems to be the trouble?” Dr. Paulsen asked pleasantly.
“I realized I was late, so I took two pregnancy tests,” Summer explained. “And they both came out positive… I was under the impression that I couldn’t conceive and have a child of my own.”
The doctor smiled at her. “Oh, that’s great news! There’s really never a never when it comes to pregnancy, unless you’ve had your uterus or ovaries removed. Polycystic lowers your chances by a lot, but it doesn’t make it completely impossible. Let’s see.” She took out a cup and a pregnancy test. “Please take this into the bathroom and fill up to this line. Then bring it back.”
Summer took the cup into the bathroom. The problem was she didn’t have to pee. She had a hard time making herself pee on command in these situations. Images of Niagara Falls came to mind, but she struggled to get anything to happen. Closing her eyes and through sheer force of will, she managed to get just enough urine out of her and into the cup, just reaching the line of red marker.
She carried the cup back to the doctor, feeling proud of herself and silly because of the reason. Dr. Paulsen took the cup from her, carefully, and placed it on the moveable table that contained an array of medical instruments that Summer hoped the doctor wouldn’t be using on her. Ripping open the pregnancy test package as if it was nothing, Dr. Paulsen plopped it into the cup.
“How many partners have you been with?” she asked as Summer lay down on the uncomfortable table with stirrups. “Any risks of STDs?”
Summer thought it over carefully. She hadn’t used a condom with Eric. That had been the only time… “I’ve been with four partners in my life. I’ve only been without a condom once. And… Tada.” She laughed a little. “I’ve been tested before and everything was fine.”
“Do you want me to test you again?”
She shook her head. “I’ll talk to my… I’ll talk to my most recent partner about it. I am going to have a lot to say to him.”
The doctor smiled and wrote something down. Then she lifted up the pregnancy test to look at the results. “You definitely need to tell him that he’s going to be a father.”
How does one find someone when one doesn’t have their phone number, email address, or anything? Summer suddenly realized that she barely knew the young man that she had fallen for. They’d had a great night, a hot night of passion, and had started to form a sweet life together and she never asked him for a way to contact him. It had satisfied her to know that he’d be waiting for her at home and, if he did leave for a while, he’d come back like a loyal pet, ready to be fed and sheltered again.
God, I’m so stupid.
Then, suddenly, she remembered one piece of info that she did have. His motorcycle club. “What was it called again?” she asked aloud, with no one around to answer her or even offer up a suggestion.
It was something about stars. The Celestial something… The Celestial Sentinels!
A quick Google search led her to their website. She chuckled. It was wild to her that a group of guys with motorcycles had a website. They took donations and had membership fees and everything. “Wow,” she said under her breath, shaking her head.
She spotted Eric in one of the group shots. He was smiling at the camera, his cherubic face so familiar and handsome. He was a great deal younger than several of the others, but that just made him stand out more. Vice President Eric Daniels.
The only phone number listed on the page was for the club as a whole. It looked to be a membership information number. Summer plugged it into her cell phone and pressed ‘call.’
After fifteen minutes of listening to a garbled Eagles song that served as hold music, someone finally came on the line. “Celestial Sentinels,” a gruff, older male voice said.
“Hi,” Summer said, suddenly feeling nervous and doubting that this would even work. “I was wondering if you’d be able to help me. I know a member of your motorcycle club and I need to get into contact with him. Do you know how I could reach Eric Daniels?”
The man suddenly became more friendly-sounding. “Oh, Eric? He’s just started in some new band, last I heard. The Pink Hearts.” He rattled off an email address and Summer quickly wrote it down.
She wrote an email, hoping that this would be the right course of action.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Hello, this is strange but I’m hoping you can help me out. I’m trying to get in touch with Eric Daniels. I was told he’s in your band. This is Summer.
She couldn’t believe she had let him get away. Especially now that she was pregnant. And now it might be too late to get him back.
There was no response to her email.
The next day, she went to work. It was another concert night. It was also the last time she’d have to see the Easter decorations that she’d slowly but surely gotten sick of. A music venue slash bookstore was no place for the cheesy decorations that looked more like something a person would see in Hallmark.
This time, she had to start out as a waitress, working the floor as the open mic night bands set up. Joy. She was just giving a table their welcome and specials spiel when she looked up and saw the name on the drum kit.
The Pink Hearts.
Her jaw dropped nearly to the floor. A shiver went through her.
“Miss?”
one of her diners asked, looking at her like she’d perhaps gone psycho.
She shook her head, trying her best to remain calm. “And, finally, my favorite, the lamb burger. I’ll give you guys a few moments to look over your menus. Can I start you off with any drinks?”
When she brought her table back their drinks, she took her time, hoping that by lingering she’d be able to see this open mic band take the stage. How long had Eric been in a band? Had he quickly cobbled it together in the weeks that followed their breakup?
Suddenly, the name made sense. The red shirt she had worn, with the small, pink heart on the chest.
Summer brought a hand up to her chest, over her heart. Her cold and jaded feelings about the restaurant, Valentine’s Day and everything melted away from her. She could forgive him for his law-breaking. She had forgiven him.
He came onto the stage, carrying a sparkly red guitar. He messed with the mic and Summer caught his eye. The left corner of his mouth rose up a little and he smirked at her. “Hey,” he said into the microphone. His voice reverberated through the mostly empty restaurant.
Not caring anymore about her table or appearances, Summer carefully climbed up onto the front of the stage and stood in front of him for a moment. They looked at each other. His sandy hair had grown shaggier, but otherwise he appeared pretty much the same. She didn’t imagine that she struck him as looking different either. She brought a hand to her lower belly for a moment, then leaned into him and wrapped her arms around him in a hug.
Eric readily hugged her back. A whiff of pine-like cologne filled her nostrils. He felt strong and sturdy against her, as he had all the times she’d ridden his bike and clung to him for safety. Even now, she was clinging to him for safety. But there was something else, too.
“I’m sorry,” she said into his neck. “I’m so sorry. I’m so stupid. You… I’ve missed you.”
He pulled away enough to look into her eyes. He was still smiling.
Getting up onto her tiptoes, she kissed away his smile.
“I’m pregnant,” she whispered into his ear.
His big, brown eyes got even bigger. “But I thought you couldn’t…”
Summer shrugged, smiling at him. “Apparently, there is no never.”
Grinning a large grin that matched his large eyes, he hugged her gently. “That’s incredible,” he said. “You’re incredible. Baby…” He suddenly looked over and noticed that the crowd down below was still waiting. “I’ve got to sing now, baby, but stay right here. The first one’s for you.”
Leaning forward towards the microphone, Eric spoke in a sexy growl she instantly wanted to hear more of. “It’s a privilege to sing for you here tonight on this stage. This is the place where I met Summer. And this is a song that I learned and wanted to play for Summer. And now… Here she is and here it is.”
She walked away so she was still on stage, but more to the side so she could watch him play and be near him. She was mystified. He’d mentioned wanting to be a roadie and now, here he was, a fledgling rock star before her eyes.
Love is the opening door
Love is what we came here for
No-one can offer you more
You know what I mean
Have your eyes really seen?
He played a four-song set, joined on the stage for his last song by two other guys: a bassist and a drummer. They were close to his age and Summer wondered if he had met them in his club. The small band played sweet covers of classic rock love songs.
When their set was done, he came off stage to meet her again and greeted her with a kiss.
“Do you live in New York now?” she asked him, her voice thick with emotion. She had a feeling that if she didn’t speak up now, she might lose him forever and never get another chance. New York City was not so far away from Philly, but she didn’t want him to be far away at all. It had been confusing and messy for her at first, but she knew now that she and Eric belonged with each other. There had been way too many signs along the way for her to be wrong in that.
“I don’t really live anywhere,” Eric replied, giving her a sweet and sexy smile. “I live in a van mostly.”
“You live with me,” she said. “Please come home, Eric. I don’t care if you rob the national treasury.”
He laughed. “I don’t rob places anymore. I gave that up after that one time. Now I mostly just rob people by making them pay to hear my bad playing.”
She leaned in and pressed her forehead against his. “Come home and be with me… and our baby, eventually,” she pleaded. “I overreacted because I was scared.”
Eric shook his head slightly. “You overreacted because you didn’t want to be hurt again,” he said. “I don’t blame you for that. I don’t want to hurt you…”
“You won’t,” she said, kissing him and keeping her face close to his. “You won’t if you stay,” she whispered.
He gazed into her eyes. He clearly worried about her feelings. “You want me to stay with you again?”
Summer nodded. “It’s where you belong.”
He kissed her lips, gently gliding his tongue along hers. Unless she was mistaken, she felt a rush in her tummy as though their miracle baby was responding to the kiss, too.
“Come on then,” he whispered. Taking her hand, and with his guitar slung over his back, Eric led Summer outside to his waiting motorcycle.
After he got the helmets out, she surprised him by climbing onto the large bike all by herself. She looked at him, biting her lip expectantly, and patted the seat in front of her.
“Let’s go home.”
THE END
RETURN TO TOC
Rebound with the Biker
“We need to talk,” Zach told Allie over their dinner.
Uh oh. That particular phrase usually did not begin a good conversation. Allie Reynolds and Zach had been dating for two years. They were out to celebrate their anniversary. After barely surviving her teen years, Allie felt as though she’d finally found the one. But now, she guessed, he disagreed.
“This past year has been great,” he went on.
If it was so great, why are you dumping me?!
“But honestly, my heart’s just not in it anymore. I can’t be your knight in shining armor. I can’t go on feeling as though, if I should do anything wrong in any way, you might relapse.”
Allie shook her head quickly. “Oh, no. Zach, it’s not like that. I don’t need saving. I didn’t even know you felt like I did.”
He frowned a little at her. “Allie, when we met, you were a mess. If you weren’t high, you were drunk. If you weren’t drunk, you seemed pretty depressed… I know, underneath all of that, you were just scared. But I can’t be your rock for you any longer. You rely on me too much and it’s… stifling.”
Slowly moving her eyes down to focus on the checkered table top, she could feel the tears rushing in.
“Do you understand?” he asked her. His voice was so gentle and caring. She couldn’t believe he was doing this to her, on their anniversary of all days!
“I don’t,” she replied.
Zach patted her hand. “Well, you will,” he said. He stood up from the table, abandoning his plate full of the remnants of burger and fries. Abandoning her. “In time, you will. Let me go pay the check. I’ll see you around, Allie.”
That statement was such a lie. “No you won’t,” she said under her breath. He was going out of her life. He was leaving her. After she had come so far and they’d been so happy, he was leaving her.
Allie pushed her plate of food away from herself and left the diner. She hadn’t cleaned her plate as well as he had, but it didn’t matter. Like hell was she going to just sit there alone, with all of those judging eyes of the other diners now on her. She threw her coat over her shoulders and went out into the chilly late February air.
Underneath her long but slightly thin coat, she was wearing a little black dress, her short brown hair in a bob with bangs swept across her brow in a slanting style. In her blue ey
es, she wore contacts and they were now stinging as they mingled with her tears.
They had arrived by Zach’s car. Now, without him, she would have to walk home.
What an asshole.
Thankfully, the restaurant was not too far from her Portland apartment. It was not exactly a city meant for walking, but there were crosswalks and walk signs. She’d be all right walking home, provided the drivers were paying attention and there were no scary homeless guys to jump out of the shadows at her.
When she was a user, she’d spent a lot of time out and about. It was how she found dealers and how she made friends, strolling the streets and chatting with fellow patrons of nightclubs and bars. Now that she was out of that realm, Allie wanted to stay out. In fact, she was starting to think that a change of scenery wouldn’t be so bad.
When she finally trudged through the doorway into her apartment, she collapsed onto her black couch-bed, letting her heavy metal front door slam shut on its own. Now that she was alone, safe at home, she sobbed into her pillow. “That asshole!” she yelled, punching at the back cushion of her couch. She’d left the bed unfurled. The last time she’d been on it, that morning, she and Zach had made love. She was so fucking happy.
Now she wanted to burn the couch-bed and anything else he’d touched in the place. They hadn’t lived together. She was glad of that now, because there wasn’t going to be any kerfuffle with the landlord. But everything just hurt now. He may not have lived there with her, but he had been there so often that he may as well have.
She even missed the random piles of clothes that he would leave everywhere.
Allie didn’t want to let herself be sad and mopey about Zach. She didn’t want to give him the honor of making her feel like shit. She decided she was going to take action and move on right then and there.
It had been many years since she’d last done it, but she got out her phone and logged onto a dating app. She was going to find someone to hook up with. A rebound would be good for her. She could take her mind off of things. She could be with someone again, someone who made her feel good and someone who wouldn’t expect her to be there afterwards. Sex without the commitment of years.
