"But how would that get me fired?"
"Tina isn't taking the blame for all this. If she goes down, she’s going to take you down with her."
"That is not a very loving thing to say to the best friend who came all the way out here to see you."
"To see Cade."
"Come on, Fiona," Esme says, finally melting down into full desperation mode. "You have to finish your story. I need to know what happened. Especially after seeing him."
I narrow my eyes at her.
"What do you mean, especially after seeing him?"
Esme raises an eyebrow and glares at me.
"Don't try that," she says. "You aren't fooling me, Fiona. You have to get up pretty early in the morning to drive all the way the hell out here, buy some donuts, and show up at your back door, and I fucking did it, and now I'm here, so tell me the damn story."
"I don't think so –" I start. I look at her pleading eyes and know there's no way I'm getting out of this. She's here, standing on this porch, and she already knows most of the story at this point. At the very least, I can tell her the rest. "Fine. Did you at least call the office and tell them you weren't going to be there on time today?"
"Girl, I've got time. I'll make it. I have Tina picking up the donuts. You don't know what I'm capable of on the open road. I'm liable to pull some Tokyo Drift foolishness."
I nod and walk over to the glider where Cade had been sitting last night. Setting my coffee on the table, I sit down and turn to face Esme.
"Where was I?" I ask.
"He went to jail, got out, and the two of you didn't really see each other all that much," Esme says. "You said it was like you had grown up, which was just so heartbreaking."
"Right," I say. I let out a breath. "So, obviously, I missed him."
"Clearly. That man is luscious. Have you seen him?"
"Yes, I've seen him."
"Did he look like that when he was eighteen?"
"No. He was much… ganglier. I mean, he's always been… attractive."
"Fiona, he is not just attractive. The purple floral dress Aunt Penelope wore to Easter service is attractive. The weird painting I got from my great-grandmother for graduation is apparently attractive. That man makes me want to look at the Michelangelo’s David and go…" she shrugs, putting on an exaggerated, disinterested expression, "meh."
I don't want to listen to any more of Esme waxing un-poetic about Cade. It's not like I haven't noticed. I just don’t want to. The last time I was on this porch with Cade on my mind, I promised myself I would never think of him that way again. In those moments, I never wanted to think of anyone that way again. But I moved on. Life happened. I met Ellis. I fell in something that, at least at the time, felt like love. It was nothing like the deep, intense attachment I felt for Cade, and I never felt desire burn inside me the way I do now.
"That wasn't what mattered to me," I explain. "I mean, I appreciated it, obviously, but it was so much more than that. It sounds ridiculous talking about it now. We were teenagers."
"So? Juliet was only thirteen."
"And that whole situation ended so well for her."
"Have you tried to convince a bunch of people you're dead recently? If you avoid that, I think everything will be fine. The point is, it might not happen all the time, but it’s still possible to find love, real love, when you are young. Just because you were a teenager doesn't mean the feelings you had for him weren't real. I can see it in your eyes. You might say you don't feel that way anymore, but it obviously impacted you. It never really went away, did it?"
I look down at the dusty wooden floorboards to hide the tears stinging my eyes. This is one of the reasons I don’t discuss Cade or my friendship with him with anyone. It’s precious. I don’t share about it because I don't feel like anyone would actually understand. The intensity of the bond we shared was unlike anything I've ever experienced, and until now, I thought anyone who heard our story would think it was the ramblings of a mind stuck in the past, romanticizing and dramatizing an ordinary friendship. Well, friends with benefits.
"I told myself it would. That as I got older, I would forget about him, or that our time together would fade into a pleasant memory, and it would stop hurting. Every time I did that, though, it was like Cade could sense it. It was like he knew I was trying to let go of him, and he would come back into my life, and remind me of his existence all over again. Usually, it was just a quick visit or an encounter that seemed completely out of nowhere. He'd show up at my school and drive me home, or we’d somehow wind up at the same place. There was always some brief reconnection that let us know the other was alright. Until I was a senior. A few months after turning eighteen, actually."
"What happened then?" she asks.
Esme’s eyes are wide with anticipation, and I know she wishes she had a bucket of popcorn in her lap.
"That's when everything went to hell," I say. "And it happened really fucking fast, so stick with me here. It was a couple months into senior year, and I hadn't seen Cade in months. I hadn't even spoken to him in weeks. Then he showed up at my house in the middle of the night."
"Here?" Esme asks.
"No," I say. "Not this house. The one in the suburbs. That's what made it so completely bizarre. We had never hung out there together before. The only time he had been there, as far as I knew, was when he was helping Gramps with a project, and they went there to get some supplies. But that night, Cade showed up there, and he was freaked out. I'd never seen him that upset before. Even when he would tell me about his time in jail or what he'd gone through with his father, he never seemed this upset. He came inside and sat with me to talk. It took a while for him to calm down. He kept getting up and pacing around the room."
In the back of my mind, I could still see Cade's wild, flashing eyes, and the way his legs seemed to stretch as he took long strides back and forth across the small living room. I knew there was something seriously wrong, but I hadn't known what to say to him. Somehow, I knew there wasn't really anything to say, and all I could do was sit and wait for him to be ready to talk.
"What was wrong?" Esme asks.
"His girlfriend, Amy, was pregnant," I say.
Even now it was hard to choke out the words. I remember not even being able to say it then.
"Oh, shit."
"Yeah. He was frantic and angry."
"Because he wasn’t ready to be a father?"
"Because it wasn't his."
"What?"
"He told me he had been dating Amy for a few months, and that it wasn't anything serious."
"That seems pretty damn serious to me."
"You would think so, right? Apparently, though, they met when he was hanging out with some friends, and they took a liking to each other… physically."
"Oh, to be young and carefree," Esme says with a misty look in her eyes.
"You can keep that 'oh' to yourself," I say. "There is no way I'd want to go back to that time. I don’t want the word 'teen' anywhere near me, ever again. And that is the perfect example why. He had this relationship with Amy and didn't even think of me. Not once."
"And you were jealous."
"Yeah. I was," I admit. "I thought he was supposed to be with me, but he wasn't. He chose someone else. After sharing those few kisses when we were younger, it all changed for me. When he told me Amy was pregnant, it felt like someone had ripped my guts out."
"That's fairly graphic."
"It was graphic. It felt awful. I didn't know if I should be sad or angry or disappointed or worried. It was overwhelming. I knew I was supposed to think about Cade and consider how this was going to affect him, but in those first few seconds, before he told me the rest of the story, all I could think was that he shouldn't have some casual girlfriend in his life. If he was going to have a girlfriend, it should be me. If someone was carrying his baby, it should be me. But, you know, in the future. I wasn’t about the baby life then."
Esme laughs. "That sounds just like you, Fi. Tho
se are some pretty intense thoughts for someone in high school, though."
"I know."
"I don't understand, though, why did he come to you?"
"He explained that they were only casually hooking up at first, but after a few weeks of seeing each other, Amy told him she was pregnant. He wasn't thrilled about it, but he felt a strong sense of responsibility and wanted to do what was right, so he committed himself to her and his future child. He convinced himself to try and fall in love with her. For his kid."
"That might be one of the saddest things I've ever heard."
"Keep listening." She nods. "He had been trying to figure out how he was going to tell me about all this. He said that I needed to know because, in his entire life, I was the only person who loved him back as much as he loved them." Esme draws in a shuddering breath. "But, he decided he was going to wait until he knew more and would be able to tell me concrete details like when she was due. About two weeks after Amy told him, she had a doctor's appointment – and told him she didn't need him to go."
"Uh-oh. That's a red flag right there. When a pregnant woman says, 'I don't need you to come to the doctor', you know something is wrong."
"Yes. And I think he knew that, on some level. As much as Cade didn’t want to admit it, there was a little voice in the back of his mind telling him something wasn't right."
"Probably your voice."
"Maybe. Either way, he decided he was going to be there for her. He convinced himself that Amy was just unsure of the whole situation and didn't know what to do or think because they weren't really a couple. They both knew they never had any intention of building a future together. He thought Amy didn't want to force him to be a part of it, or that maybe she was protecting herself by keeping him at arm's length so when he inevitably jumped ship, she'd be prepared for it. So, he decided he was going to surprise her by bringing her flowers to the appointment. Which just so happened to be earlier that day."
"That does not sound at all like the man I just met. He doesn't look, or talk, like the type of man who has ever seen a flower before, much less purposely brought one to somebody."
"I know," I say, glancing at the window, peering inside the house in a futile attempt to locate wherever Cade is inside. "He’s changed since then. I think this was what started it."
"What happened when he got to the doctor?" she asks.
The excitement has vanished from her voice, now replaced by a tone that is almost nervous, as though she isn’t quite sure she actually wants to hear the rest of the story, but can’t resist.
"Amy was still in the waiting room when he got there, so she didn't have a choice but let him go back with her if she didn’t want to cause a scene. There were other pregnant patients there, and fathers, doctors, nurses… a lot of people who would wonder why Amy wouldn't want the father of her child to be there when she talked to her doctor. So, they went back, and she got her examination and everything. The doctor talked to her about her last period, estimated her due date, and everything seemed fine. Then the doctor said they could do an ultrasound to see if they could catch a glimpse of the heartbeat. Doc wasn't terribly optimistic because the pregnancy was so early, chances were they wouldn't be able to really see anything, but she told them it was worth a shot anyway. Well, they saw a little something, alright. As soon as that screen turned on, there was a little peanut, heartbeat pounding away for all it was worth."
Esme gasps. "Amy lied about her period! That bitch!"
I nod.
"The doctor, of course, immediately asked her about it, pointing out that she was at least a month farther along than Amy led her to believe. It didn't take long for Cade to do the mental math and realize he wasn’t the father of the baby."
"Which brought him to you."
"After what I imagine was an extended heated conversation and a few hours of him roaming around trying to wrap his head around everything, yes, it brought him to me."
"So, he found out his girlfriend was carrying someone else's baby and had tried to pawn it off as his."
"Right."
"And the two of you didn't decide right then to be together? That wasn't enough?"
I shake my head.
"After he told me the whole story, he was so drained. He fell asleep on the couch, and I curled up beside him for the night. The next morning, I made him breakfast, and we talked like nothing had happened. It was like telling me everything that happened, and just having me there to comfort him, made it all go away. He didn't even seem like the same person he was the night before. We talked about the rest of my school year, and what I was planning to do after graduation. I told him I was waiting to hear back from the colleges I had applied to for early decision, and that I wanted to triple major."
"Damn."
"I know. I was so ambitious back then. I thought the whole world was waiting for me, and everything was going to work out exactly as I wanted it to. There was never a question in my mind that things would change and I wouldn’t follow the plan I had envisioned ahead of me."
"Fuck, growing up sucks."
"I hear you."
"What did he say when you told him that?"
My heart flutters as my mind brings me back to that moment. I see Cade's vibrant green eyes gazing into mine as he tucked his hands around my face and ran his thumbs over my cheekbones. I can see his mouth moving as I describe each of his movements to Esme.
“He told me, ‘You don't have to put yourself through that. I can take care of you’."
I feel a faint tingle on my lips as I remember how it felt when he dipped his face down to kiss me goodbye.
The memory fading away, I turn to look at Esme. She stares back at me, stunned into silence.
"That did not happen," she finally says.
"It did."
"And why aren't you married with six children, and a dog, and like… a horse?"
"Because he left. Right after that, he walked out of the house, and I didn't hear from him again for three months."
"I hate you and all of your heartbreaking, romantic stories."
"You're the one who asked to hear the tale of epic disaster. This is all your fault."
"Wait… you said you didn't hear from him again for three months. That's not the end? That's not why you stopped talking to him?"
"I wish it was that simple."
Esme starts to say something, but her phone rings. Grumbling under her breath, she reaches into her pocket.
"What?" she snaps.
Ever the lady.
Her face drops.
"I didn't forget… No, I didn't… I have it on my calendar… Eleven o'clock on the thirtieth… No, it's not… No, it's not… No, it's not…." She pulls the phone away from her face and looks down at the screen. "Shit. Yes, it is. What time do you close today?... I'll be there."
She ends the call and looks at me with fear in her eyes.
"I can't listen to the rest of your story right now," she says, her voice tense and slightly teary.
"Is something wrong?" I ask.
"How strong is the police presence out here? Are there cars, or is this a sheriff and his posse situation?"
* * *
Half an hour later...
Cade walks in the front door as I'm coming down the stairs from the third time I've gone up to do something for Grammie since Esme left. He put a shirt on, and I try to ignore the flicker of disappointment at no longer being able to see his powerful muscles and intricate tattoos.
"Where did your friend go?" he asks.
"She had to leave. She was going to stay longer, but she remembered the date, and she said she couldn't afford to get caught riding dirty while reenacting Tokyo Drift."
"I have no idea what any of that meant."
"It means she forgot to get her car inspected and it expired yesterday, so she doesn't want to drive thirty miles over the speed limit with the wrong month on her windshield."
"Ah. Of course."
"What were you doing out there?" I ask
.
"Looking around. I know there's a lot to do inside, but there are some things outside that need my attention, too. That porch, especially."
Things on that porch needed your attention a long time ago, I think to myself, but hold back. That's not a conversation we need to have right now. I barely got out of the talk with Esme with my emotional stability intact. The last thing I need is to delve into it headlong with Cade.
Above me, I hear Grammie calling me.
"She's already running me around like she can't exist without me."
"I'm sure it'll be fine."
I walk around Cade toward the dryer, which has started screaming in what I hope is the end-of-cycle alarm and not a signal of impending disaster. I'm fighting the great battle of static electricity resistance between two towels and a pair of nylon underwear when I hear someone knocking on the front door. Thinking it may be Esme, either suddenly willing to be a traffic law rebel and flaunt her expired inspection or deciding to live a life on the run before her appointment tomorrow, I drop the laundry into my basket and head toward the front door. As I turn around the corner, however, I see Cade open the door, and a stranger walk into the house. He shakes Cade's hand and glances around, his eyes showing that he is evaluating what's around him.
"Hello," I say, hoping the lilt in my voice expresses the discomfort I feel at seeing yet another uninvited person walk into the house.
Both men look at me, and Cade gestures toward the shorter blond beside him.
"Fiona, this is Jace. I hired him to help with some of the work around the house." He gestures at me. "Jace, this is Fiona. Her grandmother owns this house."
"Nice to meet you, Fiona," Jace says.
I nod at him.
"Cade, can I talk to you for a second?"
Cade looks at me, a strange expression on his face, but nods.
"Yeah, sure thing. Jace, I'll be right back."
He follows me into the parlor, and I turn to glare at him.
"You invited someone to the house without asking me?"
"This isn't a slumber party, Fiona. I didn't invite him over to listen to mixtapes and eat popcorn."
Unexpected Daddies Page 33
