“Brooks came in with his wife last night. Did you see them?”
“Yes, we talked briefly. It’s funny, but the day I found out I was pregnant, I ran into him leaving Dr. Clay’s office. He was suspicious. I was in shock and really wasn’t nice to him. I have zero clues about what he thought. You know, he did apologize to me for helping you and hurting me in the process when you had the accident.”
“Yeah, he called me after he ran into you and left a message. He was worried.”
But you couldn’t call me and check for yourself?
Suddenly, my appetite was gone. I tried not to read anything into what he said, but I can’t lie, it hurt.
Those old wounds of doubt wait for the first crack in the armor to appear, then attack.
The boys were rambunctious and Ty spilled his lemonade.
“Settle down right now or I’ll spank you and take you home,” I yelled at him.
“Easy, Chelsie. They’re just boys.”
“Boys should know how to act in public,” I bit out.
He gripped my hand hard and forced me to look at him. When I did, the tears flooded my face.
“Beauty, what’s wrong. What’s going on.”
“Nothing.” I stared at the table, trying to hide my anxiety.
“Outside?”
“No.”
“Text,” he begged.
We had an agreement to never argue in front of the kids if we could keep from it. The last thing I wanted to do was ask him why he never checked on me or why he came home smelling like a woman way after the bar closed.
“Oh, these crazy baby moods. I think I need pickles and ice cream.” I tousled Ty’s curly blonde hair.
“Mam always says that ice cream fixes everything. Sorry, Mom, I’ll clean it up.”
“Chelz?” Ian uttered softly to get my attention.
“Not here,” I whispered as I glared at him.
We ate in quiet, and I picked at my food as I sensed Ian’s continual stare on me. It was the tensest I’d been in weeks and I could tell that I’d stressed him as well. Both boys were even afraid to say or do anything and just kept glancing at me waiting for the next explosion.
So much for a nice family meal.
Ian tried to hold my hand in the car on the way home, but I kept it tucked in my lap. “Are we really behaving like this?” He asked.
I didn’t answer.
When the boys ran into the house, he pulled me back. “We promised honesty between us or this won’t work. Talk.” He propped against my new car and waited.
“It just hurt to hear you say that Brooks called you with concern, and yet you didn’t call and check on me.”
He nodded. “Totally understandable. I didn’t get the message for several weeks because we can’t have our phone in rehab routinely. They let you check messages, then they take it back. But I did talk to Jorge, which you know, and I did check on you.”
“Yes, I got mad at him about it.”
He wiped the tears from my cheeks. “So I heard. What else?”
I swallowed hard. Scared to ask the questions, fearful of the answers.
“Chelsie, just say it, please God, say it. This kind of stuff kills a relationship.”
“Yeah, well so does breaking trust. Look, I’m trying. Every single day I try to rip out my old scars and replace them with happiness, but, it’s hard when you come home late and smell like stinky perfume.”
I cover my mouth with my hands as I cried.
He started to laugh. “It was awful and when she went to hug me the last time, I told her that the fragrance she was wearing was surely going to get me in trouble.”
“Whose?” Don’t make me go ballistic, buddy.
“The mayor’s wife, Margaret.”
I started laughing too. “Oh gosh, I’m sorry.” Once again, I overreacted. “Yes, her perfume is as loud as she is, but boy can she drink. I bet the tab was big.”
He nodded.
“You and Jason picked it up, didn’t you?”
He bit his lip and nodded again.
“Babe, I’m sorry. I ruined our meal, yelled at the boys and let my trust issues creep in.”
“Next time, just ask. Don’t let issues eat you up. It’s not healthy for the baby or for us.”
Okay, I’ll try, I promise.
We cuddled on the sofa and watched a movie until time for him to leave for work. One of the bartenders had a couple of friends who wanted to interview for open positions, so he and Jason both were going to be there to interview them. The bar is closed normally closed Sunday through Tuesday, nights but they were leaving those dates open to private parties through the holiday season.
I knew having a bar was going to be busy, but I’m not sure that I’d really thought it through… Still, who was I to stop a dream…
Chapter Twenty-Two
Monday, we got our marriage license. It was funny, but when the county clerk asked Ian when we were getting married, he replied, “I have no idea.”
He and I laughed. She just shared a strange look.
“Do we have time for lunch before your appointment with Dr. Clay? ’Cause I’m starved.”
“Nope. Coffee maybe. Dude, you’ve gained more weight than me. I’m wondering who’s the pregnant one.” I laughed, he didn’t.
“She’s going to have an issue with your weight, you just watch. And when she does, I’m going to rat you out, just warning ya.”
“That’s not nice. We’re supposed to stick together.”
He pulled through Starbucks and ordered a piece of banana nut bread to go with his big cup of coffee. I just got water and watched him eat the bread in two bites. The guy had an appetite that wouldn’t go away. I wondered if that had anything to do with being off drugs and not drinking as much either?
Dr. Clay had a fit that I’d only gained two pounds since I’d been pregnant. Ian was right. But the ultrasound looked good, and she told me I could go back to routine activities. It’s not that I hadn’t been eating, it’s that we’d stayed on the go so much. Plus, our sex life was insane and that was an exercise in and of itself.
“What do you want for lunch?” Ian’s question brought me back to the moment.
“Anything Mexican.”
“So we can both die of indigestion later?” He looked at me with wiggling brows.
I laughed. “Yep.”
Hey pulled into Blue Mesa, one of my favorite places to eat. “This sound good to you?”
“You know it does.”
We sat down in a booth in the back and shared a bowl of sweet potato chips. I was full before the food came, but protective eyes were observing me from across the table. So, I stuffed myself to the point of misery.
“If you’ll eat like that every time, I’ll bring you here every day.”
“I can’t. I’m actually hurting and I’ve unfastened my pants.”
“I love your body always, but you’re even more beautiful to me carrying my child.”
Such a sweet thing to say.
“You make me beautiful.”
Back at home, we curled up on the sofa with some baby naming books and threw ideas back and forth while we waited for boys to come in. Why was picking out names such a hard task? I didn’t like anything he tossed out and vice versa. I sensed a challenge.
“It would be easier if I knew the sex,” he whined.
“What about River for a boy?” I asked.
“Might as well call him Stone,” he quipped.
“Jason would love that.”
“Forget about it.”
About that time, the boys barreled through the door with an argument in progress. Before they could get into the den, it was a full on pummeling, with Ty losing the battle on the floor.
“Hey, hey,” Ian yelled as he ran to them.
“What is this about?”
Denise looked over the boys at me. “They were fighting from the moment they were in the car together.”
“Oliver, why are you hitting him?” Ia
n pulled his son to the side.
“Because he’s been calling me gay for the last two days, Dad.” He was huffing to catch his breath.
I pulled Ty up from the floor and got in front of him on his level. “Is what he’s saying true?”
“No.” Ty stared me down. Not even so much as a guilty swallow.
“You’re sure?” I repeated.
“You’re a liar,” Oliver screamed out.
Ian held his son back from the lurch he made towards Ty.
“Ty, you need to apologize to Oliver, right now,” Ian ordered.
“But he didn’t do it, Ian.”
“Chelsie, wake up and stop babying your kid.”
Oh, that did it. How dare he talk about a kid being babied.
“Enough. Both of you boys go to your room while the adults discuss it. We’ll be in momentarily. Go.” I sent them packing.
The boys marched off, still uttering jabs at one another while Denise, Ian and I stared at one other, arms crossed. Finally, I went to the den and sat down on the edge of the recliner pissed off at Ian’s remark.
“Ty doesn’t even know what gay means.”
Ian took the seat on the sofa and leaned back, legs crossed. I sensed a one-sided discussion coming. “Doesn’t mean that he didn’t hear the word at school and repeat it. C’mon. This is typical boy stuff. He just needs to apologize.”
“I didn’t hear Ty do that, but the argument started while I was driving, so I didn’t get all of it. I’m going to let you parents figure it out. Goodnight.”
She was right to escape the burning house. I would’ve if that were an option.
“I don’t appreciate what you said about babying my kid. That was a low punch.”
“It’s true; you do.” His voice was stern.
“I don’t any more than you do.” Take one, throw one. Typical fight mentality.
“You’ve obviously got pregnancy brain. Open your eyes.” He leaned forward.
Get any closer and I just might hit you.
“Go to hell,” I yelled and went to the kitchen.
Ian went outside and left the boys in their rooms. Out of the four of us, I’m not sure who was the angriest. He attacked my parenting, his son attacked my son, we weren’t on the same page. Not even close.
I finished my pasta primavera and set the table for dinner. It wasn’t exactly a mealtime that I was looking forward to.
The only way to get the family back on track was to get the boys to talk. I started with Ty first. He swore up and down that he didn’t call Oliver gay.
“Have you called him any name at all?”
“No. He’s been hitting me and telling me he will beat me up if I tell. Look at my back.”
When he pulled his shirt off, I could see bruises in various shades of healing.
Oh gosh. What now?
“There’s always two sides to a story and no one is without fault. What did you do?”
“Well, maybe I said he was a pillow puffer because he couldn’t throw the football.”
“A what?”
“Pillow puffer.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know, it’s just a word I heard at school.”
Oh, dear Lord.
“You will apologize to him in a minute for that. But you are grounded from your games, parties or anything fun for a week. Do you understand.”
“Yep.”
“Ty Peterson, you will show some respect to me. Yes, what?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I want you to know just how disappointed I am with you. After dinner, you’ll get your bath and go directly to bed. There’s no excuse for this.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I went to see Oliver next. He was punching his fist into his pillow when I opened the door. Ian had told me he was bullied in California and I see how he was reacting to the bullying in his own home. I hated that for him, but he’s doing some bullying of his own.
“I’m really sorry for what happened here. But, I want you to know that when something like this happens, you can always talk to me.”
Oliver just stared at me from his place on the bed. I approached him and knelt in front of him on the floor.
“Any chance you can tell me why you’ve been hitting him?”
“I haven’t,” he defended himself.
“He showed me his back, Oliver. Do you know what bullying is?”
“That’s enough,” Ian’s deep voice penetrated over me.
I turned to see a very angry dad standing in the doorway.
“Oliver, get some clothes in your bag and I’ll take you to Mam’s.”
I studied Ian. His demeanor was that of the protective dad, the one who runs. “Just like that, you’re going to let him spend the night over there?”
“We both are.”
“I see how it is.” I brushed passed him in the small hallway between the two rooms.
He pulled on my arm. “Chelsie.”
“Don’t pull on me. I’ll meet you in the kitchen and we can talk there.”
“No, Oliver and I are leaving.”
I stared him down as Oliver brushed past me in the tight hallway space. “If you leave, remember my promise—I will not chase after you and don’t expect an open door to return.”
“We just need to cool down, both of us. I need some space.”
As he headed towards the garage door, I bit back my tears and held on to my pride. I was done with begging.
“Fine, go find your space. I’m going to find a life for my children and me without you.”
Like a coward, he walked away again…
Chapter Twenty-Three
Days were dragging by and our paths did not cross. I didn’t venture down to the bar and Ian didn’t come to the shop even though we were just a block apart. The pain of watching him drive away hurt once again as raw as him leaving me the first time
He wouldn’t listen.
He didn’t even ask questions.
He was cruel in judging me, putting down my parenting and putting down my son all at the same time.
“Talk to him,” Izzy begged. She propped on the edge of my desk.
“No. He was very hurtful. He owes me an apology. He’s the one who left, he can be the one to crawl back.”
“Chelsie, we all make mistakes. It was a tense parenting moment. It won’t be the last one. Hell, they aren’t even teenagers yet.”
Gah wasn’t that the truth.
I picked up my purse and gave her a hug. “I have errands to run. I will see you tomorrow.”
For fear of Denise thinking she was on a yo-yo, I let her continue her normal routine of caring for Ty. He’d been depressed with the whole episode as well.
If only we could reach a compromise.
I realized how stubborn Ian was a long time ago, I simply didn’t think we were going to split up over something like this. We were two educated adults and wanted the best for our children. This was silly.
* * *
When I arrived at Margie’s house, I replayed the argument with Ian. I yelled at the kids—yet again. I told Ian to go to hell. Nothing gets solved when people raise their voice with disrespect. The stress became insurmountable—something had to give…
“You came alone today?”
“Yes, for good reason.” I followed her to a small little sitting area off the kitchen. “Ian and I aren’t speaking.”
She leaned back in the chair. “Do you know or understand why?”
“We disagreed on an altercation between our boys. We each accused the other’s child and attacked each other’s parenting skills, turning on each other before he walked out—again.”
“You do realize this happens in normal familial situations every single day. But, step-parenting is so much tougher. Communication is gold.”
“I know. I yelled at him and he took his son and left. Right now, I think both of us are acting more childish than our boys. But Margie, I’m tired of all the stress.”
> “He ran again. Your biggest fear.”
I nodded.
She waited.
“I’m not sure I want to beg him to come back.”
I thought a lot about that word, beg. Before we reconnected, I was all over the place with what I wanted with Ian. But in the end, I just knew I had to be with him and that no matter what happened, we could deal with it. Yet these trivial issues were keeping us apart and continuing to whittle away at our love.
We were nowhere near solid ground.
“My advice is going to be all about communication. It has to happen for any kind of resolution. If you’re waiting for a grand apology, that’s just schematics. If you want a relationship with Ian, you have to talk to him. Does it really matter who breaks their silence first?”
* * *
My drive home was filled with twisted and turning thoughts. Clearly, I loved him. Sometimes love just wasn’t enough. I didn’t want to spend another day without him beside me, but at the same time, I wouldn’t spend another day being accused of poor parenting. Ty and I had a pretty normal life before Ian and Oliver Briggs stepped into. Yet the last year had been more hell than heaven.
I had an unborn child that deserved parents, but I remember Mom’s words when I got pregnant with Ty, “Babies don’t make relationships.” Those were hard and fast words. I practically raised Ty by myself because Carson was always too busy, too tired or too intoxicated.
Why do I always pick men who can’t commit for the long haul? Why did love have to be so painful?
Life doesn’t follow a script…
I made my decision. I had to let Ian go. Go be the person he needs to be without me. Go live his life wherever his happy.
I wasn’t the one for him…
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ian
“Fighting with her just rips me up, man.” I put my beer on the bar.
“Haven’t you heard the age-old advice, ‘woman’s right, man’s wrong?’” Jorge snickered, then took a swig of his beer.
Captivated On 5th Avenue: Book 3 (5th Avenue Romance Series) Page 12
