"Hey," I yell, smiling as I wrap the towel back around me, "it's not the size of the boat, but the motion of the ocean that counts." I put my hands behind my head and rotate my hips, giving the guys a few exaggerated thrusts for good measure as they all razz me.
"That's not a good bit of advice coming from a guy whose dick hangs down to his knees," Talbot chimes in. I laugh along with them as I turn and wave them off, getting to my bunk and throwing myself down on it.
I don't know how long I lay there; staring up at the picture and letter Rhea had given me. I’m just day dreaming about her, in my own little world.
"Chief," Reno's voice breaks through, "it's your turn."
"Alright," I say, sitting straight up with the adrenaline rushing through my veins. I pull on a pair of Navy issued sweats and a plain Navy t-shirt, pulling my hair back as I shuffle through the family room, being once more subjected to my team's observations.
"There goes loverboy," jokes Black; his combat boots up on the coffee table as he leans back in the recliner. Everyone else laughs along with him as I make faces at them.
"Y'all are just jealous," I throw out, flipping them all off in turn as I back into the little computer room, pulling the curtain across the doorway as they start to throw paper balls and Nerf toys at me. Yes, we entertain ourselves with Nerf toys sent to us by family members and brought along from home. Don't judge.
I take a deep breath and sit in front of the twenty inch computer screen, adjusting the camera that sits on top. Bringing up Rhea's username, I press the dial and wait as the ringing sounds fill my ears. Damn, am I fuckin’ nervous as all hell.
Then, there she is, her blue-gray eyes locking onto mine in a second. As I take in her appearance, the words I had rehearsed over and over in my head are lost. She looks beautiful, although she looks like she might have been crying, but still gorgeous nonetheless.
"Hey, Babe," I finally say, my eyes never leaving hers and I see them start to tear. "Oh no, don't cry, Babe. You'll make me cry." I put my hand up to the screen and she does the same, holding it there for a minute.
"I've missed you," she says, wiping at her face with shaky fingers. "God I've missed you so much; you don't even know." Her fingers move, as if she is stroking my hand, and the urge to hold her makes my chest hurt. Every inch of my being wants to be with her, to hold her, to kiss her. Hell, just to be near her.
"Oh, I bet I do," I say, reaching out and touching the screen where her cheek is. I wish I could touch her. I can't help but just stare at her. How can this beautiful creature be mine? How can this wonderful woman, this strong woman, finally be mine?
We sit in silence for a few moments, my eyes roaming over her face. She clears her throat, breaking my inner thoughts. She finally drops her gaze from mine, and a foreboding feeling falls over me. I can tell that something is on her mind just by the way she's worrying her bottom lip and the way her eyes are downcast, her lashes fluttering quickly. Remember, I’ve been in love with this woman the better part of fifteen years. I know every little nuance and gesture. I know every look and every sigh like the back of my hand.
"What is it?" I ask, trying not to make it sound harsh.
"I have to tell you something, and you have to promise not to be mad." Her eyes peer at me through her dark lashes, and I see her mascara start to run as her tears flow silently down her cheeks.
"Baby," I say, getting closer to the screen and camera, "tell me." What could she have to tell me that is upsetting her to the point of crying? A million different scenarios run through my head, causing my heart to race. I lean closer to the screen with my elbows on my knees.
"I'm," she starts to say and then pauses, brushing the hair back from her face while I see her other hand searching for something beside her. The hand comes back with what looks like a picture in her grasp. She holds it up to the webcam on her laptop for a second, but it's fuzzy and I have no idea what I'm looking at. It's just a blur of black, white, and gray to me. Seeing her face as she pulls the picture back, I shrug my shoulders.
"I'm pregnant," she whispers, her eyes locking onto mine once more, and I know now what that black and white blur was; my child.
"You're what?"
CHAPTER TWO:
March 8, 2012
Rhea
It's only been two weeks since I found out that I'm going to have Chad's baby, and I already feel fat. How horrible is that? My reflection makes me sigh as I pull a pair of jeans on, peering in the tall mirror on the back of our bedroom door. I feel fat, but I don't look any different, and that makes me sigh a little more, my bottom lip jutting out in an exaggerated self-loathing moment.
My boss sent me home early yesterday, saying that I looked overly tired and told me to take the rest of the week, and half of the next, as paid vacation. I had argued until I was red in the face, but Jenna hadn't relented. She forced my purse and jacket into my hand and practically pushed me out of the employee door, and slammed it shut with a sweet smile and wave. My mood was lifted last night, though, because I got to Skype with Chad.
Just thinking about how over protective he is already makes me giggle as I pull on my worn out cowboy boots. Every other question was, "Are you okay, Babe?", or "Do you need anything?", or "Do you need my mom to help you with anything?" He is worried, and it makes me worry that he’ll be distracted now, so I keep telling him to relax. I am scared and nervous enough for the both of us. I don't need him to be making it worse while I try to enjoy our only form of communication and absorb every second of him that I can.
Dana, on the other hand, screamed so loud when I told her the news that I thought my ear drums were bleeding. She cried and jumped up and down, grasping my hands as she did, shaking me in her joy. It had made me cry at the time, too, seeing how happy she was. She has hugged me at least a thousand times since then. Every time I see her she has her hands on me. Whether it be just holding my hand or hugging me, her affection fills a small hole in my heart that years ago I thought would have been filled with my mother's love and affection at the news of my pregnancy.
My own mother is gone, but hopefully she is watching over me now and she can see this joyous, and scary, event as it unfolds over the next eight months. I hope Randy is watching, too, because I know he'll have that cocky ass smirk on his face, due to the fact that Chad and I are together. It makes me tear up a bit as I pull on my thin fleece jacket, thinking about how my brother always teased me when we were younger about me giving Chad 'puppy dog' eyes every time he did something nice for me.
"Oh Randy," I whisper to myself as I flick the outside light on and pull the front door closed, locking the deadbolt and hopping down the steps to my rust bucket of a truck.
It is still sort of chilly out, with the sun going down, so I turn on the heater as I start the truck up and head into town. I’m working with Kendall at Muncy's Pub tonight. Kendall, of course, was the first person I had told about my pregnancy, since she was the one who drove me to the appointment. She had almost driven her Beetle off the road, swerving and skidding in the gravel as she peered with wide eyes over at me in the passenger seat. I had made her take me to my old double wide, which she and Harlan rent from me now. The two of us were sitting down on the old couch crying when Harlan came home.
I had sworn both of them to secrecy as word spreads faster than wildfire in dry brush in a small town like Wakefield. The two of them, as well as Dana, Rosa, and my boss, Jenna, are the only ones besides Chad to know. I haven't told Brad Muncy, my manager at Muncy's Pub yet, but I am planning on it tonight, just so he's in the know. I'm going to swear him into silence as well, because I'm not quite ready for my little town to start buzzing with gossip about me yet again. The talk of my engagement to Chad is just starting to die down, and it has been a month since that happened.
I come to the town's one traffic light, and turn into Muncy's gravel lot, pulling behind the building and parking in between Kendall's Beetle and Brad's Jeep. I take another look in my rear view mirror and sigh loudly at
the slight bags under my eyes. I need to stop worrying so much and get more sleep. Rosa says that she gets sleepless too, so I don't feel so much like a freak when I ask her for advice. She is pregnant as well; two months ahead of me, and starting to show just a tiny bit. She has a doctor’s appointment next Friday, and I'm going to go with her, and then stay at her and Reno's condo for the weekend. I'm nervous and excited all at once to see what I have in store in the coming months, and she needs someone besides her obsessive mother to accompany her.
The gravel crunches under my boots and the heavy metal back door provides its usual groan as I pull it open. The jukebox is blaring, echoing through the kitchen as I say hello to the cook, Jeremy. There are only a few regulars spread throughout the bar room as I pull my fleece off and hang it on the rack of antlers behind the bar. Kendall is busy pouring a draft when I bump her with my hip. Her blonde hair is getting long, almost reaching her butt even now being with it up in a high ponytail. Her normal, natural looking tan has a slight orange hue from some bad spray on stuff, giving her a fake Barbie look. Other than that, she's the same old girl I've been friends with my entire life.
"Hey girlie." She smiles, handing the fresh draft to Mr. Taffert, who nods and tips his hat to me in return for a sweet smile from both of us. Kendall turns and throws her towel over her shoulder, lazily placing her arm over my shoulders as I dry some glasses. "Feeling okay?” she asks as she leans her head against mine.
"Yeah I feel good." Turning and setting the newly dried glasses on their racks, I look around to see if Brad is in sight. "Where's Brad?” I take a five dollar bill from Mr. Taffert and ring his beer on the register, handing him his change.
"In the office talking to Garth," Kendall replies as she moves down the bar to serve the newly seated Bruce Pierce, our local Judge. He is a round, balding, red faced man and as he nods my way I give him a small smile, heading around through the kitchen to Brad's office. I don't much like Mr. Pierce; he is a gossip monger, and I don’t have time for that shit anymore.
Walking around the large freezer, I think to myself, "What is Garth Cobb doing here so early?" It is odd, since Brad doesn’t hang out with Duke Orr and his group of friends anymore. Garth is another one of Duke's followers, tagging right along with Jesse Ludwell and Jarrod Rawlings. Normally they don't show up until nine or ten at night, but it is only half past six right now. As far as I know, Brad doesn't associate with any of them for any reason, because of the night that Duke and Chad almost got into it.
I just shake it off as a 'who am I to judge' kind of thought and round the corner, not bothering to knock on the cracked open wooden door. I push it open and immediately stop in my tracks. "What the hell? " are the only words that I can get out at the scene in front of me, and they come out in a harsh whisper.
Brad's five foot seven frame has Garth's shorter one pinned between he and his desk, both of them devoid of shirts and Garth's hands at Brad's waist; the ends of Brad’s belt in his grasp. They are both frozen, their eyes locked on me as I stare at them, my mouth agape. Their faces are only eyelashes apart, their lips reddened and swollen from obvious use, and I have no idea what to say to this. I just watch as Brad backs away slightly, letting Garth out of his grasp to grab his shirt.
"Rhea." Brad's voice is husky with a note of desire, sounding so much like Chad's when we fool around. I throw my hand up, halting whatever excuse he is going to give me.
"I don't need an explanation," I whisper, leaning against the door to slowly close it so that if anyone else passes by outside, they won't hear.
Brad pulls his worn out Virginia Tech tee over his head, covering his well-toned body, then rakes his hand through his short black hair, and I notice that he has a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. Garth's green eyes watch me in a sidelong glance as he pulls his shoulder length brown hair back into a ponytail, securing it with a rubber band from Brad's desk.
"I won't tell anyone," I say, looking between the two of them, seeing them look at each other.
"We'd appreciate that," Garth's deep, country boy voice rumbles from his throat as he straightens his jeans and fidgets a little with the buttons on his shirt.
I look at him, I mean really look at him, for the first time in years, having just basically ignored him because he ran with Duke, and his green eyes peer right back at me. He has a stocky, muscular build in his five foot four stature; his square jaw hidden behind a thick, short beard. The scar that runs across his left eye, caused by a car accident that he was involved in riding with Duke in high school, is white against his lightly tanned skin. To me, at this moment, his eyes are displaying a side of Garth I haven’t seen since we were in our early teens. Ever since he had been left at the altar a few years back by local beauty queen Ruby Slade, I have always seen Garth as an angry person, but right now, I see the man.
He gives me a sly smile as he nudges Brad with his elbow and it snaps me back to the moment. "You probably should have made sure the door was closed." I blush, leaning back against the door with all of my weight.
"Yeah, well," Brad stutters, scuffing his boot on the leg of his office chair, "you shoulda knocked." He gives me a wide smile, and I can’t help but blush more as Garth starts to laugh. I can’t help but join them as their hearty rumbles fill the small office and I let out a slight giggle.
"I did come to tell you something, though," I say, pushing myself away from the door and crossing the room.
Garth has himself propped up on the edge of Brad's desk with his legs dangling off, and he turns to face me as I put my palms on the cool metal top. Brad's brow creases slightly, and I can see the flash of concern fly through his eyes as he nods, indicating for me to continue. "I'm pregnant," I whisper, my eyes falling to the little diamond ring on my left hand. I take a deep breath, trying not to freak out like I do every time I say those words out loud.
There is a life growing within me, is all I can think when I say those words. A life I made with the man I love.
"Oh my God, Rhea." Brad's voice has a cheerful note in it as his hand goes under my chin, bringing it up so that I can look into his eyes. "That's great! Congratulations!" He pulls me to him and smushes me into his chest. He wraps his arms around me and hugs me tight, placing a handful of kisses on my left cheek. This is a side of Brad I haven't seen often. Maybe it's because I just caught him in the throes of passion with Garth, but I like it. He releases me with more kisses on the cheek, and Garth gives me a one armed embrace that I return with a good hearted squeeze.
Brad and I talk about how I'm going to need the time off when the baby comes, and he tells me to keep him informed about doctors’ appointments, and developments, and all that baby news. He makes me giggle with his frantic writing on his calendar, and Garth rolls his eyes at me behind Brad's back. The three of us head for the door after I make them swear not to tell a soul, and Garth pulls the door open for me.
"And you won't say anything," he gazes at me, looking like a scared little boy, "about us?” He motions between Brad and himself.
"No, not until y'all do it yourselves." I smile and kiss each of them on the cheek. I see a new, different side to each of them while catching them in their little moment of passion, and I giggle as they both swat me on the butt as I walk out into the bar.
More of the usual locals have wandered in for their favorite booths, tables, and stools. Kendall smiles at me as I swing around behind the bar, grabbing an order for two beers and French fries from Teddy Romans, a kid from our high school class who is now the local credit union branch manager. Handing the order off to Jeremy in the kitchen, I uncap the beers and give him his change, falling into the rhythm with Kendall, while Brad joins us and checks in on the booths and tables.
Time flies by as I talk with the people I have known all my life, serving them beers, burgers, and fries, and before I know it, it is ten after ten and Duke Orr waltzes in the door with Jesse Ludwell in tow. He hasn't been bothering me since the altercation with Chad at the end of our road back in January. Actu
ally, he's been really nice.
I'm pouring two Buds for Harlan and Garth when I see Duke wave for service. Harlan is sitting on the last bar stool, and as I round the corner he grabs my arm lightly, pulling my ear to his lips. "Keepin' an eye on you girl," he whispers and I can see him smile, "just like I tol' your man I would."
"I know, Harlan." I kiss him on the cheek, running my hand across his shoulders, and I see Kendall smile at me while she serves up a tray of shots. I can feel Garth's eyes follow me as I pass behind them, wiping my hands on the little lap apron, and smiling at a table full of rowdy, middle-aged men that all work at the local grain mill. I stop to tell them I'll be back in a minute to check on them, and they give me a loud, laugh filled reply that makes me shake my head and giggle.
Duke has on a red, grey, and white flannel, pearl snap shirt. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and the collar is ironed to stay put. I can see that ever-present Copenhagen can ring in the front pocket of his worn out blue jeans under the booth table as I approach. His Timberland boot clad feet are crossed over one another, stretched out and peeking from under the table. His blonde hair is getting long, and as I stop at the edge of the table, I can see that the ends curl up from under his Mossy Oak baseball cap, looking wet, and I can smell that he's freshly showered. He always uses Irish Spring, and the aroma fills the space around him.
"What can I get ya?" I ask, giving him a small smile. I try to be as friendly as possible, thinking to myself that maybe he has turned over another leaf and resolved to really leave me be.
"The usual, Rhea," he says, his blue-green eyes roaming over me for a split second, and then shooting across the table to his cousin Jesse. "You want anythang different, loser?" he asks with a hint of condescension.
I look over to Jesse and immediately feel annoyed. The cockiness is oozing off of him like slime on a snail. His dark brown hair is spiked in its usual fashion, his collar is unbuttoned at the top, and his tie is loose around his neck. He slouches in the booth, not paying attention to Duke or I, his brown eyes locked on his cell phone screen. I hear the sound of Duke's foot connecting with Jesse's shin; the latter's short shout making others look over. I giggle a little, seeing Duke smile as Jesse rubs his shin.
Coming Home: Book 2 The Wakefield Romance Series Page 2
