“I'm tired of running,” Ty says as he passes the cigarette to me and draws another out of his pocket. I raise it to my lips, but I don't smoke it, just brush it along my mouth until I'm salivating and my heart is pumping a hundred miles an hour. Addiction. It's the second most powerful emotion there is. There's only one that can trump it, and that, that is love. I close my eyes and try to feel Ty's presence, his warmth, his belief that we are worth more in one another's eyes than we were in our own. Love. Love. Love. The only emotion that ranks first in both the pain and pleasure categories on the tumultuous scale of human feeling, the only one that can both start wars and end them, that can kill but that can also make new life. I touch my fingers to my belly and know that this is a good time to tell Ty about our baby. “I guess to move forward, I have to go back?” he asks and I nod.
“Sometimes, the only way to go forward, is to take a few, careful steps back,” I say, echoing the very lesson that Ty taught me before with his patience, his confidence, and his trust. “There's something I want … ” I pause because the words aren't right and they need to be. They need to be just right. “No, something that I need to tell you,” I say and the change in Ty is immediate. Behind me, he tenses and his cigarette falls from his hands, tumbles end over end and hits the snow with a hiss. Ty curses and moves away from me, leaving me shivering in the icy cold starlight. “Ty?” I ask as he moves down the steps and into the snow barefoot, retrieves the cig and comes back with a frown on his face.
“What?” he asks and his demeanor is completely different from before, like he's just turned a 180, gone off in the opposite direction and lost touch with reality. What the hell? I shift my feet nervously as I look at him and notice that my cigarette has burned down to a dangerous nub. I deposit it into the ashtray next to the porch swing and try to convince myself that there will be no better time than now to tell Ty. If I keep waiting for a certain ambiance, a certain facial expression, a specific tone of voice from Ty, then I might be waiting a long, long while. The past few weeks, he's been perfect, but then, he's been focusing on me and my problems, not on his, and despite his calm, quiet strength and reassuring attitude, he has a lot of them. Maybe living vicariously through me has cured some of his aches but not all them. There are things living inside of Ty that even I don't understand. After all, I never worked as a prostitute, never saw my worth in dollar signs and making ends meet. I'm not saying that I'm any better or any less damaged than Ty, only that I don't always understand what he's thinking or why. What I can say and that I do know for sure is that Ty McCabe has not gotten snippy with me in a while, and I know, know, know that at least ninety percent of his attitude is because of his mother. I have to remember that, so I can work gingerly with him, take him under my wing and show him the same love and consideration that he showed me.
“Sit down with me?” I ask as I hold out my hand to indicate the porch swing. Ty looks at it and then at me, and he stares for a long time, eyes shadowed by his position against the moon. I can't see what he's thinking and it makes me nervous. He smiles but there are no dimples, and shakes his head.
“My feet are cold. Let's go back to bed.” Ty holds out his hand and I take it though I don't move. Instead of him pulling me forward, I hold him back and try to look him straight in the face. Once again, like a frightened dog, he won't look at me, turning this way and that like he doesn't want to hear what I have to say.
“Ty, I'm – ”
“Never,” he interrupts and he moves forward, lifting both of his hands so he can take my face between them, kiss my lips with hot fire and draw me into his dark orbit. “I am on overload already, baby. I'm not thinking clearly. I know that, and I'm not afraid to admit it, but whatever you have to say, I won't be able to take it seriously if you tell me now. Can it wait?” My stomach spins and flips and turns over, almost like that bit of Ty that's inside of me is as anxious as he is. I pull away from him and he chases after me, like he thinks I'm trying to run. When I stop at the toilet and throw up Beth's over salted Christmas dinner, Ty breathes a sigh of relief and slumps to the floor in the hallway. “I'm so sorry, Never,” he says, and it almost sounds like he's apologizing for something other than his attitude, like he knows. Like he knows. He knows. I pause and raise my head up, turn slowly to find my lover's head back and his eyes closed.
Ty McCabe knows. He has to know. My eyes widen and I'm glad his are closed because if he saw this expression, he'd know that I was onto him. You fucking idiot, Never, I think to myself as I swallow hard and flush the toilet to keep Ty from hearing any sounds that may or may not escape my throat. When did he find out? How does he know? Did Beth tell him? I don't know, but at least things make sense now. His wanting to quit smoking, his refusal to hear what I had to say, his proposal …
Fuck.
His proposal.
I turn back to Ty and see that he's not paying attention to me. He is all up in his head, so buried in that shit that he can barely see what's right in front of him. Normally, the man has little to no difficulty reading me like an open book. As of right now, the book is closed and sitting shelved. Ty McCabe is thinking about his mother and his childhood and his dead cousin and his clients and whatever else it was that made him the way he was. He does not see the look of pain and anger that flashes across my expression as he glances up at me and smiles sadly.
“Get me through this?” he asks, and the plea is too genuine for me to ignore. On shaking hands, I crawl across the floor, touch my fingers to the purple bruise around Ty's dark eye and slump against him. He tugs me against him nice and tight, rings digging into my arm while my hands lay limp in his lap and the blue ring glints at me like a warning.
Did Ty McCabe ask me to marry him because he wanted me or because he knew I was pregnant? I won't know until I ask him, but I can't ask him until he lets me. Right now, Ty is shutdown. If I press the point that he so obviously does not want me to bring up, then I'll only be asking for heartache.
“Of course,” I say to him and then silently, I add, and then after, I'll find out what you know and how, what your intentions are and how you really feel. Ty McCabe loves me, but love alone does not a child raise. I have to figure out what's going on, so I can make some decisions. Tough ones. After all, that's what life's about: hard choices and the way we deal with them.
I promise then and there to prove myself not just to Ty, not just to this baby, not just to this family, but to a person long neglected who is overdue for a bit of respect: myself.
7
I wake on Christmas morning to the sounds of children shouting downstairs, racing up and down the halls, pounding on doors and begging India, Jade, and me to get our butts up. Ty is already gone, but on his pillow sits a small box wrapped in silver paper. It's topped with a green bow and there's a small note tucked underneath. I pick this up with a smile, my mind clogged with the happy feelings of sex and sleep, both of which I got in droves last night, and then remember that Ty knows. Ty knows that I'm pregnant but hasn't said a thing, so he's lying to me, too, in a way. I frown and unfold the note.
The words are in Ty's handwriting, small and scrawled, heavy and dotted with ink splotches because he presses too hard when he writes. Ty tells me he's broken his fair share of pens in his life, and I believe him. I read the words carefully, searching for McCabe's true feelings for me in the text.
Never, it begins with a carefully placed date and time in the upper right hand corner. I'm no Noah Scott in the poetry department, but I know you like guys with words of their own, so here it goes. P.S. If you make fun of me for this, I'll never forgive you. xxxOxxx Ty.
I peel the top page of the note back and tuck it behind the bottom.
Untitled Poem for the Love of my Fucking Life
by Tyson Monroe McCabe
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Never Ross, I heart the fuck out of you.
I snort with laughter as I reread the three simple lines that Ty has penned for me and decorated with
flourishes. There are swirls, hearts, lips and even a few naughty bits drawn with careful precision. Now open your fucking gift, it says on the bottom. I fold the page up and know that although Ty is not a master manipulator of the English language, that his poem is my favorite if only because he wrote it. Sorry Noah, I think as I put the box in my lap, untie the ribbon and find a dog collar.
“Shit,” I say, but already there's a smile on my face. “Shit, fuck, Ty McCabe,” I say as I swing my feet out of bed and fight back a wave of nausea. Look at me, I think as I finger the purple and pink polka dotted collar with my fingers. I'm your all American girl now. I've got a fiance, a baby, and a dog. Goddamn. I finally give into my nausea and head to the bathroom, but I don't stay long. I have to see what my tatted bad boy has done, what stupid decision he made based on a few choice words from me. At least it's proof that he listens to what I say. I've only told him about my wishes for a dog offhandedly, and it certainly isn't anything we've talked about. Somehow though, Ty knows. Ty always knows.
I put some slippers on my feet, check to make sure my hair isn't too terribly mussy, and head down the stairs to find bitch-Never playing with a gray and white pit bull. Noah and Ty both supervise from the archways to the kitchen and living room respectively while the little girls gaze at the new dog with awe and a bit of raw jealousy in their faces.
“Tyson McCabe,” I say and my bad boy cringes, switching his gaze over to me with a guilty expression of pleasure turning up the corners of his sexy lips. “What on earth have you done?”
“You said you wanted a dog,” he tells me with a gentle shrug, and I have to avoid Noah's eyes because he's looking at me with something that I don't like. Zella comes out of the kitchen and he moves aside to let her pass, but the way she looks at him and the way he's looking at me, I know she's told him. I try not to let a frown grace my mouth and move down the stairs so that the dog – my dog – can sniff my crotch.
“I live in the dorms,” I say, but I want to be happy, so I just am. I follow the wagging tails of the two dogs as an example and just live in the moment, just feel for a second the way I want to feel. I will worry about Noah and Zella and the baby and Ty and his mother later. Right now, I'm bending down and getting a face full of slobber as I hook the collar around my new friend's neck.
“Adoption fee's nonrefundable,” Ty says with a silly wink. “Plus, she's a real good, bitch. Kind of like you.” I flip him off and the little girls ooh at our dirty display. Beth comes out of the kitchen at the perfectly wrong moment and gives me a look.
“No fingers in front of the kids, Never,” she tells me, proving with a few, simple words that she is no longer angry at Ty; she doesn't correct him. I also notice that the engagement ring is no longer on her finger, and I can't help but wonder what happened between her and Danny. I'm afraid to ask. I'm even more afraid of what will happen when I leave with Ty today, how she'll react to my departure and how she'll behave when I'm gone. I'm not particularly into controlling the sex lives of others, but I know I don't want Beth with Danny. I have to protect her from the pain he could cause. I just have to. Beth deserves better.
“What's her name?” Lorri asks me, tugging on the sleeve of my oversized white tee, the one that I borrowed from Ty. I look up at the man in question and he shrugs at me.
“Your dog,” he says as he slips a cig between his lips and gets a dirty look from Beth. I sigh and sit down, crossing my legs and thinking about how this gray dog and I are a match made in heaven. She's a pit bull: one of the most misunderstood creatures on the planet. No doubt she's had to overcome obstacles to be here in my arms, and I don't doubt that she'll experience many more, that people will judge her based on what she is and not who she is. That's tough. I let her kiss my face and try to think around her slobber and bitch-Never's high pitched barking that Noah is always hard-pressed to put a stop to.
Ty watches me carefully as I think about this dog's name and how hard it is to pick just one word, one descriptor, one something to help define who she is, where she's been and what she'll become. Think this is hard? What about naming a baby? I swallow a painful lump and push that thought back. Live in the now because the now is all you're guaranteed to have. The future is a far off concept, something that may or may not happen. You don't have to ignore it, but you don't have to obsess about it either.
“Well,” I begin as I hear footsteps and glance over my shoulder to find India and Jade both coming down the stairs. Maple and Darla are sitting on the floor near Ty's feet while Lettie and Lorri pet the dogs beside me; Beth watches; Ty watches; Noah watches with Zella's eyes sliding back to his face every now and again. There is only one person who should be here, but is not. “You know how recycling is good for the earth?” I speak slowly, so that they can all hear me. “How you can take something that's used, that's basically garbage, and make it new and fresh again?”
“You want to name her Recycle?” Lorri asks and both she and Lettie laugh. I smile at them, but I continue on, convinced that my decision is the right one. This dog and her name are now symbolic of my life. I have a feeling that we'll be together forever.
“I'm going to name her Angelica,” I say, and it takes the younger girls a moment to understand. Beth, however, gets it right away. She tucks her short hair behind her ear and smiles softly at me.
“I like it, Never,” she says as we both realize the impact our missing mother has and will continue to make on us both. “What do you think, Ty?” I look over at him and see that he's grinning from ear to ear.
“I think that's fucking perfect.”
“Language,” Beth says slowly. “Language.”
8
We manage to make it through a pancake breakfast and a frenzy of presents, paper, and toys before Ty's decision to leave comes out in the worst way possible – by accident.
“Wait, what?” Beth asks after Ty makes an offhanded comment about coming back. He pauses suddenly, like he's frozen and frowns. He's been stroking Angelica's fur for awhile now, and the dog looks like it's in heaven. His bracelets have been tinkling a merry rhythm that's lulled me into a sleepy state where I can barely keep my eyes open. As my sister's hazel eyes slide over to mine, I have no choice but to sit up and take a deep breath.
“Ty's mother is in the hospital,” I say as I let my gaze trail over to India, Zella, and Noah. Of course, he's the first one to speak. Noah is good with these types of situations.
“I'm so sorry to hear that,” he says as he leans forward and tilts his blonde head to the side, steeples his fingers in front of him and tries not to let his thigh touch Zella's. The poor girl is gunning for him like crazy and I know that she's waiting for the perfect moment to ask me if it's okay, if she can have him, love him the way I could've if I hadn't run away. If I hadn't found Ty. I don't let myself have any regrets and resolve to pull her aside before I go. Noah has a right to love someone else, and I want Zella to be happy. Besides, the boy fits into our family like a piece of a puzzle, filling the missing slot that my mom's left unoccupied. Guess we should keep him in the family. “I hope it's not too serious?”
“Actually,” Ty says as he sits up tall and blows out a big breath, one that smells like maple syrup and cigarettes. As strange as it sounds, it's actually comforting and it makes me want to kiss him, steal his worries away with my lips, hide them deep down with the rest of mine and lock them away. But then, could we ever really be happy if I did that? Could we ever really start fresh with old memories rotting inside of me, poisoning me from the inside out? I don't think so. “It is. In fact,” Ty pauses and glances up at the clock above the fireplace. “The old broad might be dead already.” Noah cringes, and I don't blame him. It's hard to hear the way Ty talks about his mother, even if she is a horrible person. I see Beth craning her neck after the little ones, but they're outside in the snow with Jade, so all is good. “That's why I have to go, just in case,” Ty tells the sad, sorry faces on the couch kitty-corner from ours. “I have to see her if I can, or I'm never goin
g to get over this … this hatred that I have for her.” Ty runs his hands over his face and shakes his head.
Nobody speaks for a moment, so I step in and make sure it's understood that this is not something that Ty and I have been hiding from the family, just something that was sprung on us spur of the moment that we have to deal with.
“Ty got the call yesterday,” I begin as I put out a hand and rest it on his knee. My blue engagement ring looks so bright in the glow of the Christmas lights and the warm flicker of the candles on the fireplace mantel. I wish I could stay here, soak up the holiday cheer, and announce to my family Ty's and my union with a glass of champagne that I can't drink. “We didn't want to spoil the morning by telling you … ” I trail off as my sisters' faces fall, and I realize that they didn't know I was going with him.
“You're going, too?” Beth says, and her voice sounds very tight, like she's on the verge of tears. I think she was counting on my being here for the next few weeks. I think my pregnancy is helping her deal with hers, and besides, these past few weeks have been wonderful. I would do anything to stay with my sisters, but Ty needs me now, and I can't let him down. If I let him go without me, he might do or say something that he's going to regret for the rest of his life. I have to protect him, even if he won't acknowledge the secret that's festering between us. I nod, but I have a hard time getting the word yes past my tight-lipped frown. I knew I would have to leave eventually, go back to school, and say goodbye to my sisters for a little while. Despite what some people think, texts and phone calls are not the same. Still, I didn't expect it to come so soon or to hit me so hard when it did. Now that the word is out and Ty is nibbling his lip ring anxiously, I know it's time to go and my heart starts beating fiercely, begging me to stay.
Tasting, Finding, Keeping: The Story of Never Page 32
