Bait

by M. Mabie

  I hadn't slept well on the plane. I thought about Blake and wondered where she had been traveling. Or if she had at all. I wasn't allowing myself to check up on her through their website anymore. It wasn't a sane thing to do. Even I could see that.

  How did she get me so worked up? And why in the hell did I keep chasing her? She'd told me—I don't know how many times and in about twice as many ways—that she wouldn’t leave him. I'd only wished I fucking knew why.

  I powered up my phone and the damn thing went crazy. It was nine thirty on a Sunday morning. All of the missed calls were from Micah. All of the texts were from her, too.

  Terror rose in me. That many calls from Micah was wrong, and the fact that my family hadn't tried to reach me led me to believe it was something to do with Blake.

  Before I could let my imagination wander too far, my phone rang in my hand. It was Micah.

  I answered like there was nothing wrong, I thought that maybe if I believed it hard enough it would be true, “Good morning, Micah.”

  “Like hell it is! Oooo... Can you find your brother for me? Where are you? Are you in town? Oooo... Hold on.” She pulled the phone away from her mouth and swore like I'd never heard her before. She had a mouth on her.

  “Hey, Mic. Are you all right? I don't know where Cory is. I just got off a plane. What's going on?”

  As I stepped up to the curb, a cab pulled right up in front of me. I didn't bother with putting my things in the trunk, tossing them inside and shutting the door.

  “Um... I think I'm fine. Oooo...” She was sort of panting and moaning. I wasn't a fool.

  She was in labor.

  “Hey, where are you. Where's Cory?” My mind tried to figure out why she'd be calling me.

  “I don't know where the hell he is. That's why I'm... Oooo... calling you. Oooo... Oooo... Can you find him for me? Ahhh... please, Casey.” She started to cry, I could tell she was panicking and in a lot of pain.

  “Hey, I’m not far. I'm going to pick you up and we'll go to the hospital. I'll find him.”

  “Oooo... okay. Hurry.” She huffed and hung up.

  “Hey, can you get me to 595 Holley Avenue, just South of San Bruno? Fast?” I told him and pulled a few twenties out of my wallet. It was very likely that he'd be driving us to the hospital and he was in for a hell of a trip. I wanted him to know I had money.

  He had us there in no time, taking side streets to avoid the busier ones.

  When I went inside I found Micah squatting in her kitchen.

  “Oooo...” she breathed when she saw me. “Did you find him? Oooo... should I wait here for him?” Her cheeks were streaked with tears.

  Where in the fuck was my brother?

  “No I haven't found him yet, Momma. I called Dad and Troy. They're going to find him for us. Do you know where he was going?”

  “A bike ride. He was going riding. Oooo... he's been acting funny. I think he was going to clear his... OOOOoooo... Oooo... head.”

  I helped her up and started us for the doors. She was waddling from side to side uncomfortably, moaning and wincing with every step.

  “Wait. Casey, get my bag. It's on my bed.”

  “Okay, just stay right here.” I moved her hands to the doorframe and said, “Hold onto this. I'll be right back.”

  I shot into their bedroom and on the way I saw all of their new furniture and it really hit me. My brother was about to be a dad.

  I bet he was freaking out.

  When I got back to her she had her head hung and her hips swayed back and forth, like she was rocking herself.

  “Are you okay? Shit. You're not okay. You're in fucking labor! Let's get you to the hospital. Cory will meet us there,” I said, waiting for her to go.

  “Just a second,” she said on a rather windy exhale. “Oooo... just a second.” I stood there, anxiously. We needed to go that very second.

  I didn't know much about childbirth, but if watching the Discovery Channel taught me anything thing, it was when a woman was ready to go, she was ready to go. And Micah was looking like she was already halfway there.

  In the cab, I text my dad and Troy about him going for a bike ride and I held her hand. She almost broke every one of my fingers.

  “I left my phone on the counter. Shit. Oooo... I need you to call Blake. She wants to fly here.”

  If this wasn't a rock and a hard place. Here this poor woman was about to pass something the size of a small Thanksgiving turkey and she wanted me to call the one person who I'd been trying to not call every second of every minute of every hour of every day.

  So I created a diversion, I hoped that by the time the contraction that hit her right after she'd requested for me to call Blake she'd have forgotten. Cory could call her when he showed up.

  “Let's wait until Cory gets here, you probably have a whole list of people to call. I don't want to spoil his good news.”

  “Oooo... Where is he?!” she wailed.

  That driver deserved a gold medal in cab driving. He had us to the hospital in a blink. He pulled us right up to the emergency door and even helped by grabbing our bags out as I ran inside to get Micah a wheel chair.

  “Um, hey. I need some help out there. My brother's girlfriend is having a baby. Like soon,” I said, as I walked to the ER desk. The middle-aged woman, who I’d spoken to, wasted no time. She sprang into action, moving around the counter grabbing a chair on her way.

  We ran back out to the curbside, where the cabby was counting out loud with Micah.

  “Four. Three. Two. One. Oooo,” they said in unison. It might have actually been funny, if I weren’t close to having a fucking heart attack.

  “Hello, there. Looks like we'll be having a baby today,” said the nurse. “I'm Nancy, now let’s get you inside.” She had Micah put her hands around her neck and she pivoted her around so that she could sit in the chair.

  As we walked inside she shouted, “Marie! Call OB and tell them I'm bringing them one.” She kept talking to Micah as she pushed her down the hall. “Honey, what's your name and who is your doctor?”

  “I'm Micah Cruuuuuuuse. Ahhh. Oooo. And my OB/GYN is Dr. Wolfe. Oooo...,” Micah said through gritted teeth. She was sweating and her short hair was all over the place. I felt so bad, yet I didn't know what the hell I should do.

  “And this is your boyfriend's brother, right?” she asked. I didn't think that was so much for her to aid in her check-in process as much as it was to take her mind off what was happening.

  “Mm-hmm,” Micah answered.

  “Well, brother, where is this baby’s daddy?” Nancy asked me.

  “He'll be here shortly,” I said, taking my phone out of my pocket to see if I had missed something in all the commotion.

  The nurse wheeled her on and on, but as we turned down the last hall and went through the last set of doors, I could tell we're were in the right place. I heard screaming from both women and infants. We walked down the pink hallway and another nurse thanked Nancy and they switched off.

  “Good luck, honey. And congratulations,” the sweet ER nurse told her as she walked away from her and back toward me and the way out.

  She grabbed my arm and whisper-yelled in my ear, “You better find that dad. Fast.”

  “Yes, ma'am,” I said and smiled at her.

  By the time I was walking to the room they'd wheeled a miserable Micah into, my phone went off.

  It was Troy.

  “Hey, you find him?” I asked, before I knocked on the door.

  “Yeah, he's on Angel Island riding with Joey. I got a hold of him. They're going to try to see if they can get a ride back somehow. Cory is freaking out. They’re going to take the 12:25 ferry.” But even if they could catch the ferry back, to the city from Angel Island, it would still be some time before he would get there.

  “Does Joey have a phone on him?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I just talked to them.”

  “Okay, I'll talk to you later.”

  I dialed Joey's phone and Cory a
nswered it on the first ring, “Hey, are you with her?”

  My brother was frantic, I could tell by how loud he was. Cory wasn't a guy who yelled a lot, but neither was I normally.

  Only when it came to her.

  “Yeah, I'm with her. We're at Seton. She's okay. They've got her in a room.”

  “Okay, good. God. I'm freaking out. How's she doing?” His panic turned into concern.

  “She’s fine. She's breathing funny, just like she's supposed to. Do you want to talk to her?” I asked as I gently rapped on the door. I heard the nurse tell me I could come in and so I let myself inside.

  The room was nicer than I'd ever expected. It sure as fuck was nicer than any I'd been in. Micah was changed into a gown already and they were getting her information and setting her up in their system.

  I walked over to the bed, where she looked pretty much the same. Sweaty. In a lot of pain. And terrified.

  “Cory is on the phone do you want to talk to him?” I asked.

  “Oooo... Yes! Oooo...,” she panted.

  I gave her the phone and relief washed over her face. I don't know what he was telling her but she closed her eyes. Tears falling down her flushed cheeks.

  “Just get here as fast as you can. Please. I need you,” she told him. “I will. I love you, too,” she added before she handed the phone back to me.

  “Hello?” I said into it not knowing if he'd hung up on not.

  “Hey, you take care of her until I get there. Whatever she wants. You got me? You take care of her. We're getting the 12:25 ferry. I'll be there in an hour,” he instructed.

  “I've got this. She'll be fine. I swear.”

  After I ended the call with Cory I made sure that she didn't need anything. She didn't need anything except Cory.

  The nurses had attached all sorts of gadgets to her and had monitors gauging all kinds of things. After she was checked and they told her that she was already dilated to five centimeters and something else—something about a face—another doctor came in and gave her an epidural.

  They said that she still had a little time to go and that she should try to relax. That epidural thing was magic. Almost instantly she looked better.

  I thought about how glad I was that Cory didn’t have to see her the other way. It wasn't that great.

  “So, now will you call Blake?” she asked. I couldn't distract her and her contractions were at bay, so I was kind of fucked.

  “Really, Micah. I'll do anything for you right now. Just, please, don't ask me to call her. You can use my phone.” I handed it to her, but she didn't reach for it.

  “Nope, I need you to call her. Tell her I'm here and that I'm fine. Tell her that the baby is coming and that she needs to get her ass on a plane.” Then the bitch smiled. “Please.”

  I shook my head at her, knowing what she was up to. “You're evil. Seriously though, I don't think she wants to hear from me.”

  “I think she does.” Micah said.

  “What the hell? On New Year’s you basically said to leave her alone. Now, I'm leaving her alone and you’re telling me to call her. I don't get it,” I confessed.

  “I don't know. She hasn't been the same lately. Maybe we were wrong,” she said as she situated herself a little better on the bed pushing her body up with her arms, her legs no longer cooperative.

  She added, “I guess I thought that you two were just having a fling. But now you’re both so…so meh. You know. I saw how happy you were and I could hear it in her voice, too. Maybe I should have told you to fight for her.”

  I looked at her eyes, and they were focused on mine. Her short pixy hair was still in disarray, but since she wasn't in as much agony, she sort of looked cute. Big belly, silly gown. I'd really grown to love this girl and I was happy she was the one my brother had found. She was perfect for him.

  That's what a relationship was supposed to look like. Not like what Blake and I were.

  “She's still getting married, Mic. I don't think I can change that.”

  “Try,” she said.

  Try.

  I looked at the face of my cell phone, knowing I hadn't deleted her number. It was right there in my hand. Every time I picked up the phone to give in and apologize, but mostly to hear her voice again, I'd remember it was there and I'd have to fight myself not to call.

  I looked back up into earnest blue eyes and she said, “Call her.”

  It sounded so simple. I pressed the button the on the side of my phone and it lit up. I tapped in the passcode that I still couldn't stand to change.

  2-2-4-8.

  B-A-I-T.

  I found Honeybee's number, which was arbitrary, because I knew it like the back of my dick.

  I gave Micah one last look. She rubbed her belly and looked hopefully at me.

  “Here goes nothing,” I said.

  As soon as I hit the green button, excitement exploded inside me, but I had to be cool. I was all fucking lit up inside with the thought of hearing her voice. Even if I didn't know if she’d be as happy to hear mine.

  I'd missed her so much more than I realized.

  Sunday, April 26, 2009

  I REALIZED THAT I missed him more when I was completely alone. When I was with other people, I could almost pretend like it never happened. Until something that he would like popped up. Sometimes it was a song, or a joke, or a beer I had with dinner in some city I wish we were in together.

  In that moment, alone in the shower washing the conditioner from my hair, my thoughts went back to him.

  They were vaporized when I heard Grant knock on the door. I heard it open and he said into the steamy bathroom, “Hey, Blake, some Casey keeps calling your phone. Do you want me to answer it? It seems important, she's called three times.”

  Time froze. I didn't say anything. Then Grant repeated, “Blake!”

  “Yeah, I mean no. Don't answer it. Can you bring it to me? I'm getting out.”

  Obediently, he went to retrieve my cell.

  Casey was calling me. During the middle of the day. This was unprecedented. Maybe he wanted me. Maybe he wanted more than just a fling.

  We hadn't spoken since Aspen and it had been over two months. I'd totally let go of the hope that he'd really wanted more than what we were.

  Grant said she.

  I pulled a towel off the rack in my bathroom and wrapped my hair up first. Then I wrapped the larger one around my body and grabbed the phone that Grant handed me through a half-closed door.

  I sat on the toilet lid. I thought that maybe I'd imagined what Grant had said. Maybe my overactive imagination just wanted to hear it was him, and so that was what it chose to hear. It had been doing that a lot. His name was everywhere. Television. Movies. KC and the Sunshine Band. Kansas City was the worst. Everything was Casey this Casey that. Yeah it was spelled KC, but it read the same to me.

  I saw his beer in restaurants and hotels when I traveled, having been referred by him. Even after everything.

  I heard it in a store one time and then I shouted it, too. I couldn't help myself. Heard a man shout it and then I repeated it, yelling at the top of my lungs. It was his friend's name. I think they might have been partners. And I looked really foolish.

  I heard it in my dreams, too. That made waking up a real bitch.

  Then there it was written in Helvetica Neue in my shaky hands.

  Casey.

  “Hello,” I said, calmly. Even though I wasn't.

  “Hi.”

  I was him. My heart raced and my vision blurred, my eyes fluttered closed on the other end and I felt the urge to laugh. I sat there in the john and waited for him to talk again. Speaking had been stricken from my resume.

  “Blake, are you there?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I answered. “How are you?”

  How are you? That was the stupidest question I could have asked and I definitely didn't want the answer.

  If he was bad, I was worse.

  If he was great, it would have killed me.

  �
�I'm here,” he said. “Sorry to call. I know it's… Whatever, listen, Micah is at the hospital. She wanted me to call you and let you know that the baby is on its way.” His voice gave nothing away. Flat. He just spoke. I couldn't tell how he felt at all. That kind of really sucked, because I was dying to know how he was. At least then I might know how I was.

  Of course he was calling me for that. The baby.

  He wasn't calling me for me. Or for him. It was for the baby. I desperately tried to swallow the disappointment.

  “Right. Is she okay?” I asked.

  “She's doing fine. She is in labor, but she's doing great so far. She thought that you would want to know.”

  Still, I couldn't get a read on him. It was like we were merely acquaintances. Maybe that was what we were.

  “Good. I'll get a flight. I was going to be in town this week anyway. Which hospital?” My voice was all over the place. I sounded like a pubescent boy. Squeaking through my awkward swallowing and around my heaving lungs. Through all of it, though, I still wanted to burst out laughing.

  I had stayed away from him and him from me. We were following the rules. The unspoken moral code of a person in a relationship, and a person who liked living out of a suitcase.

  He abided by them.

  It was daily recovery and nightly withdrawal. Which was odd because he'd only ever spent one night with me. Yet, that's always when I thought of him the most.

  “We're at Senton.”

  “All right.” Then I laughed. Maybe it was a nervous thing, maybe my body was happy and reacted by chuckling at the worst possible minute to spite me. “Sorry.” I coughed.

  “What's so funny?” he asked.

  “I don't know. I just felt like laughing.”

  “You're so weird,” I heard him say softly, like he thought it out loud. I heard it though. Humor. Candor. It was small, but I could smell it like blood in the water.

  “Weird because I'm laughing?” I cracked.

  “Yes. This is totally supposed to be awkward and uncomfortable and you're ruining it for me.”