“I’m gonna let you guys be alone,” I say.
Quinn holds her other hand out to me. “No, please. Ginger, I need you.”
Hearing her words tug at my heart, and I squeeze her hand in mine. “I won’t go anywhere.”
“Contractions?” Caroline asks.
“Every seven minutes,” Chase says, looking at the timer on his phone. He holds it out for us to see. “I downloaded an app on my phone.”
“Well you’re right on schedule, just two weeks early, but that’s not a problem. Let’s just see how dilated you are.” Caroline gives Quinn a quick examination, which makes Chase look as if he’s going to pass out at any moment.
“Hmm….you’re about seven centimeters. All we need to do now is play the waiting game. I’m gonna check your vitals, and we’re gonna monitor the baby’s heartbeat on the hour. I bet we’ll have this baby sometime tomorrow!”
“We’re not ready!” Quinn shoots up out of bed. “I haven’t finished washing the baby’s clothes and I’m not sure we have enough blankets. I still need to—”
“Let me worry about that,” I tell her. “You just have that baby, and I will be working on the baby room.” Having six younger siblings, I know exactly what to expect and what to do. My only regret is that at twenty-two, I’m nowhere near starting a family of my own. There’s a green streak of envy in me when it comes to Quinn. She’s always been the one that guys fall head over heels in love with. Me? I’m just fun. I was never the girl you take home to Mom and Dad.
I leave the happy couple alone with the Midwife and make my way into the beautifully painted nursery. Quinn is an amazing artist, and she’s painted the entire thing by hand. I lie back on the floor and stare up at the starry night scene on the ceiling. This baby is so lucky to have Quinn and Chase as parents. I know Quinn will be nothing like her parents or mine.
This is the most exciting day I’ve had in a long time. You know that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach on Christmas morning as a kid? Well this is just like it. My best friend is having a baby. She’s having a baby! This isn’t even my kid, but I want to scream it to the world. Unfortunately, I don’t really have anybody to call, not anyone who would care anyway. I’m not on close speaking terms with my parents, it’s more like monthly check-ins and greeting cards. My friend, Jo, hates kids. My siblings are probably already in bed and aren’t old enough to care about babies. If I could call anyone right now, it would be…
I’m surprised at the first name that pops into my mind. Caspian. That’s ridiculous. Even If I wanted to call him right now, I couldn’t. I only have his email, and I doubt he would care about this exciting news. He’s never even met Quinn. Standing up, I grab a pile of blankets from the chair and take them into the laundry room. I take one look at the high tech looking washer.
“Oh that’s scary.”
I fumble around with the knobs on the washing machine. I don’t even do my own laundry, I have a housekeeper. Why did I volunteer to do someone else’s again? After minutes of pushing and pulling on the knobs, I get a load started. I check in on Quinn who is walking around her room telling me not to worry.
“Go hang out downstairs. Chase will call you when it’s time.”
I agree to go sit down in the living room and spend the next few hours flipping through the TV channel while cruising Twitter. I wonder if Caspian has an account of his own. I type in Caspian Norwood and press search. It doesn’t bring anything up. I try again with just Cas Norwood Surely he has one, everyone has a Twitter right? I search again, this time just by his first name and scroll through the list. Ah ha! I find a profile that just says Caspian. His profile picture is of him holding his guitar. His hair is shorter, but he still looks the same. He has a couple thousand followers, and my curiosity gets the best of me. They’ve been in Florida recently, now they are in North Carolina. He doesn’t put anything personal on there, and he hardly ever updates it. Just a bunch of retweets from fans. I don’t know why he hasn’t emailed me back, and it’s killing me. He’s obviously still alive. Did I do or say something wrong? Did I come on too strong? Maybe he didn’t like the way I looked. Maybe it was the picture that was leaked. That had to be it! He’s extremely private; maybe he didn’t like the attention. I flip on my email and type in his name. I have to apologize right away. Just the thought of him being mad at me makes me sick.
Caspian,
You haven’t emailed me back in over a week, and I did the whole online stalking thing, and I keep wondering why. You never seemed like the type of guy to just blow me off, and I thought we were becoming friends. I’m also assuming you’re mad at me. If this is about the picture, I am so sorry. That randomly happens at times. I can’t even pump gas without the whole world knowing about it. If I caused you any trouble or if you don’t want to be friends anymore, I’ll understand. It was never my intention to make your life difficult. Anyway, I just wanted to apologize. My cousin is having a baby tonight. I’m excited because, well, it’s a baby! I hope you’re doing well. Sometimes I think of you, and wonder what you’re doing. I hope that doesn’t sound strange. You don’t have to answer or even reply back.
Deena
Not even a minute later, my phone vibrates. He’s messaged me back already. I grab my phone. My stomach drops as I realize that it’s not Caspian. It’s only a text from Barrett.
Barrett: How’s Quinn?
Ginger: She’s doing good. At 7 cm.
Barrett: What is 7 cm?
I shake my head. Really? There’s no way I’m explaining this to him
Ginger: Nothing. I’ll send out a mass message when he’s born.
Barrett: Can I come over?
Ginger: No.
Barrett: Why not?
Ginger: Because I don’t want to see you or talk to you
Barrett: We need to talk
Ginger: There’s nothing to talk about. You threatened me. We’re over. Goodnight.
It’s almost midnight so I curl up on the chair, turn my phone off, close my eyes, and wait for the baby.
“I’m not going!”
I awake to the sound of shuffling and yelling. I push my hair off my face, stand up, and stretch.
“What’s going on?” I ask Chase as he hurries through the living room.
“Quinn isn’t progressing.”
“What? Is she okay? What’s wrong?”
He pulls an energy drink from the fridge and opens it. “We don’t know. She’s been stuck at 8 centimeters for most of the night and she’s been in labor all night. She’s pretty worn out.”
Without answering, I rush upstairs, taking the steps two at a time till I reach Quinn who is sitting on a birthing ball. Her hair is pulled back into a high ponytail and she looks miserable.
“Quinn, honey. Are you okay?”
I run my hands over her pale skin and push a few pieces of stay hair behind her ear.
“I’m fine. Just tired.”
Caroline rubs her back. “If you aren’t progressing by noon I’m gonna suggest we take this to the hospital. The longer your water is broken, the higher a risk you have for infection.”
I wipe a few stray tears from Quinn’s face.
“I feel like such a failure,” she mumbles.
“Don’t be. You’re the strongest person I know,” I say. “You’re stronger than I could ever be.
I move over as Chase walks into the room and let him sit in front of his girlfriend. He puts his arms around her and holds her while she cries. She doesn’t need me anymore, and I’m glad. She has something even better. A man who loves her. There’s a rocking chair in the corner where I sit down and wait for more news. I make a few phone calls and cancel a lunch date. When I get to my emails, a particular email catches my attention
From: Caspian Norwood
Dearest Ginger,
I’m sorry I haven’t written you sooner. It’s not that I don’t want to be your friend. I can’t really explain everything that’s going on, but I do hope you know that I thought of you o
ften and will continue to do so.
Your friend,
Cas
What. The. Hell?
Was this some sort of “not really” break up email? I kinda thought our flirtatious emails were fun. This is the first time he’s called me Ginger as well. This has to mean something, right?
I press reply and let my anger get the best of me. I’m in no mood for games.
Caspain,
You’re just a shitty ball of mystery aren’t you? Did I do something wrong?
Annoyed and Confused,
Ginger.
I pull the internet up on my phone and obsessively get on a gossip site. Sure enough, news about Quinn’s incident last night is circulating everywhere. Someone at the party talked because they know she is giving birth at home. Quinn is focused on a contraction. I motion for Chase to come over.
“What’s up?” he asks me.
“The media knows Quinn is in labor, and I bet you anything they are outside the house right now!”
His eyes dart back and forth between his girlfriend and the window. “Shit, don’t say anything to her. She’s worried enough as it is.”
“I feel useless just sitting here.”
“You’re not useless. You’re washing clothes and getting everything ready. You’re being helpful.”
My lower jaw drops to which I promptly cover with my hands. “That is the nicest thing you’ve ever fuckin said to me, Chase Crawley.”
He shakes his head. “I didn’t sleep at all last night so don’t mention it, and you need to work on your cursing. We don’t need the baby copying you.”
“You maniac, newborns can’t talk.” My eyes dart to the alarm clock. It’s almost eleven.
My phone begins ringing. “Oh shi—crap.” I hold it up for Chase to see. “My mom. I better take this. I bet she was watching TMZ or something and saw a report and is just freaking out.”
I leave the room and put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Ginger. Is it true? Is Quinn in labor?”
The only time she ever calls me, and it’s to gossip. “Yes, Mom. Quinn is fine though.”
“Well, she would do good to contact Aunt Brooke. She just called me in a panic. People are emailing her and asking questions. She doesn’t know what to tell them.”
“She needs to tell them to mind their own business!” Typical, she doesn’t care how I’m doing.
“Don’t you speak that way to me.”
“What do you expect, Mom? We only speak during holidays and the occasional email.”
My dad yells something in the background. I barely make it out, but it sounds like he’s upset.
“What does Dad want?”
“He wants to know when you’re coming home to visit.”
I’m not sure what to say. I don’t have a good relationship with my parents, and I have no desire to come home. I do miss my siblings though.
“How are the kids?”
“Annoying the crap out of me. I better go. Your dad wants something. Keep me in the loop, and tell Quinn to tell her Mom.”
We hang up, and I look around for something to distract me. My mom always puts me in a foul mood. Quinn has one more hour of labor before we have to take her to the hospital, and I know that is the last thing she wants. I grab a pile of baby clothes from the dryer and begin folding. There were times I wish my parents were more supportive, but I grew up invisible and unappreciated with them. My father drank too much and my mother was always busy with a baby.
I attempt to keep my mind clear as I match socks and fold tiny onesies. I always wanted a family, in fact, I crave one badly. I crave love, and whether it comes from a man or a child, it doesn’t matter.
Something is wrong. My entire body aches. Disappointment grows in my stomach. Sadness throbs in my bones. I can’t pinpoint exactly what hurts, but I suspect it has something to do with Caspian’s email. How could he not want me? Everyone wants me. After I put up the tiny cute little socks, my stomach convinces me to go downstairs to find some food.
I wander into the kitchen where I gather sandwich fixings. As I pull out the mayo, I spot a six-pack of Rolling Rock in the back of the fridge. I know I shouldn’t touch it, especially not in here. Not after I got the lashing from hell from both Quinn and Chase. Ugh, I hate beer. I hate the bitter aftertaste and smell, but who cares? I mean, really? This has been a shitty day. I grab the bottle and crack it open. I let the cold liquid slip down the back of my throat. Something in my mind clicks. It’s as if I can finally breathe and stop craving. Relief flows through me as the tension dissipates throughout my body. Now this is what I’m talking about.
“I thought you hated beer.”
I look up to see Barrett standing in the hallway. “Like you would know what I like or don’t like.”
“Well we did date for almost three years.” He walks closer, his blue eyes sparkling in amusement from catching me drinking. Embarrassed, I set the drink down and continue making the sandwich.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came by to drop off a gift basket from the gang. Tucker wanted to drop it off himself so be thankful I saved you from being hit on by the Tuck-meister.”
“The Tuck-meister?”
“His name, not mine.”
“Whatever. You can go now.” I go back to making my sandwich.
“You should stay away from him.”
I look up and point the butter knife at him. “For one, none of your business. Two, none of your business.”
“I’m just giving you a warning. I see the way he looks at you. He thinks he has a chance now that I’m out of the picture.”
“Well he’s not my type.”
Barrett lets the topic go and walks closer. “Can we talk? About us?”
I turn my back to him to put up the lunchmeat. “Not now. Not today. Whenever we talk, we fight, and I’m sick of fighting.”
He comes around the counter and grabs my hands in his. “Ginger, please. I can’t be without you. These past few days have been horrible. I miss you.”
We’ve played this game before. I take one-step forward, and he pulls me right back into his trap with empty promises and shattered illusions. Not again. Not this time. He only wants me because someone else does now.
“Don’t you dare do this to me again. Not today. Not when Quinn is upstairs in labor. I can’t believe you have the nerve to come here and do this to me you selfish, twisted fuck!”
“Oh stop overreacting. People have babies every day. She’ll be fine.”
“For your information, Quinn isn’t progressing. She’s at risk for infection and we may have to take her to the hospital.”
His face softens. “I’m sorry, babe. That really sucks. I don’t know what to say.” He puts his hand on my shoulder, and I wait for that feeling. That feeling of comfort and safety I got with Caspian, but it never comes. I try and relax my body. Still nothing. I shake his hand off me.
“Don’t say anything. Just go, Barrett,” I whisper. “Just go.”
Our eyes meet, but his expression is so different than Caspian’s. In so many ways that I can’t put into words.
“I’ve been trying to tell you something about the night I got arrested.”
“We were broken up. You don’t need to explain anything. I’m over you, Barrett. I’m over us.”
I grab my plate and beer and walk to the table. Wow, I’m really holding my ground this time. Snaps for Ginger!
Barrett grabs my arm and spins me around to look at him. “Will you listen to me?”
I jerk my arm out of his grasp. “What?”
“I was dancing with a girl and her boyfriend got pissed. I didn’t know she’d come with someone else. After the fight, my publicist told me I needed to work on my image. People are beginning to hate me.”
“Big surprise,” I mumble.
“This was a wakeup call for me, a wakeup call for us. I’ve treated you like shit and I’m sorry. I still love you. I want you back, Ginger.” He combs his
hands through my hair and pulls me close. He wants me back. Isn’t that what I wanted this whole time? I want him to regret ever hurting me, but that doesn’t change how I feel about Caspian.
“Wait. I’m confused. The other day you threatened me. You said you were going to get me fired.”
“I was mad. When I heard you were hanging out with some punk guy, I got defensive. Come on, give me another chance.”
Stepping out of his grasp, I shake my head. “I can’t do this right now.”
People expect us to get back together, but right now, I have no idea who or what I want. I don’t want to be treated like crap, and I seriously doubt he’s changed.
“Please?”
I struggle to find the words. Giving in would be so easy. I could forget about Caspian and just go back to the way things were before. “No,” I whisper. I’m actually surprised as the words leave my mouth.
“No?” Barrett repeats.
“No.” I gain the courage to look up at him. I don’t want to fall back into old habits. I want to feel something more. Feel the things that Caspian said I deserved. Someone I can share everything with.
“What’s going on here?” Chase appears in the kitchen doorway.
Barrett puts on a cheeky grin and points to the basket on the table. “A bunch of us bought you and Quinn a fruit basket.”
Chase nods, but looks over at me. “Quinn wants to rest for a bit. I came down here to get her some ice.”
Barrett awkwardly shifts his feet and moves away from me. “Guess I better be going. Later, Ginger. Good luck, man.” He and Chase shake hands, and he leaves.
Chase fills up a cup with crushed ice and glares at me. “What’s that?”
“Didn’t you hear? Barrett brought you a fruit basket.”
He shakes his head. “Beside you.”
I look down to see the beer and plate on the table. “It’s just a beer. I’m not drunk or anything. You didn’t have any diet coke.” Lame excuse.
Chase’s expression drops into a scowl. “I don’t have time for this. I have to worry about Quinn. You’re an adult, do whatever you want.” He slams a few things around before going back upstairs. How dare he treat me like that. I’m not a helpless child. I can drink a beer if I please. If he really thought I had a problem, he wouldn’t have left a fridge full of beers just lying around. I’m acting childish and selfish, but I don’t care. I chug the rest of the bottle to hide the taste, and grab one more. I won’t get drunk off a few beers; I just need something to take the edge off. Barrett wants me back? Tucker wants me now? I can’t even think about that right now. I throw my sandwich in the trash, if I drink on an empty stomach, it will hit me faster.
The One Thing Page 10
