“Well, do you think Cole is somehow mentally inept?”
“I’m pretty sure those are fighting words, sister.” Forcing a deep breath into my lungs, I attempted to un-rattle my nerves.
“Then you agree that he is in his right mind.”
“Is there a point to this?”
“The point is, Cole thinks you’ll be a good mother. That ought to count for something. Also, get your hormones in check. You’re a basket case.”
Laughing, I stood up and started pacing. “That seemed a little unnecessary.”
“I owed you for that time right after I had Cooper when you told me I needed a shower.”
“That was said in a sisterly spirit of love.”
“You told me I was gross.”
“Touché,” I relented, crossing to the closet and sliding off my shoes. “Why do you put up with me, Trina?”
“Because you’ve never scolded me for eating Oreo cookies at midnight,” she joked. “Besides, I need someone to entertain me. Someone unpredictable and slightly unhinged…”
“…and I’m your candidate.”
“My candidate,” she laughed. “Of course not. You’re the peanut butter to my jelly.”
“Sounds like you’re hungry.”
“Maybe,” she admitted. “So, what’s this about Rita being at your house? I might be rethinking my thoughts on your sanity.”
“I brought her over here to protect Hannah,” I began to explain, stopping to stare out the window into the dark back yard. “At least, I think so. The idea of having both of them at the B&B simultaneously didn’t seem like a good idea.”
“I still can’t believe you’re talking to her.”
“Sometimes I can’t either, but… Well, forgiveness is like a cage… No, wait, that’s not it. Not forgiving is like locking yourself up in a prison.”
“You’re not making sense.”
“Not usually, no. It makes sense in my head, and if I were to write it down, you would see the beauty of it.”
“I’ll take your word for it then. But… Oh, sounds like Cooper woke up. There goes my free time. Enjoy yours while you can, sis. Don’t waste it crying and freaking out.”
“Advice taken,” I answered, turning away from the window. “Bye, Trina.”
-§-
It was about half an hour later when Cole finally made his way to the bedroom, where I sat on the bed with my laptop going through countless emails. There were details about the conference in the fall from Laurel, which sent my heart into a state of panic. A couple of requests for appearances were in there, including a television station in St. Louis that wanted to do a story on the hometown girl. Of course, there were also dozens of mundane questions and suggestions from Lex at my publishing company, but most I breezed through without even answering.
“Feeling better?” Cole wondered as he walked up and placed his hand on my shoulder.
“Fine, thanks,” I said with a smile. “How was the batting practice?”
Chuckling, he sat beside me on the bed. “You make it sound like I’m in little league. I got a few good pointers. How was the mini golf?”
“Well, I think Maureen hates me. And Jake was out of sorts.”
“Jake? What, did he run off with Maureen and leave you and Hannah to fend for yourselves?”
“No,” I stated emphatically, drawing my leg up on the bed and turning to face him. “He refused to be around Maureen, and he told me he was looking for a nice girl so he could settle down.”
“Jake said that,” he attempted to clarify.
Did he?
“Something like that,” I added somewhat guiltily.
“Wow.”
Cole stood up and retreated to the closet, tossing his shoes inside before he turned back toward me, scratching his head. There was no need for him to say anything else – “wow” pretty much summed up his thoughts, and anything else would have simply been superfluous. Walking past me, Cole began messing with the radio, and within a few seconds my favorite Michael Bublé song was coming out of the speakers. He gave me a heart-stopping grin, but my heart threatened to stop in its tracks for another reason entirely. As soon as that smooth voice began singing “You Don’t Know Me,” my thoughts immediately went back to the cab of Jake’s pickup and him telling me he was “just a friend,” and I got a serious case of the heebie-jeebies.
There aren’t even many instances I can come up with in my brain where I would consider using the word heebie-jeebies, but that experience in Jake’s truck seemed to match the phrase pretty well.
“Can we turn that off?” I asked quietly.
“Bublé?” he wondered with a scowl. “Am I imagining things?”
I don’t know, but I am, and I have to make it stop.
“Sorry, it’s just been a long day,” I attempted to explain.
“Anything I can do?” He settled next to me on the bed again, staring into my eyes. Returning his smile, I felt my spirits lift a little.
“Yes,” I breathed. “Help me feel like I’m not crazy.”
-§-
A lousy night’s sleep was met by the sun coming up, and as I stretched my right arm over my head and yawned into my left fist, I glanced over at Cole next to me. He had slept soundly all night, obviously not giving any thought to the parental unit who was downstairs on the couch. I was not so lucky, because I could not seem to take my mind off her, no matter how I tried. It wasn’t any sort of thought about her in particular, but just a general sense of strangeness that we were sleeping under the same roof.
Rising and slipping into the bathroom, I began brushing my teeth and soon discovered that nature had decided to play the cruelest of all tricks on me. Every time my toothbrush found its way near the teeth in the back of my mouth, my gag reflex came into play, and I was fighting the urge to vomit. After a couple minutes of attempting the impossible, I dropped my toothbrush on the counter and plunked my head onto my arms in disgust. Exactly how was I supposed to get around that vicious cycle? If I got sick, I would need to brush my teeth, but when I tried to brush my teeth, I would get sick.
I might as well just make myself at home here in the bathroom and not leave for the next few months.
“Camdyn?”
I certainly didn’t feel like discussing my current conundrum with Cole, but I understood his interruption. You can only hear a person gag so many times before checking on them, after all.
“I’m fine,” I stated half-heartedly. To emphasize my point, I exited the bathroom just a minute later, pasting a fake smile on my face. “Is it the second trimester yet?”
“Poor Camdyn,” he breathed, propping himself up on his elbows. “You look tired.”
“I didn’t sleep well. What was Rita going to do this morning? Is Bill picking her up?”
“Why are you worried about Rita?” He motioned for me to climb back into bed, but I stood near his feet as though a statue, my arms crossed over my abdomen.
“I’m not, exactly,” I began, processing the idea in my mind. “I’m more worried about me, with her in my house, if that makes sense.”
“Well, it’s not the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said.” He remained there leaning across my pillow, that smile beckoning me to wrap myself back in the bedspread and forget about Rita. The fact that I couldn’t make myself do exactly that filled me with a tinge of anger, and I let out a groan as I moved toward the door.
“Cam?” he tried once more, raising one dark eyebrow under his disheveled hair. Making a fist, I pointed my thumb at the door.
“Hold the thought, please?” He looked hesitant as I exited the room, but until I rid myself of the distraction in my brain that was Rita, I simply couldn’t process any other train of thought. Trudging down the stairs, I rounded the corner and emerged into the kitchen, seeing her blonde head bent over a cup of coffee at the dining room table, immersed in my book. Clearing my throat quietly, I watched as her eyes rose to meet mine.
“I hope I didn’t wake you,” she said quie
tly.
“No.” Moving across the room, I pulled out a chair nearby and sat gingerly, regarding her over the familiar cover of Crossing Heartbreak. “Is Bill going to pick you up, or…”
She sat up a little straighter, as though I was scolding her for still being at the house. Since that hadn’t been my intention, I offered a slight smile.
“I don’t have to be at the café until ten.”
“Do you want me to drop you off?” The offer wasn’t fully considered before it passed my lips, and I wasn’t sure whether I regretted it or not.
“I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”
“It’s no trouble.”
Um, Camdyn, what are you doing?
“I actually wanted to tell you that I think I’ll go back to the bed and breakfast after work,” Rita offered then, wrapping her hands around her coffee mug. “I’m very grateful for what you were trying to do, and I appreciate you letting me stay here very much.”
“But…” I continued, sensing a further explanation on the horizon.
“I’ve spent so much time running from my problems, Camdyn. Not that Hannah is a problem, of course – that’s not what I’m saying.” With a heavy sigh, she removed her hand from her mug and ran it over the cover of the book, her finger slowly trailing across the raised letters. “I guess I’m just tired of running, and I’d prefer to face things head on for a change.”
Has the universe been turned upside down?
The natural order of things has most definitely shifted.
Wait - this is just an elaborate dream, isn’t it? I’m not awake yet.
Yeah, that has to be it.
Raising my arm, I pinched myself on the wrist, calmly pretending that I was simply scratching my skin when Rita regarded my action with curiosity.
“Well, I wish you luck,” I told her, feeling slightly stupid but not wishing to add anything that I didn’t mean. There was no way for me to know how Hannah would react to meeting Rita, but none of the scenarios in my head were turning out favorably.
“I wish I had the courage of Willa in your book,” she said with a slight smile. “To set off into the unknown, simply because you’re following your heart…”
“She had something she thought was worth fighting for, no matter the cost.” For a moment, I remembered my search for Willa, and things I discovered that we had in common. A grin tugged at the corner of my lip, and I attempted to keep it to myself, not wanting to explain my innermost thoughts to Rita. We might have been conversing easily enough, but I definitely wasn’t at the “sharing my feelings” stage – nowhere close.
“Yes, well,” she began, looking into her coffee, “I suppose I can’t change the past, but I can start being brave now.”
“Now is good,” I agreed solemnly.
Sadly, it wouldn’t matter, because about an hour after I drove Rita to the café and dropped her off for work, Hannah called to inform me that Maureen had grown tired of her vacation in the boonies, and she was determined to return to civilization. By the time Rita arrived at Rosalie’s, she discovered that the daughter she was finally brave enough to meet was already long gone.
Chapter Nine
My official twelve-week mark on the calendar arrived, and although I knew it was more of a general time reference than an actual cut-off date, I fully expected to have no problem brushing my teeth that morning. Without the careful planning that I had been doing for the past couple weeks, I squeezed a big glob of white toothpaste on my purple toothbrush and shoved it into my mouth like a woman on a mission. When I was halfway to the back of my molars and had to pull my hand back to keep from gagging, though, I stomped my foot and whimpered a bit. The skin issues, back pain, constant bathroom trips – those I could manage. The fright I felt at not being able to wear my shoes much longer – well, I had managed to keep it together on that front for the time being. Not being able to brush my teeth, though? It simply couldn’t continue without destroying my life.
I had informed Cole of that fact the night before, and after he gave me a somewhat condescending “you really are insane” look, he agreed that it would be detrimental to his life as well. What good was it to have toothbrushes in every logical place imaginable if they were of no use?
It was tragic, truly.
As I had countless mornings before, I fought through the trauma, because having a dirty mouth was not an option. Never had been, never would be – not even for that little one growing inside me. (The baby websites said at twelve weeks he or she was about the size of a lime. Somehow, calling the baby a kumquat had seemed more romantic. A lime was slightly boring, wasn’t it? So, I found another website that said the size was about that of a passion fruit. That description was a lot easier to get behind.)
“What time did you say your appointment was?” Cole asked from somewhere beyond the door.
“Nine-thirty,” I stated, gingerly attempting another stab at dental hygiene. Three momentary gag interruptions later, I was finally content with the results.
“Do you think maybe you are having twins? That could explain why you’re constantly feeling sick.”
Throwing open the door, I regarded him with nearly frantic eyes, standing there with my arms hanging limp at my side. He laughed quietly, and I shook my head slowly.
“You shouldn’t joke about such things,” I instructed. “My nerves and blood pressure could be in a very precarious state.”
“So you don’t want to talk about the possibility at all?” he pressed further, stretching a cornflower blue t-shirt over his head. When I saw his eyes emerge over the top of that t-shirt, I could tell he was smiling.
Sighing, I smoothed the black Poison t-shirt across my abdomen, looking down and studying my still virtually unchanged waistline. If I squinted really hard, I could make it look like I might have eaten too much of Rosalie’s apple pie. It didn’t seem at all likely, or even plausible, that there could be two babies growing in there.
“No, I don’t want to talk about that at all, thank you very much.”
He laughed, folding his arms across his chest. “Well, we should at least figure out what to do with the bedroom, don’t you think?”
“Sure, I guess.”
“You are so unpredictable,” he shook his head, walking to the closet to retrieve his shoes. “You discover some slight mystery and get so excited you can’t act like a sane person, but preparing to bring forth life into the world… Well, that doesn’t much spark your interest.”
Following him to the closet, I stopped abruptly when he turned and nearly knocked me down. “How can you say that I’m not excited? Of course I’m excited!”
“No, you’re manic.” He offered a slight laugh, staring me down from inches away.
“Manic?!” I huffed. “Do you even realize what you just said? In your explanation of why I’m not excited, you just called me wildly and hysterically excited.”
“Should I have said unhinged? Deranged?”
“I have a basic understanding of the English language,” I argued, placing my hands on my hips. “You do not need to provide endless synonyms for manic.”
“True, but now you’re angry, and as usual, that looks adorable on you.” As a heart-melting grin spread across his face, I pulled my hands up to cover my eyes momentarily, shaking my head in disgust.
“That’s cruel,” I whispered. “I can’t believe you said all that just to get a rise out of me.”
“I would apologize had I done what you just implied, but I do think you’re manic. Last night, you were going on and on about brushing your teeth. You can’t stop talking about your shoes, as though that random woman in the doctor’s office was a doomsday prophet who informed you that your life would soon be over. You are constantly looking at your stomach…”
Without even thinking, I glanced down at my abdomen, but then immediately narrowed my eyes and returned them to his face. “Those all seem like perfectly logical things to dwell upon, thank you very much.”
“You know what I dwell
upon?” he asked then, cupping his hand around my cheek and staring into my eyes. “I hope the baby looks like you, Cam. I want to look into his or her tiny face and see your eyes looking back at me. I want to wake up in the middle of the night and find your side of the bed empty, only to walk down the hall and find your blonde curls bent over a little bundle in your arms, singing the baby back to sleep.” With a smile, his voice went up slightly and his eyes became more animated. “I want to experience firsts with you – first smile, first word, first steps. I want to know that we combined to create something incredible. Don’t you think about those things?”
Do I?
Continuing to stare at him through glassy eyes, I attempted to divert his direct gaze. “Are you trying to make me cry? I have a slight hormone issue, you know.”
“Always the jokes when I’m trying to be serious,” he sighed, letting his hand drop from my cheek. Wrapping my fingers through his, I smiled up at him and took a deep breath.
“Okay, you asked, so prepare yourself,” I teased, somehow not relishing the idea of being perfectly honest about the subject. “Do you remember the night we were at Charlie and Trina’s house when they brought Cooper home? I woke up in the middle of the night, and you were standing there, holding Cooper like it was the most natural thing.”
“You were spying on me?” he asked, raising one dark eyebrow.
“Of course,” I admitted with a slight laugh. “I think about that sometimes, because I can see that picture in my mind. You just have that natural ability to be a great father.” He squeezed my hand a little tighter. “I don’t have that confidence in myself, Cole. The thought of being left here with a baby fills me equally with excitement and sheer terror.”
“That’s normal,” he insisted.
“Is it? When I think about how a parent should be, I see my grandma cooking dinner and comforting me when I felt sick. No matter how hard I try, I can’t make myself fit into that role.”
“Then stop trying to see yourself fitting in, and just accept who you’re meant to be.”
For No Reason (The Camdyn Series Book 4) Page 11
