by Claire Ashby
The arrangement was fine with me. The nursery frightened me. For once, I found it easier to give up the control than to hold on tight, but that only added to my guilt. Shouldn’t a mother be able to plan her baby’s nursery? I wanted to create a magical place, but no matter how hard I tried to envision it, I came up with nothing. So I welcomed Theo’s enthusiasm.
Because of his boundless energy and his growing strength, I wanted to assume he was healing, but pain dogged him. With the added time we spent together, I noticed he relied more on pills than I’d originally thought. On his bad days, his eyes would be glassy and feverish, his words slurred. On his worst days, he would be sullen, haunted, and withdrawn. He was given a starter prosthetic to train with, but it only brought him frustration.
Theo took his leg in for adjustments, but when he tried to master it, pain raged with each step. His doctor and prosthetist informed him it shouldn’t be that way, but after multiple refittings, he stopped going back. Preferring his crutches, he abandoned the prosthetic leg in his closet. His rehab was a subject he wouldn’t talk to me about. I tried to find my way in, but Theo shut me out.
Cortez, who had a whole array of arms to wear, but most often used his hook, assured me that what Theo was going through would eventually pass.
“When will it get easier for him?” I asked one afternoon when he’d stopped by while Theo was out.
“No amputation is the same,” Cortez said. “The doctors can’t even answer that. Phantom pain is a bitch that screams so loud you can’t think about anything else. Theo’s trying to control it on his own, and that doesn’t usually turn out good.”
“So what do we do?”
“Wait,” he said frowning. “There’s nothing else we can do.”
But waiting for Theo to get worse or to ask for help was not a plan I could follow.
“Hey, I have an idea,” I said one rainy afternoon when we were lounging on the sofa, watching old Seinfeld episodes, each eating Ben and Jerry’s out of the pint.
Theo looked as if he couldn’t wait to hear what I had to say. “What’s your idea?” He spooned a bite of his Cake Batter ice cream into my mouth and then helped himself to a scoop of my Cherry Garcia.
“Since you go to my doctor appointments, I could go with you to your physical therapy.”
His face became unreadable, but he stiffened. “Nope.”
“Why not? I want to.”
“I’m done with physical therapy. I know what I need to do.” He turned up the volume on an argument between Jerry and Newman. “Don’t worry about it. Here comes the good part.” He pointed at the TV.
So I ate my ice cream and watched Seinfeld and worried about Theo. He kept me at arm’s length, never talking about the future, never talking about the present, and in the small stretches of stillness, his eyes illustrated the truth that he was not really there with me. I held on to that truth, telling myself that knowledge could be armor for the heart. But no matter how dark Theo was within, his touch was always tender. His body language whispered of the connection we had in a way his silence withheld. I couldn’t reconcile my desires with our reality, so instead, I put on a happy face, determined to enjoy what was in front of me.
Chapter Fourteen
I stood elbow-deep in flour and sugar when Bradley walked into Café Stay. I’d convinced myself that baking would be a fun respite, but it wasn’t as relaxing as observing Ellie do her magic in the kitchen. I wanted back with the pretty books.
He wore a suit and a blue tie that brought out his eyes. Bradley looked as if he had stepped out of a Hugo Boss ad. “Lord have mercy, it’s true!” His arms spread wide, his mouth open, eyes bright as if I had performed the most amazing magic trick. His gaze went from my face to my belly and back again. “Wow! It is good to see you!” And then before I could recover from the unexpected arrival of my formerly declared life mate, now ex, he wrestled me into a hug. I felt myself naturally redistribute, as if my body had muscle memory of being next to Bradley, and I settled into him in a familiar way, like coming home.
He sniffed my hair. “I’ve missed you. I got back this week, and a little birdie came by and told me about this.” Bradley gestured at my belly, as though he couldn’t come up with the words to describe my condition. “I had to come see for myself.”
I pulled back, conscious of Theo sitting beyond the kitchen doorway. I glanced over Bradley’s shoulder and saw Theo sketching in his notebook. He seemed absorbed in what he was doing, but the tightness in his jaw and the calculated impassiveness of his face gave a hint that he was aware of my company.
“Yes, it’s true. I’m having a baby.” I wasn’t prepared to have the pregnancy conversation with Bradley. “How was your trip? You’ve been gone forever.” I went back to spooning cookie dough onto a sheet.
“It’s all good. You exaggerate. I came back to put the house on the market, tie up loose ends. They want me in China full-time, but I miss you.” He stayed close to me, but he carefully avoided getting too close to the table. Couldn’t risk getting flour on his fancy suit.
“Bradley, that’s great about China. That’s what you wanted.” The timer went off, and I welcomed the chance to move away from him. Grabbing the oven mitts, I called over my shoulder, “I’m happy for you.”
He stepped close to me again. “Meg…” He waited until I looked him in the eye, then pointed at my belly and then at his chest, “That’s not—” He looked almost hopeful.
“No, no.” I shook my head for emphasis.
Bradley’s face dropped. “You’re sure?”
“Yes, without a doubt.” I held my breath, waiting for him to ask for more details, but he didn’t.
“Have dinner with me tonight, Meg. We can catch up.”
“I don’t know. There’s not much else to say.” I looked to Theo, but the reality was, we weren’t even dating. We hung out, ran errands together, watched TV and ate together, plus we were smack in the middle of a mind-blowing sex routine with each other, but to say we had formed any real union was premature.
“Come on, one last dinner. I wish I’d come back for you before now. I get it. I wrecked everything we had. I’m sorry. Give me one last dinner, a final farewell.”
Against my better judgment, I gave in. “Okay, one dinner.” Maybe Theo would tell me not to go. Or perhaps the dinner would be the nudge he needed to realize he was madly in love with me. Sometimes a push was good. A girl could hope.
Bradley embraced me again, planting a warm wet kiss on my cheek. I suppressed a shudder and nodded as he told me he’d pick me up at my place at seven. I watched him go out the door and caught Theo sizing him up.
Theo shut his notebook, stuffed it in his backpack, and shuffled back into the kitchen.
I snatched a cookie from the cooling rack and took a bite, not sure how to juggle between dealing with a man from my past and the man here and now. “These aren’t too bad,” I said with false cheer. “Want one?”
Theo stared at me.
“That’s Bradley.” I sighed, throwing my cookie in the trash. “We’re having dinner tonight.”
“Have fun,” Theo mumbled, turning away. “I’ll be at The Tavern.”
“Wait…”
He gave me an impatient glance over his shoulder.
“It’s for closure. The dinner doesn’t mean anything.” I went to him and looped my arms around his neck, lifting up on my tiptoes to give him a kiss.
At first his lips were still against mine, but when I traced his mouth with my tongue, his resistance crumbled, and he kissed me back hard. His arms came around me, and he held me tight. He ended the kiss first, tucking my head under his chin, still holding on. “You don’t owe me any explanations,” Theo whispered.
When I’d first left Bradley, I was gripped with a guilty fear, worried I might have quit too soon. He was sweet and comfor
table, but a void stretched between us. I could ignore it when he came home every night, but when he traveled, everything missing became larger. Whoever said absence makes the heart grow fonder was delusional. When your man is gone all the time, sure, you miss him at first. Until you realize you hardly notice he’s gone, except when he calls to tell you all the fun he’s having in a new place. You laugh and say nice things, but you look around at the sameness that surrounds you. Over time, you begin to wonder why you’re waiting while he’s out there living. And then one day you realize being alone is better than waiting on someone to remember you’re there.
Our breakup took place over the phone only because he was staying in China for another month, and I couldn’t put my life on hold any longer. Bradley asked me to wait until he got back. But being abandoned in the four-bedroom house we had built depressed me. I grew up with parents always gone, always at work. Bradley pleaded with me to join him in China. He promised I’d be happy there, but if he really knew me, how could he ask me to leave my brother and my bookstore? Bradley loved his job, and I couldn’t ask him to leave. And I couldn’t deny the changes in him after he left for China. We couldn’t connect over the distance. And then, of course, I’d wondered about the girl who’d answered his phone.
I perched on the steps out front, waiting for his arrival. I didn’t want to bring him into the condo. We had too much of a past there. Plus, although I hadn’t seen Theo since I’d told him my dinner plans, I still didn’t want to invite Bradley in and risk Theo showing up. No point in dealing with that awkwardness.
Bradley pulled up fifteen minutes late and waved when he saw me. I lowered myself onto the passenger seat and thought about Theo making his way around the car to open my door. Bradley wasn’t rude—he was a modern guy who spent his days around computers and computer parts, engineers and programmers, drinking large amounts of coffee under fluorescent lights. Conversations with him usually involved him looking at his Blackberry instead of looking me in the eye.
“I can’t get over how much you’ve changed,” Bradley said while I pulled the seatbelt under my bulge. He gripped my belly with one hand, like he was checking on the ripeness of a melon. I smacked him away in a faux-friendly, “don’t touch me” kind of way.
“Tell me about China.” With that request, Bradley was happy to talk about himself, and while he rambled on, I listened to his soothing baritone and marveled at how the past six months seemed to slip away. Riding next to Bradley in his Beemer was so ordinary that the fact that I hadn’t done it in so long was the only thing that seemed off.
He pulled up to Mesa Rosa, our favorite Mexican restaurant, where the hostess sat us at the table we’d called ours, and then over the course of the next hour and a half, every waiter stopped by to congratulate us on our baby. I panicked at first, unsure how to reply, but Bradley was gracious, thanking each person who stopped to talk to us. My worries about the evening faded, and I relaxed into the familiarity of being with Bradley. But I shouldn’t have let my guard down, because once I did, the questions began.
Bradley eyed me warily. “I have to ask…” He crossed his arms, his body folding in. “Were you seeing someone when you broke up with me?”
“No, I promise I wasn’t.”
“Who’s the father?” He studied my belly, waiting.
I felt my cheeks heat. “It doesn’t matter.”
“How can you say that?” he asked.
“Because this isn’t about you.”
“You had to have gotten pregnant the minute you called us off.”
I put my head in my hands, exhausted. “I’m sorry.” I sighed. “I know how it looks. But it’s not about you.”
“I should have made you go to China.” He quickly reached across the table for my hand. I pulled away, but he grabbed my wrist. “I shouldn’t have left you behind.”
He couldn’t be serious. “I would’ve never gone.”
“We can fix this. Go back to the way we were. I’ll help you make this right. You can’t do this alone. We’ll raise the baby together.”
“No, Bradley. We can’t go back. Our relationship is over.”
“I already inquired at the office. There’s a position available with less travel. We could make it work. Everyone thinks that’s my baby. Why won’t you be reasonable and take me back?”
“But it’s not your baby.”
“You’re being ridiculous.” He leaned into the table. “Nobody has to know. It’ll be our secret.”
I groaned. “No!” My resolve fresh, I searched his face for understanding, but instead he reached in his pocket and pulled out the small, fuzzy black box that I used to call my own.
“This belongs to you. I want you to take it back. Sell it, and get something for the baby. Or throw it off a bridge if you want. It’s yours. You get to decide.” He took my hand in his and placed the box in my palm, curling my fingers around it. I was speechless.
Not so long ago, the ring had felt as much a part of me as my own finger. I opened the box, touching the diamond. The ring once stood for so many things. Like the banners that trail airplanes in the sky, I wore it as if to say, “Somebody loves me enough to keep me forever.” By the time I had called off our engagement, and removed the ring, its weight was too heavy. It symbolized the cage I needed to get free of. In spite of that, looking in the box, all I saw was a beautiful ring.
“I can’t take it,” I said.
“You have to—that’s all I ask.”
He wasn’t going to back down, so I closed the box to slip it in my purse, but then I had that old fear I’d lose it. The ring had always been a little loose, ready to slide off and disappear. I popped the box open again, plucked the ring free and slipped it on. For the first time, it fit perfectly. I couldn’t resist the urge to hold out my hand, fingers outstretched to admire the magnificent ring.
Bradley took my hand, keeping eye contact with me as he kissed it. “Thank you.”
We stood and hugged; my eyes filled with tears. My heart ached for all the things we’d never be, but I also knew I had done the right thing. We drove in silence on the ride home, and for the first time, I understood what it meant to have closure at the end of a relationship. There were no more what-ifs or possibilities. The finality of the end freed me to focus on what was real and worthwhile. For me that was Theo, and I couldn’t wait to be with him again.
Theo never came home that night. He didn’t answer his cell, and I didn’t risk pushing him further away by checking in with Jake or Cortez. My worry turned to frustration. The next day I dragged myself through the hours at the bookstore, followed by an evening of hanging out with Ellie. Finally I went home and found him in my bed. He lay in the dark, arms crossed behind his head, his chest rising with each breath.
I marched over to the bed. “Where have you been?”
Theo, though still, looked tense and wound tight. He wasn’t asleep. The moonlight streaming through the windows lit up his eyes. I recognized the medically induced glaze in them.
“I hope I didn’t wake you,” I whispered, going to his side. I’d hurt Theo by going out with Bradley; I could see that now. That was why he’d pulled away, but that didn’t excuse his leaving me worried. “Why do you do this to me? Do you have any idea what it’s like to sit here and wonder where you are?”
“You’re right.” He reached for my hand. “I’m sorry. I’m no good for you. I try and help, and all I do is screw up everything. You deserve better.” His voice cracked.
“I couldn’t sleep last night without you,” I confessed. “I deserve a phone call if you need time away. I deserve the Theo that is here when you are present. I can’t take it when you disappear. When you disappear it hurts me. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”
He didn’t speak when I climbed into bed; he didn’t even move. I placed my hand on his cheek and kissed him, and
though he looked me in the eye, he was still and silent. Longing to connect with him again, I kissed his chest and trailed my hands down his sides. I worked for any reaction, but he remained immobile while I kissed the tight rippled muscles of his abdomen. His breath caught when I licked the warm skin below his navel, dragging my tongue wetly from hip to hip, dipping below his waistband. I put my hand on the bulge in his pants. He was ready for what I had to give.
He lay impassive as I curled my fingers around the waistband of his shorts, tugging them all the way down. I kneeled on the bed between his legs. But as I stroked his thighs and kissed his lower belly, he lost his fight to resist the pleasure I offered. He let out an anguished groan, and I gripped his shaft, lowering my mouth onto him. My hair cascaded over him, and I watched his reaction as I licked him. I swirled his salty moisture with my tongue, finally taking Theo deep in my mouth, working my tongue as I sucked. I wanted all of him, and as I pulled with my mouth, his reserve shattered. He gasped and moaned, his fingers weaving through my hair. Pressing gently into my scalp, he held on, and I matched the rhythm he set.
He grasped me. “Stop!” The word startled me. Theo sat up and reached for me, tugging at my clothes. Climbing on top of him, in a hot slide of bodies melding, I cried out as he thrust inside me. I tightened and clenched around his girth; his hands bit into my hips as he plunged up into me. My head rolled back, bliss tightening every muscle, and I cried out.
His hands moved over me, brushing against my breasts in soft circles. Liquid fire flowed through me. I was sure Theo loved me when I looked into his eyes, full of desire and need. He continued to pump into me, steady and deep; my heart fluttered, pleasure thrummed through my veins, my skin hot all over from his touch. I couldn’t hold back. I moaned and thrashed upon him as heat and wetness surged through me. I came quivering in his lap, and he continued thrusting into me. He went rigid as his whole body shook with release.
