Plan Overboard (Toronto Series #14)

by Wardell, Heather

  I start to nod, then reconsider. "I think it's half the baby, especially that I'm having it on my own, and half that I didn't tell him about the baby until yesterday."

  She makes a thoughtful sound. "I can see how that might bother him."

  "But it's Austin," I say. "Right from the beginning he was all 'what'll we do for the few days we have here?'. He made that so clear. I never in a million years thought he'd..."

  My throat tightens again, and she shakes her head slowly. "Don't take this the wrong way, but neither did I. Not because it's you but because it's him. But..." She gives me a sad smile. "He really has fallen for you."

  "Past tense," I mumble. "He was so mad at me last night."

  "I can understand being surprised, and maybe being hurt that you didn't tell, but why is he mad?"

  I rub my mouth, wondering what to say. I know why: because he shared his secrets, opened himself up, and I didn't. But will I violate his trust by saying that?

  Not if I don't say what he said, I decide. "We talked a lot, about all sorts of things about our lives and everything, and he didn't like that I kept the baby from him because it's such a big deal."

  She tips her head to one side, frowning, and then her face clears. "He told you things, didn't he? Important deep things."

  "Things like what?" I say, feeling a new level of sadness. He told her too. All the stuff he claimed he'd never said before, he'd actually—

  "I have no idea," she says. "All he's ever told me is that he's a flirt and a playboy and he'll never fall in love. But he told you more, I'm thinking, stuff that really mattered to him, and that's why he's so upset that you didn't tell."

  I fall back on the bed. "Yup. I'm a monster."

  She slaps my knee. "You are not. Look, if you'd told me the first day that you're pregnant— oh, and congrats, by the way. I've got a few friends who had kids on their own and they're all so glad they did. I'm so happy for you."

  I sit up, my eyes filling with tears. "Thank you. The nurse at the clinic congratulated me too but other than that nobody has, since nobody knows. I'm scared out of my mind but happy too."

  "Of course you are," she says, her eyes suspiciously shiny. "Both parts. I feel the same way."

  We smile at each other, both blinking, and she says, "Oh, as I was saying. If you'd told me, I'd have told you not to tell Austin because there'd be no point since you'd never see each other after the cruise. So if you're a monster, so am I. And I don't think I am."

  "But I hurt him," I mumble.

  "I... yeah," she says, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, but I've never seen him like he was this morning."

  My hand goes to my throat, where the pain from the up-rushing tears I'm trying to hold back is almost unbearable. "What was he like? Is he going to be okay?"

  She considers me for a long moment. "He looks kind of like you do. Exhausted and miserable and like the whole world's changed and he doesn't know what to do about it."

  "That's exactly how I feel. You've got a way with words."

  She gives me a tiny smile. "I'd better, given my career."

  I return a smile of the same size, then say, "And it has changed. I kept telling myself this was just a fling, just some fun and some kissing and nothing more. But..." I shake my head and rub my hand over my forehead, then grimace. "I'm all sweaty and gross. Sorry."

  She lays the back of her hand against her forehead. "Oh, the agony. I'm fine, but you might feel better if you have a shower?"

  I realize I would. "Good idea." She doesn't need to sit around and wait for me. I have to face this on my own, figure out how to move forward without him. "Thanks for coming and for ordering me the food. It was really nice of you. Have a good day, okay? Don't worry about me."

  She frowns, then says, "Do you want me to go or do you think I want to? Because I am worried about you, and about Austin, and if I'm helping at all I want to stay and keep helping."

  Her sincerity is obvious, and it chokes me up. "You're helping," I whisper.

  She pats my shoulder. "Then go shower, but hurry up. Belinda and I might eat all your food when it gets here."

  "Georjenna and I," I say, using the nickname out loud for the first time, "will not be impressed."

  She grins, but says, "Georjenna?"

  "George or Jenna."

  "Ah. That's cute. If I'm wrong and ours isn't a girl it'll be Nolan. Nobel?"

  "Nolinda," I say, then shake my head as she does. "Don't do that one."

  "Definitely not. Linda already assumes Belinda's after her."

  "I guess it almost is, in a way," I say, then feel bad when Melissa grimaces. "Sorry. It's not, really."

  "Sure it is." Melissa sighs. "We were going to make Belinda the middle name, but with all the stuff around Owen I thought maybe sort of calling the baby after Linda would make her feel better."

  I tip my head to one side, distracted for the first time from my own problems. "But I thought... isn't Owen married now too? So it should all be fine now, right?"

  She wrinkles her nose. "You'd think. But Linda was never much of a marriage fan before and me leaving Owen at the altar doesn't seem to have improved that. She said some nasty stuff leading up to my wedding with Nicholas about how stupid it is to get married. And then Owen met and married Celia right away, and though Linda's done that herself she seems to think it's horrible and my fault. And Owen and Celia didn't come on the cruise, and she's always had all three boys here, and she keeps hinting that's all my fault too and to be honest—" She claps her hand over her mouth. "Sorry. Geez. I'm supposed to be helping you, not the other way around."

  I smile at her, sorry she's having trouble too. "You are. Definitely."

  "Good," she says, smiling back. "Now go have that shower. It'll help."

  She's right: I feel far better when I'm clean and dressed in fresh clothes instead of the now-crumpled dress Austin bought for me. I hang the dress in the bathroom to air out, wondering if I'll ever be able to wear it again. It's beautiful, but it'll forever remind me of the night I've just spent.

  When I open the bathroom door the scent of bacon makes my stomach growl. "Tell me you and Belinda didn't eat it all."

  She holds up a slice of toast. "We swiped this but otherwise it's all yours."

  I set to, and between us we clear the tray.

  "You didn't have breakfast?"

  She laughs. "I did, but I guess I got hungry again."

  Comfortably full, I crawl to the back of the bed, lean back against the pillows, and say, "Okay. What do I do now?"

  As she moves over to sit beside me she says, "I've been thinking while I've been stuffing my face, and I don't know whether this will work, but if you want me to try I'll gladly talk to him. He..."

  I wait for her to continue.

  She sighs. "I don't want to make it worse for you, but he really is devastated. There's no doubt in my mind he's got major feelings for you."

  "Then we're even," I say softly. "Because I did everything I could do not to fall for him and it didn't work. I fell hard."

  "He's an easy one to fall for, no question. But for him to fall too?" She shakes her head. "I told you he'd make you feel like the only girl in the world but he wouldn't mean it. I was wrong. He does mean it this time, for the first time, and I don't think he knows how to handle that. He might not have been able to handle it anyhow, but with you having a baby, with that added layer..." She shrugs helplessly.

  "I should have told him about Georjenna earlier, I guess, but I didn't know how. I wanted to. I really did. If you could maybe try to explain that to him..."

  "I will." She thinks for a moment. "How about this? You take a nap, then spend the afternoon relaxing. Georjenna needs you to take care of yourself. Have a nice dinner with your brother and whoever, and then come to the midnight chocolate buffet. There's a good chance I'll get nowhere with Austin the first few times I talk to him, but I'll keep trying, and with any luck he'll be listening to me in time to meet you at midnight. What do you think?"

>   I nod slowly. "I appreciate it so much. But don't you think I should go find him myself?" It seems wrong to make her do the dirty work of calming him down.

  She shakes her head. "If I know him at all, part of his problem is that he opened up to you, probably for the first time ever, and now he feels like you threw that back in his face."

  I take a breath to protest and she says quickly, "I know that wasn't your intention at all, but I think he might have to put up his defenses more if you talk to him before he's ready."

  It makes sense to me. "Okay. Thank you so much. And good luck."

  She leans over and hugs me. "I promise I'll do everything I can."

  I squeeze her hard. "I know. Thank you."

  I see her to the door and she says, "Take it easy. I know it's awful now, but it'll be okay. This time last year I was about to head to my wedding to Owen, feeling sick and terrified, and now I'm right where I need to be. And once I have Belinda it'll be even better. We'll get you there too. You and Georjenna and Austin. It might take a while but it'll work out. Okay?"

  "Okay," I whisper, hoping with every cell of my being that she's right.

  *****

  I spend my day as Melissa suggested, resting and then hanging out with my brother and his friends and somehow managing to avoid bursting into tears while deflecting their jokes about my finally bothering to spend time with them, but I also do one thing she didn't suggest: I write a letter to Austin.

  This is no time to hold back so I say everything I'm thinking, explaining how sorry I am and how much I wanted to tell him about the baby and how wonderful every moment I spent with him felt to me, and end it with, "I thought we'd just have fun for the few days of the cruise, and I certainly did have fun with you, but it's so much more now. I want to be with you when we go back to our real lives. I don't know how that'll work with the baby, but I need you to know how much I want it to happen. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me and understand why I didn't tell you."

  I go to his cabin after dinner, both hoping and fearing that I'll see him in the hall, and tuck the letter into the rack outside his door where the cruise line leaves important information. There's no more important information than this right now. Once I'm sure it won't fall out and get lost, I go back to my cabin and spend the hours until midnight willing Austin to forgive me.

  The instant I see Melissa at the chocolate buffet, though, I know that hasn't happened. It's just her and Nicholas sitting at a table with plates of delicious-looking desserts before them, and their solemn expressions make it clear Austin's not on his way.

  I go over anyhow, and Melissa says, "I'm so sorry, but—"

  I shake my head. "I know. Thank you for trying."

  "We'll talk to him again after we get home," Nicholas says, sounding awkward but also sincere. "We'll see what we can do."

  "I know he still cares," Melissa adds. "Don't give up. We won't either."

  "Thank you," I manage, and hurry away before I burst into tears. I make it back to my room just in time, then collapse on my bed and sob.

  Don't give up. Why not? They won't be able to do anything. It's over. In the end it was just a fling after all.

  And I miss him so much already.

  Chapter Ten

  My sheer exhaustion means I sleep a little that night, but only a little. I wake up constantly, feeling miserable every time even before I again remember how I've lost Austin, and when I finally give up and get ready for my last hours on the cruise not even all the makeup I plaster on manages to make me look the tiniest bit happy or relaxed.

  When I meet my brother and his friends at the buffet restaurant for our last breakfast before departing, Shari says, "You look awful!"

  Arabella elbows her. "Nice. Why not kick her in the head while you're at it?" Her eyes narrow as she studies me. "You do look tired, though. And sad. Are you okay?"

  Galen's head snaps up. "And you looked upset yesterday too, even though you said you were fine, and you ate dinner with us instead of Austin. What did that bastard do to you?"

  "Nothing," I say quickly. "And he's not a— he did nothing."

  "I'll kill him," Galen says, looking around as if trying to find him.

  "It's between them," Arabella says firmly, almost fiercely. "Let it go."

  "Besides, he's too hot for that. It's not right to kill something that sexy." Shari shakes her head. "I'm so jealous of you. I'd have loved a few days with him. Wouldn't even care if I saw him again."

  Yeah. I did love them. But I do care. My throat tightens and I swallow hard so I can say, "Look, let's just eat breakfast and shut up about it. Okay?"

  "Sure, sure," Arabella says, patting my shoulder. "Everybody shut up."

  We head into the restaurant and she stays close beside me and says softly, "He'd never have made a good boyfriend, not that he'd even consider being one. Just remember the fun you had and don't worry about it."

  What happened to 'everybody shut up'? I can't think of an answer that doesn't involve me screaming at her, so I manage an insincere nod and walk faster to get away from her.

  I can barely eat, although I force down a little fruit and toast for Georjenna's sake, and as we wait to disembark my heart's racing so much I'm afraid I'll toss that food right back up.

  Austin knows what time I'm leaving today. Will he come find me? Did my letter convince him of how sorry I am?

  I flinch every time I see a man who's even close to his height and coloring, and Galen eventually slings his arm roughly around my shoulder and says, "Sorry, sis, but I have to say I told you so."

  "You don't, actually," I say, fighting two equal urges: to shake his arm off me and to bury my face in his shoulder and cry.

  "But I did. First night. I told you he was bad news and he'd end up hurting you and it gives me no satisfaction that I'm right."

  "But you're not right," I snap. "He didn't do anything wrong."

  "Yeah, right. Then why do you look so miserable?"

  I don't respond, but I hear the answer in my head. Because I hurt him. If anyone's bad news, it's me.

  *****

  There's no news of Austin, good or bad, on my way off the ship. I walk down the gangway, remembering with misery the times Austin and I walked it together, and join the rest of my group in a shuttle bus to the airport and fly home and get into my silent apartment and unpack my stuff and cry over the beautiful dress and jewelry he bought me and realize that's all the news there's ever going to be.

  None.

  Mom, luckily, is out of town visiting her sister Phaedra so I don't have to go over there and gush about how amazing the cruise was. I don't think I'd survive that today. So instead I go to bed, though it's only seven o'clock, because I can't face another moment of consciousness.

  I wake up, of course, at three in the morning. As I hold up my phone and make my bleary eyes read the time, they also see the date. March twenty-fourth.

  The twenty-fourth again. Six months since I failed the audition, three months since I learned I'd conceived Georjenna, and the first day of my life with no chance of seeing Austin. Why do all the big scary things in my life seem to happen on the twenty-fourth?

  Part of me thinks I'm being ridiculous about Austin, thinks he couldn't have actually fallen for me given the kind of guy everyone said he was. But I know that part is wrong. He did fall, and I fell for him, and I'm certain he's just as upset as I am.

  My mind flicks to the paper, currently pinned to my bulletin board, on which he wrote his contact information below Melissa's. I could call him. Not right now, obviously, but I could call him or email him and beg for forgiveness.

  But I did beg Thursday night, and Friday in my letter, and Melissa and Nicholas did it for me too, and it didn't work. So why would it work now? I can't think of anything I didn't already say, so what's the point of trying again?

  I crawl out of bed, feeling sluggish and tired and also like the ground's moving beneath me after a week at sea, and pick up the paper. There's no reason t
o keep it. I can't have the relationship I crave with Austin, and talking to Melissa will just keep him painfully clear in my mind.

  I have to forget him, and her. I have to move on.

  It's ironic, really: I went on the cruise so I could relax and get ready for my new life as Travis's assistant, but I'm far less relaxed now. I was relaxed, with Austin, but without him I feel alone and useless and stupid and lost. Like how I felt after the audition. I despise that feeling. My plans are supposed to stop it happening but it keeps coming back.

  My yellow-bound Georjenna planning book is on the desk beneath the bulletin board, and I pick it up and flip idly through its pages, past all the thinking I did and the sticky-note-marked details of how exactly I'll save money and arrange my life so everything will be perfect. I didn't bring it on the cruise because I didn't think I'd need it there, but I was wrong. I needed it to remind me that I have to focus on the future. Letting myself get distracted by Austin was a mistake. I knew up front that we wouldn't be together beyond the trip, and I let myself fall for him and now I'm far worse off. It wasn't in the plan and I should have stayed with the plan. Spontaneity is dangerous.

  I close the book, set it back on the desk, and stare at the paper with Austin and Melissa's contact information. Though I know that throwing it out, or doing something dramatic like shredding it and flushing the bits down the toilet, is probably safer so I don't call Austin in a moment of weakness, I can't make myself do it, and for the same reason I only sold two of my three clarinets.

  Memories of brief moments when I managed not to be a total failure. Followed, unfortunately, by memories of utter disaster.

  I remove the paper from the bulletin board then go to the linen closet and move aside the piles of folded towels that keep me from having to see the clarinet. It was the last gift my dad gave me before he left and so I can't bring myself to throw it away even though I'll never play it again. The mere sight of its brown leather case makes my stomach twist with an echo of the awful pain of the last day I touched its sleek black wood and silver keys. I set the paper atop the case then quickly rebuild the piles so both of them disappear from my view.