by Stella
“Where are you going to put the baby’s room?” Ellie asked while holding one of her twin boys. He was sound asleep in her arms, and it made me think about how I would get to do that soon with my own son. The other one was on a blanket at her feet, gnawing on some plastic toy like a hungry Chihuahua.
Katie, who’d barely said two words since Ellie arrived, just looked at me, as if I had all the answers. Which I did, most of the time. “Why would he need a whole room? A crib can’t possibly take up that much space.”
Ellie waved me off. “Trust me…you’ll want the baby in its own room.”
“Then he can take Granny’s.”
“The master suite? You just got done saying a baby doesn’t take up much space, so why give it the biggest room in the house?” Silly Ellie. She knew nothing.
“Fine, then the hall closet.”
After years of knowing me, Ellie realized she’d be smart to give up instead of continuing to question my every answer. So, she changed the subject. “I saw you two made the sports channel today.”
“What?” Finally, Katie joined the conversation—although I wasn’t sure I liked her tone.
“Yeah, they were all trying to figure out who you were. Welcome to the world of Gage Nix.”
I held my arms out wide and said, “I have my own world! I shall be king. And you…” I sang and pointed to Ellie. “You shall be queen.”
“I could’ve told you that would end badly.” Leave it to Katie to pop my bubble.
“I’m sorry, would you like to be queen?”
“Not yours.”
“Burn,” Ellie added with a laugh.
“Hey, Ellie? When are you going to let me see your knockers?” I figured it was worth a try. For all I knew, after almost four years of being married to Coby, she was ready to give in to her carnal need—me.
She checked her watch. “About a quarter till never.”
“Oh, come on. You’ve spread your legs for countless people. I’m just asking for the milk jugs.”
Katie slapped my chest. “Gage! What the hell?”
“What? She has. They even fingered her and probed her and shit.”
“How many times do I have to explain this to you, Gage?” Ellie made it sound like she’d said this a hundred times. There was no way I’d heard it more than sixty. “They are doctors, and I was pregnant. And they weren’t fingering me…they were checking my cervix. Plus, they were all women.”
“That just makes it even hotter.”
Out of nowhere, something hit me on the back of the head. When I turned around, I found Coby bent over in hysterics. “Dude, I swear I thought it would hit the back of your chair.”
On the ground behind me was a bag of hamburger buns. “You were the best pitcher the MLB has ever seen. You know damn well you meant to hit me in the head.”
“It’s bread. Get over it.”
“Your wife has panties with my number on them. Get over it.”
Just when I’d managed to silence Coby, Ellie came to his rescue. “Yeah, they’re my menstrual panties. Keeps me from ruining the good ones.”
“That’s just wrong on so many levels.”
“Everything about this conversation is wrong,” Katie chimed in. “But back to us being on the news…what did they say? Has anyone found out about me?”
Ellie shook her head. “No, as far as I know, they don’t even have your name. Just that you were his grandmother’s nurse. Although, they did show a photo of you two holding hands at the stadium, and someone had zoomed it in to point out a possible baby bump.”
“Oh, shit,” Katie whispered.
I could only look at her, wondering why she was so concerned about people finding out that she was pregnant, or that it was my baby.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure the rumors will die down in no time.” If only Ellie knew just how wrong her prediction was.
Chapter Five
Katie
The rumors hadn’t died down. In fact, they’d picked up. Every time I turned the television on and there was any mention of the Titans, Gage’s name came up, followed by another shot of the two of us together. The first one that had aired—the one Ellie told us about—was taken while we were in Boston. Since then, images of us surfaced at the airport, the grocery store, and the furniture place Gage took Granny’s table to. And in every one, we looked progressively more domestic. Luckily, my baby bump wasn’t so prominent that anyone could be certain I was pregnant, and while Gage was home, no one dared get close enough to us to ask any questions. Then the first night Gage was gone, a reporter caught him after the game.
“I don’t know what you wanted me to tell them, Rice Crispy. No one’s going to believe Gage Nix has a woman next to him that isn’t getting the snap, crackle, and pop.”
Remaining calm where Gage was concerned always took a monumental effort. Life was so much simpler for him. He’d been in the limelight for years—he was made for it. He shined when the world watched. I, on the other hand, preferred to linger in the shadows unnoticed.
“Did they ask about the baby? Or figure out my name?”
“Why are you so freaked out about it? If you’d just come out and tell the world we were all about the wicky-quicky, they’d lose interest and move on. They’re only reporting on it because you’re a mystery.”
I needed to add the term “wicky-quicky” to the list of those Gage was forbidden to ever use to describe anything about me. “What am I supposed to come out and say, exactly? We aren’t in a relationship.” I hated doing this over the phone. If I could see his face, I’d know what he was thinking—as it stood, it was either this or text. With my luck, someone would get ahold of his phone records and publish those, too.
“Being your baby daddy absolutely gives us a status.”
“Yeah, well, ‘it’s complicated’ doesn’t exactly kill off the vultures—it feeds them.”
“I’m starting to think you’re ashamed of me, Katiebug.” Gage was horrible at hiding his bruised ego.
“It’s not that at all.” There was so much I wanted to tell him. Scratch that. There was so much I wanted to erase from my past so I didn’t have to tell him. He had no idea just how vast Pandora’s box was or even that he’d opened it.
“Enlighten me, then. What is it?”
Once again, he gave me an opening I refused to take. I hesitated, the truth on the tip of my tongue. “Nothing.”
He started to speak and then covered the phone. The muffled voices in the background indicated someone else was around. “Sorry about that. Where were we?”
“Saying goodnight. It’s late, and I can barely keep my eyes open.” And if I stay on the phone, I’ll end up telling you more than you want to know.
“Okay, sleep tight. Give the little guy a kiss for me and tell him I love him.”
“I’ll tell her.”
I didn’t turn the television on for fear of what I’d see. Gage called before the news aired to warn me about the reporter. I didn’t have the energy to listen to it tonight, and I knew it would replay on the morning news and every recap of last night’s game tomorrow.
And the next morning, I was right. There was Gage—looking devastatingly handsome—talking to the toothy girl from one of the sports stations. It was hard to be mad at him. He’d done everything he could to protect me and tried to divert the conversation away from his personal life and back to the game. She was relentless in her pursuit of the story she wanted. I rolled my eyes, thinking she’d fought hard to win a role in a man’s world, and then she used the opportunity to report exactly what women wanted to hear. Men didn’t give a crap about who Gage was getting jiggy with—just how many balls he knocked out of the park.
After I ate breakfast—at our recently returned and refinished kitchen table—I turned the television off. I still hadn’t found a job, even though it felt like I’d applied at every low-skill establishment within a twenty-mile radius. I needed to keep my mouth shut about my current condition; I just didn’t think it was fai
r for a company to hire an employee thinking they were getting one thing and end up with a beached whale who needed maternity leave in a few short months. The American’s with Disabilities board would have a field day with the establishments in Tuscaloosa if they ever caught wind of half the things I’d heard regarding my inability to obtain gainful employment.
Nevertheless, I kept trying. There had to be someone in town willing to give me a job. It wasn’t like I was stupid. I had a college degree, which was often used against me. I felt like Kevin Spacey in American Beauty interviewing with high school kids for jobs running a cash register. I’d even gone so far as to recite that monologue to one manager who clearly didn’t appreciate my performance—likely because he hadn’t been alive when the movie came out and didn’t get the reference.
At the end of another fruitless day, I stopped by the grocery store where Gage had set up an account. I took my time roaming the aisles—there was nothing at home that held any interest. When I finally reached the checkout line, I was barely able to keep my eyes open and virtually asleep on my feet. I leaned against the handle and waited for the guy in front of me to finish unloading his stuff onto the belt.
I hadn’t expected him to speak to me, and therefore, I wasn’t listening when he did. “Huh?” Not one of my finer moments. At least I tried to open my eyes and appear less sloth-like.
“It is you.”
“Excuse me?”
He waved his finger at me trying to confirm…something. “Yeah. Definitely. You’re the Hometown Princess.”
I shook my head from side to side and quirked my mouth in confusion. “Totally not following you.”
“You were on the front page of the sports section this morning. Gage Nix’s girl.”
Kill me now. “You must have me confused with someone else.” I feigned indifference.
“Nope. Not unless you have a doppelganger or a twin running around in Tuscaloosa.”
The blank stare I gave him only served to solidify his suspicion. I prayed he’d let it go. I hadn’t seen whatever he referred to, and I just needed to get out of the store unscathed and unidentified. As tempting as it was to leave my cart and run to my car to escape, I had just spent over an hour going down every aisle in this place to get enough food to last until Gage came home. If I left, I’d have to do it again tomorrow.
“What’s your name? Everyone’s dying to know.”
“Everyone? Surely not.”
“So you admit you’re her?”
“I don’t know who her is, so no. I admit nothing.”
“You even talk like him. Did he teach you that trick?”
Jesus, I wasn’t a dog. “Nope, I learned to speak all on my own.”
“Sir?” Thank God the cashier wasn’t interested in anything he was trying to convince himself of. She only wanted to move her line along, and he was holding it up.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” He moved to the credit card machine and swiped his card while the bagboy finished putting his stuff in the cart.
Please offer to walk him out. Please offer to walk him out.
“Can I help you to your car, sir?” Thank you! Simon—according to his name badge—didn’t wait for Nosy Ned to respond as he moved toward the door.
I wasn’t sure how Simon finagled it. Not only had he gotten Gage’s fan to leave me alone, he’d also gotten him out of the building.
“That was a dick move.” The teenage girl running the register appeared as interested in ringing up groceries as I was in the guy who’d just left. If “surly” had a picture in the dictionary, it would be of this chick. Although I had to admit—even though it wasn’t my taste—her eye makeup looked like an artist used her lids to create a masterpiece. I noted her eyeshadow was also the only color anywhere on her—other than her lips.
“I’m sorry?”
She jerked her head toward the exit. “That guy. Why can’t people just leave celebrities alone?”
I couldn’t deny any association to Gage with this girl. I had to give her his name to pay for the food. “I’m not a celebrity.”
“No, but still, just because you’re dating one doesn’t give anyone the right to pry into your personal life.” Her voice was like Ben Stein—I’d never heard anything so monotone. And yet, I liked her.
I didn’t know what to say without further implicating myself, and this girl didn’t seem all that keen on becoming besties—not to mention, she had to be at least ten years younger than me.
“I’ll put this on Mr. Nix’s account.” She knew exactly who I was.
Sigh. “Thank you.” Just as I was about to walk away with my cart—funny, the bagboy helped the physically fit guy in his thirties to his car to load his groceries, just not the pregnant girl—I turned and called over my shoulder, “And thanks for your help with that guy.”
She shrugged. “No worries.”
Once I’d loaded my own groceries into my trunk, I grabbed change from the console and went back to buy a newspaper. I was a glutton for punishment. This is what happened when a girl got tangled up with the likes of Gage Nix.
I took the paper back to the car without opening it. The last thing I wanted to do was alert anyone else so they could make the connection. With the door closed and locked, I turned on the overhead light and flipped through the pages to find the sports section.
Ho-ly shit!
“Hometown Princess Plans to Reign as Queen.” And there, right where Nosy Ned said it would be, was a picture of me with Gage sitting on the front porch. My heart raced the more I read. Gage Nix, notorious playboy, looks to have finally settled down with a local sweetheart...seen around town…rumored to be pregnant…a close friend of the couple shared Nix’s plans to propose. I couldn’t read anymore. This was a reputable paper, and almost every line of the story was fabricated or a horrible distortion of the truth.
My eyes kept going back to the picture. I swallowed hard, realizing people knew where we lived. And I was there alone—a lot. The photograph had been taken the last day Gage was in town. We’d sat out on the porch and reminisced about Granny and dreamed about our baby growing up where Gage had. It was one conversation that hadn’t left me wanting to gouge Gage’s eyes out or strangle him. I’d even hugged him and kissed his cheek right before we went inside. Just before I was able to be grateful that shot hadn’t appeared, I turned the page. Gage had only been home for six days. Six. And every one of them had been bastardized by some asshole trying to report a story that was no one else’s business.
I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking and struggled to put the car in drive. The faster I got home, the better. Not that I was away from prying eyes there, either. Tears trickled down my cheeks as I made my way back to Granny’s house. I didn’t think anyone would hurt me, but I was terrified of how they’d crucify Gage when the truth came out. I’d reached the end of the line. He’d be blindsided, and I would ruin his career.
Putting away the food so it wouldn’t spoil justified my procrastination. He’d already sent me a text telling me the Titans won, so I knew he was available to talk. I just had to muster the courage to make the call. I finally climbed the stairs, put on one of his T-shirts and boxers, and then crawled into his bed with my phone and the newspaper. Inside, my heart ached at the thought of making this confession, and my mind raged that my mother had put me in a position to have to do it. I couldn’t change either.
With a deep breath in, I hit the button for FaceTime. I refused to be a puss and hide. If I were coming clean, it would be face to face. I’d prefer to do it in person, but alas, that wasn’t an option. This was the best I could do. It would also allow me to show him the pictures. My face was a mess, and it was obvious I’d been crying—bloodshot eyes and a puffy nose were a dead giveaway.
The line rang once, and I got the audio portion of the call before the video.
“Y’all quiet down. It’s my baby mama.” The guys—I assumed his teammates—hooted and catcalled in the background before his face finally came into focus. “Hey,
Ka—” My name died on his lips, as did his smile.
I waited for him to get to a more private area to talk. He’d already started moving and pushed people out of the way in a less than polite fashion. When I’d first seen him, his eyes were the color of the sky on a spring day, and the gold drop was more yellow than brown—seconds later, they’d morphed into a stormy, steel gray and every hint of happiness that danced in them when he answered the phone had vanished.
The sound of a heavy door clanging shut on his end caused me to jump.
“What’s wrong?”
I swallowed hard, not knowing how to start this discussion.
“Katie. What. Is. Wrong?” The muscles in his jaw tensed, and I could see him grind his teeth, waiting for whatever I dumped on him.
“The newspaper.”
It wasn’t much of a start. It did, however, eliminate him thinking anything was wrong with the baby. And he visibly relaxed. Slowly, he closed his eyes and ran his hand through his hair. “Crispy McCrisperson, is that all?” He chuckled. “Gah, here I thought it was something important. I really wish you wouldn’t let the press get to you.”
“Gage, I—”
“Seriously, Katiebug. Just let me tell them what they want to know. You’ll have another twenty-four, twenty-five weeks of them trailing you and commenting on how you are or are not carrying the baby weight—I warned you about staying active so you didn’t gain—”
“Gage.” I tried to interject a second time, yet he kept talking over me.
“—too much weight. You’re cute though, so no one will care. And then once the little bundle of joy is dropped off by the stork, the attention will shift to him. You’ll be hated by women all over the world for stealing the heart—and the DNA—of America’s heartthrob, but once they see his handsome face, they’ll forgive you.”
I didn’t have time to unpack all the baggage he just loaded into a handful of sentences, nor was I sure I wanted to. “Gage!”
“There’s no need to yell. What’s up, buttercup?” He stopped walking and finally stood still.
