Waiting on You

by Kristan Higgins

  She took a step away from him.

  "You knew?"

  Well, shit. "Yes."

  She closed her mouth. Opened it. Closed it again, then spoke. "You saw them together, and you never told me?" Her voice bounced through the huge, vacant foyer.

  "I didn't know how to break it to you."

  "So you did nothing? Let me sit there like an idiot, thinking my father was the best guy in the damn world, and he was screwing another woman the whole time?"

  "Colleen--"

  "What was this? A man-to-man agreement or some such shit? You didn't think I'd want to know about this?"

  "Okay, look. I should've said something, and I didn't. I'm sorry."

  "Oh, you're sorry. Well, that's fine, then. You've been lying to me for--how long? How long have you known? Specifically, Lucas."

  He grimaced. "Since February."

  "Since February?" The last word was a shriek. Bernard peeked around from the elevator banks again and shrugged, male sign language for Dude, if I could help you, I would, but you're up shit creek, man.

  Colleen's breath was coming in gasps.

  "Coll, I think you should calm down."

  Again, such a dickhead thing to say.

  "I should-- Wow. Wow, Lucas. Months! You've known for months! Did it ever occur to you that if you'd said something, maybe I could've stopped this? Maybe I could've talked to him, and he would've seen how wrong this was, and I wouldn't have a baby brother or sister on the way right now, did that ever occur to you?"

  "Colleen, if you'd just listen--"

  "I would've loved to have listened a few months ago. Now, not so much."

  He took a deep breath. "Look. I know how you worship that guy. Okay? And I didn't want to say anything, since this is exactly what would happen. You'd get hysterical."

  Dickhead thing to say. He winced and tried to take her hand, but she pulled it away. Folded her arms and looked out the window, her jaw hard. "I'm going home. Don't call me."

  "Colleen, I didn't mean to..." Here came the part where he would beg.

  "In case it's unclear, we're breaking up."

  Her words sucker punched him in the gut. "What?"

  "You have to go to law school, my family's imploding, and maybe we're not the people we think we are."

  "I don't even know what that means."

  "It means," she barked, even as tears spurted out of her eyes, "that I thought you were the kind of person I could trust! But no, Lucas, you've been keeping this huge secret from me, and it's about my family and my father, but you decided who gets to be told and who gets to stay in the dark!"

  "Colleen, just--"

  "I thought we were close, I thought, despite the fact that you're struck mute half the time we're together, that you loved me! But maybe you don't! Maybe I'm just a habit you don't know how to shake. Same as my father can't shake my stupid, oblivious mother, right?"

  "No, Colleen, that's not how it is at all."

  "Yeah? Well, do you want to get married, then?" Her breath was ragged.

  You have the right to remain silent. "Yes. Eventually."

  "I see. Well, I want to get married sooner than eventually." She jammed her hands on her hips, and for the first time, Lucas felt a stir of anger.

  "So you're blackmailing me, is that it?" he asked. "I screwed up, I was trying to protect you--"

  "Don't even go there. Do you want to marry me, or don't you? Do you want to play the field? Is that it?"

  "Colleen, come on." He tried to take her hands, but she stepped back. "There's no one but you, okay? But if you're asking if I want to get married now, at the age of twenty-two, the answer is no. I don't want to live above some garage, I don't want the hassle that goes along with getting married, not to mention staying married. Not right now. I just don't, Colleen. I'm sorry about your father, but...no."

  She was quiet for a few seconds. "Take care, Lucas."

  And with that, she walked out, and he stood there like an idiot, her words surreal, hanging in the air like a noose.

  "Jesus, man," said Bernard. "She's feisty."

  Lucas bolted after her. "Colleen, this is stupid. We don't have to break up."

  "Yes, we do," she said, yanking open the door of her Honda. "If you think of being married to me as a hassle, we do. Now, I'm sorry, but I have a ten-hour drive."

  "Colleen, don't be irrational." On such a roll tonight, really. But honestly, she couldn't issue an ultimatum just because she was upset. That wasn't how things worked.

  "You had a choice. You made it. Goodbye."

  Nice. Did she think he was about to drop to his knees and say, "Yes, baby, whatever you want, just don't leave me." For the life of him, she looked as if she was about to rip his heart out of his chest and eat it like an apple. "You're acting like an idiot," he said.

  "That's great," she answered. "Who could resist such tender and beautiful words? Really. I'm all choked up. Fuck you, by the way."

  She got in the car, slammed the door and threw it in gear, laying down some rubber as she left. Screeched around the corner.

  He pulled out his phone and texted her. Slow down and call me later. We're not done.

  She may have slowed down. She didn't call.

  He called her the next day. When it went to voice mail, he hung up and called the house. Connor answered.

  "Is Colleen around?" he asked.

  "We're kind of in the middle of something," Connor said tightly.

  "Yeah. She told me. Uh...can you have her call me?"

  "I'll tell her you called." Connor hung up.

  Fine. She was mad, he understood. She could call him when she wanted to. But he wasn't going to marry her because she ordered him to or as some kind of Band-Aid; he'd marry her when they could have a good life together. That had always been the plan, and she knew it.

  Colleen had never gone without. Lucas had. He remembered his sister at the age of sixteen, spending hours to get across town, taking three buses to the store that had double coupons once a month. He remembered knowing not to ask for seconds because whatever was left over would be tomorrow's dinner, too. He'd been poor, and he'd seen what a lack of money had driven his father to do, and he was damned if he'd bring Colleen into that life.

  As for the situation with her father...that was wretched. He knew this must be killing her, and the only thing he wanted was to help. But he'd called her, and she didn't want to talk, so it was her move.

  A week later, Colleen hadn't called him.

  Fine. She wanted to take a break, fine, that was great. Smart, even. She had shit going on, and so did he. Classes. Finals. He'd be going to Loyola for law school. Stephanie had found another, slightly nicer apartment and needed him to help her move. Maybe Colleen would realize that all or nothing wasn't the way to play this. Maybe she'd miss him.

  It took him a month to snap.

  He took a bus to Manningsport and got there at nine-thirty that night with a massive headache from diesel fumes and the rose perfume of the old lady next to him, who hadn't stopped talking since Terre Haute. He stood for a minute on the green, breathing in the clean air, the smell of the lake and recent rain. The town was quiet, and it took a minute for Lucas to acclimate from the roar of the Greyhound bus, the squeal of its brakes.

  The Black Cat was open.

  Despite thirteen hours of thinking of nothing else, Lucas suddenly wasn't sure what he was going to say. Hopefully, when she saw him, she'd give him that smile and say, "It took you long enough, idiot," and all was fine with the two of them, and yes, marriage now wasn't the best idea, of course she'd wait. She loved him. And this time, he'd tell her the same thing.

  Still, he hesitated, not sure if walking through the door was the best plan. From the green, he could see the bar was crowded. Probably, being May, there was some kind of wine thing in town, as there was most weekends during the spring and summer (and fall, and half of winter). Sure enough, there were plenty of out-of-state license plates on the cars parked in the street.


  Maybe she wasn't even there. Maybe he should go to her house and throw pebbles at her window, like he had the summer after high school graduation.

  He'd take a look inside, see if he caught a glimpse of her.

  The windows on the side of the bar showed the pool table and a little open area where people sometimes danced. And sure enough, Colleen was there, and his heart lurched so hard he staggered a little.

  She was talking to some guy he didn't recognize, and she was laughing, and God, he'd missed her so much, he'd forgotten how beautiful she was even if he had a dozen pictures of her, and it was so stupid that they'd gone twenty-nine days without--

  Then she kissed him. The guy who made her laugh.

  Really kissed.

  As in, kissing.

  Lucas stepped back. Kept looking, though.

  The guy's hand went to her ass.

  She didn't move it.

  He wanted to look away, but he couldn't. He wanted to kill that guy, unleash his South-Side talents and go for it. Grab her by the hand and drag her out of there and remind her just who she belonged to, and yes, beg her to take him back.

  She wasn't supposed to need reminding. She loved him. So she said, anyway.

  The kiss ended, thank God. Another smile. She laid her hand on his chest and said something, giving him that grin--the grin that promised so much, that Lucas had seen countless times, slightly knowing and...and...

  Almost without realizing it, he was walking. Past the library. Past the other restaurant. Post office, candy store, antiques, antiques, bakery.

  He wasn't sure where he was supposed to go, really. Didi's house was out of the question. He felt as if he'd been sliced open with a blade so sharp he was a little confused as to why his guts were spilling onto the street. Hey, where's all this blood from? Are those intestines? That'll leave a mark, won't it? Band-Aid's not gonna help that one, pal.

  He spent the night on a bench in the little cemetery, a place where Colleen wouldn't see him just in case she drove past. The sky was black, and somewhere nearby, a stream shushed gently, counting the hours as they dragged past.

  The next morning, when the sky was just turning pink, he hitchhiked into Corning and caught a bus to Chicago.

  He skipped his graduation ceremony the next week. Started both jobs he'd lined up for the summer. Took his nieces to the beach. Went running along Miracle Mile.

  And then one day, he ran into Ellen Forbes, a classmate from college. Also a political science major, also from Chicago itself, though not a Southie, no way. A Cubs fan and everything.

  He knew her, of course. Ellen was nice. One time this past year, she'd had a study group at her parents' apartment--a two-story, massive penthouse overlooking the lake. Her parents had been away, but a maid or housekeeper set out trays of food: lobster macaroni and cheese, filet mignon sliders, Greek salad, sweet potato fries. Wine and microbrewed beer. Ellen was cool about it, neither embarrassed by her family's wealth nor stuck-up about it. It was what it was. He mentioned that he worked on a Forbes Properties job the summer before; she said she hoped they treated him well.

  She'd always seemed happy. Pleasant. Nice. They were friends, a little bit, anyway. Ate together occasionally, always with other people, too, and took a lot of the same classes. She always said hello and chatted, the kind of easy and graceful conversation he imagined they taught in finishing school, whatever that was. She was headed for law school, too, at Northwestern.

  It was about a month after graduation when she came to the construction site where he was working. It was his third consecutive summer working for Forbes Properties, and there she was, talking to a silver-haired guy in a suit--Frank Forbes himself. Lucas waved.

  "Hey, stranger!" she called, and he went over, wearing carpenter shorts and an aging T-shirt, hard hat in hand, and met her father.

  "Daddy, this is a classmate of mine," she said brightly. "Lucas Campbell, my father, Frank Forbes."

  "Good to meet you, son," the man said, shaking his hand firmly.

  "Likewise, sir."

  "You work for me?"

  "Yes, sir. This is my third summer here. Johnny Hall hired me."

  "He's good people, Johnny."

  "Yes, sir. It's a beautiful building."

  Mr. Forbes smiled. "That it is." He turned to Ellen. "Sweetheart, I have to talk with the building inspector. Give me ten minutes, okay, and then we'll grab that lunch."

  "You bet," Ellen said. Her father walked away.

  "I should get back to work," Lucas said.

  "Oh, sure, sorry, Lucas, I didn't mean to keep you." She smiled. "We should grab a drink, since we're both here for the summer. Talk about law school."

  "That'd be nice."

  "Are you free tonight?"

  He hesitated.

  "I meant as friends, Lucas," she said gently. "I know you're seeing someone."

  "No, no, I'm...not."

  Since he'd seen Colleen with that other guy, it felt as if a hard, wooden block had filled his chest, as if that hot, soft place that Colleen had created with her very first glance at him had petrified into something unbreakable.

  A beer with a pleasant woman who'd never been anything other than nice? Why not? "Sure. Let's grab a beer," he said.

  He met her at a bar near her place. They had a drink. They had another. Two beers for him, two glasses of white wine for her. He paid and walked her home, the smell of chocolate from Blommer's thick in the air. Talked about mutual friends, professors, the usual.

  When they got to her place, a town house on North Astor Street, she asked him if he'd like to come up. He said yes. When she offered him another beer, he took it. When she told him to have a seat on her sleek gray couch, he did. Then she kissed him, and he kissed her back, slightly drunk and feeling oddly surreal.

  He hadn't kissed anyone other than Colleen in four years.

  Colleen, on the other hand, had already moved on.

  Ellen was nice. She smelled good. Her lips were soft.

  "Do you want to stay?" Ellen whispered.

  "I don't have anything with me," he said.

  "It's okay. I'm on the Pill." She smiled and kissed his neck.

  So he took her to bed for the simple reason that she was nice, and she was uncomplicated, and he was almost unbearably lonely.

  The hard place in his chest remained.

  In the morning, he thanked her for a nice time and said he'd call her. She smiled, said she had a nice time, too.

  Nice. It was the only word applicable. Ellen was nice. They'd had a nice time. He'd been nice, too.

  Jesus.

  She didn't seem to have any expectations, and she didn't seem needy or desperate. It certainly hadn't felt like his heart might stop because he loved her so much. It had just been sex, and despite the reputation of the twentysomething American heterosexual male, Lucas was finding that just sex and making love were miles apart.

  Because he didn't want to be a dick, he called Ellen that weekend. They went to a movie and he held her hand, and when it was over, he apologized. He had to be at his construction job at 6:00 a.m., which was the truth. Maybe they could do this again, since it was all so nice. He kissed her quickly. She emailed him a few days later, saying she was going away for a while with her mom. Have a great time, he responded.

  Three weeks later after they'd gotten that beer, she called him and said she needed to see him. It would be best if she could come over.

  Before she even got there, he guessed. She waited until he'd gotten her a glass of water and sat across from her at his tiny kitchen table before saying the words.

  "It appears that I'm pregnant. And I'm so sorry."

  "No," he said. "It's...it's not...it's fine." There were probably better responses he could've made, but his mind was a roaring white space at the moment.

  Ellen cried a little--hormones, she said, and apologized repeatedly. She'd been on antibiotics a few weeks before, and apparently, that weakened the birth control. He told her it wasn't her fault, ju
st biology. She admitted to being in love with him since freshman year but knowing that he had a girlfriend back home. She wasn't asking him for anything, but he had a right to know that she'd be having a baby, and even though the circumstances were far from ideal, part of her felt blessed.

  He looked at his hands for a long minute.

  "Let's get married," he said finally, meeting her eyes.

  She made some token protestation, but her eyes lit up at the prospect.

  Besides, what else was he going to do? Be a baby daddy? Hopefully get some visitation rights? His father had gotten his mother pregnant with Steph, and they'd worked out okay. They'd been happy.

  He'd been raised to be honorable, despite how things might've looked from the outside. He'd gotten a girl pregnant, and he'd stand by her.

  Just how things had become so badly butchered between him and Colleen...he couldn't think about that anymore. He was going to be a father.

  CHAPTER TEN

  "MOM, LET'S GO already!" Colleen bellowed up the stairs of her childhood home. "We're gonna be late."

  "This is Satan's plan," Connor said mildly.

  "Oh, yeah? Got any better ideas, brother mine?"

  "You could set yourself on fire. That'd probably be more productive."

  Colleen narrowed her eyes at him. "Look. She's finally interested in meeting someone else. Take a gander, Con. This place is a shrine to Dad." She looked back up the stairs. "Mom! This place is a shrine to Dad, for the love of God! You should redecorate!"

  "You're right, Colleen. Maybe I'll just burn the whole house down."

  "Is she serious?" Connor muttered. "It's always hard to tell."

  "I don't know. You're her favorite."

  "Don't burn the house down, Ma," Connor said as Mom emerged (finally) from the bathroom. "And you look very nice."

  "Are you ready to go, Colleen?"

  "I've been ready for forty minutes," she said. Any outing with Mom tended to be like this. Suicide-provoking, in other words.

  "Have fun, you two. You'll be the prettiest ones there," Connor said, securing his position as favorite.

  "Thanks, Mr. Cutie Potatoes." Mom beamed.

  "You know what would be so great, Cutie Potatoes?" Colleen said. "If you came with us."

  "That will never happen."

  "Why? You're single!" Mom said. "I want grandchildren. Now."

  "I'm not going to art class," Connor said. "Is it even art class, or is it just a meat market?"

  "It's art class. Please."

  It was art class with a side of meat market. Singles art class, mind you, and yes, Colleen was trying to trick her twin into coming along. Granted, Colleen loved singles events. Loved them! Singles events were to her what Gaul was to Julius Caesar. She came, she saw, she conquered. Granted, her search for a sugar daddy had been fruitless thus far. The truth was, she had a soft spot for older men and liked to give them an ego boost by flirting with them. Sharing her gift with the world, that was all. Looking for a serious relationship...not so much.