Fourteen

by C. M. Smith

  Our relationship had had its ups and downs—boys at college weren’t as narrow-minded as the ones back in Collins Point, and I’d found that having a jealous boyfriend was equally flattering and annoying as hell.

  Not to say that Mr. Gorgeous didn’t have his own fair share of obsessed stalkers following his fine ass around campus, but I’d expected that. He still spent most nights sneaking into my dorm, after all, so there really was no reason to worry—he’d spent an entire day asking me why it didn’t bother me. I said I trusted him; he took it the wrong way and thought I meant that he didn’t trust me. That was our first big fight; we spent a week without seeing or speaking to each other before I found him camped outside my dorm room one night after class with his head in his hands and about ten dozen roses at his feet.

  Now, even when we were angry at each other, we at least still slept in the same bed. Makeup sex was a really wonderful thing, too. It also resulted in our first child.

  Evan and I had talked about having kids and had decided that when it happened, it happened. I’d stopped taking my birth control pills, and we both did our best not to rush to the drugstore and buy a test every time we made love.

  We’d been married for almost two years, living in a beautiful brownstone in the better part of the city, when I finally realized that I didn’t have the flu. The first thing I did was call Evan, and he’d rushed home from work, three different pregnancy tests in his hand. They had all been positive, but we’d made an appointment with the doctor just to be sure.

  Macie Corrine Drake was the spitting image of her father, and she had the smart-ass attitude to go with it. Her eyes were green like mine, her hair was brown like her father’s, and we absolutely adored her.

  Now we had a beautiful four-year-old baby girl visiting with her Grandpa Bruce while we sat in front of the one place in the world I despised the most.

  “I’m not in a position to relax,” I said, gritting my teeth.

  “You’re not doing anything good for my son in this condition, you know.”

  His hand trailed from my chin and rested on my swollen stomach, as he rubbed it. I sighed and placed my hand over his, linking our fingers and closing my eyes as I concentrated on breathing evenly.

  “We don’t have to stay long,” he whispered, resting his chin on my shoulder and kissing my neck. “Go in, see how horrible the rest of our class looks, and then we can be off.”

  “We promised everyone dinner tonight.”

  “So we did.”

  “You’re a pain in my ass.”

  “You love me.”

  “Your mother paid me to love you.”

  “Is that any way to speak to the father of your children?”

  “Who says the kids are yours? They could be the milkman’s.”

  He laughed and kissed me. “We don’t have a milkman.”

  “That you know of.”

  “Macie looks too much like me.” He grinned. “Maybe this baby will look just like you.”

  “God help him.”

  “Going back to that place again, are we?”

  My self-esteem had been low for eighteen years of my life, and Evan had made it his mission in life to raise it. It had been working well until we pulled into the parking lot of this place. I felt like that same girl I’d been while I was there. Pregnancy hormones didn’t help this situation, either.

  I’d gotten down to a size eight after Macie was born, thrilled that I hadn’t kept the weight from my pregnancy and had somehow managed to lose a little more. Evan hadn’t been so thrilled about it, pouting when I modeled a new pair of jeans for him. I squealed that I’d never been this small in my life.

  He’d told me that I was perfect no matter what size I was—as he often had in the past—and had confessed that he even liked it more when I was heavier. I’d loved him for it but had done my best to keep off the weight. It had worked for a while, until he started bringing home chocolate donuts and cheesecake from my favorite diner in the heart of Manhattan and had never been able to resist.

  A month later, I was buying size twelve jeans, which still made me happy—kind of—because again, the smallest size I’d ever been before Macie showed up was a fourteen. I’d made him promise to stop bringing home that crap if I stopped trying to be thinner, and he’d agreed. Now, four years later and pregnant, I felt like a whale. Granted, it was for a good reason, but showing up to my ten-year high school reunion bigger than ever made me want to hide in the car for the rest of the night.

  “I can’t help it,” I whined, burying my head in his chest.

  “Okay, listen,” he said, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, “this is gonna be a piece of cake, babycakes.”

  “Babycakes?” I asked.

  “Don’t question it.”

  “Can I call you cupcake?”

  “You can call me anything you want if it gets you out of this car.”

  “In public?”

  “Will you get out of the car?”

  “Possibly.”

  “You do know that Kyle will probably tear off the car door in an attempt to get you out of it, don’t you?”

  “He doesn’t know what car we drive.”

  “No, but I’m pretty sure it’s safe to say that we’re the only two still sitting in ours.”

  “There’s a lot of people here. It’ll take him a while.”

  “No, it won’t.”

  “Why did we need to come here again?”

  “I already told you.” He laughed, threading his hand through my hair. “We’re going to see all of our old classmates at their worst.”

  “Or their best.”

  “You’re way too negative for your own good.”

  “You knew this when you married me.”

  “What do I have to do to make you see that none of it matters?” he whispered, trailing his hand down to my stomach. “The only things that matter are you, me, Macie, this little guy, our families, and our friends. These other people haven’t mattered to us in over ten years, Anna. Don’t give them the satisfaction of thinking that they do.”

  I sat back and placed both of my hands over his on my stomach.

  “You’re right.”

  “I know it.”

  I rolled my eyes and he laughed, leaning over to kiss me again.

  “Stay here.”

  “It’s not like I’m going to go very far.”

  He narrowed one eye at me, and I grinned, leaning back in my seat as he climbed out of the car. I tapped my fingers against my stomach, looking down and rubbing it.

  “I hope you’re like your father, little guy,” I whispered, smiling when I felt him kick. “He needs some support keeping your momma sane.”

  I looked up when my door opened and smiled at Evan, placing my hand in his. He helped me out of the car, closed it, and wrapped an arm around my waist, placing the other on my stomach again.

  “Your momma keeps your papa sane, too,” he murmured, leaning down and pressing a kiss on my abdomen.

  My eyes watered, and I looked up at him as he stood up straight. Flinging my arms around his neck, I kissed his jaw reverently.

  “I love you so much.” I sniffled, burying my face into his shirt.

  He chuckled and wrapped his arms around me, hugging me and kissing my temple.

  “I love you too, babycakes.”

  I snorted and wiped my eyes on my shirtsleeve. I wound my fingers through his when he grabbed my hand.

  “Cupcake,” I retorted, sniffling.

  “Yours.”

  I blew out a deep breath, squeezed his hand, and looked up at the school again.

  “Okay,” I said. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “It won’t be that bad, I promise.”

  He winked before leading me to the front doors, each footstep echoing in my head as we stepped closer to the entrance.

  “And if it is?” I asked as I pulled him to a stop in front of the doors.

  “I give you full permission to name our son Jameson
.”

  About a month after Macie was born, Evan had gone out with some friends as a celebration of becoming a father and had gotten completely hammered. He’d been drinking Jameson whiskey and upon his return home, he kept telling me that he loved the name Jameson and wanted to name our future son after the whiskey; that night, he was determined that we were going to have a son. When I reminded him of that the next morning while his head was in the toilet, he’d told me if I did that, he’d divorce me.

  “Done.”

  He kissed my cheek as he pushed open the door for me.

  “You’re going to lose,” he whispered, placing his hand on the small of my back.

  “I hope I do.”

  We walked into the lobby of the gymnasium, and I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or turn around and run back to the car when I realized that time really had stood still. A part from a few additions—a snack machine in the corner and a display case at end of the room—everything was the same. It even smelled the same.

  “Relax, babycakes.”

  I grunted and he laughed, leading me up to the table near the gym doors. I sighed as I spotted my nametag, Weller typed in bold letters after Arianna. I tilted my head, vaguely aware of Evan grabbing his own nametag and saying something to me.

  That wasn’t right. I wasn’t a Weller anymore, and I definitely wasn’t Arianna.

  “Give me your pen,” I said, holding out one hand as I grabbed the nametag with the other.

  “Why?”

  “Please?”

  He grabbed a pen from his jacket pocket. Ever since he’d gotten his own column a few years ago, he’d taken to carrying one around with him almost religiously. When I suggested buying some kind of electronic device that would make things a little easier for him, he’d immediately shot my idea down by saying that he didn’t trust his brilliant ideas to technology.

  I rested my nametag on my stomach—one of the advantages of being seven months pregnant—and scribbled out Arianna Weller, writing Anna Drake underneath it. I smiled down at it before handing Evan his pen back and pinning the tag to my shirt. I looked at him and grinned.

  “Want to explain that?” he asked, sticking the pen back in his pocket.

  “I’m not that girl anymore.”

  “You’re still you, Anna.”

  “I’m your wife; I’ve been that way for six years, and I’m going to be that way for the rest of our lives.” I linked my fingers with his again. “I’m someone different and better thanks to you.”

  He stared at me before leaning down and kissing me forcefully. He cupped the back of my head until I stepped into him and placed our hands on my stomach.

  “Fuck, I love you,” he said as he pulled away from me.

  I smiled, keeping my eyes closed as he rested his forehead against mine.

  “I love you too.” I squared my shoulders as I opened my eyes. I looked over at the gym doors and squeezed his hand. “Let’s go in there.”

  “There she is,” he whispered into my ear, placing a quick kiss on my cheek before he stepped ahead of me and opened the door.

  I took a deep breath and followed him inside, finding that the gym was only half-full of classmates I barely recognized who stood around, talking and comparing life stories with drinks in their hands and dressed to the nines.

  I know for a fact that the majority of them still lived in the same town, so the odds that most of the people here didn’t still know each other’s business was very slim. If they wanted to pretend that they hadn’t seen each other in the past twenty-four hours, hey, who was I to call them out on it?

  “Oh Jesus Christ, it’s about time.” Ashley popped up at my side and placed her hand on my shoulder. “Kyle was about to go and find you.”

  “Told you,” Evan whispered into my ear.

  “Shut up.”

  “Come on!” she exclaimed, grabbing my arm and leading us to their table.

  “Anna!” Christina squealed, jumping up and wrapping her arms around my neck.

  I laughed and hugged her back as much as possible. We hadn’t been able to see everyone when we got in yesterday afternoon, having been whisked away by Evan’s parents for some family bonding and sleep to recover from the three-hour drive with a four-year old. Ashley and Kyle had shown up sometime around eight and demanded that we go out to a late dinner with them, declaring that they had first dibs with us for some unknown reason.

  Ashley and Kyle had stayed close to home, relocating to Schenectady and starting a joint remodeling business that had taken off very well. Vince and Christina had moved out to California, where Vince was a successful agent and Christina was a publicist for a few relatively unknown celebrities. Our friends had flourished, and I’d missed them horribly.

  “Hi!” I squealed back, squeezing her tightly.

  “How’s the little peanut?” she immediately asked, bending down to rest her hands on my stomach and place her ear over my bellybutton. “Everything all right in there?”

  Evan laughed and kissed my cheek before going over to slap Vince on the shoulder and Kyle on the back of the head.

  “Everything is fine in there,” I assured her, plopping down into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs as she stood.

  “How’s the little princess?” Ashley asked, already sitting down and leaning her elbow on the table next to me.

  We’d split up the Godparent thing between our friends—Vince and Christina were Macie’s godparents, and Ashley and Kyle were our as-yet-unnamed baby boy’s. All of them spoiled the hell out of Macie as it was, and I was sure nothing would change when our little boy showed up in two months.

  “She’s good. Visiting with my dad tonight.”

  The relationship between my father and I had improved over the years. I found that we really could get along, and had actually found myself missing his company while I was in college. Evan, Macie, and I talked to him on the phone every Friday night at seven—Thursday nights were Hell’s Hospital nights and as much as Evan complained about it, he still sat and watched it with me—and my father and I had gotten along better than we ever had.

  Apparently, distance had been the thing we’d needed the most.

  “I’d better see that beautiful girl before you guys leave,” Christina said, pointing at me.

  “Promise. How’s Calvin?”

  “Growing up so fast.” She grinned, her eyes sparking at the mention of her and Vince’s only son.

  He was six and an absolute gentleman. Between Christina and her manners, and Vince and his need to teach his son everything there was to know about sports, he was well versed in all things that mattered. Then, of course, there were the superheroes, comic books, and Disney-Pixar movies that every kid loved. When we visited, Macie and he had spent at least half of that time watching movies and then imitating everything they’d seen when it was over.

  “I know what you mean.” Ashley laughed. “The twins are almost four and it seems like just yesterday, I was in labor.”

  I remembered hearing about all of it. Macie had only been a few months old when Ashley announced that she was pregnant, and it had only taken a few months after that to find out that she was pregnant with twins. Darla and Christine Mahon were the most energetic kids I’d ever known. They’d definitely gotten their personalities and energy from their father, while their looks were all from Ashley. The two of them were going to have their hands full when they got older and started dating, though Kyle had already declared they’d never date, much less get older.

  Evan and I were Calvin’s godparents, and Darla and Christine’s godparents were Kyle’s brother and sister-in-law.

  “Are we not good enough for you, Anna?”

  I looked across the table to see Vince pouting, his bottom lip shoved out so far he could probably wrap it up around his head if he so desired. I laughed and waved him over to me, holding out my arms as he bent down and hugged me.

  “You feeling okay?” he asked as he pulled back and bent down in between Christina and me.
>
  “Totally stressed out.”

  He laughed and patted my knee.

  “That’s not good for the little man in there.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “Fuck ‘em all,” he grinned, standing up again and kissing my cheek. “You’re gorgeous.”

  “I tell her that, and she refuses to believe me tonight,” Evan said, matter-of-factly.

  I scrunched my nose and stuck my tongue out at him. He laughed and grabbed a chair, pulling it up behind me and draping his arm over my shoulders.

  We talked without interruption, Ashley pointing out people such as Brittany Feldman, who had been managing the local hardware shop for the past five years, and Grace Alcott, who had moved out to Hollywood and hadn’t been able to land more than a few commercials here and there.

  Steve Forrester, dragging a stick-thin blonde around the middle of the floor, still looked like he had in high school. He’d taken over his parents’ construction business and seemed to think that he owned the world because of it. Adam Laveque hadn’t appeared yet, but his alcoholism had been common knowledge around Collins Point for about four years now, or so I’d been told. Other classmates that I barely knew had stopped at our table to say hello, spouting on about their lives and sliding away when someone else called their name.

  “Evan!”

  We both looked in the direction when we heard a voice that I’d tried to forget, and I cringed, placing my hands protectively over my stomach as Grace walked up to us. She was carting around a guy that looked like he might’ve just graduated high school, and was doing everything in her power to show off the ring on her left hand.

  “Hello, Grace,” Evan said coolly. “How’ve you been?”

  “Fabulous!” she said in a sing-song voice, waving her left hand at him.

  I looked behind me at Ashley who rolled her eyes. I laughed and looked over at Christina who was mimicking Grace’s hand movements.