My life has gone from perfect to terrifying. This is one of those times where I’d appreciate if someone could lie to me and say, it’s going to be okay. I mean, it might not be a lie, but there’s no guarantee that they’ll be right. Our future isn’t set in stone so who really knows how my life will be in a year.
I place a pin on my feelings because it’s a lot easier to focus on objective goals. But before I start working, I place chilled black tea bags over my eyes to get rid of the swelling. This is something I learned from Mom. I might as well start following all her home remedies if I want to survive these next nine months. Once I feel ready to sit down to find a new path, I get lost in the possibilities.
Twenty-four hours later and two days after my life crumbled, I feel more confident about my future. I shower, go for a jog around the neighborhood, and even stop at the coffee place to buy a vanilla steamer and a pastry.
Around lunch time, I go to the grocery store with a list of what I plan to eat for the next couple of days. Skipping meals for the sake of my career wasn’t smart. Now, I can take better care of myself—and my future baby.
That’s the one part of my life that hasn’t sunk in yet. I’m going to be a mother. This is one endeavor I hadn’t planned yet. Just last weekend I was wondering if thirty-five was too early to have a kid. It’s not a choice if I wait or not. I decided to have this baby. Since I like to read and learn while reading, on my way back home, I stop at the bookstore.
When I arrive at my place, I spot Nate’s truck parked in my driveway. There’s just enough space for me to slide my car into the garage. So much for let me call you when I am up for it. The strange thing is that my shoulder muscles relax when I drive close to him and he smiles at me.
When I turn off the engine, he opens the door and says, “I was about to call search and rescue. Where have you been?”
I pop the trunk open and answer, “Grocery store?”
He takes me into his arms and rubs my back. “Fuck, I couldn’t sleep for two days. You said you’d call me, and I haven’t heard from you.”
Resting my head on his chest I close my eyes and let myself indulge in this moment. For a second, I want to forget everything that’s happened since the last time I saw him. Since the kiss we shared. That perfect kiss when our lips met for the first time, our hearts beating at the same rhythm, and our souls lost in the abyss of the other, if not forever, at least for a moment.
Talk about unforgettable first kisses, exciting destinations, and unfortunate detours. No, it’s a roadblock, and we each have to go our separate ways. We’ll always have…what do we have?
Nothing. What could’ve been after Sunday is completely gone. For a long time, we don’t say anything. We stay still, holding each other, or maybe he’s the one holding me.
I’m not sure how much time passes but at some point he kisses my forehead and says, “Let’s get those bags inside the house, and then you can tell me what’s happening.”
When I move, I realize that Brock is right beside Nate, quiet, sitting like the good boy that he is. I squat to pet him.
“How are you, boy?”
“Ruff!” he says and licks my cheek.
“I’m glad you guys are here, but you shouldn’t have come,” I say, trying to hold the tears because even this gesture makes me want to cry.
“The last time we spoke you were…in a bad place. You ignored my calls and texts. I couldn’t leave you like this. Since I was on my way to Seattle, I decided to stop by,” Nate explains.
I look up and smile, “Thank you for coming, but I’m fine.”
Nate arches an eyebrow and crosses his arms. “You don’t look fine, sweetheart.”
“Well, I’ll be fine soon. I’m just trying to figure out my future. Are Persy and Ford back too?” I ask, hopeful, because I need to speak to my sister.
“No,” he responds. “They’ll be back on Sunday. In the meantime, why don’t we go inside? I’m not Persy, but I too can be a good listener.”
Nate carries the grocery bags and sets them on the kitchen island. I close the trunk, grab the bookstore load, and set it next to my planner and all the printouts I have from earlier today. In silence and without prompting we begin to fix the groceries. He pulls out the trash can that’s under the sink and starts tossing the takeout containers from inside the fridge. As I’m organizing the cans in the pantry, I hear Nate say, “Your reading material is...interesting.”
I turn around and look at him, then at the book he’s holding, What to Expect When You’re Expecting.
“Mom was right,” I mumble.
He nods a couple of times and asks, “You want to talk about it?”
Before I say anything, my phone rings. It is Kerry Sanders, the realtor I contacted earlier.
Lifting an index finger, I say, “Give me a second, I have to take this call.”
For the next five minutes, I explain to Kerry my plans. She runs a quick search and gives me a house price according to the address where I live. She warns me that it’s just an estimate that could be lower or higher depending on the condition of my place. We set up a time to meet this evening.
Nate shakes his head but doesn’t say anything until I hang up, “You’re selling the house. What’s going on, Nyx?”
“I could use the equity,” I explain. “There are a lot of expenses coming up and my insurance sucks.”
According to the customer service rep I spoke with yesterday, I can’t make any changes until the end of the year. Also, the cost of my health insurance is going up, since I’m no longer employed with Bryant, LLP. I tried to get a few quotes online from other health insurance companies, but everyone wants to speak to me to sell me their policies. Even though I plan on changing my insurance and getting coverage, I have to have a backup plan.
“So, we’re keeping the baby?” he asks, more like mumbles.
I nod once in response.
Maybe Ed was a mistake, sex with him was as boring as getting a pap smear, and he’s not the person I’d like to raise a kid with, but the baby is part of me. I want her or him.
“I’m over with the week, and it’s just Wednesday,” I whisper. “It's…overwhelming to even think about what’s happening. There are so many things I have to do, including the lawsuit due to the wrongful termination of my employment.”
“But selling the house…” he looks around the place. “Where are you going to live?”
“Until I find a place that is not too expensive but right for us, I’m moving in with my parents,” I inform him. “Persy has Ford, and I can’t be the third wheel. Eros and I would kill each other in less than a week.”
He shakes his head and says, “Listen, I feel like you’re making hasty decisions. Why don’t you stop for a moment, take a mental break, and then come back to determine if what you planned is really what you want to do?”
I laugh at his suggestion. “I don’t have time to think about anything. According to an online due date calculator I’ll be responsible for another human being by Monday, April twelfth of next year. A Monday…can you believe it? It’s like a sign that from now on my life is going to be an eternal Monday.”
“Children tend to bring chaos, but I’m sure there’s a silver lining somewhere in this predicament,” he offers. “Which is why I suggest you pack your bags and come with me to Seattle. I have the perfect place where you can just relax.”
“I don’t have time to relax,” I remind him.
“Do you trust me?” he asks.
“I just met you, and I’m positive that you shouldn’t be here,” I advise him. “Leave the dog and fly to Seattle.”
He huffs and laughs humorlessly. “No, I am fond of Brock. But I promise to leave him with you while you stay with us in Seattle.”
Instead of arguing with him, I go to the fridge where I have the ginger seltzer Dad made. I keep drinking a few sips during the day, and it’s keeping my stomach somehow calm. However, there aren’t many left, and I think I need at least ten boxes to help
me with the morning sickness. If the medical websites are correct, I should be done with this nausea-vomit-fatigue period by September twenty-eighth, or as the professionals call it, the beginning of the second trimester.
According to my goal calendar, I should have a place and a job or steady cases by October first. After taking a few sips, I text Dad about needing a few more cases of his delicious seltzer.
He says he’ll have at least two or three ready over the weekend. Right when I am about to put away my phone a notification pops up. It’s a text from Pierce.
Pierce: I emailed you the papers for you to sign. Send them back once you’re done. The documents for Ed are in a separate email. I recommend you ask him to visit you at your home and settle this as soon as possible. Good luck!
I turn on my laptop and print all the documents Pierce sent. Then, I text Ed asking if he could come to my house today.
Edward: I’m busy. We agreed it was a one time.
Nyx: It’s for a different issue. It’s in your best interest to meet me today.
Edward: Are you threatening me?
Nyx: No, I’m telling you we have an important matter to discuss, and the sooner we fix it the better.
Edward: If you’re going to tell me that you gave me syphilis, I’ll sue you.
Nyx: Edward, be realistic. Just meet me at five. I’ll send you the address.
Walking back into the living room, I find Nate by the door with Brock right next to him.
“Ready to run away?” I ask and smile.
“No, we’re going on a walk. Would you like to join us?”
I nod, grab my water bottle, and follow them.
Seventeen
Nyx
“So, how do you feel about all these changes?” he asks.
“Wow, let’s start with the deep questions,” I mumble and sigh. “I don’t know how to feel yet. I’ve been so focused on my career that I haven’t really thought much about children. Sure, I hoped that by the time I’m thirty-five I’d be in a serious relationship. Probably married or engaged and planning on having a family before I turn forty.
“In my mind, if I was ever pregnant, I’d be in love with the father of my child and thrilled about this new life we created—together. Edward Bryant and I slept together out of boredom or…something. This feels surreal. I understand what’s happening, and I’m already getting ready for the event, but it hasn’t sunk in yet. This baby deserves better than an unemployed, clueless, emotionless mother.”
“That’s different. Most of the women I’ve met have been planning their wedding since they were children,” he explains. “Once I dated a woman who had a wedding book since she was twelve.”
I don’t remind him that I had a different life. My childhood consisted of traveling, climbing trees, learning about other cultures, other languages, and wanting to learn more and more.
We fall into an uncomfortable silence until he asks, “So the father… Are you planning on telling him?”
“Today,” I mumble. “He’s coming at five. I have the parental relinquishment documents ready for him to sign.”
“So, you’re not giving him a chance to be a dad?” he asks, sounding upset.
“Listen, I’m giving him the news, explaining to him how I see this working out for the baby, and giving him an out,” I clarify. “It’s up to him, but to tell you the truth, I hope he signs the papers. If he stays in my child’s life there’ll be expectations that I doubt he’ll meet. It’s going to be eighteen years of hell for everyone.”
“You don’t think he’ll pay child support?” he asks.
“No…I haven’t even thought about that,” I mention. “That’d be a secondary issue. My primary concern is my child’s emotional wellbeing. What if he’s around for the first two years and then he disappears leaving a hole in their life? I’d rather handle his absence from the beginning than leave a kid wondering why their father never came back.”
“Sounds smart. I’m sorry for judging you,” he apologizes.
I arch an eyebrow. “I had no idea you were judging me.” Then it hit me…his mother, or maybe his ex. Either way, this should be uncomfortable at least and painful the most. “I really think you shouldn’t be around me. This situation is too close for comfort, isn’t it?”
“It’s not.” He rubs the back of his neck looking toward the sky, then he glances at me and says, “I’m perfectly fine. I’m not the one unemployed, pregnant, and confused. Except, I am worried about you.”
“I’m a big girl,” I assure him.
“You are, but I bet you’re one of those people who avoid asking for help,” he argues. “I’m pretty sure that you’re the kind of person who runs to save everyone, but when you need a life jacket because you’re swimming in deep water, you don’t reach out to anyone. You just keep swimming.”
He’s not wrong. I’m used to being the most levelheaded of the family. The one who saves everyone else. Persy is the only one I’d trust to give me a hand. Not today. She’s too busy with her book and her new boyfriend to help me, which is fine. Because I am fine.
I am…
“If I interpret your silence correctly, well, I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Maybe? I don’t do it often. It’s easier to look after myself,” I ramble.
“That’s a ‘Yes, I’m not in a great place and I’ll try to figure this out on my own,’” he pokes my nose and smiles. “I have some news for you. You’re not alone, and I’m just as persistent as you are. It’ll be impossible to get rid of me.”
Those blue eyes look at me tenderly. I’m not sure if I like them seeing me without the fire of desire they had last Sunday.
This is for the best, Nyx. You have a lot of issues and he is…a friend. Having a kid is a lot of responsibility. Are you sure you can keep one alive?
“I don’t know what I’m going to do with a baby,” I say out loud, and not sure if it’s to him or to myself. “Look at Callie. I did a crappy job with her.”
“She’s not your kid,” he reminds me. “Kid sister, yes, but definitely not your child. She’s in Boston by the way.”
I come to a halt and hold my breath before I ask, “Is she okay?”
“Perfectly fine, and in case you’re wondering, she’s working at a bar and going to school part time,” he informs me.
“Like grad school?”
He frowns. “No, like college. I take it she’s finally going to get a degree.”
“She finished college two years ago,” I correct him. Maybe his people didn’t do a thorough research, or they have the wrong Calliope Brassard.
“She dropped out after the first semester at Colorado University,” he adds to his misinformation.
“You are wrong. I know she studied four years of journalism,” I press. “Persy, Eros, and I paid for it, so she wouldn’t have any student loans.”
He smirks and crosses his arms, “Did you go to her graduation?”
“No, we went to our Parentcation instead,” I explain what that is, a vacation from my parents, before we all go camping with my parents for a week where no electronics are allowed.
“Okay, then I don’t know why she’s back in college,” he says in a condescending tone.
“You don’t think she graduated?”
He’s silent and we begin to walk.
“What do you know?” I ask, catching up with him.
“She quit her freshman year of college,” he repeats. “Give me your email, and I’ll send you the entire file I received from my P.I.”
I want to continue fighting him, but my gut says he’s right. Callie is capable of deceiving us, and we’re too busy with our own lives to doubt her.
“No, we… See I can’t be a mother. We supported her for four years while she misled us.”
“She’s not your child, and you can’t compare her with your future children,” he says. “I just met you, but from what I’ve learned so far, I think that baby is lucky, and you’ll do great.”
“Doubtful,�
� I huff. “I’m unemployed, about to be homeless, and I’ll have to raise this kid on my own.”
“I could use you in my legal department. You can move into the penthouse that I own here, and you have a supportive family that loves you.”
“I need flexible hours.” Plus, my sister lives in his penthouse, and I don’t say that aloud because what if he kicks her out. I’d have to defend her in court and our friendship would be over.
“Well, then we have you in a consulting capacity, and I’ll make sure your insurance covers the maternity. You don’t even have to sell your house,” he insists, and I feel as if we’re trying to prove who is the most stubborn of the two of us.
We could discuss my future for hours, but I decide to be the bigger person or the one who ends this discussion with a good note. “I can use the friend but not the micromanaging,”
He stops walking, turns to look at me, and smiles. “Sorry,” he apologizes and grabs my hand, we resume our walk. “It’s not micromanaging but trying to help you. Like you, I’m a problem solver. The way I look at it, it’s a simple fix. You’re right though, everyone reacts and needs different things. I’m here for you in any capacity. The invitation to go to Seattle is open.”
Eighteen
Nyx
I expected Nate to leave for Seattle after our walk. Instead, he takes off the light jacket he was wearing and sits on the couch.
“Okay, walk me through your options,” he says.
“What do you mean?”
“You said you’ve been working on a plan. I just want to listen to what you have in mind and be…” he scratches his chin. “A devil’s advocate.”
“I don’t know if I should laugh or take you seriously with that arrogant smile,” I say, but I grab my stuff and sit right next to him.
While I show him my calendar, the timelines, and the ideas I have to try to make a living, he focuses on my every word, but grabs a pencil to make some notes. More like puts initials in certain places.
“I should have a good nest egg by April twelfth. If I can, I’ll take a month or two of maternity leave. By then I’ll be able to continue what I’ve been doing,” I finish.
Didn't Expect You (Against All Odds Book 2) Page 11