A Story Like Ours

by Robin Huber

  “I didn’t look. The directions said it takes a few minutes to work.”

  “Oh.” He nods and paces a few times. “Okay.”

  I reach for his hand and pull him over to me. “I need a hug.”

  “Me too,” he says, wrapping his arms around me.

  “What am I going to do if I’m pregnant, Bas?”

  “You’ll rock it, like everything else in your life.”

  “What are you going to do if I’m pregnant?”

  “I’ll support you and throw you a kick-ass baby shower.”

  I squeeze him tight, inhale a fortifying breath, and release him. “Okay, let’s check.”

  He looks at me and bobs his head. “Okay, let’s do it. I’m ready.”

  I turn around and tentatively open the bathroom door, but Sebastian crooks his neck over my shoulder and pushes me inside. I fight my self-preserving instincts telling me not to look and pick up one of the tests.

  “Oh, my God,” Sebastian says, looking at me.

  I stare quietly at the matching pink lines in the little plastic window for several long seconds.

  “I’m pregnant,” I finally say over the pounding in my chest. “Sebastian”—I look up at him with disbelief—“I’m pregnant.”

  “Are you sure it’s not wrong?” he asks, looking at the other test still laying on the back of the toilet. He presses his lips together and shakes his head. “Nope,” he answers his own question. “You’re pregnant.”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  His eyes widen and a tentative smile stretches across is handsome face. “You’re pregnant.”

  “Yeah,” I say, bobbing my head, and my eyes mist over.

  “Oh, my God!” He wraps his arms around me. “You’re going to have a baby! I’m going to be an uncle! I’m much more comfortable with this scenario.” He releases me and pulls me over to the couch. “You need a doctor. And prenatal vitamins. And folic acid.”

  “What’s folic acid?”

  “I don’t know. But I read about it in one of Paul’s surrogacy pamphlets. You need it.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and starts tapping the screen with his thumbs.

  “Bas,” I say, pulling one of his hands away. “I have to tell Sam first.”

  “Right…of course.” He stares at me expectantly.

  “Not right now, Bas!”

  “Why not?”

  “I can’t tell him this over the phone. I may never see him again.”

  He rolls his eyes and drops his head to the side. “You’re procrastinating. And being a little dramatic.”

  I look at my hands in my lap and exhale. “I know. Sam’s talked about having a family since we were kids. I just…I want to tell him in person, Bas.”

  He presses his lips together over a small smile and says, “I think you just found his Christmas present.”

  * * *

  “It’s like the whole city has shut down tonight,” I say to Sam, stepping out onto our snow-covered balcony. I rub my bare arms and peek over the edge at the empty streets below.

  “Well it’s not every day we get snow in Atlanta,” Sam says, wrapping me in the blanket draped over his shoulders. “Let alone on Christmas Eve.”

  I turn around in his arms and snuggle up against his warm body. “Remember that time it snowed like this when we were kids? You turned the garbage can lid over and pulled me down the street with a jump rope?”

  “Yeah, Maxine was pissed because we put a hole in the lid. Couldn’t have been more than an inch or two of snow on the ground.” He laughs and rests his chin on the top of my head. “Our kids will have the best sled money can buy.”

  My heart jumps and races inside my chest, but before I can pry my tongue off the roof of my mouth, he pulls my lips to his and ignites a fire within me that warms me all the way to my bare feet, which I’m pretty sure have frozen solid.

  “Sam,” I mumble against his lips, but he pulls me back inside. “I have to tell you something,” I manage in the three seconds it takes him to drop the blanket and slide the glass doors closed.

  He looks at me with fire in his hungry eyes, as warm as the flames crackling in the fireplace.

  “It can wait.” I reach for his handsome face and his dimples cast tiny shadows on his cheeks in the glow of the Christmas tree. I wind my fingers into his wavy hair, which has grown longer in the last couple of months, and press my body to his.

  He exhales a heavy breath and reaches for my waist to pick me up, but I grab his hands and push them away. “Sam, no.”

  He grumbles against my neck and presses me against the wall with his warm body. “It’s been two weeks,” he growls against my ear. “I’m better.”

  I shake my head and pant, “You can’t pick me up. You’re still healing.”

  “Fine.” He gives me a salacious smile that makes me giggle. “Have it your way.” He spins me around and holds my hands against the wall while he slowly kisses my neck. He presses his hips against my bottom and groans softly. “Don’t move.” He slides his hands over my waist and hooks his thumbs inside my pajama pants, tugging them down my legs. Moments later, his bare hips are pressed against me and the chill that lingers on his skin sends goose bumps down my thighs.

  I exhale a slow breath that’s laced with anticipation as he pushes my feet apart and snakes his arm around my stomach. But when he squeezes my tender breast through my thin cotton cami, I let out an unintentional yelp.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, turning me around with a worried look on his face. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “You didn’t hurt me,” I say, ignoring my throbbing breast.

  “Yes I did.”

  “Sam, I’m fine.” I press my hand to his concerned face, trying to ease the worry in his eyes, and trying to wield my tongue to tell him that he’s going to be a father, but it just won’t cooperate.

  Lucy, Seventeen Years Old

  “You shouldn’t be wearing that skirt,” Sam says, squeezing my hand as we walk to school.

  “Well, I thought it was going to be warmer today, but now I’m wishing I hadn’t. Why? You don’t like it?” I ask, looking up at him with big innocent eyes. I can tell that he does.

  He pulls me into the doorway of an old abandoned building and spins me around so that I’m pressed between its cold brick exterior and his warm body. He places his hands on the crumbling wall by my shoulders and leans into me. “I like it. But so do the wolves.” He takes my face in his hand and says softly, “You’re so beautiful, Lamb. You don’t even know it.” He trails his hand down my neck, tracing my collarbone with his thumb, and pushes my jacket off my shoulder, sending a shiver through me when the cold air touches my skin. “And so pure,” he says, kissing my neck below my ear. “You have no idea what they’d do to you.”

  I press my finger to the middle of his broad chest and drag it down his sweatshirt, feeling his muscles flex beneath it. “That’s why I have you. You’ve always protected me. And I’ve never felt afraid,” I say honestly.

  He pulls his eyebrows together and drops his head. “What if I wasn’t there?”

  “You always are.” I give him a reassuring smile and bring my lips up to his.

  “Yeah,” he says, dragging his lips to my ear. “I always will be.” He brings his mouth back to mine and kisses me firmly, pressing himself against me so that I feel every line of his strong body against mine. He drops his warm hands to my cold thighs and runs them up my legs, groaning against my mouth as he squeezes my bottom under my skirt.

  He picks me up and I wrap my legs around him, savoring the heat coming off him. “We can’t,” I say, winding my fingers in his hair, unable to stop kissing him. “We have to go to class.” I try unsuccessfully to convince him, and myself. “Sam.” He ignores me and kisses me harder, and I kiss him right back. “Not here,” I finally say, giving in with a conflicted grin. We should really go to class, but he should really keep kissing me.

  He gives me a salacious smile and puts me down. “Come on,” he says,
pulling me around the side of the building.

  “Where are we going?” I ask, eyeing the strewn newspapers and flattened boxes that line the alley to the back of the building.

  “There.” He points to a ladder that leads to the roof. “Come on.”

  “You want me to climb up that?” I ask, dismayed as he tugs on the bottom of the ladder, checking its stability.

  “Yeah, it’s safe. You can go first. I’ll follow, in case you slip.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with the skirt, would it?”

  He gives me a wicked grin. “Of course not.”

  I wrap my hands around the cold wrought iron and step up onto one of the rusted rungs. It wobbles a little under my weight, but feels relatively sturdy. Sam follows me as I climb up the side of the building, groaning when the wind blows my skirt up.

  “Knock it off,” I say, reaching for the last rung.

  “Not possible.”

  I pause and look down at him, pursing my lips over a smile I can’t hide.

  “Don’t stop, you’re almost there.” He winks at me and gives my bottom a push over the top.

  “Holy crap, it’s cold up here.” I rub my arms through my jacket.

  Sam drops his book bag and pulls me into his arms, wrapping me in his sweatshirt. When the wind isn’t blowing, the sun is actually pretty warm. “Better?” he asks, rubbing my back.

  “Yeah.” The sky is so clear, I can see all the way to downtown Atlanta, where the tall buildings stagger across a small section of the horizon. “It’s actually really beautiful up here. So quiet. Kind of makes you forget all the crap down there,” I say, looking out at the low brick buildings that make up Brighton Park.

  “We’re going to get out of here one day, Luc.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yeah. I promise.”

  I exhale a quiet breath. “How?”

  “You’re going to get a scholarship after you graduate next year and you’re going to go to college.”

  I rest my chin on his chest. “No, I’m not.”

  “Lucy, yes you—”

  “No,” I exclaim, “not without you.” It doesn’t matter if I get a scholarship. It won’t do me any good without Sam.

  He nods softly and shrugs. “Joe thinks I have a real shot at boxing. Maybe that’s my ticket out. If it is, I’ll work night and day to be the greatest boxer this world’s ever seen.”

  I smile wide. “Like Muhammad Ali?”

  “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.”

  “And we’ll live in a big house?” I ask with wide eyes.

  “The biggest.”

  “And we’ll eat pancakes every morning?” I ask, remembering how Maxine never wanted to make them for us.

  “With bacon.”

  “And I’ll be able to paint whenever I want?”

  “Whenever you want.”

  “And we’ll have a family? A real family?” I gaze up at his beautiful eyes shimmering in the bright sun, imagining a little boy or girl with eyes just like his.

  He reaches for my face and tucks my windblown hair behind my ear. “Yeah, we’ll have a family.”

  I carefully wrap the hope up and give it to my heart for safekeeping. “I love you, Sam. Even if none of that ever happens, I’ll still love you. You’re my family.”

  He holds my face in his hands and nods. “I love you too.”

  * * *

  “Sam…” I gaze up at his unusual eyes, wondering if our baby will have them too. “I have something to tell you.”

  “What is it?” His voice is laced with unnecessary concern.

  I swallow hard and force myself to confess the secret I’ve been holding in since yesterday. “I’m…pregnant.” I pull in a deep breath with no indication of when it might be released.

  “You’re what?” he asks, unable to hide the shock in his voice.

  “I’m pregnant.” I press my trembling lips together and nod. “We’re going to have a baby.” I stand frozen against the wall and wait for him to respond, but when he doesn’t, I begin to wonder if maybe it wasn’t the right time to tell him.

  After a long silent second, he takes a step toward me and reaches for my face. He looks at me with watery eyes and then kisses me hard.

  I laugh softly over the tears that spill onto my cheeks. “Does this mean you’re happy?”

  He drops his forehead to mine and says huskily, “Yeah. I’m really happy.”

  “I know it wasn’t supposed to happen this like this, Sam, but—”

  “Yes it was…we just didn’t know it.”

  I swallow down the emotion that’s flooding me and nod. “Yeah.”

  He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I’m sorry I was rough before. If I had known…”

  I smile and reach for his handsome face. “I’m fine, Sam. My boobs are just a little sore, that’s all.” I laugh softly.

  “When did you find out?”

  “Yesterday. I wanted to wait until tomorrow to tell you. It was supposed to be your Christmas present.”

  He takes my hand and pulls me over to the couch, and we sit in the warm glow of the fire. “Lamb, you’ve already given me everything I’ve ever wanted.” He gazes at me and says, “You.” He puts his hand on my stomach and rubs it softly. “This baby…our baby”—he pulls his eyebrows together over his stormy eyes—“is more than I could have asked for.” He looks up at me and says with awe, “We’re going to be family.”

  “Yeah.” I nod over the lump in my throat. “We’re going to be a family.”

  He pulls me into his arms and I curl up in his lap.

  “Look”—he points to the dark windows that surround the living room—“it’s snowing again.”

  I look outside and see little white snowflakes floating gently through the night sky. “It’s so beautiful.”

  He looks down at me and brushes my hair off my forehead. “Since you gave me my Christmas present early, I guess I can give you yours.”

  “You got me something?” I ask excitedly.

  He pulls me to my feet and over to the Christmas tree. We stand in front of it and I admire the beautiful ornaments glowing against the white lights.

  “Lucy, you’re the first person who loved me. Did you know that?”

  I look up at him and smile softly.

  “I’d never even heard that word spoken to me, until you said it for the first time.”

  I nod over the crack that shoots across my heart.

  “But I knew I loved you long before that. I could feel it inside me like a force of nature.” He smiles softly. “As the days and years passed, it became as necessary as oxygen. When it was gone, I couldn’t breathe. I tried to, but without you…” He traces my face with his fingers and tucks my hair behind my ear. “I was half alive. I never want to feel that way again, Lamb.”

  I inhale a shaky breath. “You don’t have to.”

  He looks at the Christmas tree and reaches for one of branches. “I got you this,” he says, pulling a small ribbon off the tree. He holds up a diamond ring that’s tied to the end of it and I suck in a stunned breath. “Marry me, Lamb. Be with me for the rest of our lives. Stay with me forever.”

  I nod and cry, “Yes. I’ll marry you, Sam.”

  “Yeah?” He exhales and blinks his watery eyes.

  “Yes,” I cry. “Of course.”

  He reaches for my left hand and slides the sparkly ring onto my finger.

  “I’ll never leave you, Sam. I’m yours. Forever.” I put his hand on my stomach and vow, “We’re yours.”

  Chapter 11

  Lucy, Three Months Later

  I hold Sebastian’s arm so I don’t topple over in my high heels as we make our way ringside behind Miles.

  Miles stops and says something to one of the announcers seated in front of a laptop and a microphone.

  He looks up and smiles at me as I pass him.

  “What was that about?” Bas shouts in my ear over the music blaring through th
e arena speakers. The bass echoes off the cement floors, reverberating all the way up through my body and vibrating through my chest.

  “I don’t know.” I shrug and follow Miles to our seats. I want to sit down, but the buzz of the crowd keeps me on my feet. Everyone is clapping and cheering with excitement, including me. I smile at Sebastian, who has a giant grin on his face.

  “Okay, these are the best seats we’ve ever gotten,” he says, looking up at the ring. “Paul’s going to have to up his game.”

  “I think we might have a new in.” I laugh. “Is he feeling any better?”

  “What?” Bas shouts, dropping his head to mine.

  “Is Paul feeling better?”

  “He’s fine. He’s a total baby when he’s sick. I still can’t believe he passed this up.” He smirks and turns his attention back to the ring, where two tall bikini-clad models are posing and blowing kisses to the camera.

  “Haven’t we moved past this as a society?” I ask, watching them strut around in their sparkly bikinis.

  “Ring girls have been a part of the glitz and glam of boxing since the sixties,” Bas answers. “I mean, if they didn’t hold up signs indicating the next round, how else would anyone know?” He laughs and I roll my eyes.

  “They’ve got nothing on you,” I say, glancing at his burgundy slim-fit tuxedo jacket.

  He straightens his black bow tie and runs his fingers down the middle of his pleated white shirt. “It does say old Hollywood, doesn’t it?”

  “It has Gene Kelly written all over it.”

  “The fact that you know who he is makes me immensely happy,” he says seriously.

  The girls leave the ring and the lights dim, igniting the crowd. They hoot and holler and clap even louder as red and blue spotlights move around the arena to the beat of the music. When I hear the intro to Eminem’s “Phenomenal” begin to play, I know that Sam is entering the arena. Apparently so does everyone else, because the entire arena goes crazy, shouting and screaming in unison.

  Sebastian gives me excited eyes. “This is crazier than Madison Square Garden!”

  “Sam said when he fights in Atlanta the crowd is on another level.”

  “How you doing? You all right?” Miles asks, checking on me.