Because of Them: Heartfelt Romance

by Melissa Macomb

  I wanted to wait until after dinner, but with her in front of me, I just couldn’t. I told her we needed to talk. Her response had been to tell me how much planning there was to get ready for a baby, then she started babbling about me going to doctor appointments with her and wondering if I’d be a hands-on dad. Thinking back, I cringe at some of the things I said. I was pretty hateful. I just don’t respond well to threats.

  “Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself, Kat? I don’t even know if it’s mine. I mean, you fell into bed with me pretty easily. We’d only just met. For all I know, that’s a daily occurrence for you.” Yeah, I said that. Not exactly the way to sweet talk someone into doing what you want. It got worse. When she started saying she loved me, I told her, “Let’s just cut the bullshit, Kat. I’ve talked to my lawyer and I know it’s within my rights to demand a paternity test. I’m not going to just take your word for it. That ain’t gonna cut it, babe.” The cruelty in my voice surprised even me, and it drove Kat to start threatening me with Thompson Davis again. I really don’t know how Davis will perceive this situation. I remember that night I met him at her house, he told me he’d promised Lil that he’d make sure Kat was safe and happy. Well, I’m for sure not making her very happy.

  “Do what you have to, Katrina, I can’t stop you. I’m banking on the fact that Davis is a man and he’ll understand the impossible position you’re putting me in. You want me to just accept your word that this is my baby, but I can’t do that. I need proof. If I have proof that it’s mine, I promise you, I’ll acknowledge it and do my duty. I won’t run from the responsibility. But I’ll be damned if I’ll be duped into being named this kid’s father when I’m not.”

  Things just went further downhill after that. Kat got in a huff and left before the meal was even served. She said she needed time to think about it, and then hit me with her best shot.

  “I’m calling my godfather tonight and telling him how mean you are. I’m also going to tell him that you’re refusing to be a man and accept this is your baby. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from him soon.”

  “Do your worst, Kat. Oh, wait, you’re already doing that, aren’t you? Just don’t take too long. I’m not going to let you string me along. If I don’t hear from you soon that you’re ready to take the paternity test, I’ll be taking you to court to make it happen. Then it’ll be public. How will that read with your Insta followers? Maybe I’ll start my own page. My first post could be a picture of you and the question, ‘Whose bastard is Katrina Rutherford carrying?’ What do you think about that?”

  Yeah, that was pretty fucking low. I wouldn’t ever really do it, but she doesn’t have to know that. Still, it was a shitty thing to say. For once, though, something shut Kat up. She just turned and left.

  Today, I haven’t been able to get a damned thing done. I’ve been stuck between hoping the phone will ring with Kat telling me she’ll take the test and dreading the phone ringing and it being Thompson Davis saying he’s pulling out of our deal.

  When the phone finally does ring, it’s Caleb Berners telling me that a court date has been set for the temporary custody hearing regarding the twins, back in Oklahoma City. He said I have to be there and that I’ll have to meet with a court appointed social worker. The date of the hearing is Monday of next week, four days away. The meeting with the social worker is the day after tomorrow. I’ll be going back to Oklahoma City sooner than I thought.

  Shit. There’s really only one way out of this. I have to come clean with Tessa, once and for all. Even though she’ll hate me worse than she already does. If I don’t tell her, though, and she finds out later that I’ve withheld it all, she’ll be justified in that hatred.

  My phone chimes a signal that I’ve got a new text. It’s Tessa. She’s agreed we need to talk and asks when. I really don’t want to do this over the phone, or even by video chat. Now that I know I have to go back to Oklahoma soon anyway, I tell her I’ll be there tomorrow. The text I get back is short and bittersweet.

  Tessa: Come to my house any time after five o’clock. I’ll be waiting.

  36

  Tessa

  I’m upset and worried, and it shows. The twins have been asking me for days what’s wrong. I try to reassure them, but they’re responding to my energy on a level they aren’t even aware of and they know something isn’t right. I just finished texting Bram that I’d see him tomorrow night, when Rhona comes in, takes one look at me, and orders me upstairs for a relaxing bath, then early bed.

  “That sounds heavenly, Rhona, but I don’t want to upset the kids any more than I already have.”

  “Ye let me worry about them. Ye’re worn out and until ye get yerself right, there’s no use in trying to put up a front for the bairns.”

  So, I surrender. The bath feels wonderful and by the time I’m dried off and dressed in the big t-shirt I’ve taken to sleeping in lately, Rhona has fed the kids and brought them upstairs with her to deliver a tray of delicious smelling food for me. I sit on the bed and let the twins gather around me while I pick at the meal.

  “Tell me about your day, pumpkins.” It’s easier to just let them chatter on, and I really do love hearing about what they get up to. They’ve been doing much better lately. The nightmares are fewer and further between, it seems. I was able to look up some of their former playmates from before they moved to Scotland, and Mrs. MacThomas supervised several playdates for them. Today was one of those days, and for the next half hour, I get to hear all about it. Then Archie drops a bombshell.

  “Mrs. MacThomas says Uncle Bram is coming home tomorrow.” I quickly catch Rhona’s eye. I had wanted to tell them myself that Bram would be here and try to explain a little of the reason why. They need to gently be prepared for the coming visit with the social worker and, of course, the case for temporary custody. The old nanny looks apologetically back at me as she whispers, “They overheard us talking while I was cooking. I had to have it on speaker, so my hands were free. I’m sorry, love, I didn’t know they were listening.”

  I nod that it’s okay and turn my attention back to the twins. “Yes, he’ll be here tomorrow night, and I know he can’t wait to see you both. But right now, it’s your bath time, isn’t it, Mrs. MacThomas? Be sure to come in and kiss me goodnight before you go to bed and I’ll read you a story, okay?”

  I just can’t face explaining it all to them tonight. I really am so tired, both mentally and physically. I can’t believe it’s only been four weeks since that wonderful day in Central Park with Bram. Four weeks since we first made love. Four weeks since we first made love. Oh shit. Like every woman everywhere who has this thought, I quickly do the math, trying to figure out when I last had a period. Oh shit. The tiredness. The excessive crying. My last period was six weeks ago. It can’t be, but I know it is. I’ll take a test tomorrow to be sure, but yeah, I’m pregnant.

  The thought fills me with happiness. Even though things are so fucked up right now, I can only think of a baby as a joyful thing. I look up at the light knock on my door and Mrs. MacThomas walks in with a cup of tea.

  “Ye hardly ate a bite of your dinner, so I brought ye some tea and cake.”

  She looks so worried about me that I have to tell her. I’m so happy and excited that I actually want to tell her.

  “Rhona, I think I’m going to have a baby.” Hearing the words out loud makes it more real and I smile so big it makes my eyes almost close. Just for fun, I say it again, “I’m having a baby.”

  Mrs. MacThomas gives me a big hug when I tell her my good news, but I’m a little hurt that she doesn’t look very happy about it. I guess she’s just worried about me still, and she knows as well as anyone that Bram left me for someone else back in New York.

  “How’re ye going to hold up when Mr. Carter comes back? Ye ken he’ll be here tomorrow for the meeting and will most likely stay in town until after the hearing? Will ye be sharing yer good news?”

  My instincts tell me no, I can’t tell him. Of course, I will eventually. I don
’t think I could ever keep that kind of secret from him, that he has a child in the world he knows nothing about. But for now, I need time to think and get used to the idea myself, so I swear Rhona to secrecy.

  “No, Rhona, I’m not telling him yet, and you can’t either, please. I need some more time. I’ll take a test tomorrow, then I need time to decide what I want. You know how Bram is, once he knows, he’s going to plow ahead with whatever he decides is best. If I’m going to stand up to him, I have to have a plan already myself.”

  The old woman made her usual harrumphing noise that signals she disagrees and it’s so familiar to me already that it makes me laugh. I guess I’m always doing or saying things that she disagrees with, and yet she’s still here and she still cares. The thought that she’s like family to me now makes me cry.

  “There, there, lovie, don’t cry. I won’t say a word, ye’ve got my promise. I just wish the two of ye would realize ye love each other and stop fighting it.”

  “But he doesn’t love me, Rhona. If he did, he would be here, not there, wouldn’t he?”

  I can tell she wants to say something, but she doesn’t.

  “The world is full of noise, pet. Ye’ve got to learn to tune out what isn’t meant for ye and focus on what is.”

  With that cryptic message, she hauls herself off the edge of my bed and silently gathers up the tea tray she’d brought up with her earlier. I know her well enough to know I’ll get nothing else out of her tonight, so I thank her for the tea and let her go.

  My only question to her would be how do I know if Bram is really meant for me?

  37

  Bram

  Of course, I wasn’t able to keep my date with Tessa. Another investor I’ve been lining up to help with the fallout in case Davis pulls out is having cold feet and needed his hand held. Texting Tessa that I couldn’t make it yesterday after all just felt wrong, but I didn’t have a choice.

  Now, I’ve just landed in Oklahoma City, and my stomach is churning like it used to do on the first day of school. Mary was the better student and was always jumping around with excitement to know school would be starting back up soon. I, on the other hand, would start getting stomach aches at least a week in advance. It wasn’t until I was in high school that a caring teacher figured out that I have dyslexia. It helped to know there’s a reason I’d always struggled, but the remnants of what it felt like to be so out of step with everyone else, especially my twin, are still there. The stomach aches come back to haunt me at times of stress, and believe me, this is one of those times. I’ve got two major problems that need to be faced today.

  First, I have to convince someone else, a professional, that I’m worthy to take care of my niece and nephew. Sure, today is mostly about the social worker assessing Tessa and her ability to be their temporary guardian, but I was warned by Caleb that notes will be made regarding me, as well, for the future hearing to decide between the two of us. I hope to God that day never comes.

  Kat is still obstinately holding out against taking the paternity test. She’s trying to say it will be harmful to the baby, but all the experts agree that the threat to the baby is minimal. She’s just stalling, I’m sure of it, and it pisses me off. I really wanted to be able to come here today completely free of Kat’s claims on me, so I can just lay my heart bare to Tessa. Which leads me to the second problem. I have to tell Tessa today about Katrina. If not today, at least sometime before I have to go back to New York next week. She deserves to be told in person, and I just don’t see how I can keep it from her any longer. Who knows how long it could take to get the paternity test? It’s looking more and more like I’m going to have to sue her for it, then, like I told Kat, it will be made public. I sure as hell don’t want Tessa finding out that way.

  Today is really going to suck. The only saving grace is that I’ll get to see the twins again. And Tessa. God, I’ve missed her so much.

  The pain in my gut gets worse the closer I get to her house. Sitting in her driveway is a green Toyota Corolla that I don’t recognize. Tessa drives a blue Honda Accord Hybrid, which she always keeps in the garage. That means the social worker has beat me here. I had kind of been hoping for a moment alone with Tessa first, and I silently curse the fact that I couldn’t be here yesterday.

  The tall, skinny man who climbs out of the Corolla takes his time looking around the house and neighborhood. I can see him mentally assessing, taking notes on the fitness of the place to raise two kids. Although I know it’ll ultimately work against me, I’m proud of Tessa and the home she’s built for herself. I walk across the lawn to shake the man’s hand and say hello.

  This brings Tessa outside, clearly not wanting to give me time alone with this guy. She even has the nerve to mouth ‘brown-noser’ at me when I offer to carry his briefcase for him. He declines and indicates to Tessa that we should all go indoors. Tessa holds her hand out for a shake and introduces herself first, then says in that honeyed voice I’ve come to love so much, “Please come in.”

  I try to catch her eye once we’re in the house, but she busies herself being hostess. “Please, go right through there and have a seat. Make yourself at home,” indicating that we go to the den at the back of the house. I’ve never made it this far into her home and I can’t stop myself from looking around.

  It’s a beautiful room. The carpet is thick and a neutral buttery color. There are what I assume to be handmade Cherokee textiles spread around the room. They’re colorful, beautiful pieces of artwork. I know she’s proud of her cultural heritage, and rightly so. In one corner I see a picture of a beautiful woman, even more clearly Native American than Tessa, with a handsome man and two little children. It’s got to be Tessa’s family. And she’s the only one left. I can relate to that.

  Through the large picture window at the back of the room, I see a big yard where the twins are playing on a swing that hangs from a huge oak tree. I think they’ve grown since I last saw them, which is probably impossible, but it feels like they’ve changed somehow from the two little, sad, scared children we brought from Scotland. They look so happy. That’s it. They look healthy and happy.

  No sooner do we all take a seat, than Mrs. MacThomas comes in, pushing, of all things, what looks like a 1960’s drinks trolley full of carafes of tea and coffee, as well as cups, saucers, milk, sugar and napkins. On the second shelf I can see a variety of what I have no doubt are the nanny’s homemade cookies and cakes. The grin on my face is noticed by Mrs. MacThomas, who gives me a little wink. At least there’s one person here who doesn’t hate me.

  The social worker takes charge of the meeting once the coffee and tea has been poured and Rhona leaves us to go check on the kids. He introduces himself as Dan Perry and speaks at length about why he’s here and what he’s looking for. It’s all pretty much as I expected. He asks us both some questions about ourselves and takes plenty of notes. Tessa has yet to meet my eyes, and when I’m speaking, she looks out the window rather than directly at me. I hate the distance between us, and I’m torn between wanting the man to leave so I can talk to her and hoping he stays longer so I can put off telling her about Kat.

  Finally, the kids are called in. They fly straight at me when they see me, and I give them both big hugs and tell them how much I missed them. But when Mr. Perry begins asking them questions, we both notice they go to Tessa for comfort and reassurance while they answer them. They sit in the chair with her, her arms wrapped protectively around each small body. They look so much alike that they could be her own children.

  Mr. Perry informs us he’ll be giving his observations and recommendations directly to the judge and we’ll get the results of the judge’s decision at the hearing on Monday.

  Once he’s gone, I stand in the middle of Tessa’s den feeling out of place. The kids have gone back outside to play, taking a mid-morning treat from the trolley with them. I can hear Mrs. MacThomas washing dishes in the kitchen, and Tessa is still avoiding looking at me. All I want to do is walk across the room and take her
into my arms. I want to hide my face in her gorgeous, honeysuckle smelling black hair and tell her that I love her. I want to tell her that every minute I have to spend away from her and the kids is torture. I want to make love to her and never stop.

  But she still won’t even look at me. So, I lamely ask her how’s she’s doing.

  Boy, was that ever a mistake.

  38

  Tessa

  “How am I doing?” I can’t even believe he just asked me that, like we’re acquaintances who’ve just met up on the street. Casual and careless. I honestly had just been getting ready to ask him to stay for the day and play with the kids. They’ve really missed him and need some quality time with their uncle. I was even toying with the idea of asking him to stay for dinner with us all tonight, as well. But that one ridiculous question made me lose it.

  “How am I doing? How the holy hell do you think I’m doing?” I’m good and agitated now. All the pent-up emotions, the anger and frustration, explode out of me like a fourth of July roman candle.

  “I’ll tell you how I’m doing, Bramble Gordon Big-Shot Carter. I’m angry. You used me and then you ran away. No, you didn’t just run away. You ran to her. Then you just acted like I didn’t even exist. It’s wonderful you speak to the kids every night, but I can’t help but notice you never once asked to talk to me. You never once asked them if I’m okay. I keep asking myself what I did wrong, but the answer’s been staring me in the face this whole time. What I did wrong was trust you. I shouldn’t blame you, I guess, because I knew going in that you’re a playboy. I’ve seen all the pictures of you and a million other women, all beautiful and rich and perfect. But you acted totally different from what I thought you would. You were sweet and acted like you actually cared about me. I believed you actually cared about me. But you just used me and then threw me away.”