by M. Garzon
I’d have to be anesthetized, the doctor explained, although the procedure itself would only take fifteen minutes.
I dragged my eyes over to Seth’s. “You should go home. It’ll be hours before I can leave.”
“You’re in no shape to order me around, Sparky. I’ll call Dec and tell him we’ll both be home tomorrow. Or rather, later today.”
I didn’t argue. I was more grateful than I could say for his presence.
The first thing I did upon regaining consciousness was to throw up, which I thought was grossly unfair under the circumstances. Seth supported me by the elbow as we emerged, blinking, into the early-morning light. His face was slack and grey from lack of sleep, and I could only imagine how I looked.
Bad, if Dec’s reaction was anything to go by. We gave him the food poisoning story we’d concocted and both went up to bed. Dec brought me a glass of water and hesitated by the edge of my bed. It was as close to hovering as he’d ever come.
“I should’ve gone with you,” he reproached himself.
“I’ll be fine, Dec. Just give me a couple of days.” The world was spinning around me, and I didn’t think I could stay conscious for much longer.
He patted my arm gingerly and left. As soon as I was alone, hot tears sprang from my eyes and ran down my temples. My brain was fuzzy, and my body felt empty, so empty, and the only person who could possibly make me feel whole again was over five thousand miles away. On impulse, I got up and opened my laptop. I wrote him a short, passionate, despairing email, and finally surrendered to sleep.
I woke up after dinnertime, had some clear broth that Gran had thoughtfully left for me, and went right back to sleep. I felt better the following morning. The bleeding was still fairly heavy, but it was Saturday so I got dressed, found coffee and headed outside to teach.
The tackroom was full. Gran was there, along with Catherine, Seth, and Dec, all busily divvying up my lessons.
“I’m not dead, you know,” I said wryly.
Gran bustled over, scanning my face anxiously. “You don’t look well, dear. Why don’t you rest for another day?”
I shook my head almost frantically. The last thing I wanted was to be imprisoned in the house with my guilt all day. “I’m fine. I want to work.”
After some haggling, I was finally allotted a few lessons to teach. I debated riding, but even if I managed to sneak by everybody, my ongoing cramps would have made it impossible. I hung around the barn doing odd jobs, feeling dejected and useless, but eventually, I had to admit to tiredness and go to the house. I started making dinner. I was a very indifferent cook, but it kept me busy, which was my only goal.
Seth came in as I was chopping carrots. He went to the fridge and gulped down three glasses of apple juice before coming to rest his hip against the counter next to me.
“How are you feeling?”
I shrugged, almost slicing my fingertip. “Okay.”
He took the knife out of my hand and laid it on the cutting board. “Don’t even try that on me.”
I faced him, suddenly angry. “You want to know how I feel? I feel like crap. I ache and I’m bleeding and I’m still goddam nauseous. But it happened for a reason because when I was standing in front of that gun, I didn’t even think about the fact that I was pregnant. Didn’t even remember. What kind of horrible mother would I have made?”
Seth scowled at me. “You think you had a miscarriage because for one minute, in an ultra-stressful situation, you forgot you were a few weeks pregnant?” he scoffed.
“Sure, if you say it like that it sounds stupid,” I said irritably.
He flipped his shaggy hair out of his eyes and leaned forward so that our gazes were level. “The doctor said it was a real common thing, remember? It wasn’t anything you did.” His voice had gone soft. I wanted to believe him, but it was hard. Especially when the miscarriage felt as much like a reprieve as a loss.
Gran stayed for dinner, and she and Dec did most of the talking. I excused myself as soon as I could and tried to distract myself with a paperback in my bedroom. I was contemplating another early bedtime when Dec called me.
“Téa, can you come down here for a minute?” His voice sounded strange.
I trudged down the stairs but stopped in surprise at the bottom. “Aunt Paloma.” I faltered. “Hi.”
Dec patted the couch next to him; I obediently went and sat beside him before giving him an inquiring look.
“Did something happen with you and Jaden? Is something wrong?” he asked hesitantly.
I dropped my eyes to the ground. What could I say? That everything was wrong? That I hadn’t done a single thing right since being lucky enough to have the most wonderful man in the world fall in love with me?
“Why?” I asked a question since I couldn’t figure out an answer that wouldn’t sound trite.
“My brother called me,” Aunt Paloma said quietly. “He said that Jaden disappeared for a whole day, and that when he came back it was obvious he’d been in a fight.”
I inhaled sharply as my eyes raced to find hers; my heart was already slamming against my ribs. “Is he okay?” I demanded.
She nodded. “Yes, but his uncle couldn’t get any kind of explanation out of him. Emiliano said he got the impression it had to do with... well, with a girlfriend.” She uttered the word slowly, carefully, as though it didn’t feel right in her mouth. Which it probably didn’t.
I stared unseeingly at the floor. Could there be another girl? The thought made me want to vomit, and I shoved it away. No, I had to believe this was about me. I tried to remember the last time I’d talked to him, what I’d said. A chill began to creep through me. I’d sent him an email, I remembered suddenly, when I was drugged-out and upset. I wracked my brain to remember what I’d written. Every word was a separate claw, tearing at me.
You left, and now something awful’s happened, and I’m afraid nothing will ever be the same between us. I didn’t mean for it to happen, Jaden. I’m sorry.
That was the gist of the message I’d sent.
Damn, damn, damn. My eyes were filling with tears, which I struggled to contain. My now-clear brain knew all too well how Jaden would have interpreted that email — it sounded as though I had cheated on him. Why had I gone and sent that stupid message? I jumped up.
“Where are you going?” Dec’s hand on my arm stopped me.
“I have to call him,” I said hoarsely.
“Why don’t you explain to us what’s going on first?” Aunt Paloma asked. She appeared on the verge of anger, her dark eyes throwing sparks.
I pleaded with Dec. “I can’t. Not now, please.”
He nodded slowly, releasing my arm. The expression on his face made it clear that I’d have to talk later, but I’d deal with it then.
“Sorry, Aunt Paloma,” I said hurriedly.
I ran upstairs. I called his Argentina cell number; his Spanish message came on almost right away. Even across the thousands of miles that separated us, the warmth of his tone made my insides melt.
“Jaden, it’s me.” I hesitated, unsure. “That message wasn’t what you thought.” My voice broke even though I was speaking hardly above a whisper. “Please call me. Please.”
I tried viciously to suppress the sobs that were tearing through my chest. You don’t have the right to cry over this, I told myself savagely. You should suffer the pain of it, as Jaden so obviously is.
There was a soft knock at my door. Too soft to be Dec.
“Yes?” I straightened up, hurriedly wiping away tears with my sleeve.
Aunt Paloma came in. She hesitated by the door for a minute before coming to sit by me on the bed. She wasn’t close, but it was the first time in a long time that she’d sought me out.
“Jaden told me that you’re the one who convinced him to go help his uncle. I wanted to tell you that I’m grateful.”
I hadn’t done it for her. I shrugged, feeling ungracious but not quite managing to care.
“Can I ask why you did it
?” Her voice was soft but compelling. There was a lot of his mother in Jaden.
I looked into her face for the first time. “You saw him this summer, he was miserable. And I remembered, after Blaze died... well, falling in love with Jaden saved my sanity, but it wasn’t until I began riding jumpers again that I found any real joy, you know? I thought playing polo might do that for him.”
She nodded slowly. A small, sad smile curved the corners of her mouth. “You have great trust in each other.”
I hesitated, but I had nothing to lose. “If by that you mean I trust Jaden to be faithful, then yes.”
She seemed startled by my directness. “The Foster men, for all their issues, are a faithful lot. I was referring to the fact that long-term separation can be hard on even a seasoned relationship.”
“Look, Aunt Paloma, I’m not naïve. I realize that he may find that life without me is more peaceful than a life spent putting up with my impulsiveness and my ambitious dreams. And if he does, well, I’ll learn to accept that. It may just about kill me, but above all else I want him to be happy.”
Tenderness stole over her features, and she leaned forward and enfolded me in her arms. She was soft and smelled like vanilla, and it had been so long since I’d been held like this, in an embrace so maternal, that my tears spilled forth despite all my attempts to control them.
“He’s my own son, and it’s taken me two years to come to the realization that his happiness is more important than my limiting beliefs,” Aunt Paloma murmured. She released me and leaned back to find my face. “I hope you can forgive me for taking so long to reach the right conclusion.”
I took her hand. “There’s nothing to forgive. We’re all just doing the best we can.”
* * *
Jaden didn’t call back that night. There wasn’t much of a time difference so I knew that wasn’t the reason. The realization that he didn’t want to talk to me was almost intolerable, and I lay awake all night, staring into blackness. How would he react when he found out the truth? That I’d been pregnant and hadn’t even been careful enough to stay that way, after giving him my word that I’d take care of myself? I could only imagine how betrayed he would feel.
I stumbled to the bathroom for a shower the next morning. The reflection in the mirror looked positively haggard. I had just wrapped a towel around my dripping hair when my phone rang. I ran to my room, and my hand shook when I saw Jaden’s name.
“I’m so glad you called,” I stammered. “My love, I’m-”
“Save the apologies,” he said harshly. I doubled over, choking back sobs. I pictured his face; I knew how it would look when his voice was hard like that — as though it was carved from granite.
“It’s not what you think,” I whispered.
“It never is.” He hung up.
* * *
I had school the next day. It seemed completely pointless to go, but at least at school, I could stare numbly into space without anyone commenting on it. Days passed, even though I was only dimly aware of them. The Royal Agricultural Winter Fair was running and my friends tried to convince me to go, but in the face of my steadfast refusal they compromised and came over to watch it on TV. Julia sat on one side of me, Teri on the other, and Seth sprawled his lanky body over the loveseat.
I’d been avoiding so much as a passing thought of Hades. I hadn’t wanted to hear news, gossip, or updates on his progress. Everyone around me knew it was a forbidden topic. But we were watching an international class, so I wasn’t shocked when he came on the screen. What did shock me was the manner of his entry.
Paul Baker was unquestionably a better physical match for Hades, but someone had apparently forgotten to tell Hades that. He rocketed into the ring practically breathing fire, his nostrils as red as blood, dripping sweat although he hadn’t even started his round yet. I sat bolt upright.
“What the hell does he have in his mouth?” I yelled. Hades was wearing a brutal-looking bit, and the way he was jerking his nose up with every stride made it clear that he hated it. Of course, anything that actually injured the horse would get the rider disqualified, but there was no visible injury, just Hades’ obvious distress. I dug my nails into my palms as he started his round. He was fighting Paul’s hands, but Paul was implacable, keeping Hades going with his spurs. My heart lodged in my throat as they jumped the first line; as they rounded the corner Hades tossed his head up dramatically, almost hitting Paul in the face. Paul brought his whip down, and Hades predictably went ballistic. He flung his head up and bounded sideways, knocking Paul into the boards. When Paul tried to force him forward Hades reared. There was a sea of shocked faces in the background — this was the type of behavior almost never seen at shows, and certainly not in a class of this caliber. As soon as Hades’ front hooves hit the ground, Paul signaled his withdrawal from the class. It was the first smart move I’d seen him make.
I shot to my feet. I felt as though I’d been hit with a blast of cold air, clearing the miasma of confused emotion that had been plaguing me for weeks and leaving me shaking with rage.
“Téa, wait-”
I stomped upstairs for my phone. I called Monica and left her a message stressing that what I’d just seen was abuse and that if they didn’t do something about it, I would report them. To whom I’d report them I wasn’t sure, but I was determined to get Hades away from that monster.
Seeing my former partner like that was the last straw, but my fury snapped me out of the self-pitying stupor I’d been wallowing in. I had lost Hades, I had lost a pregnancy, and I was probably going to lose my home, but there were some things I would fight to keep.
After Teri and Julia left I called Jaden. He didn’t answer, but I left him a message, hoping he would hear the earnestness in my voice.
“I know you’re upset, but you’re upset for the wrong reasons. I need to talk to you. You probably won’t like some of the things I have to tell you but above all, I want to say that I love you. I love you, Jaden.”
My newfound determination was sorely tested when I didn’t hear back from him the next day, and I went to bed wondering what more I could do. I was loading the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher the following morning when I heard voices; when Dec called me I strolled into the living room wiping my hands on a dishtowel. As I looked up I stumbled to a stop, the dishtowel fluttering to the ground.
Jaden was standing in the entrance.
He was wearing a thick cream-colored sweater and faded jeans, and sported more stubble than I was used to seeing. He looked like he’d just stepped off the Pampas. My heart beat painfully in my chest, and my mouth was too full of all the things I couldn’t say for me to make a sound.
Dec looked back and forth between us. “Well, ah, I’ll just leave you-”
“It’s all right, Dec. I think Téa and I will go for a ride,” Jaden said. His eyes moved to me. They were hard, almost challenging, and I felt heat where they touched me.
I took Seth’s horse Winter since I could easily ride him bareback with a halter. Jaden rode Dec’s horse, Beau. We didn’t speak as we got underway. I shivered in my long-sleeved shirt, as I’d been too shocked to put on a jacket. My stolen glances at Jaden showed that he wasn’t even looking at me. He moved Beau into a jog, and we rode in silence to our copse. Once the horses were tied he sank to the ground and rested his arm on one bent knee. I lowered myself shakily into the grass. I was at an angle to him, not quite next to him but not facing him either.
I started trembling from more than cold, and I was reminded of the old days, before we were together, when we couldn’t touch because we couldn’t admit our love for one another. Oh, how simple those days now seemed.
“You wanted to talk,” he said, his voice low. “Go ahead.”
But all my carefully thought-out words had fled at the sight of him. Every electron in my cells seemed to vibrate to the pitch of his body. My trembling increased as I heard him shift closer. He was sitting beside me now. My throat was so tight that my voice was hoarse wh
en I forced myself to speak.
“Aren’t you even going to touch me, Jaden?”
I felt him go very still.
“I wasn’t sure you would want me to.”
I looked at him then. I was frowning. In what weird parallel dimension would I not want Jaden’s touch?
“Why?” I whispered. His eyes searched mine, his expression moving from hard to hopeful. I started to reach for him, and his hands closed around my face, his mouth crushed mine, and we fell together into the long, leaf-strewn grass. His lips worked urgently against mine as his body covered me. I clutched him to me with all of my might; I wanted to hold him so close that nothing could ever come between us.
I ripped my mouth away from his only long enough to whisper one word. “Please.”
He knew what I wanted. He always knew. He yanked my pants down in one motion; I barely had a chance to register the cool air brushing my skin before he was pushing into me, flooding me with his heat.
It was over in minutes, and he lay still, blanketing me with his body. I kept my arms wrapped around him, holding him in place. He was leaner than I’d ever seen him, not thin exactly — he still had too much muscle mass for that — but he’d definitely lost weight. I turned my face so that my cheek rested against his stubbled one.
“Did I hurt you?” he muttered.
“No,” I whispered. And if he had, I wouldn’t have cared, so desperate had I been to feel his body against mine.
Suddenly I stiffened. I wasn’t supposed to be doing this yet — there was a danger of infection or something. In the heat of the moment, I’d forgotten. Jaden misread my tension and started to move off me.
“No,” I pleaded, tightening my hold. I was loath to put any distance between us now.
He sighed a hot breath onto my neck. “We’re doing it again. Having sex instead of talking.”
“We’ll talk,” I murmured. I slid my hands up and down his back under his sweater, feeling the ridges of his ribs. Now that he was here, so close, I was growing reluctant to have that conversation, afraid of the judgment I was sure I’d find in his eyes.