Transcend
Page 24
“Why is your daddy envious of you?” I tickle her feet. “Because you get to spend the day with me? That’s crazy.”
It is. Right? I wish I could control my mind, but I can’t. It’s skipping backwards to this morning’s dream.
Stop thinking about that dream!
How did my mind go from Griffin dying to sex with twenty-something Nate? I force my thoughts into all things baby: dirty diapers, spit up, tummy time, stroller walks, naps. Over the next seven hours we do it all. With each passing hour, I become more attached to this little girl. I feel like her mom. It’s not right. I’m not her mom. I never will be her mom. But I’m the mother figure raising her at the moment.
If Nate finds love again, that new person in their lives will not have rocked Morgan to sleep, comforted her during fevers, insisted that her dad hold her more, or made her giggle for the first time. Those are my moments.
I’m not in love with Nate, in spite of my dreams, but I’m in love with Morgan. She doesn’t make me want to have a baby, she makes me want her.
“My mom’s here!” I nuzzle Morgan’s neck, eliciting giggles as I carry her to the door. “Oh … wow … what’s this all about?” My jaw drops.
My mom smiles, so does Sherri, Chloe, Hayley, and Sophie.
“Surprise!” Sophie throws her arms up in the air.
“It’s a huge surprise.” I step back and gesture for them to come inside.
“A little birdie told us you could use lots of company…” Sherri wraps an arm around me for a side hug “…and lots of hugs.”
“Gimme, gimme, gimme.” My mom kisses me on the cheek then steals Morgan. “She’s adorable.”
Chloe, Hayley, and Sophie give me a group hug.
Griffin. He did this. I blink back my emotions. This makes me love him even more and miss him. God … I miss him so much already.
“I can’t believe you’re all here … on a Saturday night. Hayley, you’re giving me a prime night.” I loop my arm around hers and lead everyone to the great room. “I’m not worthy.”
“Griff said he’d be forever indebted to us if we got with your mom and organized a girls’ night. But…” she grins “…we wanted to anyway.”
She pulls away from me as all of them huddle around my mom and Morgan.
“Are you guys here for me or Morgan? Be honest.”
“Both.” Hayley shrugs.
“Well, make sure you wash your hands before touching hers. The professor is a stickler on that.”
“The professor?” Sherri glances over at me.
“Morgan’s dad—my boss—is a professor of anatomy. His name is Nathaniel Hunt, but I like to call him Professor.” And Nate because I know stuff about him, and I’ve had sex with him in my dreams.
Stop going there!
“How’s he doing? He lost his wife didn’t he?” Hayley asks as everyone lines up to wash their hands and play pass the baby.
“He’s doing well, I think. It’s different with a baby. He can’t just move forward and focus on his work or think ahead to finding love again. He’s not just a single guy; he’s a single guy with a baby.”
“And an awesome nanny.” My mom winks at me while handing Morgan to Sherri.
“And that.” I smirk.
“Whoa!” Hayley studies the pictures on the mantel. “Is this the professor?”
I laugh. “Yes.”
“I hope my professors look like him.”
Everyone except me gathers around the mantel.
“He’s handsome,” my mom says.
My mom. I can’t believe the woman who has been unable to think or talk about anything or anyone else except my dad just called another man handsome.
“How old is he?” Sherri leans in closer to the picture.
“Thirty-six.”
“If he shows interest in dating again, you should introduce him to Krista.” Sherri gives a suggestive look to my mom.
I can’t breathe as I wait for my mom to gasp or show some sign of being offended. She’s not over my dad.
Mom bites the corner of her lip. Why is she biting her lip? What is going on here?
“Do you think I could pull off the cougar thing?”
What. The. Fuck?
They’re drooling over Nate. My Nate. Internally I flinch. He’s not actually my Nate, yet he sort of is. It’s complicated. But it’s wrong—so wrong—for them to suggest my mom and him should … what? Date?
I had sex with Nate this morning in my dreams. Yes, so wrong too, but there has to be a universal law against a mother and daughter having sexual thoughts about the same man.
Gross. No. Just … no.
“You don’t look a day older than him. Of course you could pull it off.”
My mom is beautiful, not just for a woman in her forties, for a woman of any age. I hope I look even half as good as her when I reach my forties. But … still no. No Nate for her.
“I don’t think the professor will be ready to date anytime soon. He has a demanding job and a baby. Mom, I think you should look into online dating.”
My shift of topic lures them from the mantel back to the sofa and chairs. Sophie, Hayley, and Chloe steal Morgan and play with her on the floor with her mat and mobile.
“Dr. B suggested that too.”
Good ol’ Dr. Bunz.
“I have several friends who are on dating sites.” Sherri sits next to my mom.
I’m not sure if it’s the best or the worst timing, but my phone rings and it’s the professor.
“I’ll be right back.” I smile and retreat to the bedroom, bringing the phone to my ear. “Hey.”
“It would seem that in spite of my orthotic shoes, the women you’ve invited into my house find me attractive.”
How did I forget about the stupid spy cameras?
“Cocky isn’t becoming of you, Professor. Besides, we’re talking about my boyfriends’ seventeen-year-old sister who is still in high school and two middle-age women—one is my mom and the other is Griffin’s mom. I’m not sure you can puff your chest out too far just from that.”
“You sound hostile.”
I take a deep breath and chew my thumbnail. Do I really sound hostile? “Why would I be hostile?”
“Maybe it’s just you being protective of me. You’re right. I don’t have time to date or the emotional strength to even think about letting another woman into my life. Between my mother, Morgan, and you, I’m at my limit.”
“Me?” I cough a laugh.
He sighs. “I don’t want to dance around this anymore. Denying it won’t make it go away.”
“Nate—”
“I’m not asking you to do anything more than acknowledge it’s the only logical explanation.”
“Stop, just—” I shake my head and close my eyes, gripping my phone like I hate it, and I need it to shut up.
“You have my best friend trapped inside of you!”
And there it is, out in the open, hanging like smoke, blurring everything, and suffocating me.
“I’m not her,” I whisper.
“You are. I’m sorry you can’t see it. Your memories—”
“I have to go. Stop drinking. It’s messing with your mind.”
“I’m not drink—”
I end the call and fight for air. Where did it go? Who sucked all the oxygen from the room?
Nate did. He’s trying to take things that are not his to take. He can’t have Daisy because she’s dead. He can’t have the air in this room because he’s not here to use it. And he can’t steal my sanity no matter how tiny the thread is that I have left of it.
Laughter crawls toward me. I wipe the emotion from my eyes and turn.
“She filled her pants. We’ll change her diaper.” Hayley, with her sisters in tow, looks from doorway to doorway for the nursery.
I nod toward Morgan’s room. “You’re stealing my job. I may have to share my wages with you.”
“Really?” Sophie asks.
“Sure. I haven’t taken my favor
ite girls shopping. I think we should plan an outing.”
Sophie claps her hands. “Yes!”
Hayley rolls her eyes at her sister while Chloe tries to act cool, but I don’t miss the excitement pulling at the corners of her lips.
“Everything’s at the changing table. Let me know if you need help.”
“I’ve changed a gazillion diapers. We’ve got this,” Hayley says while laying Morgan on the changing table.
“Make sure one of you is watching her at all times. She could roll off.”
“We’ve got it. Really.”
I nod. I had it too when I was Hayley’s age. But now I have the protectiveness of a mother with Morgan, so I feel compelled to say everything, even the words I shouldn’t have to say.
“What’s for dinner? Are we ordering in?” I ask Mom and Sherri, avoiding the camera in the corner. I refuse to look at it—at him.
“Pizza?” Sherri suggests.
“Works for me.” I glance at my phone.
Professor: Have a good evening. Thank you again for staying.
Why does he make it so hard to be angry with him? I slide my phone in my pocket.
“Sherri said you’re moving.”
Making eye contact with my mom, I grimace, as does Sherri. If Griffin told her, of course she’d assume I told my mom.
Sherri holds up her hands. “In all fairness, I just found out this morning when Griffin called. He asked us to check in with you and to see if you needed help moving anything to his place before he gets back home.”
“I was going to tell you tonight.”
My mom waves me off. “It’s fine. I’m sure you were.” She folds her hands in her lap. “Moving in together. Things must be serious.”
I give Sherri a tight grin. She’s never hidden her love for me. I know there’s nothing she would love more than for Griffin to ask me to marry him. It’s my dream too.
But my mom is more reserved. That’s fair. I’m her only child. She should feel protective of me. The fact that I realize this makes me pretty damn proud of myself.
“I think we’re serious. Most of the time he’s at my apartment or I’m at his house, so it makes sense to just live together and save on rent.”
“So you’re having premarital sex?”
What?
The evil women before me do a stupendous job of keeping serious expressions as I disappear into the chair under their scrutiny.
“Are you serious? You bought me condoms and lubricant for my nineteenth birthday.” I remain unblinking for a few seconds until my mom cracks a smile.
“She did?” Hayley startles me.
I glance back. This conversation is not appropriate for young ears.
“Wow, Mom, and you won’t even let me get a tattoo.”
Sherri rolls her eyes at Hayley. “Letting you get a tattoo won’t prevent you from getting pregnant.”
“So …” I stand. “What kind of pizza does everyone want?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
It’s been an unforgettable weekend. What started out as me mourning my vacation with Griffin has turned into lovable baby time with Morgan and a night of laughter with my family. I don’t have to marry Griffin to call his family mine. I love them. I love him for making last night happen when he could have been pissed that I didn’t go.
He’s always thinking of me.
However, all the fun and laughter is about to end as the back door opens. My boss is home.
Hand over the baby and get out.
“Hey …” Nate sets his suitcase on the floor and goes straight to the sink to wash his hands, depositing a bouquet of flowers on the counter.
I bounce Morgan in my arms. She has a few drunk-on-milk smiles for her daddy. It calms my nerves, but just a little.
Hand over the baby and get out.
“Trade.” He holds out the flowers to me.
I take them as he takes Morgan. “These are for me?” I don’t mean to sound so breathless, but once again he’s taken all the oxygen from the room.
“For staying.”
I shake my head. “I thought the five grand was for staying.”
“The money is business. The flowers are personal. I know you didn’t stay just for the money. You stayed because you care for Morgan.”
I shrug, but I don’t look at him. I can’t. “I stayed for the money.”
I stayed for Morgan. Who am I kidding? I stayed for Nate because he needed me.
Fuck.
I shouldn’t have stayed. My mom is my family. Griffin is my family. His parents and sisters are my family. Nate and Morgan are not my family. I need to remember this.
“Well…” he clears his throat “…you’re good at what you do.”
I nod, keeping my gaze on the flowers. My feet won’t move. They’re rooted to the floor. Nate holds me captive without touching me. The force of his past is greater than my strength to walk away. It won’t let go.
“She’s out,” he whispers.
I glance up. Morgan’s asleep on his shoulder. I knew she was getting close.
“Don’t go yet.” His gaze locks with mine for a few moments before he carries Morgan to her room.
This is my chance to run. I should. Nothing good can come from the two of us alone. But my legs won’t work.
His shadowy figure ghosts toward me. I will never let this be more than an unspoken thought, but I love looking at Nate—the one in my head, the one in the picture, and the one before me. And it breaks. My. Heart.
I love Griffin so completely. He’s everything. What’s left when you have everything?
Nothing.
That’s the logical answer. That should be the only answer. But the rules of reason don’t apply to me because I see things I shouldn’t see, I know things I shouldn’t know, and the answer to what’s left when I have everything is … Nate Hunt.
He walks with this swagger that’s unintentional. That’s just him. He’s quietly confident. When he stops in front of me, once again invading my space, I suck in a silent breath. He doesn’t speak. It’s as if his proximity says it all—he thinks I’m her. He would stand this close to her. She would let him.
“I think you miss your wife,” I whisper, staring at our bare feet an inch from touching.
“Terribly.”
His response grips my heart.
“I think you miss Daisy.”
“More than words.”
The hair on the back of my neck shoots up.
“Nate …” My chin inches higher until our eyes meet. “I’m afraid of what’s going to happen when you realize I’m not her.”
He cups the side of my face with his hand. I can’t breathe. If he kisses me, I will shatter.
“I’m afraid of what will happen when you realize you are her.” He closes the space between us.
Don’t kiss me.
Kiss me.
Don’t.
Do …
He brings my cheek to his chest the way he did in the garage, but this time his lips press to my head. Griffin’s girlfriend doesn’t want to kiss Nate, but the girl who wants to know why Nate lives in her head—that girl wonders if a kiss would bring the past to life, bring clarity to confusion.
I don’t hug him, but I want to.
I don’t speak because there are no words for this.
I live in his embrace until he releases me. And when he does, I rest my palms on his chest to steady myself. It’s there, in our touch—undeniable—like I’ve touched him a million times. That’s why he thinks I’m her.
Nate gives me a sad smile when my eyes shift to meet his. “The memories you have … they’re not mine. They’re hers—they’re yours.”
I shake my head slowly.
“Yes.” He grabs my wrists as I start to step away and presses them back to his chest. “Everything you know about me is what Morgan knew. You know what she saw. You know what I shared with her. You know what my dad shared with her about the hockey camp. You say things that she said. You called the birth
mark on my stomach a heart—she’s the only one who ever said that. I don’t know how … but you have her memories of me. And I don’t know why you don’t remember her—or you—in that life, but …”
“I have to go.” I take a step back without moving my hands from his chest. I’m connected to this man in a way that defies all logic.
His chin dips as we both stare at my hands on his chest.
Undefinable.
Magnetic.
Life-altering.
Slowly. Painfully. I fist my hands and drop them to my sides. “What time tomorrow?” I whisper.
“Six.”
I nod. “Goodnight, Professor.”
*
We don’t speak of Daisy for the rest of the week. I keep the photo in my pocket. Of course, I don’t know why. My Don’t Know List has grown exponentially in the past few months. For someone who started life intellectually advanced, I have fallen into a dark hole of the unknown.
I know Nate holds a part of me I never knew existed. But after a week, I also know that I don’t function well without Griffin. He called me from someone else’s phone three days ago to let me know his phone was stolen. I haven’t talked with him since.
“I’m sure he’ll be here soon.” Sherri hands me a plate of food. It smells good, but my appetite died when I lost contact with Griffin.
“You really didn’t need to do this.” I give her a guilty smile.
His family and my mom helped me move my stuff into his house yesterday. Now they’re serving me dinner at “our” house while we wait for his arrival, which is uncertain since no one has talked to him in three days.
“Your nerves are palpable, Swayze. He asked us to keep an eye on you and that’s what we’re doing. You’re family.”
I force a smile and rearrange the food on my plate with my fork, eating at most three peas and one bite of chicken. The past week messed with my head, making me question my existence, my identity, my purpose. Griffin grounds me. I find the best version of myself rooted in his love. Thinking of Nate loving Jenna and Daisy the same way I love Griffin is unbearable.
“I should have gone.” I push back my chair and stand, shoving my fingers through my hair. “He should be here. Why isn’t he here? Why didn’t he get a new phone? Why … Gah! I’m going crazy. Motorcycles are dangerous. He’s a sitting duck on the road surrounded by idiots on their cell phones or drunk … or falling asleep at the wheel or—”