by Kate, Jiffy
“It’s going to be okay.”
“How do you know?”
He walks up behind me, wrapping his arms around me. “Because we’re in this together and because I know your sister and Bo. They’re going to be supportive.”
My stomach drops again at the thought of what we’re getting ready to tell them. I know Ross is right. I know Charlotte and Bo will be supportive. Even if they’re not at first, they will be eventually. But it’s the in-between that freaks me out and also the unknown. How will my sister handle this news? Will it bring up unwanted feelings about her own pregnancy?
Ross dips down and presses his lips against my cheek and I relax into him.
He’s my soothing balm.
Anytime I start to get anxious or nervous about anything to do with the baby, I think of him or go to him and he makes it better.
After my appointment yesterday, which I went to alone, because I don’t want to risk Ross Davies being seen leaving an OB/GYN office, he insisted that we tell Charlotte and Bo. This way, I can at least have my sister with me at future appointments.
He’s been really great about not pushing too hard. And he understands my reservations about going public with the pregnancy. But I’m almost fifteen weeks along and I’m starting to show. My stomach is still small, like I ate too many tacos, but it’s there, and in a few more weeks, I won’t be able to hide it.
Which brings me to my next hurdle—telling my parents.
Ross has been frothing at the bit to share the news with his parents, who desperately want grandchildren, but I’ve been dragging my feet with mine.
They’ve been through this before, and even though Charlotte was younger than me, I’m still worried about how they’ll react. On our weekly phone calls, I’ve played it safe and avoided all conversation about Ross and living in his guest house because they weren’t happy about it.
We don’t understand why you’d move out of your sister’s house.
It doesn’t look good to live in some guy’s guest house.
Ross isn’t some guy, but tell that to parents who are surrounded by Hollywood’s elite.
“They’re here,” Ross says, kissing the top of my head and walking to the foyer to open the door.
Taking a deep, fortifying breath, I put on a smile and join him.
Something about this moment feels a lot like playing house, which doesn’t settle well with me, but I put it out of my mind for now and focus on the task at hand.
“Hey, man,” Bo says, walking up and clasping Ross’s hand and pulling him in for a manly hug. “Thanks for having us over.”
Bo leans down and kisses my cheek. “Charlotte brought her famous buffalo chicken dip.”
“I’ve got chicken and steaks for the grill,” Ross says, taking the dish from my sister as she makes her way up onto the porch. “And Casey made a delicious looking salad.”
“A salad is all we get from you?” my sister teases, giving me a wink. “I’m disappointed. I came for the twice-baked potatoes.”
“You know we’ve gotta stick to the protein,” Ross says, covering for me, because the truth is I was so sick this morning he finished making the salad.
Charlotte rolls her eyes. “Just because the two of you have a figure to keep doesn’t mean we have to follow suit. Isn’t that right, Case? The Carradine girls need their carbs.”
“I’ll make it up to you and bring you a special batch next weekend when the guys are on the road.” I smile and bring her in for a hug. “We’ll make an entire meal out of twice-baked potatoes.”
“And wine,” she adds, moving into the kitchen and helping herself to some veggies Ross cut up. “Speaking of…”
Ross answers her question without her finishing it by grabbing a bottle out of the fridge and uncorking it for her.
“Case?” she asks, holding up a glass.
I swallow, realizing now is probably as good a time as any to tell her I’m on a no-wine diet for the next five months… or longer, since I’ve decided to breastfeed the baby.
Clearing my throat, I lick my lips and look up at Ross who nods encouragingly.
“I have something to tell you,” I begin, glancing back up at Ross. “We have something to tell you.”
My heart is literally trying to bust its way out of my chest as I try to control my breathing.
God, this is harder than telling Ross.
At least with Ross, I knew he was partially to blame, but Charlotte and Bo are outsiders… they’re not part of the Casey-Ross-Baby trio… and that scares me.
Like with Ross, I decide the quicker the better. “I’m pregnant.” My eyes flick from Ross to Charlotte and then over to Bo, before settling back on Ross. “We’re pregnant.”
Charlotte’s wineglass slips, but thankfully doesn’t break. Ross hadn’t poured her any wine yet, so she didn’t spill anything either, but the sound echoes around the kitchen as everyone holds their breath.
Ross’s eyes are on me.
Bo’s are on Charlotte.
Charlotte is staring at the wineglass.
“Char,” I urge, trying to decipher her reaction and gauge my response accordingly. Is she mad at me? Sad?
Her head snaps up and her blank expression freaks me out.
“Please say something.”
Righting the wineglass, she picks it up and holds it out to Ross, who takes her silent plea and fills the glass… nearly to the top. Bringing it to her lips, she tips it up and practically drinks the entire glass. When she sets it back down, swiping a hand across her mouth, she levels me with a stare.
“Please say that again.”
Breathing deeply, I fill my lungs with air and then exhale. “I’m pregnant… Ross is the father… It happened after we were together one night. To save you from doing the math, because I know how much you hate it, I’m fifteen and a half weeks pregnant and due the second week of November.”
“So…” she starts, then stops. Her eyes drift from me to Ross, then back to me. “Are the two of you… together?”
My palms feel sweaty, so I rub them down the front of my yoga pants and then clasp them together to keep from fidgeting. “We’re taking it one day at a time,” I tell her. “It was just as much of a shock to us as it is to you.”
“No,” Charlotte says with a humorless chuckle. “No, I doubt that, because I didn’t know that you,” she says, pointing to Ross, “were fucking my sister.”
“Charlotte!” My eyes grow wide and I look to Bo for some help, but he just throws his hands in the air and shakes his head. Turning back to Charlotte, I go to Ross’s defense because I know he won’t. He’d take all the blame if I’d let him. “It’s not like he seduced me, okay? I’m just as much responsible for this as he is… actually, more. I’m more to blame. I seduced him—”
“Casey,” Ross says, trying to stop me, but I keep going.
“No, listen,” I say, walking around the counter and taking Charlotte’s hands in mine. “We’d been working together and you know I had a crush on Ross.” She looks at me, her expression softening a little. “Actually, when you basically forced me into working for him, I thought you were setting us up or something, but that’s not how it was. We kept things as professional as possible.”
I look to Ross and he just smirks.
“Until one night before he left for Spring Training… we had a little too much wine… a lot too much wine… and I attacked him. Right here in this kitchen… literally just went for it.”
At that, Charlotte chuckles and rolls her eyes. “So, the one time you just go for it, you get knocked up?”
“I know, right?” I reply, laughing as a few tears prick my eyes. “And I’d forgotten to take a pill here and there… totally not responsible, I know, but I wasn’t… you know.” I widen my eyes, trying to convey that I hadn’t been with anyone for quite a while before Ross.
Charlotte nods because she understands my silent communication, so I continue.
“And that night was…” Filling up my cheeks
with air, I blow it out and look behind me, realizing we still have an audience. “Well, it was… intense.”
“And we made a baby,” Ross says matter-of-factly. “End of story time. Who wants steaks?”
Everyone laughs at his attempt to ease the tension and even though I know we’re not finished with this conversation, Charlotte nods. “Yeah, I could eat.”
“Me too,” I tell him, giving him a reassuring look as he and Bo walk out of the kitchen to fire up the grill, leaving me and Charlotte alone. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner… I freaked out and didn’t even tell Ross until a month ago. Since then, I’ve been trying to figure out a good time to tell you, but every time I’d work up the courage, I’d think about…”
I drift off, not wanting to bring up her pregnancy or the baby if she doesn’t want to talk about it.
“The baby,” she offers.
Nodding, I walk around the counter and push myself up onto a barstool, while Charlotte pours herself another glass of wine. This time, she takes a sip—not a guzzle—and I’m hopeful this conversation will go better than I’d feared.
“Yeah, the baby… you don’t talk about it much anymore and I didn’t want to bring up bad memories or hurt you in any way.”
She gives me a sad smile. “You’re not, Case.” Reaching across the counter, she grabs for my hand and I give it to her. “I’ve come to terms with all of that. I just worry about you. Even though you’ve always taken care of me, I’m still your big sister and I worry about you. To hear some guy, even if it was Ross Davies, knocked you up—”
“Stop saying that.” I close my eyes, letting out a laugh of exasperation. “You make it sound like we’re fifteen-year-olds in high school. And it wasn’t just him… he didn’t get me anything. I helped. It was me too.”
This time, her smile is wider and I see her swallow hard, like she’s fighting back emotions.
“That’s a very mature, adult thing to say.” Nodding, she glances down at the counter and then back up to me, and this time, there are tears in her eyes. “When you were standing there telling me you were pregnant, it was like I was looking at my twelve-year-old little sister all over again. I know you’re an adult and more than capable of raising a baby. Shit, you’ve practically raised me. And I don’t know what your relationship with Ross is like or what it will be, but I know he’ll be a good father.”
I know all of those things too, but to hear her say it makes me feel better. It’s the encouragement I’ve needed to know I can do this.
She’s been the missing link.
I know I have Ross’s support and that is enough… I could make it be enough, but Charlotte and I have had each other’s backs through everything. She’s been my best friend and confidante, my voice of reason, and also the person who tells me it’s okay to take a risk.
“Tell me this is going to be okay,” I whisper, needing to hear it from her.
Her hands grip mine tighter. “It’s going to be more than okay… you’re going to kick motherhood’s ass and I’m going to be the best fucking aunt ever.”
“Please don’t use that language around my baby.”
Charlotte breaks out into a fit of laughter as Ross and Bo walk back into the kitchen. I can see the relief on Bo’s face. He was worried about her too, but now that he sees she’s okay, he seems to be also.
I love that about them. They’re each other’s biggest fans and biggest protectors. Bo would slay dragons for Charlotte and she’d burn the world down for him.
I want that.
Chapter 23
Ross
“Davies,” Buddy says, poking his head out of his office. “Can I see you for a minute?”
It’s still a couple of hours before game time. Most of the guys are in their own little world, playing video games or listening to music. Since it’s an off day for me, I was just shooting the shit with Mack.
He looks at me, giving me an eyebrow raise. “Good luck with that.”
“Yeah,” I reply, standing up and heading toward Buddy’s office.
I hope this doesn’t have anything to do with my last few starts. To say I’ve been off my game is putting it mildly. I’m basically in a slump, which can happen during the season, but it’s too early for that and my arm feels great, which means it’s exactly what Mack accused me of.
It’s Casey.
Well, not her exactly. This isn’t her fault. It’s mine and my overactive brain. I can’t shut it off. All I do nowadays when I’m not with her is think about her and everything that could go wrong.
With the baby.
With her.
With us.
After Felicia told me she wanted a divorce, my world felt like it was spinning out of control. I didn’t get a choice in the matter. One day we were married and doing everything we could to make it work, or so I thought, and the next minute she needed to talk to me… and it was over.
Something about now is reminiscent of that, like there are all of these moving parts and I’m not in control of any of them.
“What’s up, Skip?” I ask, stepping into Buddy’s office.
“Close the door,” he says, not looking up from the stack of papers in front of him. “Have a seat.”
Okay.
Feeling like a kid called to the principal’s office, I shut the door and sit in the leather chair, waiting for the hammer to fall.
“I’m assuming you’ve heard about the trade with New York,” he starts, finally looking up at me and making my stomach drop.
Of course, I’ve heard about the trade with New York, but what exactly does that have to do with me? As far as I know, it’s a done deal. But I don’t like my name and trade used in the same sentence.
“Yeah, I know about it.”
Buddy nods. “Good,” he says, gathering his papers and tapping them into a neat stack. “Along with Malcolm Malone, we also acquired a closer. He’s been sent down several times, but I think, with good coaching and someone to help him work through his shit, he could be a valuable asset to our bullpen.”
Immediate relief rushes through me and the fog clears as I let out a deep breath. Buddy smirks, like he knew I was sweating it for a minute and I kind of want to punch him for it. Except for the fact he’s more like a second dad to me and I’d never hurt an old man.
Smirking back at him, I shake my head. “And you want me to help this guy work through his shit?”
“Yeah,” he says, pushing away from his desk and grabbing a file. “I think it’d do you both some good.”
He’s such a sneaky bastard sometimes and he knows I’d never turn down a chance to help another player. This is also his way of letting me know he knows I’m also working through some shit.
“And who is this guy?” I ask, trying to run through New York’s roster and think about who they’d trade this early in the season.
“Owen Thatcher.”
Owen Thatcher.
“I haven’t seen that guy since we both played in Detroit.” I shake my head. “We go way back.”
Buddy huffs a laugh. “I know, which is why I think you could help him. Plus, he went through a nasty break-up not too long ago and has two kids… single dad. It’s gotta be hard on him, but with what you went through at the end of last season, I thought you’d be able to help him. And I’ve seen how you are with the guys in the clubhouse. They look up to you and listen to you.”
“I don’t know about that,” I say, feeling a little unworthy of the praise. I’m not sure I’ve really been filling the leader role as of late.
“I do,” Buddy says, setting his pen down and lacing his fingers behind his head as he leans back in his chair. “Even when you think you’re not on your game, you’re still better than most.”
Shaking my head, I start to argue with him, but he gives me his signature glare and I shut my mouth. If Buddy Malone says it, you listen.
“Fine,” I tell him. “I’ll do what I can.”
“Good, he’ll be here in two days.”
&n
bsp; Thatch and I fall into an old cadence as we throw balls into a net in my backyard.
“Can’t believe we’re here,” he says, bending down and grabbing another ball out of the bucket. “Who’d have thought the two of us would end up on the same team again?”
Chuckling, I throw a knuckleball, appreciating how it felt as I released it. “Nothing surprises me anymore.”
“That’s the fucking truth,” he says, winding up and throwing a nice fastball. He definitely has some heat.
“Buddy mentioned you had a nasty breakup,” I say, trying to sound casual. I don’t want to pressure him into talking, but if he needs to get some shit off his chest, I want him to know I’m here to listen.
Thatch blows out a breath, shaking his head. “If by nasty he means feeling like I’ve had my life flipped upside down, yeah, I guess you could say that.”
I think he’s going to stop there, but then he continues.
“Lisa and I were together for six years. She never wanted to get married but we had two kids together. I thought we were good, you know? Then one day, I come home and the nanny told me she’d left me a note. It basically said she wasn’t cut out for this life and knew I could give the kids a better life than she could and she bailed.”
We stand there for a minute, just letting that settle between us. I wasn’t sure what to say and he was obviously reeling in memories or still trying to wrap his mind around it.
I can’t imagine.
“Just fucking bailed… our daughter is five and she asks me every night when she’s coming home. It kills me. Our son is three and he knows she’s gone, but he’s easily distracted.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, rubbing my chest as my thoughts drift from Felicia to Casey to this baby… I’ve been battling thoughts of Casey leaving me like Felicia did and even though I know they are two completely different people, it doesn’t quiet the noise in my head.
“Who watches the kids while you’re at games and on the road?” I ask, wondering how you handle logistics for something like that. Shit, I need Casey to run my everyday life. If by some crazy chance she decided she didn’t want to be a mother or be with me and upped and left, I’d be so fucking screwed.