Tragic

by Devney Perry

  The results were nothing short of stunning.

  With the kids loaded up on crackers and cookies, Thea and I went into the living room and sank into my new couch. As I chewed a chip, I ran my hand over the camel leather. It was a bit stiff, but after a couple of months of me lounging here to watch the TV now mounted above the fireplace, it would soften.

  “This place turned out so incredible.” Thea looked around the open living room. “I’m so glad you had them vault the ceiling. Those beams make this room.”

  I smiled, letting my head fall back to appreciate the dark wood above us. “It turned out better than I ever imagined.”

  With the open concept, my living room, dining area and kitchen were all one giant room. There were large windows all along the far wall so I could look out into the trees while I was sitting at my dining room table. The fireplace in the living room was made of white stone with some rich built-in shelves on either side for my movies and books and whatever trinkets I found to showcase. The floors were all wooden, even in the kitchen, but I’d added rugs in each of the rooms to warm it up.

  It was exactly what I’d been going for.

  Warm. Bright. Inviting.

  Home.

  “I’m so happy to be here, but I’m going to miss the Airstream,” I told Thea.

  “You can borrow it whenever you want.”

  “It’s so strange to think I’ll be sleeping in my actual bed tonight.”

  I’d arranged for my New York belongings in storage to be transported out here. The truck had arrived yesterday with my furniture and more boxes than I’d remembered owning. So today, Thea and Logan had brought up the kids to help unpack. There were items that didn’t work in this house that I’d swap out for others eventually.

  But as of tonight, I was home. Permanently.

  I took another chip from my bowl but hesitated before dousing it in salsa as my stomach churned. “Ugh.” I gripped my stomach.

  “Not feeling well?” Thea asked.

  I closed my eyes and took a few long breaths, swallowing down the nausea. “No. I’ve just been queasy these last few days. I’m sure it’s just the stress of the move.”

  “That’s no good.”

  “It always goes away by dinner time, and I have my appetite back.”

  “Um . . . could you—”

  The sound of truck tires crunching on my gravel driveway interrupted Thea, forcing us both off the couch. She grabbed Camila from where she was playing on a blanket with some toys on the floor, positioning her on a hip with a kiss to her cheek. Then we all went outside to see Kaine backing his truck up to the door.

  “I’m so excited for this,” I told Thea.

  “From everything you’ve told me about this table, so am I.”

  I swallowed down another rush of nausea, refusing to let a stomach bug ruin this moment. Logan got out first, followed by Kaine. He shot me a quick grin before hopping up into the truck bed.

  The motion of his long legs swinging into the truck, his muscled ass on display as he bent to undo a ratchet strap, chased away the sick feeling in my stomach.

  My god, he is handsome. That thought crossed my mind daily. A wave of heat rushed down my spine.

  Sex had become a key component in my evening routine with Kaine over the last month. We didn’t have sleepovers, but Kaine left my bed later and later each night. The evenings we spent at the cabin, he’d walk me back to the camper after naked time under his sheets. I’d long since broken my rule about sex in his bed.

  Why did I need boundaries when I’d already crossed them all?

  Kaine had me whenever and wherever he wanted, and the pleasure was definitely shared. My heart, well . . . it was too late to add safeguards now. The man standing in the back of his truck had stolen it already.

  I glanced over at Thea. She was drooling over her husband like I’d been with Kaine.

  “If you keep looking at him like that, you’re going to get another baby,” I teased.

  She laughed. “Oh no, we’re done. Three is all I can handle.” Her smile fell and she gave me a sideways glance before it moved to Kaine. She leaned in closer to talk under her breath. “Um, I was going to ask inside. But about the nausea. You couldn’t be pregnant, could you?”

  “Oh, uh . . . no.” My heart sank. “No. I-I can’t have kids.” Not without major medical intervention.

  “Oh.” Her face paled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to ask if—”

  “It’s okay.” I waved her off. “I don’t talk about it much. One of these days I’ll come down to the bar while it’s quiet and we can talk about it.” Now that I’d confided my issues to Kaine, I didn’t feel so protective about my secrets.

  She smiled. “I’d like that. I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just that when I was pregnant with all three kids, I’d get these waves of nausea that would make my skin gray like yours was on the couch. Then every night by dinner, I was starving. Still, I shouldn’t have intruded. I’m so sorry.”

  “Really.” I squeezed her arm. “It’s fine. You didn’t know.”

  Our whispered conversation was stopped short when Logan positioned himself at one end of the table. With Kaine at the other, the pair carefully unloaded my table, bringing it through the door.

  When it was situated in the center of the dining area, Kaine whipped off the canvas tarp. All of us converged around the table, even the kids, admiring its beauty.

  “Whoa,” Thea whispered, stealing Charlie’s word from earlier.

  Logan came to her side, throwing an arm over her shoulder. “You should see some of the pieces in Kaine’s shop. When we were loading up the truck, I made a mental list of things I’m going to have him build for the house.”

  Thea smiled. “Charge him double, Kaine. He can afford it.”

  Kaine’s eyes just dropped back to the table.

  As expected with new acquaintances—one of whom was the misanthrope Kaine Reynolds—things had been slightly awkward today. Though I’d talked about Logan and Thea constantly to Kaine, and vice versa, everyone was still feeling each other out.

  Kaine was his quiet self, as I’d anticipated. His charm wasn’t as forthcoming as Logan’s, who’d spent years working ballrooms to raise funds from the rich. Kaine captured your heart more slowly, like a moss that took months to claim the bark of a forest tree. In time, he’d win over the Kendricks, and they’d learn he was the strong, silent type.

  Awkwardness aside, I was calling today a win. Despite the forced conversation, everyone was in a cheerful mood and Kaine hadn’t run away to hide in the cabin until the company was gone.

  Was it strange that in all the time we’d spent together, he was just meeting my friends? Considering how rarely he left the mountain, I guess it wasn’t that odd. Neither of us cared to go into town much for dinner, not when I enjoyed cooking.

  Did he have any friends still in Bozeman where he’d grown up? Because he didn’t have a single one here in Lark Cove besides me. Was it just his nature to keep to himself? Or had his past driven him to isolation?

  Another wave of nausea hit, and I gripped the edge of the table, willing the chips I’d eaten to stay in my stomach.

  “You okay?” Kaine asked, coming to my side.

  “Fine,” I lied. “Just so happy to have this table. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Are you going to let me pay for it?” Every time I’d asked over the last month, he’d pretend like I hadn’t asked him the question. Kaine’s method of saying no was apparently to not answer at all.

  And per usual, he ignored my question, left my side and went over to shake Logan’s hand. “Thanks for your help with this.”

  Logan grinned. “Anytime.”

  “Nice to meet you, Thea.”

  “You too.” She nodded, bouncing Camila on her hip. The baby tried to shove her fingers in Thea’s mouth. “Stop that.” Thea laughed, jerking her chin away. It just made Camila giggle, a sound so precious it melted your heart.r />
  I looked around the table, seeing Logan smiling at his daughter. Charlie and Collin were laughing too.

  When I got to Kaine, I expected to see that soft smile I got after making him a special pie, but instead, he was glaring at his boots. His hands were fisted at his sides like he had bamboo shards shoved under his fingernails.

  “Kaine?”

  He looked up, his face suddenly cold and impassive. “I need to do a couple things in the shop today.”

  “Oh, okay.” I thought he’d planned to spend the day helping me get furniture in place and boxes unpacked. “We’re all going down to the bar for pizza later. Want to come?”

  He shook his head, already heading for the door. He held up one arm in a wave, then crossed the living room like his boots were on fire. It didn’t take long for his truck to rumble to a start and pull away from the house to go down the mountain road on my side, only to come back up again on his.

  Luckily, his strange behavior went unnoticed by the Kendrick family, who were all still enraptured by the youngest member.

  What was Kaine’s problem? Were things more uncomfortable for him than I’d guessed? Did he not like children? As I thought back to the introductions earlier, he’d seemed fine around Charlie and Collin. But I didn’t remember him even looking in Camila’s direction.

  Did he not like babies? It wasn’t unreasonable for some men to be wary of babies. My brother wasn’t particularly fond of them, something both my mom and I figured would change once Owen had his own.

  Maybe Kaine had the same apprehension when it came to little ones.

  My stomach did another round of acrobatics, so I retreated to the kitchen for a glass of the ginger ale I’d bought earlier, hoping it would settle things down.

  As I sipped my soda, Thea came to the kitchen. “If you’re not up for pizza, we can reschedule.”

  “No! I’ll be fine.” I smiled wider. “It always passes. And the ginger ale helps.”

  “Good. That always helped me too,” she said, looking toward her children.

  My eyes followed her to where Logan was helping Collin build a tunnel out of the empty boxes.

  There was no way I could be pregnant. Right? I hadn’t had my period lately, but that was normal for me. It wasn’t uncommon for me to go four or five months without a cycle. On top of that, my cervical mucus was abnormal. It basically murdered sperm that dared get close enough.

  No, there was no chance I was pregnant. The test results were definitive.

  The day our fertility specialist had called to deliver the results, I’d been so nervous, I’d made Adam take the call. He’d listened intently, nodding along as the doctor spoke, and after he’d hung up, he’d told me everything.

  Then he’d held me as I’d fallen apart on our living room couch.

  So even though Kaine and I barely kept our hands off one another, there was no way I could be pregnant, not without a doctor to implant a fertilized egg into my uterus.

  Kaine was no doctor.

  I was definitely not pregnant.

  “You are pregnant, Ms. Campbell. Your blood tests confirm it.”

  It was the third time the doctor had said those three words. You are pregnant.

  “I don’t understand.” My mouth was flapping open. “Are you sure that’s my blood sample you’re looking at?” I peered around the doctor’s shoulder, pointing to the file in her hand as I double-checked the name.

  She just laughed, showing me that it was in fact my name at the top. “I’m sure.”

  My hands dove into my hair. “I cannot believe this.”

  “Congratulations.” She smiled as I sat stunned on the exam table. “If your nausea continues, keep up with the ginger ale. Saltine crackers help some women. And if it persists or gets unmanageable, your OB can prescribe something stronger.”

  I managed a nod as she congratulated me again and left the room.

  Pregnant.

  Thea had been right after all.

  In the past three days, my nausea had gotten worse, so much so that I couldn’t concentrate on work this morning. Not wanting to give the Kendrick kids a stomach bug, I’d made a trip up to Kalispell to hit an urgent care and get checked out.

  And after sitting in the doctor’s office for three hours, answering questions and having tests done, it was official.

  I was pregnant.

  Me. The Infertile One.

  It took me almost thirty minutes to come unstuck from my exam room. A nurse came in three times to check on me—and kick me out—but I just stayed on the table, staring at the gray walls in disbelief. Finally, after the nurse’s fourth visit, I collected my purse and walked through the clinic in a daze.

  I passed the doctor again and she gave me another congratulations. I nodded my good-bye, then went out to my car where I sat for twenty minutes, my hands frozen on the steering wheel.

  Pregnant. I was pregnant.

  With a baby.

  I was having a baby.

  This was a dream, right? Or was it a nightmare? Would I wake up, only to find myself alone in bed and the one thing I’d always wanted taken away from me again?

  My hand drifted to my belly, and a tear dripped down my cheek. I felt both. This was no nightmare. This was the dream. This was real-life magic.

  How many hours had I wished for this? How many times had I prayed for a miracle?

  A smile cracked my frozen face and another tear fell.

  “I’m having a baby.” The words filled the car and my heart with so much joy, I collapsed against the steering wheel, laughing and crying.

  When I pulled myself together, I sat up and flipped down my visor’s mirror. My mascara was glommed on my wet eyelashes. The blush I’d carefully applied to my cheeks was streaked with tear trails. My face still held a tinge of green from the nausea.

  Who the hell cared what I looked like, because I was pregnant.

  “Oh my god.” I giggled. “Yes!”

  I felt like hopping out of the car to do a jumping heel click. Instead I sat there, blissfully wiping away the tears. But as my face dried, the euphoria dulled.

  Had the doctors in New York gotten my diagnosis wrong? That just couldn’t be. We’d gone to one of the best fertility specialists in Manhattan.

  I’d been sitting right there next to Adam as he’d listened to the latest test results, so it wasn’t like some detail had been lost over time. It wasn’t like he’d had hours to confuse or forget important aspects of the report.

  Sure, I hadn’t seen the results in person, but neither had he. The doctor was booked solid, so we’d opted for the results over a phone call instead of waiting a week for an appointment window to open up.

  The clinic hadn’t minded giving us our results over the phone, because in their world, diagnosis was just the beginning. Our doctor had been determined to give us a child.

  When we first met with the specialist, she decided the first course of action was to correct my missing cycles. She gave me a hormone shot in the ass, handed over a box of ovulation sticks and prescribed lots and lots of sex.

  She also told me to do whatever it took to reduce my stress levels, so I got weekly massages and cut back at work. I eliminated wine and chocolate and everything delicious.

  Three months, countless shots and no pregnancy later, the doctor ordered another set of tests.

  The results from those tests were the ones Adam had taken over the phone. And something had to have gotten lost in translation.

  I dove into my purse, rifling around for my phone at the bottom. After looking up the fertility clinic’s number, I waited through a few minutes of transfers until I finally reached the nurse who’d been on our case.

  “Hey, Patrick.” I smiled as he answered. “This is Piper Campbell. Formerly, Piper Hall. Do you remember me?”

  “Piper. Of course, how could I forget those dimples. So good to hear from you.” His warm voice had always soothed my nerves when I was bare-assed, waiting for the needle pokes. “Though it’s about th
ree years later than I’d expected.”

  “Yeah.” I sighed. “Adam and I got divorced so we didn’t really need that consultation for in vitro.”

  He hummed. “I’m sorry to hear that. Unfortunately, that happens with some of our clients. People always say time is the true test of marriage. I say it’s infertility. What can I do for you today?”

  “Um . . .” I took a deep breath, not really even sure how to say this out loud. “I’m pregnant.”

  “You’re pregnant! All right!” He clapped, the noise echoing into the phone. “Congratulations! You’ll be one heck of a mama.”

  “Thank you. So much. But the reason I’m calling is, well . . . because I’m pregnant. Based on the last tests you guys ran for us, I was under the impression that I’d never be able to conceive without some help. I’m shocked, to say the least, and I guess curious how it could have happened.”

  “Hmm. That doesn’t seem right off the cuff. But let me go back and check your file. Give me a second.” A keyboard clicked in the background as he typed.

  My fingers ran up and over the steering wheel as I waited. After they’d made about five loops, he came back onto the phone.

  “Okay. So let me just refresh myself here. We started with some basic hormone injections to get your ovulation back on track. And when those didn’t result in a pregnancy, we tested both you and your husband for abnormalities. I’m seeing here that your vaginal pH was slightly acidic, but nothing that couldn’t be corrected. But we recommended IVF because of your husband’s poor sperm quality. The doctor made a note that your chances of natural conception would be less than ten percent.”

  The phone fell out of my hand and landed on my lap, and I scrambled to pick it back up. “Patrick, I think I must have heard you wrong. I thought I was the one with the abnormalities, not Adam.”

  “No,” he said gently. “You both had challenges. Without intervention to match sperm and egg, you likely wouldn’t have conceived. He has a low sperm count and limited motility. The doctor said that there was a high chance the quality was too poor for in vitro. Our recommendation for the best chance at fertilization was to explore external donors.”