MAYBE BABY

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MAYBE BABY Page 41

by ANDREA SMITH


  Gina and I vegged out the rest of the weekend, packing up things here and there. She did a great job of keeping visitors away as well. Mark had stopped by a couple

  of times and Gina had lied, telling him I was asleep. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I just wanted to leave and start my new life without reminders of my old one. I knew that I had to say good-bye to Derringer; I just wasn’t sure that I could. Even thinking about it made tears spill.

  My pregnancy hormones must’ve kicked in heavy duty. Certain things made me cry at the drop of the hat, yet other things, like parting with Trey’s gift for something practical hadn’t bothered me at all. Gina said that she thought it had something to do with the ‘nesting instinct’ she had read about with being pregnant. It made sense I guess.

  By Monday morning, everything I had was packed up and ready to go. I was leaving earlier than Gina, but I needed to be on my way. If I stayed much longer, I was afraid people would start connecting the dots.

  Gina had planned on staying a couple of days with her Aunt Becky. We programmed my destination in to the GPS that came on my Santa Fe. My cell phone was programmed into the Blue Tooth so that I could have hands-free conversations. I was going to drop Gina at Becky’s house on my way out of town. She was going to give Becky the key to my cottage, along with my new address for mailing of my W-2’s.

  The SUV was loaded up, cottage locked up, we were ready. As we pulled out of the long, winding driveway and onto the two lane highway, we had only gone a few hundred feet when we passed Trey in his Lamborghini. He was alone. I was glad. He of course didn’t recognize me in this dark forest green SUV. I saw his face for maybe the last time, who knows. The pregnancy hormones did their job, as tears spilled down both cheeks.

  “Gina,” I sobbed, tears blurring my vision, “Take the wheel for a minute.”

  She immediately undid her seat belt, leaning over and taking the steering wheel, while I fought to control the tears. We were at her Aunt Becky’s within two minutes, she steered the vehicle safely in the drive.

  Once the vehicle was stopped, Gina put the gearshift in ‘park’ and shut off the engine.

  “For the love of God, Tylar, are you sure you don’t want to tell Trey the truth about all of this?”

  “Gina,” I sobbed, the flow of tears not wanting to ebb, "I would love nothing more than to tell Trey about this if I didn’t already know how he feels about ‘happily ever after’ and commitments, which he equated to a ‘hangman’s noose’ as I recall. Trey believes that people are dynamic and the best that they can expect is what is in the present.”

  “That’s rubbish and you know it. Spoken like a guy who’s had his heart broken. We’ve all been there, Tylar. How cynical do you plan on getting with your own heartbreak? Are you going to give up on ‘happily ever after’? I guess that is what it really boils down to, right? I respect your decision to not tell Trey, but please don’t sell him short. I still believe that the guy - in his own fucked up way - loves you, Ty. Think about it, okay?”

  I nodded, reaching over and hugging her. A fresh batch of tears started rolling down my cheeks. It was now time to say good-bye to my very best friend.

  “Stop it,” Gina ordered. “You and me, we’re fine girlfriend. You call me once you get to your motel tonight. You get some furniture in that place first off, okay? And do not worry, I will find a way to get up there to see you before too long. After all, I want the honor of decorating my grandchild’s nursery.”

  “That would be great.”

  “So, you okay to drive now?” I nodded my head affirmatively.

  “Alright, I will expect a call from you this evening then?”

  “Yep, I’ll be calling,” I promised.

  She hugged me again, and got out of the car.

  "Drive safely," she yelled as I backed out of her driveway and headed down the highway.

  The female voice on the GPS kept me company on the long way back home. I actually made fairly good time, stopping only once to gas up and get something to eat. I programmed in some pretty good stations, and listened to the music. Some of the songs reminded me of Trey, of course, but I didn’t let the tears flow. I couldn’t afford to while I was driving with my precious cargo. I let my hand rest against my abdomen again. I wondered how far along it was when the baby’s movements could be felt. I was anxious for that to happen so it would make everything more real. I would feel less lonely.

  I busied myself with thoughts on the long drive home. I thought about the essential furniture I would need for the house just to be able to live there. The list was long: stove, refrigerator, microwave, bed, dresser, television, washer, dryer, dishes, cookware, table and chairs, couch, lamps, tables and linens. I was thankful that my mother had least left the window treatments there.

  I knew I wanted to paint her old bedroom and mine. I didn’t want my baby sleeping in her den of iniquity that was for sure. I thought about how much fun it would be to decorate the nursery. Of course, Gina had called dibs on that, but I’m sure she would want my input.

  I had made reservations at a motel not far from the house. I pulled into the motel parking lot in Radcliff at around 5:00 p.m. I got my room, key, grabbed my suitcase from the back of the SUV and went to my room. I called Gina first thing to let her know that I had arrived safely. I promised to call in the next couple of days to let her know how I was doing with settling in.

  I grabbed something to eat from the McDonald’s that was next door, taking it back to my motel room to eat.

  I turned the television on, eating on my bed in front of it. I was starved so everything tasted good.

  When I was finished, I got clean underwear and a nightgown out. I went in and showered. I was ready to get under the sheets of the bed. I left the television on just for the noise. I fell asleep almost immediately the clock reading a little after seven.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  The next day I was up bright and early, heading to my home. That had a nice ring to it, ‘my home.’ I knew that I had a lot to do in just one day to at least get it to the point where I could spend the night in it. I didn’t want to burn any more money up in living in a motel room that was for sure.

  I pulled my new SUV into the driveway, and pressed the button to open the back door. It sprang open. I grabbed my suitcase and backpack and headed up to the porch. There was another pile of mail stuffed into the mailbox, I unlocked the front door, tossed my stuff inside, and emptied the mailbox, taking it inside with me. I went back and forth to the SUV until I had everything unloaded and set inside the house.

  I prioritized the things that I needed to accomplish in order to start staying there. I knew several second hand stores. I would start there first. I had to make my money stretch as far as possible.

  ‘Second Time Around’ was a thrift store that had been operating in Radcliff for as long as I could remember. I headed to the store, with a written list in my purse of what I felt could minimally sustain me at the house for tonight, and then for a few weeks. I wanted it to be a stepped priority list. I hit it big at Second Time Around; I found a bed frame, a new mattress and box spring, a microwave, refrigerator, and a fairly new oversized love seat. The whole bill was $650. Not too bad. I left there and drove to Bed, Bath and Beyond. I got towels both for the bath and the kitchen, rugs for the bathroom, sheets, blankets, pillows and stuff for the shower. Total bill: $257.

  My stuff from Second Time Around was to be delivered by 4:30 p.m. that afternoon. I squeezed one more stop in at Wal-Mart. I purchased cleaning supplies, trash cans, light bulbs, a vacuum cleaner, small flat screen television with a stand, a clock radio and a couple of lamps.

  By the time I got home, the truck from Second Time Around was waiting at the curb. It didn’t take long for the guys to get my stuff in the house. They put my bed frame together for me, putting the box spring and mattress on it. They plugged my refrigerator in and made sure it was cooling before they left. I gave them each a generous tip for their help.

  I bu
sied myself the rest of the afternoon and evening cleaning cupboards, shelves, washing walls, scouring sinks, toilet and tub. I mopped the kitchen and bathroom floors, hung my new towels on the racks and placed my fluffy new rugs in the bathroom. I hung the new shower curtain and liner. The bathroom was finished.

  I made my bed up with the new sheets and blankets. That room was done as far as it could be for now. I had taken my old bedroom. There was no way I could have slept in my mom’s old bedroom. I was going to have it thoroughly sanitized, painted and re-carpeted.

  I checked the time on the clock radio I had bought for the bedroom. It was plugged in and sitting on the floor. It was after 11 p.m. .

  I was exhausted from the busy day. I felt a sense of accomplishment though. I unpacked my toiletries in the bathroom, got clean clothes from my suitcase, and took a shower. I brushed my teeth, and climbed into my new bed with the crisp new sheets. It felt glorious. I slept soundly.

  The following days were more of the same. I got my checking and savings accounts established, had cable installed, purchased a washer, dryer and dinette set for the kitchen.

  I went to another used furniture store and found a coffee table with two matching end tables that were made out of wood and wrought iron. I also found a really pretty tiffany-style lamp for my bedroom and a dark wood dresser.

  I located a local OB/GYN that was accepting new patients. I scheduled my first appointment with Dr. Hamilton for November 2nd.

  By Friday evening I was exhausted. I nuked a Healthy Choice entrée, made a salad to go with it and poured myself a tall glass of iced tea. I had brought the mail in earlier and sat down on the couch to go through it while I ate my dinner. Up to this point, most of the mail was for my mom who hadn’t bothered putting a change of address in.

  I took a bite of my salad, sorting through the stack I had brought in today. I tossed several envelopes for ‘Occupant’ in the trash can I had moved over next to the coffee table. Then I saw the envelope addressed to me from the law offices of Pierce, Harmon, Richardson & Sinclair. My name and address was hand-scripted on the front. It was Trey’s perfect script once again. My heartbeat quickened.

  I dropped my fork and opened the envelope, pulling a single sheet of paper out. I unfolded it and saw that it was on Trey’s stationery:

  Tylar,

  You can imagine my surprise when Ray contacted me to let me know that you had left Bristol to return to your home in Radcliff. I was disappointed that you felt no need to let me know that you were leaving.

  I was more surprised when Ray told me that Mark Montgomery is still in Bristol, working with a horse that has no rider? What the hell is going on, Tylar?

  Please contact me at your earliest convenience. There are matters to discuss.

  Very truly yours,

  Trey M. Sinclair, Esq.

  My heart did another pitter-pat as I folded the letter and brushed it across my cheek wanting to feel something of Trey in the linen paper. My heart was heavy now. He was right. I fled like a thief in the night. As an employee alone, I owed the Sinclair’s more than that. As someone who still loved Trey with all of my heart, I owed him more than that. His number was still programmed into my cell phone. I was puzzled as to why he wrote a formal letter instead of simply calling my cell and chewing my ass out Trey-style.

  I grabbed my cell phone, hitting the button for my contact list. I scrolled down until I found Trey ;-) on the listing. I highlighted his name and pressed ‘call.’ My stomach was churning now, not knowing what to expect or wondering if he would even answer his phone. He answered on the third ring.

  “Tylar?”

  “Yes, it’s me, Trey. I got your letter today. I’m sorry that I left the way that I did. I owed you an explanation; I just wasn’t sure that I had one.”

  “I don’t understand. Did you and Mark split?”

  Oh God, how would I explain this without lying or making Trey think badly of Mark? I had to play this carefully.

  “Mark and I were never together, Trey. We were just friends. I didn’t even say good-bye to him.”

  “I’m confused, Tylar. You mean you never told Mark about your pregnancy.”

  “That’s right, Trey. I didn’t want to complicate things for him. He has plans for himself. I would never do anything to ruin those plans.”

  (All true statements and answers so far.)

  “Don’t you think that Mark might have felt differently about his plans if he knew?”

  “He might have, but still, I wouldn’t want someone to be with me out of some sense of honor or obligation. People should be together because they love each other, right?”

  “I suppose so,” he said.

  “Well I don’t love Mark; Mark doesn’t love me. It’s as simple as that.”

  “I don’t think it is as simple as that, Tylar. What about the child?”

  “The child will have plenty of love, trust me.”

  “I can’t keep Mark on, you know.”

  “Is that your decision to make, Trey? Aren’t your parents back? Isn’t your father running the stables and estates again?”

  “Well, yes,” he answered. “But . . .”

  “Trey,” I interrupted, “Mark planned on leaving before winter anyway, so why don’t you just let it play out? If you fire him, he’ll know it’s because of me, of what I did. Please don’t make me feel any guiltier than I already do, please?”

  I knew that I was getting to him.

  “I suppose there is no harm. I won’t say anything to my father specifically, but I can’t guarantee he won’t figure things out in the next couple of weeks anyway.”

  “That’s fine, just let it play out on its own.”

  “There is also the matter of Charlie’s trial. There is a pre-trial investigation being conducted. You will need to be here during some of that questioning.”

  “I don’t understand. There is no way that I want to be in the same room with that animal!”

  I could feel the hysteria rising in my throat.

  “Calm down, Tylar,” Trey said gently. “There are loose ends to tie up with respect to the letters he left, the torn silk pajamas.”

  “What are you saying, Trey?”

  “I think we both know that Charlie is the man from your past, your mother’s boyfriend that ripped your pajamas off of you when you were thirteen. I think we also know that he had a hand in faxing that trust withdrawal form from our office here to your mother. He may have conspired with her for a cut of it. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t tell the detectives the whole story.”

  “I told them everything that happened that night. I wasn’t sure that Charlie was connected to the other stuff,” I lied.

  “Well I am sure, Tylar, and I’ve told the detectives as much. There could be further criminal charges pressed against Charlie, but you will need to be here as they review the statements made the days following your attack, in addition to the evidence I provided them that was left in or at your cottage.”

  Holy Moses! I really wished that Trey would have just let it be.

  “When would I have to come back down?”

  “I’m not sure. Someone from the prosecutor’s office will be in touch with you either by phone or mail soon.”

  “How is everything going with you up there, Tylar? Are you feeling well?”

  “Yes, I’ve been really busy getting the house cleaned and furnished. It’s getting there. I’ve got my first appointment with my OB doctor in a couple of weeks.”

  “That’s good,” he said. I could tell he didn’t want to discuss my pregnancy in detail. It made him uncomfortable.

  “How’s Derringer?” I asked.

  “Well aside from missing you, he is well. A bit testy with Mark, I think.”

  “How often do you get back to Bristol?” I asked.

  “Not often. There’s really no need to now.”

  “I got your deed in the mail earlier this week. I will forward it on to your mailing address there.”

&nbs
p; “Thanks,” I replied.

  “Let me know if you need anything, Tylar. Take care.”

  With that the call was over. I finished my Healthy Choice entrée which was now cold, but I couldn’t taste it anyway. Trey’s phone conversation had left me feeling empty and numb.

  My appointment with Dr. Shelley Hamilton went well. I really liked her; she was young, probably mid-thirties. She had an upbeat personality and I felt very comfortable with her.

  I got all of the pamphlets on proper nutrition, my changing body, and diagrams of how the fetus develops during the duration of the pregnancy.

  The doctor went over some of the details about my first trimester which had about a week and a half left. She gave me a prescription for prenatal vitamins; informed me to avoid alcohol, tobacco and take no prescription medications unless prescribed by her.

  Other than that, she said I could enjoy all the same activities as I had prior to my pregnancy including sex with my partner. I blushed for some reason. She saw from my chart that I wasn’t married. Probably nothing she didn’t encounter on a daily basis anyway.

  She told me that my due date was May 5th and she would see me in another month. I paid the bill and scheduled my next appointment.

  When I got home, the mail had arrived. I went inside the house, sorting through it, tossing most of it. There was a letter from the Office of Commonwealth’s Attorney at the Washington County Courthouse in Abingdon, Virginia. I opened the envelope and pulled out the one page letter. I was ordered to report to the county courthouse in Abingdon to meet with police investigators and the C.A. relative to additional pending charges against Charles Roberts currently in custody. I had to be there on Friday, November 9th at 10 a.m.

 

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