The second he put his hand on the multi-pack of fancy digital pregnancy tests, his phone suddenly started vibrating like crazy in his pocket. He fished it out, only to curse under his breath when he saw his mother’s name pop up on the screen. He declined the call and threw four different two-packs of pregnancy tests into the basket and headed toward the checkout where a line had formed at the register of an elderly cashier. He sighed but held on to the basket as if he were carrying the Holy Grail. Didn’t people know there were (potentially) pregnant women with anxiety waiting at home? Or (possible) fathers who were on the verge of puking and/or doing a running jump to heel click in the middle of the streets?
He had made it another pace and a half in the line when his phone vibrated again. “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” he muttered, going ahead and swiping the green bar on his phone and putting on his nicest voice. “Hi Mom,” he started.
“Adrian Flynn Atwood, what is wrong with you?” his mother immediately started in.
“Um, I’m doing great. How are you?”
“Hmmm. You’ve got that tone. The one where you’re trying to sound like everything’s fine when it’s definitely not. What are you up to?” Maggie Beth demanded. Adrian rolled his eyes.
“I solemnly swear that I’m not up to no good,” he countered in his typical sarcastic tone.
“Now that sounds more like you,” his mother continued. “What are you doing?”
Adrian peered down into the bright red Holy Grail basket. Purchasing a bevy of pregnancy tests was probably not the response he should give his mother. “Just grabbing a few things at the store.” Another customer grabbed their receipt from the blue-haired cashier. Two paces closer to the register. “So how are you and Dad?” he gulped.
“Your dad’s busy all the time, but you know he enjoys it,” she sighed. “Here when I thought we could slow down together.”
His heart sank. If he wasn’t off knocking up Madeleine McCollum, (Mentally, the seventeen-year-old version of himself awarded him a fist bump. He bumped it right back. His luck continued to astound.) But he had to refocus. Because of his actions, his parents couldn’t fully enjoy their golden years together. “Mom, I’m...I’m so sorry,” he stammered. “I know that’s my fault.”
“Oh, pish posh, Adrian. I didn’t mean it like that. Your father never would have made it through retirement without working. You know that as well as I do. Besides, he’s home today. Say hello, Richard.”
There was an awkward pause, but he heard his father in the
background with a “Hi, Adrian,” that actually managed to sound pleasant.
Adrian was not sure he could return the favor.
“Tell him I said hello,” he muttered. Adrian hardly wanted this feud to continue with his father, but he wasn’t exactly ready to forgive and forget, either. “So what else is going on with y’all? Everyone good?”
“We were wondering if we could come and visit next weekend. We miss you.”
Adrian couldn’t help the “Ha!” that escaped him. “Are you sure you wouldn’t just be dragging Dad down to Savannah against his will? Kidnapping is still illegal you know. And he would have to spend an entire weekend with Madeleine, too.”
His mother didn’t respond immediately. Adrian felt the tension even 300 miles away. “Adrian this can’t go on forever. It’s been fifteen months since we’ve seen our son in person. We… we can’t take this. And I think your Dad’s really beating himself up over the way you both ended things.”
“Woah, wait—we ended things? I don’t think so. He’s the one that backed me into a corner with no other options.”
The entirety of the line turned to look at him and his basket full of pregnancy tests. His cheeks reddened, and he threw his eyes down to the ugly, gray commercial carpet beneath his feet.
“You didn’t leave him with a lot of options either,” his mother asserted. “Do you know how many questions about you and Madeleine he has to dodge daily?”
“There can’t be that many.”
“But there are. People know, Adrian. But you’re half a state away now in a new city where no one really knows you. You’re not dealing with the gossip and the backlash. Not that it’s anyone’s business, but you know that we have to deal with it, anyway.”
“Want me to update my relationship status on Facebook? Should clear up any misunderstanding,” he muttered in annoyance.
“Adrian, no. Do you know what that would do to your brother?”
“Speaking of Lee,” Adrian rattled off, “did you know that he called Madeleine yesterday?”
Maggie Beth gave off yet another groan. “Dear God...please tell me he didn’t.”
“He did. And I don’t know what all he said or what his original
intentions were, but he upset her. And on the twelfth, for Christ’s sake.”
“Oh no...I wonder what he said,” she murmured.
“I have no idea. I didn’t press her on it. She was withdrawn one minute and fine the next. I think when I left for a job interview yesterday, she must have gotten to thinking about it and...”
It was his turn at the register. He emptied the basket on the counter and put it back while his mother continued the conversation. “You had an interview? How’d it go?” his mother asked in her upbeat chime.
Adrian sighed. “Well, I got the job, but Madeleine told Lee. Who also mentioned the NCA in my contract.”
“Well, it’s so hard to enforce those here. You know that.”
“Land’s sake, mister, one test would tell you if she was pregnant or not,” the blue-haired cashier muttered.
Adrian felt his heart skip a beat as he gave the lady the biggest “what the hell” expression before slapping a hundred-dollar bill on the counter.
“Huh? What was that?” his mother questioned. Without even waiting for his change, Adrian escaped the store before the crazy old bird said anything else. “Nothing, Mom,” he muttered as he power-walked through the automatic doors again.
“Sir, your change!”
“Adrian Flynn...please tell me Maddie’s not pregnant.”
“What?” his father questioned in the background. Adrian winced. There he was yet again, backed into a corner, between a rock and a hard place. “I...I don’t know,” he admitted. “We weren’t always exactly safe, and she just looks at me while we’re making breakfast this morning like she’s scared to death and she says she’s late. And Jesus Christ, as much as I want a kid, I wanted to marry her first. This just isn’t how we wanted to do things.”
Maggie Beth didn’t respond at first. She took a sharply drawn breath and sighed. “Look, you don’t know for sure if she’s pregnant. And even if she is, life doesn’t always go as planned, Adrian. Especially when you’re dumb enough to have unprotected sex! I thought I taught you better than this.”
“Give me the phone,” he heard his father order.
There was an exasperated sigh and shuffling.
“Adrian, have you considered the possibility that she did this on
purpose?”
He shook his head. “And there it is. The truth. You never once intended on smoothing things over with us.”
“It’s all too convenient.. She knew it was over with Lee, she makes a play for you, and you’re so tender-hearted you just can’t, or won’t, see it. And now that she’s got you, she has to trap you.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Adrian, please, I’m not saying this to hurt you, I just want you to think about it. Don’t get yourself tied down to a woman you can’t be sure you’re always going to love. Not yet. Give it time.”
Adrian was dumbfounded, searching for the words. “I...I don’t even know what to say. This wasn’t intentional.”
“No, not on your part, maybe,” his father continued. “You better get back. And Adrian, I want you to text me the minute you know something.”
“Yeah, sure,” he muttered. As he stooped into his car, he started to mull it over. Would Madeleine do that? He told
her how much he loved her every day, he had even made plenty of comments here and there about wanting to get married or having a baby. How could she possibly think for even a second that she would have to “trap” him? His own heart had trapped him years ago.
~*~
Madeleine was thankful when she heard Adrian pulling back into the garage. She counted the seconds until he came back in the kitchen where she was seated in the keeping room, sipping her cold coffee, thinking about how she’d have to cut down severely if she was pregnant. Caffeine headaches would not be her friend.
Adrian wandered into the kitchen, his face uncharacteristically sullen, a CVS bag in his hand. “I wasn’t too sure what to get,” Adrian said, handing the bag to her. “Never bought a pregnancy test before.”
“I’m sorry. I should have thought of that,” she murmured, not liking the vibes she was getting from him. She looked through the bag and laughed.
“Are you going to take it now?” he queried as he plopped down in the chair across from the love seat where she was seated.
Madeleine nodded. “Mornings are always best.”
“Okay.”
She narrowed her eyes at him as she stepped out of the room
and headed for the half bath off her office. Something was up. He had been in a relatively good mood before he left, even if he was nervous. Maybe those nerves had turned into a resentment Madeleine wasn’t sure her heart could take. Didn’t he understand if it scared him, that she had plenty of reason to be even more scared? He hadn’t lost a child. Adrian had no clue what type of pain that was—one that took hold of your entire heart in the form of the purest possible love and then took it right away with the painful stab that only death delivered.
He didn’t understand. And she prayed he never would.
Madeleine followed the directions on the back of the box of one of the digital tests. It would take an entire five minutes before the results would appear. While she stood there in the small bathroom, she thought of the day she told Lee she was pregnant with Thomas. It hadn’t been the way she had wanted to tell him. She had already taken the test and confirmed with the doctor before she told Lee. It took so much restraint not to tell him then and there, but Madeleine decided it would be best to wait until Father’s Day when they would celebrate with Richard. She had the ultrasound picture placed into a silver Tiffany frame, all wrapped up, waiting in her closet cabinets for the day she would tell the entire family.
But she had been miserably sick with Thomas. Every smell and taste made her nauseous. She had lost so much weight she began to look emaciated. Before they even knew she was pregnant, Lee was worried and demanded she sees a doctor. One Saturday, she was cooking breakfast when the smell of sizzling sausage turned her stomach to the point of nausea. She rushed to the bathroom and immediately threw up what little was on her stomach. In the meantime, the sausage had burnt so much the fire alarms wailed, but she couldn’t stop throwing up long enough to solve the problem. Lee had come bounding down the stairs, scared to death. He got the sausage off the eye and turned off the alarm before calling her name in desperation.
“Maddie!”
“In here,” she squeaked in response.
He opened the door, and she immediately begged him to close it. The smell was causing her stomach to flip flop and wrench. He closed the door and crouched down next to her in the small bathroom. “I thought I told you to go to the doctor and find out what was wrong,” he murmured as his hands lovingly felt her forehead and cheeks to see if she had a temperature.
Madeleine hadn’t been able to stifle the smile that came to her
face. “I went.”
“You didn’t tell me that. So what did he say? What’s wrong?”
She stood and promised to be right back, and when she came back downstairs, he was in the kitchen, scraping the sausage-turned-charcoal briquettes off her cast-iron skillet. When he had opened his gift, he finally held the frame containing the grainy, ultrasound picture, tears immediately sprang to his eyes. They had already lost two, but Lee had been so thrilled to be gifted with yet another chance. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, telling her it would happen this time, that he’d do anything, pay anything, to ensure their child would be safe and healthy. Making promises he couldn’t possibly deliver on.
The three high-pitched beeps of the pregnancy test resounded in the tiny bathroom. Madeleine didn’t think she could even look at the screen. Squeezing her eyes tight, she grasped the test and covered the screen before going out back to the kitchen. Adrian was still sitting there, chin balanced on his hands, elbows on his knees as he crouched forward in the chair.
He looked at her in anticipation. “Well? What did it say?”
Madeleine shook her head. “I can’t even bring myself to look at it. Adrian, I...I thought for a moment this morning that I would love to have one, but now? I’m scared to death,” she admitted, her entire body starting to shake.
Adrian stood and took her hand in his. “We’ll look at it together,” he suggested. “On three…One...two...three—”
They looked down at the screen, and Madeleine felt her heart sink while relief flooded her as she stared down at the words “Not Pregnant”.
“Damn,” Adrian sighed, running his hand through his hair and taking a step away.
“Is that a good damn or a bad damn?” she questioned as he paced the kitchen floor.
A wan smile pulled at his lips. “I would have been happy either way.”
Madeleine had to question whether that was true. What had changed between making breakfast and coming back from the store? Now was the best time to suggest a distraction. “Why don’t we get out of here? Let’s go to Tybee and be beach bums.”
“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day."
Chapter Eight
Lee found himself inexplicably bored. He was at an obligatory charity event for the Atlanta Youth Organization, sitting at a large table, surrounded by so-called friends but lonelier than ever. The charity dinner and dance was certainly a worthy cause, and since Atwood Technologies was a platinum sponsor, it was only fitting that he shows up. But Lee had found in the past year that these charity events had been a lot more fun when Madeleine and Adrian were there. His stomach wrenched to admit it, but it was true. Or maybe they had been more fun when he was drunk. Lee wasn’t sure which.
Perhaps he could start declining party invitations because it was too much temptation to drink, but then, people would start wondering why he’d dropped off the face of the planet. His and Madeleine’s divorce had been the subject of many conversations throughout the past year, as quiet as he and his parents had been about the entire situation. For a few months, they’d even been able to keep it completely under wraps. It had been nice not to have to talk about it. Talking about it made it more real, and he was sure it was painfully obvious that he still loved Madeleine.
“Lee!” a voice like nails on a chalkboard called out above the soft din of hushed conversation and live jazz.
Oh dear God. Anyone but her. He turned and faked a smile as Maisy Stewart lumbered in her heels over to his table. She wore a long emerald gown, one shoulder, gold jewelry to accent, a cliche Cosmopolitan in her hand. And was her hair a lighter blonde now? It was painfully obvious—she was trying her best to emulate Madeleine. What Maisy didn’t know was that the difference between her and Madeleine was the same difference between Great Value and Gucci, and it had nothing to do with wealth. She descended and flung her arms around him in a suffocating hug as Lee felt his eyes widen. Everyone at his table looked on in pity.
“Maisy. It’s so…good to see you,” he said, practically choking over the word good. Now he’d have to put up with her for the night, and he couldn’t have a single drop of alcohol to ease the pain of exposure to Maisy Stewart. The only thing good about Maisy’s presence was the smell of her cocktail. Lee thought he could survive the night off that one scent.
“Lee, I’m so glad to see you out and about. I k
now things have been simply terrible,” she began while sliding a chair closer to his.
He had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “I’ve been better.”
Maisy stopped and raised a brow. “Do you know what you need? An old-fashioned trip to Vegas. You know what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”
Lee grinned. He knew where this was going, and he had to play into this. “So, is that what you did after your divorces? A good old-fashioned trip to Vegas?”
“And Ibiza, and Rio,” Maisy laughed with a lean forward. “What can I say? I was broken-hearted.”
Lee scoffed. “Sounds like it,” and took a drink of his sweet tea, served in a lowball. He guessed it might at least look like a whiskey on the rocks. Maisy’s mere presence made him miss alcohol.
“So, how are you holding up?”
Maisy pulled out the big guns. She placed her hand on his thigh beneath the table. “Lee, honey, I know you miss her. And Adrian. It must hurt so much.”
Lee shifted his eyes towards her, mentally vowing he’d punch her if she wasn’t a woman. “I’m doing just fine, Maisy.”
“Of course you are,” she said, her hand drifting up to his crotch. “But if you ever felt the need to be…more than fine, you know I’m here for you.”
“Now Maisy, you ought to know better. That man needs no help finding trouble,” a voice cut through the tension like a knife.
Lee recognized it immediately and grinned. It was the happiest he’d ever been to see her. “Emily!”
Maisy huffed but plastered a smile and turned to speak to Emily, all while keeping her hand firmly planted on his thigh. “Emily, dear…how are you? It’s been so long since we’ve spoken. I hated to hear about you and Adrian.”
Emily narrowed her eyes but kept the same contemptuous smile. “It was a mutual decision. We’re both happy and that’s all that matters.”
“Yes, I hear he’s very happy now,” Maisy smirked. “And good
for him. We all deserve to be happy, don’t we?”
Lee felt his stomach sink as his eyes immediately met Emily’s.
The Devil's Storm Page 5