“You went a little overboard,” I say as I survey the empty boxes and the pile of new clothes and toys.
“I’m making up for all the missed time. And I want to reassure you that I have no intention of trying to take Kody away from you—I just don’t want to miss out on any more of his life than I already have. Does that make sense?”
“It does. And I don’t want you to think I don’t want you in our lives. I’ve just spent all this time doing it on my own. He’s just been mine, so the thought of having to share him is scary.”
“I get it, but won’t it be a lot easier if we’re in this together instead of you on your own?” he asks softly.
“Is that what you want? For us to be in this together?”
RJ swallows thickly. “I had sort of hoped we could see if we still fit. I know I have to work to earn back your trust, Lainey. I get that I messed this up—and that’s on me—but I’ll be honest: it gutted me when I realized I had no way to contact you and I’d left you with no way to find me either. I wanted so badly to seek you out, but I figured your not answering the phone and not leaving a note was clearly telling me you weren’t interested in an ‘us’ outside of Alaska. I should’ve tried to find you, but I didn’t think I could handle hearing that kind of truth. I wish I could go back and do things differently.”
I clasp my hands in my lap, trying to keep myself from wringing them out of nervousness. I fell so hard and fast for him last time, and the aftermath was more painful than I ever could have imagined, but it can’t be by chance that we’ve found our way back to each other. I owe it to myself and to Kody to see if we still feel the same way. “I think, for Kody’s sake, it’s worth trying.” I still need to be careful with my heart, though.
“Really?”
“We worked well together before, but everything was so different, so we’ll have to see. One day at a time and all that, right?”
RJ nods. “I can handle one day at a time.”
I don’t mention my fears: that this reality is too different from the one we lived in a year ago. This one has responsibilities and obligations that Alaska didn’t. And all the attention RJ seems to thrive on terrifies me. But for Kody I’ll try—and, selfishly, for me, because the other option is shared custody, and I don’t want to give up 50 percent of my time with my son.
“Um, I don’t know how to broach this without it being awkward, but I spoke to the team doctor about a formal DNA test. It’s pretty obvious that Kody is mine, but I figured we’ll need it moving forward, and it’ll avoid a lot of red tape—so whenever you have time, he can make a house call.”
Kody starts fussing, as if he can suddenly sense my anxiety. Without my having to say a word, RJ carefully transfers him to my arms. I shush him, patting his bottom as he cuddles into my neck and snuffles quietly. “Any day is fine with me. I have tomorrow off, but I’m not sure if that’s too short notice or not.”
“We can make it work. I have practice in the morning, but after that I’m free. You could come, if you want—both of you. I could have a car pick you up?”
“I have a car.”
“You got your license.” He smiles—it’s a statement, not a question.
At some point I should tell RJ the truth: that I knew how to drive in Alaska but I just never got my license. It was one of the first things I did when I returned to Washington, wanting that piece of independence. “I did, and I drove all the way here from Washington.”
RJ’s eyes bug out. “That’s one hell of a drive.”
“You should try it when you’re seven months pregnant. It probably took twice as long with all the bathroom stops.”
“What made you come all the way to Chicago?” RJ props his cheek on his fist.
I shrug and look away. “There was a job opportunity, and I took it.” I press my lips to Kody’s forehead. He’s finally asleep. “I’m going to put him in his crib.”
“Okay. Sure. Can I help?”
“Of course.”
I teach RJ in whispers how to put Kody to bed. It’s not particularly difficult, but we have a routine we follow. Once he’s settled in his crib and sleeping soundly, RJ and I head back to the living room.
I pull out two photo albums, the first chronicling my pregnancy—including the ultrasound pictures, my progress from tiny bump to full-on baby belly, the drive from Washington to Chicago, setting up his nursery in this apartment, and the trip to the hospital with Eden.
One of RJ’s arms is stretched out across the back of the couch, the album open between us. He’s shifted until our thighs are touching. I’m hyperaware of our proximity, of every place where our bodies touch, of the way he keeps fiddling with the end of my braid. The closeness is easy—but not, because it reminds me of those weeks when we were together and of the way we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.
“Eden was with you for the birth?” RJ asks, pulling me out of my head and my spiral of inappropriate thoughts.
“She was. She’s been a good friend.”
“I’m glad you have her. I’d hate to think of you completely alone out here. I can’t imagine your parents were all that happy that you moved across the country.”
“They’re the reason I’m here.”
“Can I ask what happened?” RJ shifts so he’s facing me.
I focus on the picture in front of me, the last one I took before my entire life changed all over again. “My parents were happy to have me home when I returned from Alaska, but I was . . . not as happy to be there. I missed Kodiak Island—I missed you—and you were just . . . gone. It didn’t take long before my mother started with the whole overprotective routine. It got old fast, and things went downhill quickly when I realized I was pregnant. I tried to find a way to reach you, but when I’d exhausted all my options . . . well, it all seemed pretty hopeless.”
“I’m so sorry, Lainey.”
“Me too.” I reach for my glass of wine and take an unsteady sip. “I actually moved in with my oldest sister and her family for a little while because of the tension with my parents. I needed space, and I couldn’t get any. I finished my master’s thesis, and then Eden suggested I come out for a visit. I took a plane that time because I wasn’t too far along to fly. I fell in love with the aquarium and the independence. I didn’t want to go back to Washington, but at the time I didn’t have a choice. Until the position came available at the aquarium.”
“So you took it and drove out here on your own.”
“Eden flew out, and we drove back together. My parents weren’t happy, obviously, but I needed the space and the ability to prove not just to them but to myself that I could do this.”
“You know you’re amazing, right? After everything you’ve been through—and then handling a pregnancy on your own, coming here, raising a baby alone.”
“I’ve had lots of support. And my job is fantastic. I have flexible hours. It’s right across the street. I can even do research at home when I need to. The medical and other benefits are excellent. As far as moves go, this one has been great—for me, at least.”
“Have your parents at least met Kody?”
“Oh yes. They came out to visit as soon as he was born. Tried to convince me to come home, but I was settled and determined, so I stayed.” I flip the first album closed and open the second one, setting it between us. The first picture is the birth announcement.
“Kodiak RJ Carver,” RJ murmurs, tracing the edge of the photo. “Kody. I can’t believe I didn’t put it together.”
I look up at him, a little embarrassed but more nostalgic than anything. “We made a lot of special memories there. Well, they were special for me.”
“It was the same for me, Lainey.” His eyes are soft, his tone earnest. “I want to make more of those with you. With both of you.”
CHAPTER 21
THE FALL BACK IN
Lainey
RJ left an hour ago—he kissed me on the cheek, which was very respectable and sweet. I’m disappointed, and then again I’m not, b
ecause I don’t think I’m ready to explore the chemistry that’s still very much present between us yet, and maybe he could sense that.
I’m about to give Kody his midnight feeding when my phone rings. I check the caller and see that it’s my mother. “Mom, why are you calling me at midnight?”
“Because I just got off the phone with Walter, and he informed me that a male visitor just left your apartment, that’s why I’m calling. Lainey Patricia Carver, you have a four-month-old baby—you can’t be entertaining men at midnight!” she shrieks in my ear. “I don’t know what in the devil has gotten into you, but Walter is absolutely devastated. Devastated. I raised you better than this. You are not some kind of hussy who spreads your legs for a man just because he’s attractive. Have you learned nothing from your mistakes?”
I grit my teeth, annoyed that Walter had the audacity to tell my mother about RJ. “First of all, Walter has no business calling you to tattle on me—”
“He didn’t call me. I called him because you hadn’t returned my call from over six hours ago. Six hours, Lainey! I’m a wreck over here!”
I take a deep breath and try to find some calm. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you right back. I was busy—”
“Being a floozy!” she shouts.
“First of all, you have no idea what was going on here. You’re making false assumptions, and the name-calling is unnecessary. I have not ever been, nor will I ever tolerate being called, a floozy—especially by my own mother. Secondly, I will not allow you to make me feel bad for allegedly engaging in a healthy physical relationship with someone I cared very deeply for.”
She scoffs. “He left you there—”
“Don’t,” I snap. “Don’t try to spin it in a way that makes it seem less than it was. We cared about each other, and unforeseen circumstances separated us. And while I agree that my falling pregnant was not ideal, I do not regret a moment of the time I spent with RJ or that I now have Kody.” The only thing I regretted was waiting until it was too late to tell him how I felt about him.
“That doesn’t explain why you’re tromping all over poor Walter’s feelings.”
My parents met Walter when they came out to meet Kody after he was born, and my mother instantly took a liking to him—so when I told her we’d become friends she was ecstatic, and she was even happier when I told her we’d gone on a date. Now I wish I’d kept that information to myself. “If you’d stop interrupting, I’d be able to explain that by some great karmic chance, RJ and I have reconnected. He lives here in Chicago, and he was here tonight, not some random male visitor I was flaunting in a bid to hurt poor Walter. And while I feel badly about the situation—and Walter—under the circumstances, I think it’s quite reasonable that RJ and I at least attempt to see if we can make this work between us, for the good of our child.”
“But I thought you said he was an alpaca farmer in New York—how can he live in Chicago?”
I cringe, because this is the part that’s not so easy to explain and the most difficult to get over. “His family owned an alpaca farm in New York but have since sold it. RJ plays professional hockey, here, in Chicago.”
“Professional meaning what?”
“He plays for the NHL.”
I get several long seconds of silence. “Doesn’t that mean he has to travel a lot? How can he provide any kind of emotional stability for you? For Kody? I don’t like this. Not one bit, Lainey.”
And this, right here, is the exact reason I’m in Chicago instead of Washington. I may have asked myself the same questions, but I don’t need my mother making this harder for me. “You can not like it all you want, but this is my life, not yours—and I get to make my own choices, whether you approve or not. It’s late—I’m tired. I have to feed Kody, and then I’d like to go to bed.”
“Lainey, please. I’m your mother. I know what’s good for you.”
“I love you, Mom, I really do, but you know what’s good for you, and that’s not necessarily what’s good for me. I’m going to try with RJ, for Kody’s sake and my own. You can support me or not, but either way, this is the choice I’m making.”
“Well, I think it’s another mistake.”
“You’re welcome to that opinion. I still love you, whether you choose to support my decision or not. Good night, Mom.” I end the call, expecting anxiety to take over. But it doesn’t. Instead I feel good about standing up for myself, even though it wasn’t easy.
Over the next couple of weeks, RJ—I can’t get in the habit of calling him Rook no matter how hard I try, which isn’t all that hard, to be quite honest—infuses himself into my and Kody’s lives. After the team doctor confirmed what we already knew to be the truth—RJ is Kody’s father—we’ve been spending as much time as possible together.
I now have a housekeeper who comes by not once but twice a week to tidy the apartment. A layer of dust doesn’t even have a chance to form before she’s back again. She also does all the laundry, and I’ll be honest—baby laundry is a giant pain in the butt. Baby clothes are adorable. And tiny. And babies go through clothes like they’re modeling for a runway fashion show. Except they’re often covered in spit-up—or, now that we’ve begun trying solids, explosive bowel movements. It’s the opposite of glamorous, and I’m pretty okay with not having to scrub out stains.
RJ has taken to coming to my place most nights of the week, unless he has early practice or he has to meet up with his teammates for evening meetings—which sometimes take place at the pub. He invites me to tag along or come to his practices, but I’m still trying to get used to him before I get used to all the other craziness that comes with his life and my being in it. The idea of sitting in an arena with all those people is enough to make my heart race and my palms sweat. I’m just not ready for that yet.
It’s bath night for Kody, which is his favorite. He loves splashing in the water and playing with his toys, so it’s kind of a production, but I don’t mind because he always sleeps so well afterward.
RJ picks him up from the play mat on the floor and gives him a raspberry on the tummy, which elicits a shriek and a giggle out of Kody. “Come on, little man, it’s bath time! You want to smell good for Stella at day care tomorrow. I saw you trying to steal her soother today, and I gotta tell you, that’s not the best way to make a good impression. If you don’t watch it, that little punk Hunter is going to move in on your territory. I saw him sharing his giraffe teether with her the other day. Now that’s how you get the girl.” Kody coos at his father, enthralled by everything he says like he’s actually mentally taking notes from him. RJ winks at me, and I follow him down the hall, shaking my head with a smile.
I’ve already set up the baby bath and all of Kody’s toys. While RJ undresses him, I put lavender-scented bubbles and warm water in his tub. I turn to see how RJ is managing and smile even wider as he leans down and gives him another raspberry, then removes his diaper and gives him a tickle.
I’m about to warn RJ that naked tickles aren’t the best idea—at least not where Kody is concerned—but I’m too late. Kody giggles loudly, which also prompts him to pee, and RJ is right in the line of fire.
“Oh shit!” RJ tries to use his hand as a shield, but Kody kicks his legs, which has a loose fire hose effect. RJ looks down at his now-wet shirt and hands. “Not cool, little man, not cool.”
I clap a palm over my mouth to muffle my laugh and nudge RJ out of the way so I can get to Kody. “Did you pee all over Daddy? You got him real good, didn’t you? Yes, you did! Daddy needs a bath too, just like you!” Kody babbles and smiles as I set him in the tub, immediately slapping at the bubbles and sending a spray of water my way. At least it’s just soapy water and not pee.
At the sound of metal hitting metal, I glance over my shoulder—and suck in a breath when I catch RJ unbuckling his belt. I lift my gaze, eyes raking over six-pack abs, defined pecs, and heavy shoulders. I can’t seem to command myself to look away as he unbuttons his jeans and drags the zipper down.
In th
e weeks since he’s come back into my life, I’ve been hesitant to fully acknowledge the chemistry between us, to give it room to breathe, because once I do there’s no going back. But I can’t ignore the way my body heats up at the sight of him undressing in Kody’s bathroom.
“What’re you doing?” My voice is high, almost panicked.
He gives me a saucy grin. “You said I need a bath too.”
“But—”
He shoves his jeans down his thighs, and I look away, focusing on Kody in the bath and not how almost naked RJ is, or how close to me he is, or how long it’s been since I’ve had sex . . . the last time being the night—or rather morning—I conceived Kody.
RJ removes the showerhead and lets it hang, then steps over the edge of the tub and lowers himself in, one muscular leg on either side of Kody’s baby bathtub. The tub itself has less than three inches of sudsy water in it, and I’m both relieved and disappointed that RJ is still wearing boxer briefs.
I pass RJ a cloth and the baby wash. “Might as well do the honors, huh, Daddy?”
His grin grows wider as I stare in blatant appreciation at his mostly naked body taking up the vast majority of the tub. “If I wash Kody, does that mean you wash me?”
“I think you can take care of yourself just fine.” I have my doubts I’ll be able to keep things safely platonic if I help RJ out. I use the edge of the tub to pull myself up.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ll be right back.”
I nab his pee-covered T-shirt and Kody’s dirty clothes and throw them in the wash. On the way back to the bathroom, I grab my phone from the living room and pad quietly down the hall. RJ is busy splashing around in the shallow water, making Kody smile and giggle, so I quickly take a bunch of pictures, thinking that these would all be perfect with the caption ovaries exploding.
I watch the muscles in his back flex as he zooms one of the bath toys around over Kody’s head. In the year since we’ve been together, he seems like he’s in even better shape, if that’s possible. My body has changed too—and it’s definitely not more defined or toned. I don’t want him to look at me differently, see me differently, although I’m aware he probably already does. I’m the mother of his child. We have a baby together. It changes everything. Which is part of the reason I’m holding on so hard to the things I know.
A Lie for a Lie Page 18