by Shari Copell
We drove past Tapestries on East Carson Street, soon dropping down into Station Square along the Monongahela River. After he backed into a parking space, he shut off the motor and turned to me.
“Ready?”
“For what? What are we doing tonight?” Pittsburgh’s Station Square was like a small city unto itself, with numerous shops, bars, and nightclubs. We could’ve been going any number of places as dressed up as we were.
His eyes twinkled as he took my hand and pressed it to his lips. “My lovely Chelsea, would you do me the honor of dining with me aboard the Gateway Clipper tonight?”
“No way!” I’d always wanted to take a dinner cruise up the river on the fabled Gateway Clipper, but never had.
“Yes way. I have reservations for the two of us for the Captain’s Dinner Dance. Just you and me and a bottle of wine, under the stars. I can’t think of anything more perfect, can you?”
I felt the ice that imprisoned my heart crack and break away. It then took two steps to the left, toward this wonderful, thoughtful man who’d dropped into my life just when I needed him most.
Tage bought me two large bouquets of mixed flowers from one of the outside vendors before we boarded. I didn’t know what I was going to do with them on the boat, but he insisted that I have them.
What a lovely experience. The boat was beautiful. Dinner was rosemary chicken served with Quinta do Minho vinho verde wine. Tage filled my goblet then held his own up over the table.
“To new beginnings with the beautiful woman seated across from me.” I clinked his glass, blushing like mad.
When we finished eating, Tage took me by the hand and we went up onto the upper deck of the boat. The sun was just a sliver of orange across the river, highlighting the silver ripples of the water as we chugged along with the lights of Pittsburgh passing us by on both sides.
I leaned against the railing and inhaled deeply as a slight wind ruffled my hair. Tage stood beside me, his hand light against the small of my back. The breeze carried his scent to me. He was throwing off the most intriguing male vibe. I stood close to him and tried to absorb it. It was a comforting ”she’s with me, and I’ll never let anything happen to her” confidence. Not overtly sexual, yet very definitely primal.
“The lights are beautiful, aren’t they?” I smiled up at him.
He nodded and turned his chiseled, Viking face into the breeze. “They are, but not nearly as beautiful as you are tonight.”
“Stop!” I bumped him and laughed. “You’re embarrassing me.”
He took my hand again and gave it another kiss as he gazed at me, his eyes smoldering with promise. “What is it that you want from life?”
Oh, that was a stumper. I really didn’t know.
“I have no idea. You’d think I’d have myself headed in a direction by now, but... I know being a waitress at Tapestries isn’t a forever job. I just can’t picture myself doing anything else. Guess I don’t really have a plan.” I looked up at him. “How about you?”
“I want to own my own bar and restaurant someday.” He turned his head to look at me. “I want to share my life with the woman I love. I want to have children to spoil.”
I wanted those things too. I’d wasted so much time on Asher...
I could tell this conversation was heading down the road to something more serious, and I was okay with it. “Let’s go back down to the dining room so we can talk,” I said in his ear. The wind had picked up outside, and I could barely hear him.
He nodded and turned me toward the stairs.
It turned out that Tage Sorenson was the grandson of a western Pennsylvania steel magnate. When the steel industry collapsed, the family poured their money into a small brewery in Butler, Pennsylvania, turning the business around and making most of them millionaires. Tage seemed embarrassed when he mentioned that he had a large trust fund he could tap into if needed.
“I think that would be awesome,” I said. “I had to save every dime to pay off my car just to get an apartment. It must be nice not to have financial worries.”
“Yes, you would think that, but I want to do something for myself. I want to build a business with my bare hands the way my grandfather did. I could’ve worked at the brewery, but I know I wouldn’t have been satisfied there. It wasn’t mine, and I don’t want to ride my family’s coattails. That’s why I sent my resume to Tapestries. I intend to start small and finish large.” He sighed. “Does that sound strange?”
“Not at all.” I dropped my chin into my hand and smiled at him. “I think that’s a wonderful attitude to have.”
He grasped my hand across the table, catching my gaze for a few seconds before he dropped it again. “Chelsea...”
“Yes?”
“I have never met anyone who makes me shiver inside the way you do. I swear to God, I feel you here.” He placed a fist over his heart. “Will you...can we...?” He laughed nervously. “Can we make this relationship exclusive?”
I thought I understood what he was trying to say, but I leaned forward and asked, “I don’t quite get what you’re asking.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to date anyone else. I want you and me...I want us to go to the next level. I hope you feel the same way I do.” His eyes glistened in the candlelight, those blue orbs so full of hope that I got all choked up. Men have such a hard time putting their feelings into words, and he was doing the best he could.
I inhaled and looked away. He held my right hand in both of his, separating my fingers, gently squeezing. I could see he was nervous, afraid I’d say no.
“There isn’t anyone else, is there? If there is, I’ll understand. I just thought we—“
“There isn’t anyone else. You know that.” I’d told him about Asher one night while we were cleaning up at closing time, only I’d left out the part about us sleeping together. He knew exactly how I’d once felt about the guitarist for the Dirty Turtles.
He lifted his gaze up to mine. I wanted to dive into those blue eyes. It was right. He was right. My heart pounded with an emotion I couldn’t name, but I knew one thing for sure: the past was gone. I was moving on tonight.
“I’d be very proud to call you my boyfriend, Tage. Exclusive it is.”
He blew out a breath, one I knew he’d been holding, and came around to my side of the table. Before I could blink, I had a beautiful sterling silver necklace draped around my neck. Two silver charms dangled just above my cleavage: one a cursive C for Chelsea, the other a squared-off T for Tage.
He pulled me to my feet and kissed me softly on the lips. “I am the happiest man in Pittsburgh tonight.”
The next two months were pure bliss. Tage was just what I needed, a balm for my wounded soul. I couldn’t get over what a gentleman he was. I saw the inside of the finest restaurants in western Pennsylvania. He opened doors for me, left me the sweetest love notes, and bought me flowers every day. I was stupefied. So this was what a real adult relationship felt like.
For the first time in a long time, I felt loved.
Tage was such a gentleman that he was reluctant to sleep with me. He didn’t want me to feel pressured in any way. I’m telling you, when they made this man, they threw away the mold. He was also afraid of getting me pregnant. It was frustrating. I loved him so much and wanted to be intimate with him, but I understood and even appreciated that he valued me that way. I asked him if he’d feel better if I were on the pill. He said yes with a relieved look on his face.
I immediately made an appointment with my gynecologist to get birth control pills. Now that I was older, it just seemed like a safer alternative to condoms and pulling out.
The nurses drew blood. Dr. Sherwin gave me a routine pelvic exam then left the room. I sat on the tissue paper in my little blue gown for what seemed like hours, shivering in the small cold room, before she came back.
She walked in with my chart and threw it on the table in the corner. Then she shoved both hands into her doctors’ coat and gave me a strange, slanted look.<
br />
“Chelsea, is there any chance you could be pregnant?”
I held my breath. My mouth hung open as I stared at her. “Why?”
She sighed and threw open my chart with two fingers. “Because you are. About three months’ worth of pregnant, given your hCG levels.”
Jesus Fucking Christ on toast!
I shook my head; the blood roared in my ears. “No. No. I can’t be. I can’t be.”
Dr. Sherwin smiled sympathetically. “I’m sure the test isn’t wrong.”
Please, not now. Not now, when I’m so in love with Tage and we could have a life together. Don’t do this to me.
I shook my head again and stared up at her, horrified. “You don’t understand. The guy I’m seeing is not the… baby’s father. I haven’t slept with Tage yet. That’s why I’m here today. To get birth control pills.”
She frowned, sat down on the stool beside me, and took my hand. “Do you want me to look into some counseling? You have options...”
As terrible as this situation was, what she was suggesting was even more horrifying. Don’t get me wrong—I’m strongly pro-choice. It’s none of my business what another woman does with her body, but I had a baby growing inside me. An abortion was out of the question.
Tears filled my eyes. “No. I can’t do that.”
She nodded and pressed her lips together. “Okay. Will the baby’s father stand by you?”
“No. He told me he didn’t want to see me anymore. God, it was only once, and he pulled out. He pulled out, Dr. Sherwin. Doesn’t that mean...?” I searched her face for some sign that she might be wrong about this, but I knew better.
“I know a guy thinks he has a handle on it, but sometimes they don’t get out in time, and some seminal fluid is deposited against the cervix. All it takes is one sperm,” she said gently as she patted my hand. “Didn’t you think something was up when you missed a period?”
Yes, I should’ve known there was an issue when I missed the second period, but I chalked it all up to stress. That thing with Scott had been horrific then I had to deal with the whole debacle of Asher. I had been one giant exposed nerve for several months.
“But I don’t feel any different! I haven’t been sick, no sore boobs, nothing!”
“Every woman is different, Chelsea. Every pregnancy is different. You should be glad you’re not sick.”
Everything that had seemed good and happy and right in my life was now on hold. Tage and I could go no further in our relationship now. What man in his right mind would date someone who was pregnant with another man’s baby?
I dropped my face into my hands and fought tears. I had fucked everything—everything—up royally. I’d made an impetuous choice over three months before, and now I was going to lose someone who meant the world to me.
Dr. Sherwin patted my knee and got to her feet. “You have a lot of things to think about. I’m going to go ahead and get you on the schedule for prenatal care appointments. If you need anything, Chelsea—even if it’s only to talk—please don’t hesitate to call me.”
What was there to talk about? My life was over.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I didn’t know where to go first after I left the appointment with Dr. Sherwin. Should I go home and tell Mom and Dad? Should I even attempt to tell Tage about the hole I’d dug for myself? Should I drive to the Liberty Bridge and throw myself off?
I went back to my apartment to think. Unfortunately, I did very little thinking. All I could do was huddle on my bed in that dark room and cry.
I clearly wasn’t going to be able to work that night. I called Tapestries and, thankfully, Willow answered the phone. I told her I had a migraine and wouldn’t be in that night. I thought I did a good job sounding sufficiently headachy, but Willow had been my friend since the day we moved to Pittsburgh. She told me later she knew something was seriously wrong.
I sobbed until I gagged. I curled up in a ball and cried until my pillow was soaked. No human being had ever been more miserable than I was that long night.
I couldn’t tell Asher. I didn’t want to tell Tage. My mom and dad would have to be the first to hear the news. Though I knew they’d be disappointed, they loved me unconditionally. I was pretty sure Mom would even secretly be pleased by the thought of a grandchild.
Would I have to quit my job at Tapestries? I didn’t think so, but it was a good bet that I’d have to give up my precious apartment. My brief excursion into adulthood had ended. Yup, I’d dug a pretty good-sized hole for myself.
Tage. I nearly threw up every time I thought of him. He was going to be so angry, so hurt. I’d told him about Asher, but I hadn’t told him we’d had sex. He was going to dump me for sure. I had myself talked into being okay with that. Tage was a wonderful human being. He deserved so much better than me.
Your brain can only handle so much pain and stress, you know? After a while, I just stopped agonizing over everything and fell into a deep sleep.
I still don’t know how the hell he managed to get into my locked apartment. I woke up several hours later in Tage’s brawny arms as he sat on the edge of my bed.
“Chelsea, are you all right?” His hand rubbing my back pulled me from sleep.
For a few blissful moments as I lay in his arms, I didn’t remember that my life was circling the bottom of the toilet. I told him I was really glad to see him. Then I woke up.
I curled like a shrimp in his lap and turned on the faucet of tears again. “Tage. Tage,” was all I could say.
He held me tightly against him. He smelled like fresh night air with a hint of beer; his hands smelled like limes. He’d come from the bar. I loved him so goddamned much.
“If you’ll stop crying long enough to tell me what’s wrong, I may be able to help you,” he said firmly. It only made me cry harder. There was no helping me, no fixing this.
“Chelsea, please…” He tried to shift me so he could look at me, but I stiffened and resisted. He soon dropped me back into his lap.
“You’re breaking my heart, pretty girl. Please don’t cry. Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.”
I shook my head and wiped my nose with the sheet. “It’s bad. It’s really bad.”
“I love you,” he said. “Those three words trump anything bad.”
“Not this.” I managed to calm myself to the point where I was just hiccupping once in a while. I sat up and looked into his face. I wrote everything about him into my memory banks. I would never find another man like Tage Sorenson.
“You won’t love me anymore after I tell you…” I inhaled and hiccupped. “Tage, I’m pregnant.”
He jerked back; his eyes widened as they searched my swollen and tear-stained face. “But we didn’t…we haven’t yet…”
I sniffed and wiped the side of my face with the back of my hand. “It isn’t yours.” I lifted my gaze up to his. He deserved honesty. I wanted to be looking right at him when I told him. “It’s Asher Pratt’s.”
Tage shook as if he’d been shot. “How?”
I told him the whole miserable story from beginning to end. I started from the moment I’d found Scott in my apartment with a loaded pistol, to later when I’d had the breakdown at Asher’s house, to the next day when he took me home to my parents’. Then I folded up and dropped back into his lap, wholly unable to face him.
He went rigid for a few moments, his hand light on my shoulder. His breathing seemed calm. I thought that was a good sign. Finally, he moved his hand gently across my hair.
“Do you love him?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I love you.”
“Have you told anyone else?”
“No.”
He blew out a breath. “Then no one needs to know the baby is not mine. Will you marry me, Chelsea Whitaker? I refuse to lose you. I don’t have a ring to give you right now, but we can certainly remedy that tomorrow. I love you, and I love this baby. Will you be my wife?”
“I didn’t even know you three months ago. No one is going t
o believe...”
He pulled me up to face him and skewered me with those fierce warrior eyes. “I dare anyone to question me.”
“That’s very kind of you, but I don’t want you to do this because you feel sorry for me. That’s no way to start a marriage.”
“I’m not doing this because I feel sorry for you. I love you. I want to marry you.”
I stared into his eyes, searching for deception, but there was none. He wasn’t joking. He really did love me. The baby didn’t make one bit of difference to him. How could anyone be so selfless?
“I thought for sure you were going to hate me. I’ll marry you, if you want me now.” I think I might have started to cry again, but he pulled me into his arms and kissed me so thoroughly that nothing else mattered.
“I want you. I could never hate you. Ever.” He dried my tears, fussing over me like a mother hen. Then he removed every stitch of clothing I had on and made such sweet, passionate love to me that I swear it took twenty-four hours for my toes to uncurl.
Tage stayed with me that night. We laughed, we cried, we planned, and we schemed. And in between those times, we made love again and again. By the time the morning sun started to peek past my blinds, the world was a much happier place than it had been earlier.
We half-assed planned a wedding that night then abandoned all of it and opted for a quick ceremony at the local Justice of the Peace. I’ve never been one for a whole lot of fanfare anyway. If I never got the chance to walk down the aisle in a white dress, I wouldn’t die. I was just so relieved that he still loved me I would’ve married him in a port-a-john wearing a sweatshirt.
We still had to inform my parents. We cleaned up, went to breakfast, then Tage took me to the jewelry store and bought me a three-carat diamond wedding set.
“I don’t want your mother to think I’m an asshole,” he said as he placed the engagement ring on my finger. “We’re going to do this the right way.”