Rock'n Tapestries

by Shari Copell

  “He didn’t get me pregnant and abandon me. He didn’t know I was pregnant when he disappeared this last time. I didn’t know.”

  “Oookay.”

  “Don’t say it like that. It’s a rather important detail. Had he known about this baby….”

  “He wouldn’t have left you, and you wouldn’t be my wife right now.” I could hear the pain in his voice. “Finish your sentence, Chelsea. I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”

  “Don’t you dare put words in my mouth!” I had only a tenuous grip on my patience. I needed to calm down. “Look, we’re going down a road I never intended to go down. This isn’t about you and me…”

  “Oh, but it is.”

  “It isn’t,” I insisted. “He has no one, Tage. He’s dying. He was as close to me as he’s ever been to anyone, not including his mother. What kind of person would I be if I let him die alone?”

  Tage crossed his arms in front of him and pressed his lips together. “I sense an ulterior motive here.”

  “I’m sorry that you think I have an ulterior motive in all this.” This was frustrating. Time to try another angle. “Look, I love you. I’m going to be your wife for a long time, hopefully. I don’t love Asher anymore, but I do feel a sense of responsibility toward him. He has no one. Do you understand what that must feel like to someone who’s dying? I know—it’s his own fault he closed himself off from everyone who could have made a difference in his life. I’m not going to debate that with you. But I have a choice here, and I don’t think I can live with myself if he dies alone in that hospital room knowing I didn’t make any kind of an effort whatsoever.” I let Tage absorb that then continued, “That’s just how I am, baby. And I think that’s how you are too. You’re the kindest person I know.”

  He was silent for a long time, but I thought I saw the hardness in his eyes abate a little.

  “What about the baby?”

  This was going to be the hard part—the tough sell. “I’d like to tell him about her.”

  He snorted and went to turn away from me, but I grabbed his arm.

  When he turned back to me, he had tears in his eyes. My heart squeezed a little for the soft-hearted man I’d married. Maybe I was pushing things too far. I was willing to compromise on this part of it, but I wanted to say what I was thinking first.

  “That baby is mine,” he whispered with a catch in his voice. “She’s mine, Chelsea.”

  “She is, and she’s so lucky to have you for a father.” I stepped closer to him and wrapped my arms around him.

  “We swore we weren’t going to tell anyone any differently.” He hesitated then wrapped his arms around me as well. He was warm and solid and smelled slightly of patchouli, which I love.

  “I don’t think it’s a threat to this little family we’ve started if Asher knows about her. Can’t you find it in your heart to at least let him take this knowledge with him? It may bring him some peace if he knows a little bit of his DNA is going to live on after him.” I looked up at him. “I’m not trying to take anything away from you. I would never do that. If you insist that he not be told, I’ll abide by your wishes. But you’re big enough to share this with him. I know you are.”

  I felt him stiffen, and I got the sense that he was going to ask that the baby be kept a secret between the two of us. Bless his heart, Tage asked very little of me, content to let me be myself in this marriage. That he was putting up even a little bit of a fight on this issue spoke volumes to me. I was prepared to let it go if he insisted.

  He rubbed my back in slow, gentle circles. He was as silent as a mountain. I laid my head against his chest and listened to the soft thump of his heart. I loved this man so much. I knew what I was asking was causing him pain, and that was not my intention at all. But marriage is compromise and diplomacy, right?

  He finally pushed me back a little, canted his head, and peered down into my face. “I’m going to ask one thing of you. Several things, actually.”

  “What’s that?” I looked up at him.

  “First, this little girl is never to know that I am not her father. Never. I am not going to be the kind of husband who makes demands of you, but this is important to me. Can you find it in your heart to agree to that?”

  I blew out a breath. “Of course I can. I know how much you love her already. I agree.”

  “And no one else is to know it either. Fair enough?”

  I nodded. “Fair enough.”

  He sighed. I watched him make the decision to be a compassionate human being. “Then go and tell him. I don’t mind if you visit with him, but I would ask that you take care of yourself. No skipping meals or missing naps if you need one. And I want the number direct to his room, if you don’t mind. I want to be able to get ahold of you if I need to. Will you get it for me?”

  “Of course I will.”

  “And if all of this proves to be too upsetting for you, I’m going to ask you to stop visiting him. Are you okay with that?”

  “Yes.” I knew I had to look after both the baby and myself, physically, mentally, and emotionally.

  He pulled me hard against him—at least as much as he could with my stomach between us—and kissed me on the top of the head.

  “This hurts me, baby girl, but I love what you are inside. I love that you care so much about others. You’re going to be an amazing mother, and I feel very lucky that you’re mine.”

  I broke down sobbing against his chest. We stood there together for a long, long time.

  In truth, I was the lucky one. I would try never to forget it.

  I didn’t go to see Asher again for two days. I needed that time to process the situation and think. And cry. How did things get so messed up with Asher and me?

  I was so freaking confused for those two days I didn’t know if I was coming or going. I wouldn’t have Tage if Asher hadn’t run out on me yet again, so no regrets there. And yet…

  I just had to accept that I couldn’t undo what had been done. I think that’s what caused me the most agony. When it mattered—when Asher still would’ve had choices and a chance of survival—I might’ve made a difference. Now all I could do was see him through to the end.

  And still my soul was unsettled. Do women have room in their hearts for more than one man? I can’t speak for anyone else, but I came to the conclusion that I did. I didn’t love Asher the way I loved Tage, but I knew without doubt he’d always be a part of me. I would never forget him.

  I gathered up my courage and got things right in my mind. I would stay by Asher’s side until he took his last breath. That’s what you do for someone you love, right?

  “There you are! I thought maybe you’d changed your mind about visiting me.” Asher pushed himself up to a sitting position in the bed. Though his color was terrible, his eyes were bright, the smile heartfelt.

  “No, I just had some things to do, that’s all.” I smiled slightly as I laid the magazines and pizza I’d brought for him on his tray table. “Have you eaten yet? I brought pizza from Primanti’s for you.”

  He sucked in a breath and stared up at me with a grin. “Holy shit, you really are an angel, aren’t you? I don’t have much of an appetite lately, but I’d never turn down Primanti’s.”

  I laid the warm pizza box on his lap then got out the paper plates and napkins I had in my backpack. He dug in with gusto. I was glad to see it. He was nothing but skin stretched over a skeleton.

  “I knew you liked their pizza. That’s why I brought it. It’s bound to be better than the hospital food they’re giving you.”

  “It’s not too bad actually. They give me anything I want, any time I want it. It’s sure not pizza from Primanti’s though.” He put the already half-eaten slice of pizza down on the plate and looked up at me.

  “Thank you, Chelsea. I really appreciate this.”

  “Any time, dude.” I slid a slice of pizza onto my own plate and sat in the chair beside the bed.

  “I thought maybe your husband wouldn’t let you come back.” Ashe
r stumbled over the word husband. If I hadn’t known him so well, I would’ve missed it.

  “He’s a good guy. I’m lucky to have him.” Unshed tears burned in my throat. I would have to be very careful about the things I said if I was going to hold it together.

  Asher nodded and looked away. “I’m glad you found someone. I’m glad to see you so happy.”

  “Thank you, Asher.”

  He wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin, looking thoughtful. “Y’know, I’ve been thinking about the two of us for the past couple of days. I’ve come to the conclusion that you and I were lovers in a past life, and we just couldn’t get it right. We’re doomed to repeat the past until we do.” He shook his head. “Looks like it won’t happen in this one either. We’ll have to try and fix it in the next one.” He picked his head up and gave me a look that ripped my heart out by the roots. “I’ll wait for you, Chelsea.”

  “Oh God….Asher…” I reached out and grabbed his hand. A lone tear tracked down his cheek. Now I knew the apocalypse was upon us. Asher Pratt did not cry.

  “I’m sorry,” he said as he wiped at his eyes. “I swore I wouldn’t break down.”

  I took the hand I held in mine and splayed it against the bulge of my stomach. The baby chose that moment to kick. He looked up at me with wide eyes.

  “I am so angry with you for not being honest with me about your diabetes. But I can’t be angry about that if I’m going to be less than honest with you.” I inhaled and caught his gaze. I needed him to be looking right at me when I told him. “You’re leaving a little piece of yourself behind with me. I just wanted to thank you for that.”

  He looked bewildered as another tear dropped from the corner of his eye. “I don’t get what you mean.”

  The baby kicked again, and I held his hand hard against me, trying with all my might to connect my daughter with her father. “The baby. She’s yours.”

  He shivered. I’ve never seen anyone go white so fast. “No way. No freakin’ way.”

  “She was conceived the night you made love to me after Scott killed himself. Guess you didn’t get out fast enough.” I gave him a half-smile.

  He stared at me for the longest time, his gaze darting all over my face, moving down to my stomach when she kicked.

  “And I left you. I wasn’t there for you.” Tears poured down his face now, in perfect, miserable sync with my own.

  “We shouldn’t cry. It’s okay.” I patted his hand. “It worked out for the best.”

  “Your husband? Tage? He knows?”

  “He knows.”

  “And he married you anyway?”

  I laughed and sniffled at the same time. “I can’t believe it myself. He loved me enough to marry me anyway.”

  Intense pain moved across his face then, and my heart broke for him. His eyes were sunken, haunted, full of regret. I understood. We were trapped in this moment. We couldn’t go back, and neither one of us wanted to go forward.

  “He’ll be a good father to her then.”

  I nodded. “He loves her so much already. He can’t wait to be a father.”

  He scrubbed at his eyes with a napkin. He was silent for several long moments, staring at the uneaten crust of pizza on the plate in his lap. I didn’t know what to say. The thought that maybe he wouldn’t have thrown his life away like this if he’d known… Well, I just couldn’t go there and stay sane.

  When he looked up at me again, I saw the old Asher. There was strength there.

  “I don’t want you to come and see me tomorrow.” I watched his throat pulse as he swallowed. “I want you to come the day after though. And I want you to bring your husband with you. Will you do that for me?”

  I sighed heavily. I didn’t know what Tage would say to this request. “I don’t know if…”

  “Please, Chelsea. I don’t have much time, and there are some things I have to set right. I know I’m asking a lot of you…and Tage…but I can’t tell you how important this is to me. Please…”

  I wondered what he was up to. “Okay. We’ll be here.”

  “I don’t know how I feel about this yet,” Tage said as he swung the car into the parking lot of the hospital. “I’ll be staring into the eyes of a man who has seen my wife naked. That’s gonna be awkward as hell.”

  His statement irritated me a little, but I laughed anyway. When you’re married, you have to choose your battles. “All you men think alike, don’t you?”

  He laughed too. “What do you think this is about?”

  “I don’t know.” Asher had left me a voice message the day before, asking that we be in his room at 1:00 p.m. sharp. He’d sounded excited, which I thought odd.

  There was another man in Asher’s room with him when we got there—a man in a suit with a briefcase. It didn’t take a genius to see he was a lawyer.

  Asher’s gaze fell on Tage and lingered. He was sizing him up. My husband had been right—this was awkward. Then Asher stuck out his hand and smiled, scattering the tension that had come in with us. “You’re a big guy, aren’t you?”

  Tage rumbled with laughter as he shook Asher’s hand. “So they say.”

  It didn’t need to be done, but I introduced them to each other. The lawyer, a small, thin, balding man, watched us with a polite smile before interjecting himself, “I’m Mr. Wymouth, Asher’s attorney. He wants to discuss some things with the two of you.”

  Oh, God.

  Asher cleared his throat and fixed my husband with a pointed gaze. “Mr. Sorenson, will you act as executor for me? I am leaving the house and its contents, my bank accounts, and other things to you and Chelsea. It just makes sense that you would be the executor.”

  Tage glanced at me, alarmed. “I guess I don’t know…”

  “I think you know why I want Chelsea to have everything. She’s been a good friend to me. There’s no reason to go into detail in front of Mr. Wymouth. You have only to say yes or no and sign the papers.”

  Asher stared hard at me. I knew what was going on now. He wanted to leave his estate to me, so his daughter would have something from him. I felt my breath catch in my throat. I hadn’t told him that Tage made me promise we would never tell her who her biological father was. I felt as though I were ever so slowly being backed into a corner.

  I glanced back up at my Swede. He looked as though he’d sucked a lemon.

  I glanced over at the lawyer. “Mr. Wymouth, can we talk to Asher privately for a moment?”

  He nodded his head, gathered up his papers, and left the room without a word.

  “Asher, what the hell are you doing?” I asked. “You could’ve given us a warning…”

  “Were you planning to tell my daughter about me?” Asher tilted his head and gazed up at me.

  Tage jumped in before I could speak. “We don’t want to confuse her. I’ve asked Chelsea that she not be told. I don’t want to be the hard-ass in all of this, but I’ve made very few demands…”

  Asher raised his hands into the air. “I get you, Tage. I totally respect your decision. I appreciate what you’ve done for Chelsea. It’s none of my business anyway. I just wondered.” He pulled his focus back to me. “I want her to have my stuff though, if that’s okay with you. I have $250,000 in the bank, the house, my car. I want my daughter to have it, even if she never knows a thing about me. I was going to have Mr. Wymouth take care of my estate, but I’ve had him rewrite my will, leaving everything to the two of you. With Chelsea here about to explode…” he gave me a lopsided grin, “…it just seems to make more sense to have Tage act as my executor.”

  I held my breath. I knew Tage was doing the same. We glanced at each other.

  We didn’t need the money, but Asher wanted to do this one thing for a child he’d never see. I understood. I hoped Tage would. I put several statements into my eyes as I stared at my husband.

  After a long, silent moment, Tage nodded his head slightly in agreement. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

  “One other thing,” Asher said. “Will you at
least encourage her to pursue an interest in music? For me? My black Strat and three Les Paul guitars are under my bed at the house. Will you make sure she gets them?”

  I stared at Asher’s hands and fingers. He’d given so much joy to so many with his musical talent. It tore me apart to think of those hands and fingers falling silent. But if musical talent is a gene that can be passed on, this child would surely be a prodigy.

  Tears filled my eyes. “I’ll make sure she gets your guitars.”

  He nodded. “Thank you. Have you picked out a name for her?”

  “Nicole. We haven’t decided on a middle name yet,” I told him.

  Asher turned to address Tage. “You’ll be her father now. Thank you for stepping up for both of my girls. Would you at least consider Ashley as a middle name?”

  My husband had tears running down his own cheeks now. We were all a fucking mess.

  “Nicole Ashley it is.” Tage shook Asher’s hand and ran a hand under his nose as he sniffled.

  “Take good care of them, won’t you? Chelsea deserves the best.”

  “She is the best. Neither of them will want for a thing,” Tage choked. “I can promise you that.”

  Mr. Wymouth was called back into the room, the appropriate papers were signed, and that was that.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  With all of the grim decisions and paperwork out of the way, Asher seemed to decline a little more every day. Talking was becoming an effort for him. On those days, I just sat quietly beside him and held his hand. When he was awake, we spoke to each other with our eyes.

  I tried to stay strong, but most of the time I had a wad of emotion stuck in my throat that would’ve morphed into a flood of tears at the slightest thing. I did a lot of swallowing. Asher was so stoic and accepting of everything, the least I could do was hold it together in his presence.