It’s been two hours. Poor Preston’s probably sick of waiting by now. I picked him up to come with me this morning, and then insisted he sit in the car just in case someone saw us. It’d be kind of hard to explain why he’s in an OB-GYN office. Honestly, he seemed relieved. Any time I’m reading one of the pregnancy books and it goes into the medical descriptions, he turns a serious shade of green. I smile thinking about it. He puts up with a lot to be my friend nowadays.
Of course, I put up with a lot, too. Especially when he’s hell-bent on making sure I participate in all the teenage rites of passage. Like prom. I pleaded with him to stay home, but he wouldn’t have it. Walking into that room was like walking into a lion’s den of hungry beasts looking for a juicy steak, and we were the T-bones. Once all the stares and whispers died down, a steady stream of people who’d recently been avoiding me lined up to shoot the breeze with Preston and compliment me on my dress or hair. No one asked the big question, but I did hear it being discussed by some kids in the bathroom, a few chaperones by the punch bowl, even the waiters stocking the food platters. What’s Preston doing here with her? All the smiles to my face couldn’t disguise the venom-laced emphasis on her.
When Barrett and Trevor stood up and waved Preston over, my stomach lurched at the thought of getting too close to the table where Jaycee’d sat all night with a shit-eating grin on her face that reeked of pure evil. It’s stupid to think she’d figure out my secret just being within five feet of me. Girls like her always sniff out the dirt.
When we got to the table, though, Jaycee turned toward the stage and refused to look in our direction. Ainsley and Mallory both shot me a smile on the sly, eyes darting back and forth between me and Jaycee.
That’s when Trevor piped up. “So? You two are back together?”
Preston responded, strong and confident. “We’re just friends.”
I wanted to crawl under the table when Jaycee snorted out loud, still not looking our way. Preston snapped his head in her direction. “Did you say something, Jaycee? You’re usually so full of commentary… or something.”
She twisted her neck in our direction, her eyes slashing us like daggers but her cheeks just red enough to let me know he’d gotten one over on her. This new side of him definitely had its perks.
The squeaking door startles me from my thoughts as the doctor rushes in with a few pamphlets on healthy eating for two and a factsheet on the prenatal vitamins he’s called in to the pharmacy. I’m in the elevator, riding down to parking, when it hits me. This is really happening. Before today, it was easy to think I’d dreamed it. Other than the test stick and the couple bouts of throw up, there was no concrete, medically-provided evidence. Now there is.
The doctor poked and prodded my veins and a few other more personal places and confirmed it. Gage’s baby is growing inside me, and in just a few short weeks, the whole town’s going to know.
Preston’s reclined, napping in the passenger seat when I open the door and slide behind the wheel. The slamming door rouses him, hair tousled, eyes heavy as he looks around all goony-like before coming back to reality.
“How’d it go?”
“Come home with me awhile? Someone needs to keep me off the ledge.”
“Rayne, you need to calm down.” Preston sips his sweet tea from a mason jar. “You still have a while to figure things out before you’re showing. You just graduated last week. You don’t have to see those kids again any time soon.”
I’d like to slap him, or hug him, or possibly both. He’s being strong and sensible like I need him to be, but sometimes I wish he’d give it up and have a conniption with me. Solidarity, you know?
“But what about work? All kinds of people come in there and…”
“You wear a black t-shirt and jeans. You can cover anything with a t-shirt. At least for a while until you figure out how to tell your dad,” he says. “Quit flipping out. You and I are the only ones who know, and we’ll be the only ones until you’re ready.” He stands up and walks toward the kitchen. “More tea?”
I stare down at my jar, still full to the brim. My stomach is also in protest right now. “No thanks.”
Preston ducks around the corner as the doorbell rings. I set my drink down on the coffee table, walk to the door and fling it open. The antique wind-up clock on the mantel chimes three o’clock, very cinematic-like, marking the hour disaster came knocking at the Davidson house, a terrible blonde-headed disaster holding out a glittery gift bag in my direction. No way I’m taking anything from her. Whatever’s in it is no peace offering.
“What do you want, Jaycee?” I glance at the bag and back up to her face.
She frowns and tilts her head sideways, almost looking hurt, except for the fact she’s incapable of feeling. “I wanted to talk to you at prom, but I didn’t know what to say… then.”
“And now you do?”
“Yeah, something like that. I got you a present. It’s kinda perfect, actually.” She shakes the bag toward me. “Take it. I hope you like it.”
“A present?”
“Don’t ruin it. This is a gesture, Rayne. A gift from me to you that says I’m sorry. I’m still here. I’m still interested.”
In my peripheral vision, I see Preston walk back into the den. He slinks along the wall and presses himself into the space beside the front door where she can’t see him. I reach out and take the bag from her hand and pull out a wad of tissue paper. At the bottom is a round bottle. When I pull it out and look at the label, my heart stops. The silence screams in my ears, and when I look up, her lips are curled in a grin.
Prenatal vitamins. She just gave me prenatal vitamins. Oh my God. How does she know? No way.
“Told you it was perfect,” she says, her voice syrupy-smooth. “Doesn’t this gift say I’m sorry, I’m here, and I’m interested?” I can’t form words. My eyes blare so wide they water. Maybe it’s tears. There’s no explaining exactly what reaction I’m having right now. “No? Let me explain, silly. I’m sorry you didn’t listen to me and ended up knocked up and alone. I’m here to tell you I know the truth, and I’m totally interested in seeing you squirm when the whole town finds out. Make sense now?”
“But… how’d you…?” I stammer. The thoughts zoom through my mind at light speed, but they won’t connect. They’re all scattered and fragmented, weaving together just enough to let me know I’m totally screwed. I cut my eyes at Preston who’s squatted down now, hands clasped over his face.
She laughs and slaps her hand against the screen door she’d been holding open with her hip. “Oh, I guess you haven’t heard. I’m working at the pharmacy for the summer until school starts. What luck, right?”
“Jaycee, you can’t…”
“Can’t what? Tell the whole town I was right? They’ll see your true colors and how you probably are a little mental like your Mama. And imagine what they’ll say when they find out Gage got you knocked up and left you like the trash he is.” She pauses and shakes her head. The venom in her voice thickens. “You had an opportunity with Preston, and you squandered it. Now you’re dragging him back into your filth. Does he even know you’re pregnant, or are you trying to set him up? I’m gonna make sure the whole town knows the truth about you and Gage. They’re gonna find out exactly…”
“Shut up, Jaycee. You don’t know a damn thing!” Preston explodes to his feet and pushes in front of me. Jaycee gasps and jumps backward, letting the screen door go. It slams hard between us, a battle line drawn.
Her eyes narrow and she clicks her tongue. “You’ll never learn. You come in here…”
“I’m here because I’m the father. The baby is mine.”
They’re in a stand-off in the doorway, Jaycee open-mouthed and Preston, hands shoved in his pockets, wearing a smug grin. I do the only thing I can think of. I pull Preston back in the room and slam the door in Jaycee’s face. Through the blinds, I watch her walk to her car, stopping once or twice to look back, before getting in a
nd driving off. I collapse backwards into the door, staring at Preston. “We need to talk.”
The door is the only thing holding me upright. After everything I’ve been through, is it still possible to be in shock? I don’t know. What I do know is I’d like to slap the smile off Preston’s face. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Hear me out…” He rushes to my side and pulls me away from the door, his eyes wide as brown canyons.
I shove him away and massage my temples in deep, circular motions. The disbelief in what I’ve just witnessed pounds like a drum inside my skull. Preston didn’t just open a can of worms. He stuck a freaking piece of dynamite in it and blew it sky high. “No! Do you realize what you’ve just done?”
“Yeah, I saved your butt.” As if I wasn’t already reeling. This fool’s jacked up if he believes that. He points to the door as if Jaycee’s still standing there. “You heard her making up stories about you and Gage. That’s not gonna happen.”
I sink into the couch cushions and contemplate diving under the blankets still lying there from earlier. “So you tell her the baby’s yours? How is that any better?”
“This town’s not talking crap about Gage… or you. I never stood up for you before, but I am now.” If this is his idea of standing up, he needs to just sit down.
“We can’t just lie about it. The truth always comes out. What happens if Gage comes back?”
Preston shoots me a sideways glance, his eye-roll conveying more than words ever could. “What if the truth never has to come out?”
“What?”
He sits down beside me and pulls my hands into his. “I still have feelings for you, Rayne. Real feelings. I know it sounds crazy, but I’ll be this baby’s father.” This has to be a joke. We’ve discussed this before and he knows—at least he said he knew—that my heart has no intention of abandoning Gage. I made him swear to me this was all friendly, and now he’s trying to flip the script. Not trying at this point even. Forcing.
“Oh my God, Preston, that makes it so much worse!” I wrench my hands away, refusing to look at him.
“Worse? How?”
“Because I love Gage. Like forever.” I whisper it to myself more than him.
“I love him, too. He’s my brother.” The weight of his palm wraps around my shoulder. His voice is softer but still firm. He’s not letting this go down without a fight.
“Exactly!”
“Yes—exactly. If he loved you—loves you—like I think, he wouldn’t want you facing this alone. Maybe he’s too messed up to be with you, but I’m here. I want to do this. I’m willing to put it on the line and see where it goes.” He gets up and walks around, planting himself in front of me, refusing to be ignored.
“What if he comes back?” God, please let him come back. Except the skepticism in my own voice bleeds through this time, and I’m scared. Scared he won’t come back. Scared I’ll have to do this alone.
“What if he doesn’t?”
No. I refuse to consider it. It’s why I keep Mama’s note tucked in my pocket within easy reach—to help when the doubt sets in. I read her words about setting love free and rejoicing when it returns but always refusing to consider the last line. What if freed love doesn’t return? I’ll always believe he’ll come back because I won’t consider that, “if it doesn’t, it never was” part. Because if he doesn’t come back, that means this rule-breaking, earth-shaking love I’m clinging to was something only I felt. Something not real. Something imagined.
I sigh and look up at him. He nods his head up and down, coaxing me into playing this charade. I want Gage. Preston wants me. But it’s not just me anymore. It’s us, me and my baby, and I have to do what’s best. I glance at the mantle clock. “Jaycee’s been gone ten minutes. By my calculations, we have maybe five to get to your parent’s house before the shit hits the fan.”
Preston’s quiet. He doesn’t give pep talks, only chews the inside of his cheek. Don’t you at least get a cigarette and a blindfold before facing the firing squad? Anything’d work at this point.
“I can’t do this.” Walking into the Howard house with a bombshell announcement like this could only be construed as a suicide attempt. My fingers strum my kneecaps as I bend forward, sucking in deep gulps of air. “Your mom’s gonna have a conniption.” It’s been months since I’ve stepped foot in the Howard house, mostly because I’m as welcome as a flea infestation. For the most part, Gage and I steered clear of this place, and the last vibrant memory in my head of being with Charlotte in her home was the dreaded family dinner when she insinuated I was trash. Can’t wait to tell her I’m pregnant. How lovely.
“Mom’s gonna have to deal.” Preston takes my hand and pulls me from the car toward the house. I think about planting my feet, digging in real good, with pullback. I once had a dog who mastered the technique for each vet visit. Of course, she always peed in the bushes, too, but that one might get me locked up in the asylum.
Our feet barely hit the porch floor before Charlotte yanks the double doors open. “What the hell is going on?” she spits through gritted teeth. “Get in this house. Now.” As we hustle in, she thrusts her head out, scanning up and down the street as if at any moment some small-town paparazzo will jump from the bushes.
The door slams, rattling the petite Chinese vases on the shelves. I try to focus on my chipped nails but it’s impossible. Staring at my trembling fingers makes me dizzy. The click-clack of stilettos approach from behind, but I don’t turn around. Apparently, the jig is up. She knows, and why we thought it was a good idea to come here, I have no idea because now I’m in her house, at her mercy. And that’s something I know she has little of.
I lift my eyes to Preston, who, other than slightly dilated pupils, stands tall, hands casually tucked into his pockets. “Mom, we came to tell you… Rayne is pregnant with my baby.” His voice cracks at first but grows harder with each word.
Oh. My. God. We talked about this plan but hearing him say it just sounds so wrong.
His baby. No, this is Gage’s baby.
I want to scream it from the rooftops, yell it in her done-up, hoity-toity face. But I stifle it because I’m fairly certain the only reason I’m still standing at this point is because Charlotte thinks her DNA, Preston’s DNA, is living inside me.
“No! I refuse to believe this!” Her shrill yell hits me like a shockwave and for the first time, I turn to look at her, search her face for any clues of what unholy hell she’s about to unleash. She plasters her bony fingers over her mouth, talking out between the spaces. “A father at your age? Your whole future is fucked!”
I cringe at the word coming from her lips, exposing a crack in her all-too-perfect façade. Even her hair is disheveled, with wild sprigs jutting out from her French twist. Her mascara smears out from the corner of her eye. She snorts in a long breath and expels it from her mouth, and I half expect fire to flame from her tongue.
She thrusts her manicured finger at my stomach. “The entire town is talking about this… problem.” Her eyes bore into me. “How did you manipulate this? Poke holes in condoms or…”
“Mother, enough!” He’s never called her “mother” before, and I don’t believe it’s a compliment. Neither does she. She shrinks back, her bottom lip quivers. “No one planned this. You of all people should know that sometimes the unexpected happens. Then what? You deal with it. What do you always say? Be a man, stand up, take responsibility, and that’s what I’m doing. I’m standing up for my family!”
She has no clue how true that last part is. He’s standing up for family all right, protecting his brother and his unborn niece or nephew, protecting the Howard name, because he knows the town, though they may question his sanity, will never condemn him for this. Only Preston can bridge the gaps and make this palatable for everyone. Except me. My reservations lurk in the shadows.
The verbal tennis match between Charlotte and Preston fades to background noise. Her insults and his rebuttals bounce
back and forth without pause, each one talking about me and this baby like we’re not even in the room. To hell with this. No one is telling me how to live my life, especially not a snooty-ass Howard who’s never been anything but rude and abusive.
I ball my fists at my ears and clamp my eyelids closed, but nothing stops the crazy whir of emotions boiling up inside, which becomes deafening white noise. “Shut up! Just. Shut. Up.” Immediate silence. When I open my eyes, everyone’s staring at me. “Dammit. Do I get to say anything?”
“Yes. You do.” Jackson walks around the corner.
Charlotte whips her head in his direction, staring blankly a minute before straightening her blouse and licking her lips. She pulls back her shoulders and squares herself in front of Jackson as if preparing to tackle him to the floor. “Surprise, surprise you show up now. Here to defend yet another bastard child, a blot on the Howard name?”
“First of all, I’ve been listening to this whole thing from the other room, and second, there are no bastards in the Howard house, love. Only my two sons, and now,” he nods toward me, “a grandchild. All equally important to me. I’ve lived with your callousness toward Gage all these years and somehow tolerated it because you were ever mindful of my sin. But this child? Are you so despicable as to hate your own blood?”
Your own blood. The words slice through me like daggers, and I shift my gaze to Preston. He stares back, and then grins. I can’t, because in my head, one of Mama’s old sayings is playing on repeat. What a tangled web we weave…
Charlotte marches forward, her boobs pressing into his chest when she gets so close. “How dare you insinuate…”
“Enough.” Jackson juts his palm in her face as he turns to me. “I believe Rayne deserves to speak her piece.”
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