by R. C. Martin
“A couple weeks ago, I might have asked him—hypothetically, of course—if he’d be open to a life away from our family and friends, should the opportunity present itself. So long as his job will allow him to transfer, he assured me he would support my decision. This is my decision. I would love nothing more than to accept.”
“All right, then,” said Eddalyn. She shifted her attention onto me and said, “How about you tell us the game plan.”
I didn’t bother concealing my pleased expression as I acquiesced.
Chapter Seventeen
His
It took two months and five trips to Los Angeles before I was ready to sign a lease on an office space almost exactly halfway between West Los Angeles and Santa Monica. It was prime real estate that was on the market for less than a week. Though it would cost us an arm and a leg, I was equally as confident that, in time, we’d come out on top. No sooner had the contract been sent to our internal legal team than I had Rick on the line.
“What’s the word?” he said in greeting.
“Headed for the airport now,” I spoke through a grin. “Put time on my calendar for tomorrow afternoon. I want a new layout for this space by next week. I’ll call the contractors from our last job out here and check availability.”
“It’s like you’re itching to get away from us,” he teased.
“If I thought Eddalyn would allow it, you’d have been part of my relocation team—but no way she’s letting you go.”
He laughed, promised he’d block out time for us to meet the next day, and then we exchanged farewells. Just as I’d told him, I was in the back of a town car and headed for the airport a few minutes later. Between contracts, permits, demolition and the build-out, it would be at least another four to five months before we were ready to open our doors for business. Though, while I was bound to have my hands full with an office design, there was Teddy’s dream house to find, as well.
It was difficult to bask in the victory of the day when it felt like my hunt had hardly just begun. The likelihood of having a completed storefront and a house ready for move in before the end of the year felt like a tall order—but I wasn’t one to cower in the face of a challenge. I’d made a deal with Teddy, but what I had in mind to secure for her was far greater than any of her conditions could outline.
Even with two years of marriage under our belts, the house we called home was mine. When she first moved in with me, I’d made room for some of her things and we’d hung some of her favorite art pieces—but the design of the place hadn’t changed. She never complained or even mentioned a change in the décor; but with the possibility of our new home on the horizon, I felt the need for a fresh slate. I wasn’t the same man who remodeled the house on the end of Mountain Avenue—and she was far from an exceptionally welcome guest in my bed. So, while I had every intention of finding her a house with a view and a pool, I refused to move her into a home that didn’t feel like ours. Whether or not I’d be able to accomplish such a feat in mere months’ time, I had no idea—but I sure as hell intended to try.
On the drive to the airport, I sent Curtis a text. He’d been the one to help me find a commercial real estate agent. Now that an office space had been found, I informed him I was in need of a real estate agent to help find a house. It came as no surprise when he got back to me by the time I reached my destination. Even more, he offered not one but four recommendations for me to investigate.
I waited until I made it through security before I pushed a call through to Teddy. When she didn’t answer, I hung up and dialed again. It surprised me when I got her voicemail for a second time. My trip had been a quick one with only a one night stay. Still, it was no secret how my nearly half a dozen trips to the coast in almost as many weeks wore on my wife. That, coupled with the fact that it was early on a Monday afternoon, were reason enough for the slight frown that tugged at my brow as I left her a message. Mondays were days when she was usually available to me.
“You must be in your darkroom,” I mumbled. “Anyway, I’ll be on a plane in less than an hour. Good news on my end. I’ll fill you in at dinner. Let’s go out. I’ll let you know when I land. Bye, sweetheart.”
I hung up, found my way to the appropriate terminal, and distracted myself with emails until it was time to board. Three hours later, on my way to the parking garage at the Denver airport, I pushed another call through to my wife. Again, she didn’t answer. This time, I didn’t bother leaving a message. With a shake of my head, I hurried toward my Porsche. While my original plan had been to drive from the airport to the office, Teddy’s silence completely derailed any such itinerary. Just like always, her silence made me nearly desperate for answers. It was almost five o’clock in the evening when I pulled into the driveaway. I felt only marginally relieved when I spotted Teddy’s Mercedes in the garage.
“Teddy?” I called as soon as I entered the house. When I received no immediate answer, I started to yell her name a second time as I peeked into the bedroom. I stopped short when I found her curled up with a pillow on the bed. She was fully dressed, in a pair of distressed jeans and a tank top. Her hair was pulled up into a loose bun on top of her head, which left her face unobscured. She looked peaceful, but even the sight of her in slumber didn’t spur me to feel the same.
“Baby,” I spoke in a hushed tone. Sitting in the space beside her, I rested my hand in the small curve of her waist and gave her a gentle squeeze. “Theodora, wake up.”
She hummed in response, hiding her face in the pillow as she drew in a deep breath. On her exhale, she peeked up at me and then shook her head in confusion. “Baby? Your home? What time is it?”
“Five.” I moved my hand from her waist and smoothed the back of my fingers across her forehead and down her cheek. She didn’t feel warm, but this information didn’t calm my nerves, either. “I called you. Three times. Have you been sleeping all day?”
“No,” she replied, reaching for my hand. She laced her fingers through mine and informed me, “You were right. The first time you called, I was in the darkroom. I got your message, and then meant to lay down for just a second. You mentioned you wanted to go out tonight, and I’ve just been so tired lately. I thought a nap would be smart. I didn’t think I’d sleep so long. I also thought you’d stop by the office before you came home.”
“That was the plan, but you weren’t answering my calls.”
“Right,” she muttered as she pushed herself up. She brought her lips to mine in a soft kiss and smiled at me sleepily. “I’m sorry. Well, sorry I missed your calls—not sorry you’re home early.”
I studied her for a long moment, irritated that I couldn’t shake my worry. Something was off, but I didn’t know what. She mentioned her exhaustion, but her sleeping patterns had changed over the last couple of months. At first, it was nothing. She slept later in the morning or dozed off in the car whenever we traveled for longer than an hour. Except, it was getting worse as time went on. Naps in the middle of the day were out of character for her. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, there was only one explanation that I could come up with to make sense of her behavior.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she whispered, her eyes staring intently into mine.
“I’m worried about you.”
“Why?”
“Since the minute I put my foot on the gas with this relocation process, you’ve been different. Tired. Sweetheart, I know this is going to be a big change, but if it’s—if the reality of this happening is depressing you—”
“Judah,” she interrupted with a frown. “I’m not depressed.”
“Maybe you are and you don’t know it.”
“Baby…” She kissed me again, this time wrapping her arms around my shoulders as she pulled away. “You’re really sweet for worrying, but I’m not depressed. Maybe a little overwhelmed with you coming and going, and things happening so quickly, but—I’m excited. How could I not be? I can feel how ready you are to start this next chapter in our lives, and I�
�m with you. I told you I was, and I won’t take it back.”
I hesitated before I spoke again, not entirely certain how she’d react to my next thought. “Maybe you should see your doctor anyway.”
She pulled in a deep breath and blew out a sigh. “As a matter of fact, I have my yearly check-up in a couple days. Not that I think it’ll make any difference, but I’ll mention my husband is suddenly overly concerned about me taking naps.”
“You don’t take naps, sweetheart.”
Sobering up a tad, she touched her forehead to mine and murmured, “I’m fine. I promise. And I’ll prove it. Now,” she started to say lightheartedly, “what are your thoughts on making-out with me until dinner time? You’re kind of hot when you get worried about me.”
She hardly gave me a chance to respond as she lined her lips up with mine. I chuckled, sliding my arm around her waist as I muttered, “I can do a lot more than make-out with you between now and dinner.”
“Oh, yeah?” she giggled on a coy whisper. “Prove it.”
Chapter Eighteen
Hers
I remembered the last time I went to the doctor for one thing and was ambushed with the most unexpected news. It was an afternoon I was positive I would never forget. Moreover, it was an afternoon I thought I’d never experience again. It was impossible. Or so I thought. Then again, as I tried to make sense of the sounds Dr. Murphy made with her mouth, I wasn’t sure what was impossible anymore.
I swallowed hard, in an attempt to unplug my ears, but her voice still sounded muffled. Sealing my eyes closed tight, I tried to concentrate. If what she was saying was true, my whole life was about to change. Except, even as her voice traveled through my ears and my brain started to translate the sound into words, I still couldn’t understand how it was possible.
“Teddy?” she murmured, her tone laced in concern. “I know, given your history, this news may come as a shock. It may even take you a few days to wrap your head around it—but your body has already started to adapt, and we need to discuss next steps.”
“Three months?” It was all I could think to say. I buried my fingers in my hair and gripped the strands in a desperate attempt to somehow ground myself. “How is that—how could I not know?”
“That’s just my estimate,” she replied. “As I said before, I’d like to schedule an ultrasound to be sure—but if the approximate date of your last period is accurate, then you are entering into your second trimester.”
It wasn’t until she asked that I really thought hard about when I’d last had my period. I barely kept track of it anymore. It didn’t matter. Even when it was late, I knew better than to get my hopes up, so a missed cycle was hardly a thought.
“But—I can’t have children,” I stated, not yet willing to let my heart latch onto what she told me was true. I opened my eyes in search of hers and reminded her, “You told me—”
“I told you it would be extremely difficult if not impossible. I did not tell you it was entirely impossible. Now, what I know for certain is that your urine sample is unmistakably an indicator that you are pregnant. Not to mention the fatigue you complained about. Teddy,” she murmured through a kind smile, “Congratulations are in order. Now, I’ll be sure to have the nurse bring in some prenatal vitamins I’d like you to start taking right away; and you’ll need to schedule your ultrasound on your way out. The sooner, the better. Okay?”
She patted my knee and was halfway to the door when my shock started to melt into unadulterated fear. “Wait,” I blurted. “I drink wine. Two or three—three nights a week. And I drink coffee every single day. I didn’t—I didn’t know.”
Dr. Murphy gave me another smile before she assured me, “If you really are in your second trimester, and I’d wager you’re between thirteen or fourteen weeks along, then I’d say you should worry a little less. You’ve got a fighter inside of you. And now you do know, so you can make much more appropriate and informed decisions. We’ll know more on your next visit, Teddy. Stay positive. Staying positive is always good for the baby.”
Baby.
As soon as I was alone, I looked down at my belly—which looked and felt the same as it always did—and repeated the word over and over in my head.
Baby.
I was startled out of my thoughts when the nurse came in a couple minutes later. Not ten minutes after that, I was sitting behind the wheel of my car, staring out the windshield at the parking lot.
Baby.
I’d spent so long getting used to the idea that I’d never bear a child. The idea of a baby living inside of me at that moment felt unreal, and terrifying, and a million other things I couldn’t identify. I lost track of time as I sat in the heat of my car, fidgeting with the reminder card I held between my fingers—the reminder for my ultrasound appointment the following week. It wasn’t until my phone alerted me to an incoming text message that I realized I couldn’t just sit in the parking lot baking under the sun all afternoon.
Extracting my phone from my purse, my stomach immediately twisted in knots at the sight of Judah’s name across the screen. All the air in my lungs rushed out of me in a huff, as if reality itself had knocked the wind out of me. I didn’t open his message. Whatever he had to say wasn’t important. Whatever it was he had to say would mean nothing to either of us when I told him we’d made a baby he never asked for.
As if I had been backed into the corner of a boxing ring, I felt like I was being pummeled with one thing after another—one reason after another why this news was news for which neither of us were ready. The ink on the lease to his new office space was still wet. We had a realtor looking for our next house—a house that was going to be hundreds of miles away from anyone we knew. We were about to go head-first into uncharted territory.
A laugh bubbled out of me at the thought. I covered my mouth as the sound passed over my lips, but the laugh wouldn’t be stopped. I found it wildly hilarious that I thought a new business venture and a new life in a different state felt scary. It paled in comparison to the idea of becoming a mother. I laughed until I felt like crying, and then my phone rang.
I knew it was Judah without having to look, but I wasn’t ready to talk to him. I didn’t know how I was going to tell him. I didn’t know how he’d react or how he’d feel. Hell, I didn’t even know how I felt. It was that realization that made me burst into tears.
For a moment, I felt hysterical. My head was jumbled, and my heart felt like it had been extracted and somehow misplaced. I needed to get a grip—but I was having a meltdown in the parking lot of my doctor’s office.
Going home wasn’t an option. If I didn’t answer Judah’s calls, he’d look for me there first. I was sure of it. I was also equally as sure that I wasn’t ready to be found. When another idea popped into my head, I started my vehicle immediately. I breathed deeper the closer I got to my destination. As soon as I arrived, I didn’t waste a second before I hurried inside.
It was peaceful, and calm. I let the quiet engulf me as I made my way toward one of the empty pews near the back of the church. Though, as serene as the environment was, it didn’t stop my tears. It didn’t change the fact that I had somehow been granted a miracle, but instead of joy I was overwhelmed with fear.
For years, I wondered if I wanted children or if what I really wanted was the choice. Given that I believed neither option was available to me, it seemed not to matter. Even more, as one year turned into two and two years became three—Judah and I never discussed other options. So, I made up my mind that I would be the world’s greatest aunt and godmother, and I would love my husband with everything I had, and that would be that.
Now that the question was right in front of me—or, rather, living inside of me—it was like my whole world had become the exact opposite of what I knew. Not only could I bear a child, it was already happening. I didn’t have a choice. Suddenly, the question became, if I had known we were going to have a baby, would I have said yes to California? Would I have said yes to life as a new mom away fr
om my own mom, and my sister, and my mother-in-law? And just like before, the answer to such questions didn’t matter, because it was too late to ask them.
My phone rang for the second time, the ringtone echoing around me in the all but vacant church. I was quick to silence it, wholly aware that I couldn’t ignore my husband for much longer. Still, I needed more time. I needed to figure out how I felt, what I wanted, and how I was going to tell him.
I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. It took a few minutes before I felt calm enough to open my mind and confront my tangled thoughts and emotions. Then, one by one, I separated them, almost as if I were organizing them into piles of relevance. In the end, what was left were two questions. One for me and one for Judah. All the rest, everything else I felt, all the possible challenges that needed to be addressed, they would be handled only after the following two questions were answered.
Do I want this baby?
Does Judah want this baby?
With trembling fingers, I pressed my hands over my flat belly and thought about what was inside of me. Who was inside of me. My child. Our child. Inside of me was the one thing I thought I’d never be able to give him.
You’ve got a fighter inside of you.
I swallowed the knot in my throat as I reheard Dr. Murphy’s words. All at once, it occurred to me that she was right. Our baby was made with love—the most remarkable love I had ever known—a love so strong that it created a fighter. And I wanted our little fighter.
I wanted our little fighter more than anything.
Chapter Nineteen
His
It was after my third attempt to reach Teddy that she sent me a cryptic text message meant to placate me. I stared at my phone with a scowl and tried to read between the lines of her reply.