The Baby Package

by Sarah J. Brooks

  He just gave me a wink and clicked a button on the remote and the doors of the car automatically lifted skyward.

  “Get in.” His face was bright with excitement.

  “Okay,” I got in and he turned on the car, immediately I felt the seats warm. “It must be nice to have so much money,” I teased him.

  “It has its advantages,” he said as the doors came down on us. He clicked another button and the door to the garage lifted, as clumps of snow fell to the ground.

  “Do we need to go shovel that?” I asked innocently.

  “Nope.” He revved the engine and we blasted right over the snow.

  “Helluva car!” I was in awe.

  It took us about twenty minutes to get to Gramps and Lydia’s house and as soon as we pulled up in the driveway, I saw Lydia peeking through the flowered curtains. I really wasn’t sure what I was doing bringing a billionaire who’d locked himself away on the mountain home to Lydia and Gramps. I was clearly insane. I planned to blame it on the hormones one day.

  “I have to tell you before we go in there, my Gramps is an asshole.” I felt it best to warn him.

  “Imogen!” he protested playfully.

  “No really, he’s a total and complete jerk, but he’s nice deep down inside. You have to really dig, but it’s there. Just giving you a heads up.” I winked and scooted out of the car as soon as the doors lifted.

  Chapter 25

  Dash

  I couldn’t believe I agreed to this. I hadn’t seen another person other than Imogen and the delivery guys in over a year. Something had clicked over in my brain and suddenly I couldn’t stand the cabin. I needed to get out and get away from the pain and the horrible memories my incarceration had brought me.

  Imogen was right; I could fight these men. I had the law on my side and I’d lawyer up so hard they wouldn’t know what hit them. Mark had taken everything from me and was constantly threatening the last thing I had left: my cure. But somewhere in a hospital sat a little girl or boy fighting to stay alive one more day; I needed to live for that child. In my own home, were two children who were forgetting their father; I needed to live for them. And I had an unborn child who just might have a chance at a normal life; I needed to live for that child too, but most importantly I needed to live for me. But first steps had to be baby steps. I took a deep breath of cold mountain air and braced myself to meet Imogen’s grand people.

  “You ready for this?” she asked as she grabbed my hand.

  “As I’ll ever be.” While my mind was resolved, my body shook a little at the thought of actually doing this.

  Imogen knocked on the door and a large, gray-haired woman answered it with an enormous smile.

  “Jeni, dear,” her puffy arms wrapped around Imogen in what I assumed was their customary greeting.

  “I hope you don’t mind I brought a friend along for dinner. He’s a colleague of mine,” Imogen explained as Lydia’s face lit up like the Fourth of July.

  “Why of course, the more the merrier,” Lydia said with a lilt in her voice. “Good thing I made my famous pot roast tonight; there’s always tons left over,” she said as she waddled into the house.

  “Who is it?” Gramps yelled from his chair in the corner.

  He was covered with a blanket and looked small and frail, but his spirit seemed as big as life. He was one to watch out for.

  “It’s a friend Jeni brought over,” Lydia yelled back.

  “See, people call me Jeni, because it’s my name, Dashell,” she said, giving me crazy eyes.

  I just laughed. I guess I’d hate it if someone insisted on calling me Dashell, touché… but I wasn’t going to stop. Imogen was a beautiful, spirited woman who I was falling in love with. Jeni was the girl next door and Imogen was no girl next door, that’s for sure.

  “Looks like a homeless guy, kick him out,” her grandfather said as he went back to watching football on the massive flat screen TV.

  “Sorry,” Imogen winced.

  “No worries, we’re interrupting his game,” I nodded to the TV.

  “Football is his thing, I think he spent his entire retirement fund on that TV,” she smiled her gorgeous smile.

  “Well, dinner is almost ready. Can I interest you in a glass of white zinfandel or a wine cooler?” Lydia asked. Oh, my.

  “Lydia, remember I bought that case of Kendall Jackson Chardonnay for Gramps’ ninetieth birthday party, do you still have that in the garage fridge?” Imogen to the rescue.

  “Sure, I think we have at least four or five bottles in there. Liam and I never drink the stuff.” Lydia remarked as she pulled a pot roast out of the oven that was so big it could’ve fed a family of twelve. No wonder there were always so many leftovers.

  The aromas filling the house smelled so good. It was a home, not a fortress. It reminded me that people lived in homes; they didn’t hide out from bad guys, they saved white zinfandel for their guests and ate food that made your heart beat. This was life, and for a year I’d neglected to live mine.

  “We’ll have dinner in just a few minutes. Why don’t you two wash up,” Lydia suggested as she fired up an electric knife and started cutting the meat.

  Imogen giggled when Lydia mentioned “washing up.” We were notorious for being quite naughty while washing, so I could see why she felt the need to laugh with embarrassment.

  When we were all finally seated at the table Gramps grumbled that his piece of meat was too tough.

  “Oh nonsense, it’s fine,” Lydia brushed him off and cut the rest of the pieces for him, “Now don’t choke on it, you need to chew.”

  I shivered to think that might’ve been Imogen and I in a few years, but laughed because inevitably, it would. As we were eating and talking amiably with one another, having a great time, Gramps blurted out, spraying pieces of unchewed meat with his announcement, “So you are the fella who got Jeni pregnant? You should learn to keep your pecker in your pants, son.” He then used a quivering hand that could barely hold a fork to stab at another piece of meat.

  It was horrible and horribly funny, Imogen and I both burst out laughing as Lydia managed an uncomfortable chuckle.

  “Well Gramps, I’m not quite sure how to answer your question other than to assure you, your granddaughter is in good hands,” I managed to say between my chuckles.

  “We don’t need no deadbeat dads at our dinner table,” Gramps said, getting a little edgier.

  “Liam!” Lydia scolded. “That is no way to treat our guest.”

  Her face turned a few shades redder and I could tell she was dying of embarrassment, but Gramps had hit the nail on the head. It was my pecker that had done the deed although I wasn’t planning on being a deadbeat dad, but an absentee one… And that’s when it hit me. Absentee father.

  There really was nothing worse than that, being alive, being able to care for your children and choosing not to. That’s what I was in every sense of the definition and that’s when it hit me; I needed to go home immediately. I needed to be a father to my children. It wasn’t my sister’s job to give up her life for me. It was my responsibility to face my future and if there were bad guys in it, I’d have to do my best to fight them.

  “Sir, I promise I will not be an absentee father or a deadbeat dad. I’m sure words are useless to you, but I assure you, your granddaughter and your great-grandchild will be well cared for,” I made an oath to him and I meant every word.

  Imogen sensed the change in me and gave me a quizzical look, which I met with a smile. Things were going to change. She’d see soon enough.

  Despite the awkward start, we settled into a pretty good conversation about the storm and Imogen’s work with kids, which was refreshing. I loved hearing about all the great things she was doing since I’m sure she wouldn’t say them about herself.

  I ate way too much, but the food was delicious. Gramps didn’t look so hot when Lydia wheeled him into his room, but Imogen wasn’t worried, saying Gramps was too stubborn to die. He’d live for some time more
because he had to live long enough to flag his middle finger at the doctors who predicted he’d be dead already.

  We cleaned up the dishes, put them away and shuffled off to Imogen’s room which looked like a throwback to the nineties. Luckily, her bed was at least a double. We barely fit… good thing we liked one another.

  That night when the house was silent and dark, Imogen and I made love as quietly as we could so as not to wake up the family, especially not Gramps. I actually feared I’d be given a stern talking to and punishment if I got caught, so we made sure not to get caught. It was fun and wild and perfect.

  We both bit our lips to stifle the sounds of our ecstasy, curled into each other’s arms and slept very soundly. It was a perfectly peaceful sleep and solidified for me my next move. I’d packed an overnight bag with the basic things I’d need. I would have to buy more and eventually sort out the cabin, but I needed a break from my high-tech prison and carrying that bag with just the most essential items and with Imogen by my side felt like the perfect expression of freedom.

  We said our goodbyes to Imogen’s family and she promised to be up the following week. I’m sure she expected me to drive her down the mountain and help her get a car home, but when we hit the highway I kept driving.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, her face looking bewildered and confused.

  “It’s time you met my family,” I said with a straight face and a dry expression.

  Her jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

  Chapter 26

  Jeni

  I knew my hormones were making me emotionally crazy, but this was insane.

  “What? Dash, this isn’t a good idea. I mean it is for you, it’s a great idea, amazing, but I shouldn’t be there.” My head was all over the place.

  I wasn’t ready to meet his family. They didn’t even know he was alive. This was going to be the worst/best, most awkward moment in his life. I was the random chick he fucked for a few days. He was their father and brother. He needed this, not me.

  “You were the one who saved me, of course, you should be there,” Dash said with conviction as his hand white-knuckled the wheel, navigating the Tesla through the snowy streets.

  “I don’t have to meet them on the first day you’re home. You should have some time alone with them; they’re going to be so shocked to see you. This is a huge thing you’re doing, Dash.” He was being a little irrational just showing up like that, but how else would he show up under these circumstances?

  “I want them to know you, Imogen. You’re an important part of our lives.” He seemed so determined, I didn’t want to argue with him any further.

  It didn’t take long before he was pulling into the driveway of the biggest house on the street. I’d seen large houses before, but his sprawled across two lots and was at least three stories tall. “Wow, you live here?” I asked, too in awe to make my question any less garish.

  “I used to, let’s hope I still do,” he said with a gorgeous smile as he turned off the engine. He never struck me as an impulsive man, and yet there he was doing the most impetuous thing I’d ever seen.

  “Okay, we’re doing this.” Suddenly, I realized I was going to meet his family and there wasn’t anything I could do to stop it.

  A rush of nausea overwhelmed me, and I almost hurled on the driveway, but I took a few deep stabilizing breaths and got my wits about me. I could do this. I was a psychologist, I knew people and how their minds worked; I could just shift into doctor mode and use my coping skills to keep from passing out.

  I rounded the car and stood by his side. For the first time since he announced we were meeting his family, his face looked stressed.

  “You can do this,” I whispered in his ear as I took his hand in mine.

  And he could, this was his family and returning to them was the right thing to do.

  “I can,” he said gathering his confidence as he rang the doorbell.

  As soon as the doorbell rang the camera over the door made a whirring noise and a few minutes later a man wearing a black suit opened the door. I immediately saw the gun by his side. I was happy the house had armed security, but it didn’t stop my heart from exploding with fear.

  “May I speak with Gloria Rye, please,” Dash said. “Tell her it’s her brother.”

  When he said this, the man’s eyes widened with shock.

  “Yes, sir.” His voice had an official tone as he closed the door on us.

  It didn’t seem to bother Dash. Perhaps he was happy they were following a security protocol by not inviting us in, however, it was really cold outside and I was starting to shiver.

  We waited a while for someone to come back. I think both of us wanted to say something, and yet neither of us did. We stood there with baited silence… waiting until we heard a commotion inside.

  The door flew open and a tall woman with long brown hair and a glowing smile opened the door. There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation, she threw her arms wide and attacked Dash with a monstrous bear hug.

  “Oh my God, Oh my God….” she said over and over again as the two of them held each other and swung from side to side.

  It was such a touching reunion, I found myself feeling teary, and yet, I was teary just washing the dishes; pregnancy hormones were crazy makers. But it was genuinely amazing to see the love between the two of them. In that moment, I was thrilled for Dash, he was going to live again and seeing the adoration his sister was sharing with her enthusiastic embrace proved his life was worth living, despite the risks.

  The stayed in a long embrace and when I glanced over at the door, I saw two small faces peering back at me. Both of the children were exquisitely beautiful as if they were almost unreal. They watched their Auntie’s reunion with quiet, confused faces.

  I wanted to rush over to them and scoop them into my arms, but it wasn’t my place, so I offered a kind and loving smile, which brought two polite grins. It was at that time that Dash broke away from his sister and regarded his children.

  His sister, noticing the awkwardness his children were feeling helped bridge the gap.

  “Junior, Alley, I know this is a little strange, but we have some very big news to share with you. Why don’t we all go inside and we’ll explain everything,” she said as her wide arms scooped up the children and ushered them indoors.

  I stood there for a moment, not sure of what to do. I really felt out of place and as if I didn’t belong here, not at such an important time. I was just someone Dash fucked in a cabin for a few days. They were his family, they were his life. Essentially, I was now his family too, but our child was simply a product of our nights together. We barely knew one another. I could’ve easily slipped away. I didn’t necessarily want to be a single parent, but I knew I could. My father did it and I learned from him how to provide for a family, however, I wouldn’t cast my child off for a newer, better family. I put my hand on my belly and vowed not to repeat his mistake.

  Just at that moment, Dash took my hand. “Imogen,” he said in a deep and commanding voice, “come meet our family.”

  His words were powerful and overwhelming. I followed him into the house which was even more grand and gorgeous inside than it was on the outside. We sat in the living room and listen to his sister Gloria, explain to the children how their father was still alive.

  The kids were excited, but wary, as they’d grieved the death of both of their parents and suddenly one returns to them—it was going to take much more than an afternoon to understand the enormity of their feelings.

  There was no way I wanted to complicate that by being the woman who was bearing a sibling with the father who’d only just returned. I was introduced as a close friend of Dash and the one who convinced him to rejoin his family. At that moment, I was being regarded by all as a hero, and yet all I felt was that I was an intruder.

  We were served a lovely lunch and I could tell Dash was looking forward to some private time with his children who wanted to show him their rooms, their treasures and their ac
complishments after having warmed up to the idea of having their father back.

  I knew Dash would insist on taking me home, so I excused myself to the restroom. I could barely see through my tears, which were at that moment very genuine as I wrote my goodbye letter.

  I set the letter on the dining room table and quietly called an Uber to pick me up. The security guard who answered the door saw me. I gave him a smile and thanked him for taking care of the family, acting like my leaving was no big deal.

  When the Uber driver came, my heart was splintered. I felt happy I made it out of the house without being detected or having to have an awkward moment in front of Dash’s family and yet, I was also sad I was leaving as this most likely was my final goodbye.

  Dash could do some sleuthing to find me, but I hoped he wouldn’t; he needed his life back and I wanted him to focus on that. I was just a complication at best. I knew Mountain Man Dash and most likely he’d never be that man again. So, when I got home to my comfortable apartment, I felt like I’d closed the binding on a short but life-altering book.

  Now, it was time to write my own story as a single mother. Dash had left me plenty of money and I planned to continue working. I practiced saying, “Things just didn’t work out with the baby’s father…” and tucked myself in to binge-watch something on Netflix. This was going to be my new normal; missing a man I barely knew, while preparing to parent his child alone.

  I wished I could say I didn’t think of him every minute of the day, but he didn’t call so I pat myself on the back for being right about him. He had his family back. He didn’t need me, our child, or anything else.

  It was sad, but at times reality is sad. I was a big girl, I told myself I could handle it… and I could, but I didn’t want to. After six episodes of This is Us, there was a knock at the door. It was a little past eight o’clock in the evening and my heart started to race.

  Could it be Dash? It was unlikely; he’d be still swept up with his family. Was it one of the drug cartel coming to kill me? I truly hoped not. Most likely it was the neighbor giving me a piece of mail they’d got by mistake. We must’ve had a very loopy new mailman, or my neighbor was lonely. Either way, I dreaded answering the door, but I dragged myself to do it because there was a tiny, remote chance it was Dash.