Dreamers (The Dreamers Series)

by Brooklin Skye

  “Breathe, Sydney.” She softly strokes my hair. “This is perfectly normal. Morning sickness can strike at any time of day.”

  This can NOT be happening.

  9

  Goodbye

  Awkward silence fills the car the majority of the ride home. You know, the kind where everyone is barely breathing as to not be the initiator of conversation. Nobody seems to know what to say. I think it’s the pregnancy thing, but that’s just a hunch. Cayden drives like a grandpa, exaggerating the mere distance of only ten miles to what feels like a road trip to Disney. For a doctor he sure does seem careful to not break me. Most doctors I’ve met are douches, but not my sweet Cayden. I guess he has no real way of knowing that the speed he is driving is the last thing he should be worried about. The only danger in this car is the silence, making me feel captive and isolated again. Being cooped up in a single room with zero communication for the last few weeks has revived a need for some form of interaction, even if it ends up being an uncomfortable conversation about the newest surprise in my life—the baby. While I’ve been completely blindsided by the news, the thought of having a baby is somehow—comforting. The knowledge that physics and science make this entire scenario impossible does cross my mind—heavily. It leaves me wondering if I’m dreaming. I pray I’m not. That would mean I’m still trapped in the dark room. Now that I’ve tasted freedom again I never intend to let it go. Unfortunately, I’m still trapped—yet in a very different way. He is still here waiting in the shadows of my mind…now, more than ever. I don’t know what the right thing is anymore. Even if he and I were still on good terms, what does this mean for the baby? Is it even human? These are only but a few of the overbearingly heavy questions racing through my mind, questions I have no way of answering.

  The image of a translucent baby keeps pushing its way into my brain, making me cringe. I push it back, for today anyway, there isn’t any room for additional thought in my head. The art of thinking clearly faded some time ago, forcing me to learn to how to avoid or alter my thoughts in a time of need—such as now. Between the baby and Dominick, I’m losing it quickly. I want him to go—I want him to stay.

  “Okay, guys, it’s off the charts awkward in here. I’ve been kidnapped for a month, and now I’m pregnant. Surely someone has something to say.”

  Mia takes the cue easily, as if she were waiting for me to speak first. Her face remains steady and her authoritative appearance shines through due to her tight ponytail and baby blue scrubs. She looks very professional. I only hope she doesn’t intend to shrink me. Normal conversation will do just fine.

  “Now that you mention it, Syd, I actually have something to say—well, not say, but ask. Since nobody else in this car wants to do it, I guess it’ll have to be me.” Mia pauses. “Who the baby daddy is?”

  “Why do you have to ask it all ghetto-like?” I smirk at her lame effort to sound young again.

  Cayden’s full lips pull up the corners into a faint smile. He eyes me curiously in the rear view mirror as he anticipates my response to Mia’s forward question.

  “Honestly, I feel awkward even having to ask. I’m your older sister, and I should know already. Not to mention, I don’t really know how to approach you right now. You’ve been through a lot. So I figured I would keep it light and humorous. Don’t act like you didn’t know it would come up sooner or later. Spill it.” She crosses her arms impatiently.

  “You wouldn’t believe me If I told you, Mia. It’s literally off the charts unbelievable.” I sigh with a hint of confusion. “I’m not sure I even believe it myself. Maybe your tests were wrong or somehow mixed up in the lab.”

  “Our tests were not messed up, Syd. Both your urine and blood tests show human growth hormone. I don’t think there is any question—you’re pregnant. The only thing that remains questionable is who put that baby in there. I’m assuming you know who the father is…right?” A questionable looks covers Mia’s face.

  “I know who the father is, fool! I just can’t believe YOU don’t. Figure it out. And I’m not a slut, in case you were wondering.”

  Cayden makes eye contact with me slowly. He’s already figured it out. Mia, on the other hand is clueless, which is surprising considering she is usually the first to decode even the most difficult of riddles. I can’t blame her entirely, as far as she knows the only living person I’ve been seeing lately is Heather—who obviously doesn’t have the right baby-making sauce. She doesn’t have much to work with—other than her imagination, which currently seems to be on hiatus. Still, she should have at least considered Nick as a possibility. I decide to throw her a bone—a small one.

  “Mia, why don’t you ask Uncle Cayden if he is comfortable with this conversation? Uterus’s and progesterone might be a touchy subject in the presence of man folk.”

  “Cayden is a doctor, Dear—this conversation is G-rated for him.” Her face goes white, finally absorbing the innuendos. “Wait—what? Uncle Cayden? You mean? That’s not possible—medically.”

  Cayden chimes in. His coming to my defense is something I’m becoming accustomed to.

  “With all due respect, Mia, it’s not exactly medically possibly for Dominick to be dating your sister either, or talking to us—or parading around people’s subconscious either. Sydney is trying to answer your question, don’t make this harder for her then it already is.”

  She still seems skeptical as she responds quietly to the new man in her life.

  “It makes no sense, Cayden. We went to medical school. You of all people should know better. Pregnancy is a physical change in your body, not mental. It’s not the same thing.”

  Rather than being insulted that Cayden believes me over my own sister, I do my best to be understanding of her reluctance. She is in the medical field—but so is Cayden, and he believes me.

  “If you don’t believe that it’s possible, then how do you explain the fact that I’m pregnant, yet I haven’t slept with anyone else—ever?”

  Cayden’s eyebrows lift once more in the rear view in shock.

  “You were a VIRGIN? Shut up! You are so lying, you’re in your twenties—that’s unheard of these days,” Mia screeches.

  “You don’t have to say it like that, Mia. This is humiliating enough without you announcing it to everyone in a five mile radius. I WAS a virgin, until Nick. And trust me, it wasn’t just mental, it was physical too—very much so.” I blush, knowing Cayden would likely prefer not to hear of his brother’s competence as a man. “Just forget for a moment that Nick is not exactly—alive. Medically speaking, if I told you Nick was the only person I’ve ever slept with and I’m pregnant, what conclusion would you draw from that?”

  “I would conclude that there is no medical doubt, Nick is the baby daddy.”

  “Ugh! Stop saying baby daddy! Nick is the father, without question. I have no flipping idea how this is possible, but it’s true. How can a human and a ghost procreate? This shit is—like—Sci-Fi channel worthy.”

  “No, Syd, I can’t even say I’ve seen this on TV. This is an original,” she chirps.

  “Dude, she did it with my brother… Sick.” Cayden laughs, trying to lighten the mood.

  The reality begins to set in. Mia picks at her cuticles as Cayden adds no further commentary for the moment. I realize this is a lot to absorb, so I get over my tiff about the lack of trust my sister has in me and move on. Who knows how I would react if she had told me the same news—possibly the exact way she did. In any event, she understands now. And I think she believes me—hopefully.

  “So I am going to be an aunt, and Cayden will be an uncle. This news is amazing, Sydney, and you have something to focus on—something beautiful and positive. I pray this will help your recovery process.”

  “I don’t need a recovery process. I’m alive—the end. I’m grateful. I don’t know how I feel about—IT, yet.”

  “I hate calling it an it. Let’s nickname the fetus.” Mia breaks with a refreshed tone in her voice.

  “IT sounds be
tter than fetus, you reject.” I laugh loudly as Mia giggles a bit.

  “She’s only approaching a month pregnant. She has plenty of time to sort through all that. Don’t overwhelm her,” Cayden chimes in protectively.

  In a way I kind of agree with Mia. Giving the baby a nickname might not be a bad thing, it could possibly help me identify it as human—or something kind of like it. If I’m going to be referring to it, then he or she needs a temporary name. I ponder on it for a moment, and then it hits me.

  “Its name will be Little Monster—since its half ghost and all.”

  “That’s awful, Sydney, I don’t like it!” Mia scowls.

  “Aww, come on, babe, Little Monster is perfect. Dominick will really love that nickname. Uncle Cayden definitely approves.” He winks at me in the mirror.

  I love the way Cayden and I are becoming closer and building an alliance. He’s like the awesome older brother I never had, someone to guard me from bad guys, and pushy older sisters. I love Mia to the moon and back, but she can be so bossy. I would say it’s the mother in her, but no—she’s always been bossy even prior to giving birth to her spawn.

  “You two are horrible. That little sweetie is no monster. How about Tater-tot?” Mia suggests.

  “Um, no, that’s lame. It’s MY monster, so I’ll stick with the name I chose. You’re out numbered anyway, two to one—Little Monster it is.”

  As Cayden and Mia go back and forth on the reasons why I should or should not call my child a monster, I allow my mind to float to a place it’s been avoiding like the plague—Nick. He has the right to know about the baby. Or does he? According to Nick, the love we made to create this child was never love at all. He used me long enough for his real girlfriend, Lana, to come back to him. This knowledge makes me question if he has any right to know at all. Why should he enjoy the thought that a little part of him grows inside me, that his soul is not lost, but alive and thriving within my womb? Why should I allot him that peace of mind after he crushed me so heartlessly? For all I know, he might not even care about the baby, whether it’s a part of him or not. After the amount of loss I’ve experienced at his expense, I won’t let him hurt my child. I suppose there is an attachment growing for this baby, even after only having known for an hour. The lioness within me won’t let him or anyone else hurt my Little Monster—ever.

  Mia snaps me from my reverie with more questions, this time bringing Heather into the conversation, another person that has been circling my mind since I saw her for the first time in ages yesterday. She looked so lost and sad. I want to work things out with her. After losing everything and never knowing from day to day if I would ever see anybody again, I have a new appreciation for the people in my life. I don’t know what went wrong with her, but I know Heather is a good person. She had to have had a good reason for having Nick’s bracelet, I’m certain of it. As for her assault on me, that was MY fault, not hers. I’m ready to fix this mess. She’s too important to lose. I still love her.

  “I still don’t understand why you won’t just come home with me, Sydney. Cayden and I can collect your things from Heather’s place this weekend. I don’t get why you would even want to see her again after the bracelet incident and especially after she left you there with that crazy Lana girl.”

  I wonder what Mia would think if she knew how my brilliant seduction plot turned out? I chew the inside of lip anticipating it to come up in the next lineup of questions. I’ll lie if it does, even though I hate hiding things from her. But honestly, the last thing I need is to listen to hours of lecture on why I should never have done it, why I will never do it again, and why I shouldn’t go home. After everything I just went through, she just assumes that I should be frightened of my own shadow or run away, cowering. That’s not really the case at all. I do want to move, but it’s not because I am afraid of Heather; it’s because I can’t live with Nick. It’s still too hard. I miss him. I’m not strong enough to resist the urge to run to him, even though he’s a horrible person. That’s what love does to you, makes you accept less than you deserve. I won’t be that stupid again. I need to stay away from him—but I love him. It’s a matter of forcing myself through it, just like I willed myself through every minute of being in that dark room. If I can get through that, I can somehow get through letting Nick go—I think.

  “Heather’s fine, Mia. Let me worry about it. I can get my things together pretty quickly and be out within a few days. I have a few loose ends to tie up.”

  “Well, we are walking you in. I want to make sure Heather knows the rules,” Mia says.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. This is worse than that time Daddy came to school and threatened Bruce Myers after he yanked my ponytail. I’m grown now, Mia. I don’t need my sister fighting my battles for me. I know you mean well, but it’s unnecessary. Heather’s harmless.”

  She looks slightly hurt. Although, I know she understands where I’m coming from. Mia is the most independent person I know. She certainly wouldn’t have anyone fussing over her the way she’s fussing over me right now. At least Cayden seems to know his place and remains silent as he carefully parks his silver Mercedes in the apartment garage.

  On the way in I notice Heather’s truck parked in its usual spot—she’s home. I insert my key into the knob, turning it and pushing the door open. The first thing I notice is the lack of light. Everything is turned off aside from a fire roaring in the fireplace. Heather is sitting on the couch perfectly still, mindless of our presence. The TV is off, no music plays in the background. The only noise to be heard is crackling logs keeping the fire ablaze. Mia stops to talk to Heather while I go straight to my room, closing the door. My sister obviously didn’t listen to a word I said, and that makes me angry. I’ve had enough confrontation in the last few weeks to supply me for a lifetime. Still, I eavesdrop to see what she’s saying, making sure she doesn’t take it too far. I’m too tired to want to intervene, but I will if I have to.

  “If you so much as go near that door, I will personally bury you. Understand, Heather?” she spits.

  “Yes,” Heather whispers sadly. “Mia, I wouldn’t hurt Sydney. You know me.”

  My stomach aches under my skin as Heather’s defeated and scolded tone hits me like a sucker punch. It kills me to hear her sad.

  “No, Heather, I thought I knew you,” Mia snarls.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt her. I know I got a little too rough. But I never would have gone through with it—I know myself.”

  “Whoa, wait just a second, Heather. This is news to me. What the hell do you mean you got too rough? What exactly did you do to my sister?”

  Sweat beads on my forehead, and I begin to pace. I hope Heather keeps her mouth shut. I don’t want Mia to find out about what happened that night, and I especially don’t want her to find out like this. She’ll rip Heather apart in there, and Cayden might too. I close my eyes bracing myself for a fight to break out. I consider going out there to stop this before it escalates, but I hear Heather respond. I stop and listen closely with my ear against the door.

  “Talk to Sydney. If she didn’t tell you, then I guess she has her reasons. I’m not going to betray her by telling you something she doesn’t want you to know.”

  “Okay, Heather. I will. My sister won’t hide things from me.”

  She storms away from Heather and knocks heavily at the door, demanding I let her in. The only way I’m getting out of this conversation is by lying. I see a trashcan near my desk, which inspires the I’m sick idea.

  “Mia, I’m vomiting again. I’m tired, and I want to go to bed. Go home please, and let me rest,” I lie.

  Mia reluctantly agrees from the opposite side of my bedroom door, while Cayden reiterates that he can be here is less than five minutes if I need him.

  “Thanks guys, I’ll call you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

  I figure it’s safe as I hear the front door squeak to a close, leaving Heather and I alone in the apartment for the first time since that night.

 
; The phony rasp I threw into my voice has actually made my throat dry and scratchy. I want a glass of tea, but that means facing Heather. I wait for a minute, trying to swallow spit as a substitute. It’s not working, yet only makes it worse. I’m aware that there will be a point when I will have to leave this room anyway, so I might as well get it over with now. I feel the need to apologize to Heather for Mia’s attack, as well as for my own mistakes. I don’t know where to begin, I’m truly terrified that she hates me. The thought of her shunning me turns my stomach, leaving me nauseous and weak again. I don’t want to live without her as my best friend. I wish we could just go back to the days when things were uncomplicated. I’m so lost in thought that I startle as I hear a light tap at my door. She has come to me first. Thank god. Wait, what if she’s here to tell me to leave? The thought makes my heart stop briefly. The best way to find out is simply to ask. Like a Band-Aid, I just get it over with.

  “Heather, do you want me to leave? If so, I can call Cayden to pick me up,” I call from behind the door.

  “Leave? No, Sydney.” She sounds insulted that I would ask such a question. “Actually, I found something on the counter in the kitchen when I came home yesterday. I grabbed it before anyone saw it and put it in my truck until the police left. It was addressed to you so I wanted to respect your privacy and make sure nobody else got their hands on it.”

  “What is it?” I ask cautiously.

  “It’s a letter. From—Lana.” She slips it under the door.

  My fingers begin to tremble instantly. Anger screams, and I hate myself for letting Lana’s presence, even just through a letter, intimidate me to the point that I’m shaking. I open the door. I need to see her face, the face that has comforted me so many times in my life. Her glasses are off, she’s been crying. I can’t stop myself as I reach my hand through the crack of the door, swiping my thumb underneath her big brown eye, catching a final tear.

  “Uh—thanks, Syd. Allergies are starting to kick up a little.” She tugs at the collar of her lime green polo, unsuccessfully attempting to use it as an eye cloth.