by Autumn Grey
“I do now, but I’m the one following her around.” He twists around, his eyes going soft when they find me. “That pretty girl over there.”
Melt.
Matthew studies me for a few seconds, then smiles shyly, displaying one missing front tooth. “She’s pretty.”
“Yes,” Nate murmurs, still watching me. “She is.”
The discussion ends when Matthew’s focus shifts to the Nintendo DS in his hands.
After we’ve all settled around the table, Nate’s hand automatically finds mine and gives me a squeeze, his eyes roaming over my face fondly. He doesn’t need to tell me I’m beautiful because I can see it in his eyes, the sincerity in them screaming like a thousand suns. And he doesn’t seem to care who knows it.
Conversation flows as I sit back and just enjoy being here, the nerves I was feeling before fading. Bennett eventually shows up from his trip to town to get his wife jalapeño pizza, her favorite. Then he excuses himself and heads upstairs to make some calls about a property he’s looking to buy in Miami to open another restaurant.
Grace excuses herself and walks to the kitchen to start preparing the food. I’m about to stand up and follow her, wanting to help, when Nate’s fingers move to my knee to stop me. Then, he stands up and joins his mother in the kitchen.
Izzy pulls herself up and takes Nate’s seat. “You’re not much of a talker, are you?” Izzy nudges me with her elbow, smiling.
“Not really, but I could be. Just pour me some wine and you’ll see my chattier side come out to play,” I joke, then laugh nervously.
She chuckles, sitting back in her chair and wincing a little.
“When is the baby due?” I ask
“A week from now. I’m huge, aren’t I? Just tell me the truth. We’re like friends now, you know.” She stares at me expectantly with big blue eyes.
I press my lips together to stop from laughing, then clear my throat. “You look gorgeous, Izzy.”
She rolls her eyes. “I feel like a whale, but thank you for making me feel better.” She flips the pizza box open and grabs a piece from inside, then takes a huge bite and hums in delight. “God, I love Bennett. And jalapeño pizza. Want some?”
I shake my head. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Good choice. Pregnant Izzy doesn’t share pizza.”
I snort. “Then why did you ask?”
“I was just being polite and trying to be a good host.” She winks at me, and I burst out laughing.
“So you and Nate, huh? Is it serious?”
I try to read her, but it’s difficult when she’s wolfing down pizza and smiling at me like I’m her best friend in the whole world. I shamelessly love that look. “What has your brother told you?”
“He’s been overly quiet about you two. We can’t get him to stop smiling these days. He walks around like he knows a secret none of us are in on. And I want in, so, tell me,” she prompts.
I shrug. “We’re just hanging out.”
She rolls her eyes and snorts. “Riiiight. Nate doesn’t just hang out. He wouldn’t have even bothered to be with you if he didn’t like you. He’s a Rowe. Once we set eyes on someone, we never let go. They’re it for us. We don’t just like or hangout, Elon. We claim. My brother claimed you the second he laid eyes on you.”
I suck in a breath, my heart beating fast. Deep down, I know she’s right.
I’ve gotten to know Nate. He’s intense, determined and extremely focused when he puts his mind toward pursuing something.
“He told me you know about Camille?” she asks in a hushed, reverent tone. I nod. “So you know he still blames himself. He’s stubborn. He needs to work this out on his own and learn to forgive himself, even though what happened was an accident. Just be there for him. Be his guiding light.”
“Izzy. . .don’t you guys disapprove of him dating a student?”
She laughs, her entire body shaking with it. “Mom almost burst a vein when Nate introduced you as his student—” She stops talking, her face turning pale. Then, she drops the pizza crust in her hands onto the table and bends over, breathing hard. “Shit! Fucking shit shit shit!”
“Izzy!” Grace chastises her daughter in exasperation.
Matthew’s head jerks up from his Nintendo, his eyes wide. “Mama said a bad word!”
“Mom. . . something is wrong.” Izzy clutches her tummy and begins to breathe in and out fast. “I think the baby—is—uggghh!”
Grace and Nate hurry into the living room and rush to Izzy’s side. Grace waves to Nate and instructs calmly, “Run upstairs and get her bag, honey. Tell Bennett we need to leave now.”
“Is Mommy okay?” Kaylie comes running into the room, her eyes wide, terrified.
Not sure of what to do, I pull her to me and reassure her. “Don’t worry sweetie, your mommy will be okay.” I’m not sure how much Bennett and Izzy have told their kids about this baby, but when I see her eyes swimming in tears, I pull her tiny body to me in a hug and reassure her that everything is going to be okay.
Nate returns downstairs with Bennett in tow. Bennett freezes, panic settling in his features as he takes in his wife’s flushed face. “We still have a week before the baby comes. Are you sure—”
“Bennett,” she grits between her clenched jaw, taking two deep breaths, then narrows her eyes at her husband. “You’re not going to do that thing you do, are you?”
Bennett’s gaze snaps up to Izzy’s as she straightens. “Come on, baby. Don’t be like that. I have grown a lot since the last time it happened.”
I glance at Nate, who seems to be holding back a grin, and whisper, “What thing?”
Nate puts a hand over his mouth to hide a grin and clears his throat. “Passing out during the birth of his children. They had to carry him out of the room on a gurney.”
I press my lips tight and look away, the image of Bennett fainting stuck inside my head.
“Shut up.” Bennett glares at his brother-in-law, but I see his lips twitch with a smile. He mutters, “I thought I was going to lose Izzy both times. Baby, you know I’d wither and die without you,” he says to Izzy.
Nate chuckles and slaps Bennett on his shoulder on the way to the door.
Grace scoops up the kids, and we all pour out the front door, hurrying to our respective vehicles.
Bennett helps Izzy into the passenger seat of his truck while Grace buckles Matthew and Kaylie into their car seats inside her Ford.
We arrive at the hospital in under ten minutes, and soon the nurses are taking Izzy in a wheelchair into the delivery ward while Bennett fills out the forms.
Grace’s forehead crinkles in worry as she watches them wheel Izzy away with Nate on their heels.
“I can stay with them while you go with Izzy and Nate since Bennett is busy,” I tell Grace, reassuringly.
She shakes her head. “We will wait together. Nate will let us know what’s going on.”
“Is he allowed to go in there?”
She chuckles. “Nothing in this world could stop him. He has always been there for her, even when he moved to Chicago.”
We settle on the plastic chairs in the waiting room and wait. When Bennett is done, he nods to us then sprints toward the doors that swallowed Izzy and Nate.
I steal glances at Grace holding a sleeping Kaylie in her arms, digging around my head for something to say. But it’s a useless effort. I can’t even come up with small talk to save my life.
Beside me, Matthew, wrapped up in his own world, nods and kicks his legs as he watches Pokémon in Japanese.
Frustrated, I roll my eyes and take a deep breath. We have to talk at some point. Right now, with nothing to do other than listen to women screaming in pain whenever the doors open, this seems like a great opportunity to talk.
Six months ago, I’d have excused myself and ran off to avoid facing the elephant in the room. Now I remember Amber’s words: fight for the fairy tale. They fuel me on as I clear my throat and shift slightly, angling my body to Grace’s.
Grace studies me with pinched brows and pursed lips for a few moments, then shakes her head. “I’m worried for both of you. You seem like a very nice girl. And from the way Nathaniel and you look at each other, you’re in too deep. It would be so much easier under different circumstances.
“Your life has hardly begun. My son is just getting back on his feet after the accident. The teacher in me agrees that it’s wrong for you to be involved, but I’m his mother, as well. Seeing Nathaniel smile after going through such a painful time in his life is everything I’ve been wanting for him.”
She blinks and then looks away, but not before I see her eyes gleaming with tears. She wipes her cheek with her palm before turning back to face me with a watery smile.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been accommodating. I’m just caught between what is ethically correct and what I want for my son.”
Swallowing hard, I cover her hand with mine. “Nate is a wonderful man with a big heart, if you look beyond the scowls and glares,” I add the latter with a chuckle. “I never thought I’d end up feeling the way I do about him.”
Grace holds my gaze as she asks, “You love him?” From the neutrality in her voice, I can’t tell if she’s testing me or just curious.
I nod, feeling my eyes start to burn with tears and my chest swell with the feelings I have for Nate.
“Have you told him?” Again, the tone.
I shake my head and drop my gaze to my heels. “I’m scared.” I wet my lips, ready to confess my inner fears to the woman who gave birth to a wonderful man. “I’m scared of failing at love. I know Camille was his big love and I’m not trying to fill in her shoes—”
“You won’t be filling her shoes. Nathaniel and I have been talking a lot—or rather arguing a lot,” she chuckles. “—Since I met you at his place,” she admits hesitatingly. “True, Camille was Nathaniel’s first love. But you gave him back things he thought he’d lost. Hope. Love. A reason to smile. My son thinks with his heart and not his head.”
My heart is racing now as I worry my bottom lip between my teeth. When she doesn’t continue talking, I look up and find her staring down at Kaylie in her arms as if in contemplation.
I clear my throat, and her gaze meets mine. “You said you attended one of my mother’s performances.” Immediately, her face breaks into a stunning smile as she nods. “How was she? Did you get a chance to meet her personally?”
Growing up, my mother never talked about her life before she met my dad. It was almost like taboo. I remember one time Elise asked her if she had pictures from any of her performances. Mom quickly shut down and went back to ignoring everything and everyone after that. Nor filled us in on some details of our mom’s life, which she had acquired from my grandmother before she passed away. My mother’s parents and her sister, Sabine, died in a cabin fire during winter years ago. We stopped asking her questions after that.
Grace shakes her head. “She was magnificent on stage.” She continues to tell me about how she’d followed Mom’s career, hoping that one day she would get a chance to attend another performance by The Swan.
Almost an hour later, the doors leading to the delivery room swing open. Nate steps out wearing a blue overcoat on top of his grey, long-sleeved Henley and dark blue jeans. I jump to my feet, and Grace leans forward as he shakes his head while wiping the sheen of sweat across his dark brow.
“Is she okay?” I ask, wringing my hands.
“Ben’s out,” he announces, wincing as he lifts his right arm outward slightly, then looks at me. “She’s asking for you.”
“Me?” I squeak, my eyes widening, then blurt out, “Are you sure?”
“She’s chanting your name like you’re the birthing deity or something.”
I look at Grace. “Mrs. Rowe—”
“Please call me Grace.” She nods toward the automatic doors, smiling softly. “Go.”
Our gazes lock for a few seconds, and in them, I see acceptance.
“Thank you,” I mutter under my breath, overwhelmed and grateful, but I know she heard those words when she subtly nods, offering me a small smile. I smooth my hands on my dress and turn to face my boyfriend. “Let’s do this.”
Nate’s eyes dart from his mother to me as if sensing the shift between us. “You sure?”
“Yeah.” I breeze past him confidently. “Let’s go.”
“That’s my girl,” he rumbles behind me in approval.
I walk in just as a couple of nurses wheel Bennett out on a gurney with an oxygen mask strapped on his face. A nurse hands me a similar overcoat like the one Nate’s wearing. Moments later, I’m standing at Izzy’s right side with her hand gripping mine tightly. I bite my lip to stop wincing and peek at Nate across from me.
She breathes a couple of breaths before letting out a blood-curdling scream.
Holy shit. Is this normal? No wonder Bennett passed out.
I’ve never really thought about having children, but after seeing Izzy in so much pain, I’m leaning toward never giving birth.
I’m not sure how much time passes when suddenly the doctor starts cheering Izzy on, urging her to push. Then the sound of a baby crying fills the room, and the doctor announces way too cheerfully, “It’s a girl!”
Minutes later, the baby is cleared as healthy, and Izzy’s holding her in her arms swaddled in blankets, tears streaming down her face.
Nate leans down to kiss her forehead, then gently combs the dark curls on the baby’s head. “She’s beautiful, sis.”
“I know,” Izzy whispers in a wobbly voice and kisses one rosy cheek, then pulls back to stare at the cute little pink face with little black curls framing her face. “Welcome to the world, Harper. I wish Bennett was here right now.”
“He’s awake. The doctor just wants to check his vitals before they bring him in,” Nate says.
I try to speak around the lump in my throat, congratulate Izzy, but I’m too close to sobbing in joy, which would be embarrassing. Despite watching Izzy writhe in pain and swearing off ever giving birth again, my heart is just so full it could burst. This has been the most wonderful and scary experience I’ve ever had. I add it on my mental bucket list, then check it off.
How would it feel, holding our baby in my arms?
I peek at Nate, and for once, I allow hope to fill my veins as I imagine my life with him.
“Do you want to hold her?” Izzy asks me, but I’m a bit scared.
What if I drop her? Harper looks so tiny. I don’t remember Cora and Joce being so small.
I shake my head. “Maybe later.”
She hands the baby over to Nate, who accepts eagerly and cradles her in the crook of his left arm. His entire face transforms into this soft and gentle expression as he hums under his breath.
Right then and there I know I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as Nate holding a baby.
And yeah, I kind of want to have his babies.
I excuse myself, leave the room and head back to the waiting room. After letting Grace know everything went well, I dig my phone from my bag and pull up my mom’s number. She picks up the call on the first ring.
“Elon?” She sounds surprised, which sends guilt spearing through my chest. We haven’t seen eye to eye on things in a long time, but after talking to Grace, I want to make things better between us. So I figure calling her is a good start.
“Mom? How are you?”
She’s silent for a few seconds, then says, “Good.
Just a little surprised to hear from you. Is everything okay?”
I laugh under my breath at our reversed roles.
“I just want to tell you. . . I love you and I’m sorry I haven’t been a good daughter—”
“Sweetheart. I love you, too. I should be apologizing for not being there when you and your sisters needed me the most.”
I lean on the wall and talk to my mother in a way that I’ve never done before. After agreeing to meet when she flies to Florida in a couple of weeks, we say goodbye. I head back to the delivery room feeling lighter.
May
“HEY, ELON. PROFESSOR MASTERS WANTS to see you in her office.”
My gaze snaps up from the novel in my hands and collides with Valerie’s dark brown eyes as I halt in front of the practice rooms. She’s my tutor’s teaching assistant and mostly keeps to herself.
“Hey, Val.” I peek inside the class, feeling my heartbeat picking up, then look back to her. “Now? Why? Our lesson begins in like five minutes.”
She shrugs while turning and heading down the hall. “I have no idea. But she’s in an awful mood.”
I run after her, my pulse pounding in my ears. “How bad?” I ask, worrying my lip between my teeth.
“On a scale of one to ten? Twenty.”
Shit.
Since the time she asked me about Nate, my private classes have been nothing but awkward. At some point, I thought about requesting the Head of Strings Department as a new tutor, but I’d have to justify my request. Besides, it would take weeks before any of the others took me in last minute. I decided to wait until the semester ended so I could put in my request.
I wonder why she wants to see me.
We stop at the door to Professor Masters’s office and Valerie whispers, “Good luck,” then scurries to her desk.
I take two deep breaths and knock on the door. I hear her snap, “Come in.”
I step inside, then close the door behind me. “You wanted to see me?”
“Sit down,” she commands without looking up from the documents on her desk.
I do as I’m told, setting my cello at my feet. I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans and try to breathe through my rising panic.