by Gina Kincade
"Jay, calm down," Marianne pipes from the side. She doesn't lift her chin up. "The kids might hear you."
Breathing out a shaky exhale, Jason pushes two fingers on Hunter's chest, but his voice lowers when he says, "You're going to do the right thing, Hunter. You're going to take responsibility."
"She doesn't want me to be involved!" Hunter snarls back.
"No. You are going to help her out. If not you, then we will. You can watch from the sidelines as much as you want, but Mare and I are helping Blanche and the baby. Your baby!"
Hunter pushes his brother, and the two glare at each other. Marianne has had enough. "Can you two just calm the frig down? Jay, your brother is old enough to make his own decisions." She stands in between the two large men, hands on her hips, taking no bullshit from either one. "Hunter, you can do what you want, but Jay is right. Even if you don't care, we do. Blanche is a real nice girl. I believe this wasn't planned, but it's here now and we cannot ignore it. Think about what Mom and Dad would say."
He has. Since dropping off and leaving Blanche at her tiny apartment, shared with another person, all he has thought of was how his parents would react. Other than Jason, the oldest of seven siblings, no one else is married or has kids. Donald and Lucy Peters haven't interfered with his life at all. Sure, his Mom would always ask him to go back home, at least for a little visit, but once Hunter says no, she backs down.
The stress in the air looms over him, as he brushes and tugs at his short hair. He is far different than the Hunter who left home and came to the big city with the hopes in his eyes, a duffle bag and unknown future. He has made a name for himself, made friends, and had lovers—keeping less of the former and adding up more of the latter. Yet, he can still imagine how his Mom would look if she finds out that her youngest son has turned his back on her grandchild. If he keeps going the path that he's told Blanche he'll take, he may as well say goodbye to his family as well. He is expected to do the right thing.
But what is right?
Is it right to get involved with a woman and their child's lives if he hasn't planned on doing so? Is it right to turn his back on Blanche and the child? His child? Assuming that Blanche is telling the truth and not just drop the blame on the nearest man around.
Of course, even though he's only been with her for a night, he knows deep inside that Blanche isn't the type to make up tall tales. And she said it herself, she doesn't need him around. How can he insert himself in this woman's life if she's not willing to let him?
"Look. You don't have to marry her," Jay starts again but Hunter doesn't let him finish.
"No one marries just because of that anymore."
"I know, Hunt! It's the twenty-first century! I'm a divorce lawyer. I know these things work. All I'm saying is you give this a chance. We'll come up with a solution that will benefit both parties."
Hunter rolls his eyes like a petulant teenager, getting a tongue-lashing from his father. "I'm not stupid, Jay."
"I'm not saying you are, but you're acting like one."
The two brothers have a silent stand off. Hunter breaks off first, pushing away from the kitchen island. "I'm going home. Thanks for lending me the car, Mare. I'm going to have a think and I'll talk to you both tomorrow."
"Just think it through, Hunter!" Jay calls out one more time before his brother steps out of the house.
NO MATTER HOW SOOTHING Trisha's hand is over her back, Blanche can't seem to relax. It all went wrong from the very beginning. Bee didn't want him to find out that way, and neither did she expect him to react how he did too. It's all gone to hell in an instant, and she doesn't have any idea how to take it back, or if she can, or if she wants to.
"Maybe it's for the best, Bee," Trisha hands her a glass of water.
Bee doesn't feel parched. She's weakened from the afternoon's events, and the heaving and purging. But she takes the glass anyway, mostly out of fear that she's harming the baby if she doesn't. She's also forced herself to eat the consommé that Troy prepared specially for her. Trisha's lucky, she thinks, Troy seems to know exactly what to do.
"Maybe. I just don't know. I had the chance to talk to him, but he looked so angry. So mad, like I did it on purpose." Bee launches herself off the small kitchen chair and refills her glass. "This is my life too. It's not just him who's going to get affected. What am I saying? It's too late now."
"Well, at least Jay knows. And Marianne. You said they're great people. I don't think he'll fire you for anything. It's not like you impregnated yourself."
And because she has gone through every emotion there is, Bee looks at her friend, eyebrow quirking, and laughs at that last thought. "This is so messed up."
Troy, who's been quietly listening and observing, decides to give his two cents, "You'll always have us on your side, Bee. You can depend on that."
She smiles at him. "Thanks, Troy."
A rap on the door disrupts their discussion.
"I'll get it," Bee says, placing the glass back down on the counter and walks to the door. "Yeah?" There's no answer. She knows enough not to open the door. It could be anyone on the other side with any sort of reason, bad or good. "Who is it?" she tries again.
The shock travels from her neck down to her toes when she hears the voice behind the door. "Blanche it's me, Hunter."
Bee looks back at the kitchenette in the back of the apartment, where Troy and Trisha are stood side by side. "What do you want?" she asks.
"Can you please open the door? It's silly talking to you like this."
Trisha sidles up to Bee, followed by Troy.
"What do I do?" Bee whispers.
Trisha shrugs. Troy scratches his head and nods. "Open the door?" the couple simultaneously says.
And so Bee does as suggested. Her stomach lurches as she faces the big man standing in front of her, his large biceps leaning against the sidewall, arms folded over his chest. The stance appears to be chill, calm, collected, but the look on his face says otherwise.
"I thought we did talk." Bee curses her wavering voice. She sounds nervous. She doesn't want to be. She can't let him see how intimidated she is by him.
Hunter straightens and runs a hand over his short hair. He regards the other two people standing behind Blanche, supporting her. "Hey," he offers a simple greeting but he doesn't get anything back.
The other woman, the friend whom Bee came in with at the bar, steps forward, a steady finger darts out you poke him. "What do you want now? Haven't you done enough damage?"
Hunter just lets her poke at him, but he doesn't take away his eyes from Bee. "Wanna take a walk? Get some fresh air?" And a fresh perspective, he wants to add.
"Oh, hell no! She's not going anywhere with you! You can say whatever you want I front of us, because we're friends, and her only family," Trisha says, with her chin raised.
Bee touches her friend’s arm. "It's okay, Trish. I won't be long."
"No," the word comes from the normally quiet, Troy. "You guys can talk in here. Trish and I will take a walk."
"What? But..." Trisha tries to protest but one look from her boyfriend and she knows that she's already lost the battle before it begins. "Fine.". She whips around to face the burly man at the door. "No funny business."
Trisha turns to Blanche and holds both her hands. "My cell's in my back pocket. You call me right away if he does anything stupid. And you know..." She leans over for a whisper. "Hit him where it hurts."
As soon as her friends leave, Bee asks
Hunter to sit on the sofa. He obeys. And on the three-seater, apartment size couch, he appears even more gigantic. How did she get involve with such a man? Yet, with all the ogre-like attitude and the intimidating appearance, Hunter looks almost vulnerable. Bee wants to know why.
She chooses to stand. Being near him on a couch, and with a bed nearby was what got her into this situation in the first place. And with the pregnancy driving her hormones out of whack, she doesn't know if she can trust herself, yet. The memory of his actions i
n the office kitchenette flashes in her mind. A jagged breath escapes through clenched teeth, as she says,
"What is it you want?"
At the same time, Hunter tells her, "I made a mistake."
"I beg your pardon?" She raises her arms and folds them over her chest; mostly she hopes that he doesn't notice how hard her heart is thumping underneath her rib cage.
Hunter pushes his hands over his hair, and hangs his head. "I'm sorry. I made a mistake." He tilts his head up as his arms test on his thighs. "I changed my mind."
She knows exactly what he's talking about but she refuses to believe it until he fully explains. "This is not a game, Hunter."
"I'm not playing. My parents raised me differently. They'd expect me to do the right thing."
"This has nothing to do with your parents. This is between you and me." Blanche doesn't know where she's getting the courage now to face off with him, but she accepts it, and is thankful it.
Hunter stands abruptly. "Please sit down. You're making me nervous."
Making him nervous? Her? He probably weighs triple her, and he could most likely snap her in half with his fingers, but he feels nervous around her?
She uses it as ammunition. "I'm fine standing." They stare at each other for a few beats. Her pulse echoes loudly in her ears. She has lost feelings on her toes and fingers. Bee draws in a breath to maintain her position.
He doesn't sit. He clears the space between them in one long stride, and says, "I would like to be a part of the baby, our baby's life...if you are willing to let me. Please, Blanche."
Can it be this easy? The questions runs through Bee's mind.
"On what terms?" One of the biggest reasons why she moved to NYC is that she wants control over her own life. To make the decisions that will affect her present and future. A child on the way isn't a hindrance, but merely a different path to the same goal. Even though she's aware of how much a child can take her free time, she doesn't feel like she's giving up her freedom. But what happens if Hunter comes into play?
"Your terms," he says, clear as day.
His answer surprises her, making her stumble back. In an instant, his arms are around her, protecting her from a possible fall. His unique scent envelopes her, makes her head swim, her eyes blur, her inhibitions forgotten.
"You make the call, Blanche," he tells her. His eyes show her the truth.
She gulps and nods. "We'll do this together."
"Good." He slowly releases her. "I'll come by again tomorrow, then you can tell me how you'd like finances and custody arranged. I'm sure my brother would be more than willing to help you out with it, if you give him a call."
She nods. It cannot be this easy; she waits for the other bomb to drop. But all he does is make his way back to the door. Before he turns the handle, he faces her again and pulls out a card from his back pocket. "My number is on the back of the card if you need anything, anything at all."
Blanches takes it, stares at it but she isn't looking. "Come back tomorrow afternoon."
Hunter nods, then pauses before turning the door handle, and leaving with a quick, " Goodbye."
Once the door shuts behind him, Blanche reaches for the couch and sinks in it. Her legs are shaking, her fingers are tingling. The inhales and exhales coming out of her are shaky. No complications, it's what's right. She places a hand over the quick tattoo on her chest, trying to steady herself.
She has been willing to face the consequences of being a single mother in the city. Hunter's change of heart has surprised her. She hopes that acceptance of it won't disappoint her in the future. If it does, she has to find away to deal with it, even before it happens.
Her cellphone flashes on the side table while she's deep in thought. It takes another round of buzzing before it snaps her back to the moment. When she's about to reach for it, she hears a knock on the door. She quickly glances at the phone, finding Trisha's face on her screen. As she gets up to check the door, she brings the phone with her, reading over her friend's message of support and encouragement.
When she opens the door, she's once again shocked to see Hunter standing there, with that seriousness on his face that she has now accepted is a common look on him.
He opens his mouth before she can. "Move in with me," he blurts out, leaving her blinking and thinking that it is all an illusion. But he repeats himself, "Blanche, I asked you to move in with me, what do you say?"
Chapter Eleven
Trisha sits on the edge of her bed, pouting like a kid who got sent to bed without dessert. "I can't believe you actually considered this."
Blanche eyes her from where she stands, the two suitcases she brought with her from home sit by her feet. "I understand why you're upset. It's only until I can support myself. You've sacrificed enough for me." She walks over to join her friend on the bed, and takes her hand, willing her to look at her sincere eyes. "It kind of makes sense right now."
If she's being honest with herself, Bee is afraid of the consequences of her decision. The question: 'What if things do not work out?'
"You barely know the guy!"
"Yes, that's exactly one of the reasons why I'm moving in with him. I want to know this man with whom I'm having a baby," Bee reasons.
Trisha throws her hands up in frustration. "You can do that while living with me here, or when Troy, you and I find a bigger place."
"I've intruded in yours and Troy's life enough. I know what it was like before I came. Let me do this. Let me learn on my own for a while. And I'm sure Hunter won't mind if you come and visit."
Trisha scoffs. "Like he'll have a choice!" She embraces her friend, propping her head over Bee's shoulder. "You make sure he doesn't do what Perry did to you. I can't see you hurt like that again."
Bee closes her eyes. A tear rolls down her cheek before she can stop it. "This is different. Hunter and I are not together. We're just...roommates. We're not even friends."
"That's why this all feels wrong." Trisha pouts as she stares at her friend. "If you ever change your mind or he does something stupid, you can come back any time. Anytime, Bee. Promise me."
Bee nods. "I promise."
"Give me a hug, you nutso."
Blanche swallows her anxiety. She vows to make the most of the situation. Not only will she get to know the father of her child more, she can also reclaim her independence. She has been under Trisha's wings for quite some time. Hunter has promised to give her the space she wants, all she has to do is ask. She doesn't expect him to serve her hand and foot. She insists that he let her pay for rent. What's even better is that Jay and Mare have offered their support as well.
Marianne has given her the contact numbers for an obstetrician, a midwife and a doula with whom she is acquainted. She has also promised to bring Blanche shopping for any baby needs. Bee is grateful for any sort of guidance. Her research on pregnancy has resulted into hundreds of differing ideas and opinions. Marianne has ensured her that most of them are merely guidelines. Once, Blanche entered a search for unusual living arrangements, hoping that it will shed some insights on the situation. The results she received mostly included situations during divorce or separations, something she may as well have asked her boss about. Her boss, Jason, who has been less than thrilled at how the pregnancy happened but has been a solid support nonetheless. Jay has ensured her that regardless of the blood ties, he will have her back if anything goes wrong with Hunter. The pressure isn't much on her, but rather, on the person whom she has decided to live with.
Blanche picks up one of her bags as Trisha takes the others when they hear the knock on the door.
"That must be him."
Trisha says nothing. She stomps across the room to the door. She places one of the bags on the floor before pulling on the doorknob, then she roughly pushes the bags onto Hunter's arms.
"You better not mess this up," Trisha leans over to warn him.
Hunter stares at her, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. He knows if he shows off his full teeth, it wi
ll be received with angst and vile.
"YOU CLEANED!"
The spotless, trashless floor is the first thing Blanche notices.
Hunter scratches the nape of his neck. "I hired a cleaner. She's willing to come once a week, if necessary. She came highly recommended by Mare and Jay."
"Oh."
He knows what that one-syllable, noncommittal reply means. It means, "oh, you're still a pig", "oh, you're a miserable slob who's too lazy to clean a two bedroom apartment", or "oh, I made a mistake". The fact of the matter is that Hunter just doesn't have the time. With work taking over all of his free time, prepping for Red's return, Hunter doesn't care much for tidying up his place, not when he can hire someone to do it. There are plenty of people willing to do the work that one doesn't want to do.
"Oh, but I can clean for you. No problem. I can't force you to take a proper amount for rent, but I can help out." Hunter does not expect that as an answer.
"Don't worry about it. You need to rest, as much as you possibly can. I'll show you to the bedroom." He carries her items to the master bedroom, which he has called his own for a number of years. The walls are painted the same dark grey like when Bee was first there. He has changed the sheets with the new ones he has purchased the day before. He's also bought new pillows, replaced the mattress, picked up new bedside lamps, has gotten rid of the cinder block "side table" he has used for years, and chose simple wood and steel tables instead.
"Wow. You've definitely changed a lot since I was here," Blanche blurts out, and as soon as she does, a blush creeps up to her neck and cheeks. "What I meant to say..."
"Don't worry about it. We have to get used to each other." He tries not to sound so curt, but the situation is less than ideal. Hunter has had many sleepless nights, wondering why he has offered up this solution. Did his subconscious conjure this ridiculous idea? Living with a woman? Living with a woman he barely knows, and who's carrying his child? And what's even more surprising is that Bee accepted his offer! Somehow she seems more sure of her decisions than he is.