THIEF: Part 6

by Kimberly Malone

  Jane and Killian surprise me with another guest room, the one next to mine.They hire a designer, against my insistence, to help Fiona and me turn it into a nursery, just in time for fall.We pick a lot of earth tones: rich browns, burnt shades of orange and red.Fitting, Fiona declares, for an autumn baby.

  On September 3rd, exactly three weeks before I’m due, Alex texts me.Coffee?

  I hold my breath as I type, Sure.When?

  He replies almost instantly.Now, maybe?If you’re free.I’m already near your aunt’s place for work.

  I can’t drive anymore, I tell him, so I have to wait till Jane or Killian or Fiona get back.

  There’s a slight lull this time, then a ping.

  I’ll pick you up in ten.

  “Damn, you weren’t kidding.”Alex gives a half-hearted smile as I get into his car.He stares at my stomach.“I’d have a hard time getting behind the wheel, too.”

  “Laugh it up,” I say sarcastically, but we both chuckle, for a few seconds.At the coffeehouse, he gets me a green tea and cookie, waving off my money.

  “I’ve got a rule,” he says, pulling out his wallet, “and that’s to always pay for a pregnant woman’s food.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.“Good karma, maybe?Seems chivalrous.”

  “Well, thank you,” I say, “though I think we can both admit I don’t deserve chivalry.”

  “It’s not about deserving,” he says, and leaves it at that.

  We sit outside on the patio.The sun is still out, golden and just the right intensity.It lights the ends of his hair and reflects in his glasses, but I stare through the glare, to his eyes.Despite the joking, I can tell he has something important to say.

  Of course he does, I tell myself.Why else would he have texted me?

  “So,” he says, taking a sip of his coffee, “saw Silas on the news last week.Actually, every night since last Sunday, if I’m being honest.”

  I nod.“His trial started yesterday.”I pause, wondering if I should tell him what I learned this morning from Silas himself.“He and his ex-wife are back together.She’s the one who got him out on bail, hired his lawyer, all that.”

  Alex raises his eyebrows.“That’s pretty cool, I guess.That they could work things out.Kind of weird, too.But in a nice way.”He clears his throat, his ramble trailing, and doesn’t look at me when he asks, “So you and him…”

  “…are done,” I finish, “for real, this time.”I look at my hands, picking the cuticles around each nail.“We aren’t meant to be together.And now we’re both ready to accept that.”I shrug.“Wish I’d figured it out sooner, of course.But…well.”My eyes meet his, just for a second.

  “And if the baby’s his?”

  I shrug again.“I would have him in the kid’s life.And my life, I guess, at least through that aspect.I wouldn’t want to make the mistake my mom did.”

  Alex nods.He bites his lip, then asks, “Can I…feel him kick?Just, you know, one more time in case…in case he is mine.”

  I smile, just a little, and scoot my chair out.Alex pulls his closer and rests his hands where I tell him, waiting.

  “Whoa,” he laughs, when the baby delivers a kick powerful enough to make his hand jump.“He’s got some serious strength, huh?”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Our laughs fizzle back to silence.

  “Listen, Erin,” he says, exhaling sharply, “I don’t know what’s going to happen after that test comes back, and I can’t promise anything in terms of…of my reaction, I guess.Not until I know.”He looks at me.“But if you’d let me, I would like to be there.At least in the waiting room.”

  “You can be in the delivery room,” I say, too fast.I catch myself.“If you want to, I mean.On the other hand, I totally understand if you don’t.”Instinctively, my hands move to my stomach.“I don’t know why anyone would want to be at the birth of a kid that might not be theirs.”

  “Because it might be,” he says simply, putting his hand back on my stomach.I both love and hate how simple things are to him.How black and white.Then again, I remind myself, he'd never had a gray area like this in his life.Not until I came along.

  Tears start coming up, and I shift my jaw, somehow fighting them.“You’re too nice, Alex.Even when you’re being mean or indifferent or just looking out for yourself, you’re way too nice to me.”

  He nods, not arguing this judgment.“I’ve been told that before.”

  “It doesn’t bother you?I mean, most people in your situation would be screaming, calling the girl a slut, washing their hands of the whole thing—”

  “You aren’t a slut,” he says quietly.He pulls his hand back, reaching for his coffee.“It hurt me a lot, and it still hurts, what you did…but it’s not like you slept with a bunch of random people.You slept with the person you still love.”

  “Loved,” I correct.“You don’t have to believe me when I say this, but I still want to say it: I love you now.I loved you then, too.And…and I’m really sorry I fucked everything up.”

  Alex nods, quiet for a moment before continuing.“My point is…I am still angry.And upset.And really, really hurt.But, even though I’ve never cheated on somebody…I have been in that position, you know, one relationship ending just as another starts moving forward.So I’m not saying it’s right, or that I’m over it.Just that I kind of understand.Maybe that’s why I’m not screaming or walking away.”

  I start to smile, before he adds, “Plus, the baby might be mine; it’s probably best we don’t burn any bridges.”

  “Right,” I say, nodding.Alex: ever practical.

  I reach for my tea, just to give my hands something to do.Suddenly, a sharp pain hits my stomach.It’s worse than the fake contractions I’ve been getting since July; it’s deeper, and hurts way more.I take a sharp breath and squeeze the edge of the table with both hands.

  When I open my eyes, the pain ebbing away, Alex is grinning.It’s such a sweet, familiar sight, I can’t help but smile too.

  “Guess the little guy heard us talking about him,” he laughs, then shakes his keys.“Let’s go.”

  After twelve hours of labor, an epidural that wears off halfway through pushing, more support from Jane than I need and more from Alex than I deserve, I deliver my baby.My son.I name him Thomas Brinsley St. James, letting the nurse know I might change the last name soon, after the paternity test.I haven't decided.

  They swab the baby’s mouth.They swab Alex’s.Then, we all sit in my room to wait.

  “Turn on the television,” I tell Jane, who’s trying, unsuccessfully, to get the baby from Fiona.

  “You should sleep, sweetheart,” she chides, but Fiona, knowing what I want to watch, turns it on for me.She even finds the right channel.

  Silas’s trial hasn’t ended yet.So we’re all waiting, I think, and let Aunt Jane talk me into a nap.

  In the afternoon, two verdicts arrive.The first is that Silas Marlowe has been found not guilty of child endangerment, but guilty of kidnapping.Because he removed Emma from the state, the reporter explains, he was charged with a class six felony; he receives two years in prison, but could get out by next September.The footage of the verdict replays several times during the story: Silas and Abby hug, whispering to each other and nodding, before he’s taken away.While he doesn’t smile, I can tell from his eyes—or his eye, rather—that he’s happy.It was better than anyone expected, the reporter says.

  The second: Thomas Brinsley St. James and Alex Meegan’s DNA are a match.

  Chapter Eight

  “Take him.”I push Tommy into Fiona’s eager arms, then fall face-first onto her bed.“He didn’t go to sleep until dawn, and now he doesn’t want to nap.I feel like I haven’t slept since we got home.”

  Fiona laughs, throwing a blanket across me.“Come on, Tom-Tom,” she coos, “let’s give Mommy a break and go outside.”

  “Thank you,” I mumble, my face in the pillow.When I hear her open the front door, I shout, “He need
s a sweater!”

  “Got it!” she shouts back.

  “And a hat!”

  “Got it,” she stresses, and shuts the door before I can keep bugging her.

  Just as I’m drifting off, my body limp and peaceful in that perfect in-between state, my cell phone rings.I groan, finally answering before it can go to voicemail.“Hello?”

  “You sound like shit.”

  “Thanks.”I roll over, staring at Fiona’s ceiling fan.“Your son kept me up ‘til five.”

  Alex laughs.“I’m on my way to pick him up now, don’t worry.”He pauses.I hear the car rumbling in the background and picture Alex on his headset, dressed in a smart black suit, his preferred outfit since his company promoted him.His favorite part of the job is all the traveling he gets to do.

  “Actually,” he adds, “before I take him back to my place, can we talk?”

  My head’s foggy from exhaustion, but this piques my interest.I sit up.“Yeah…sure.”

  “Cool,” he says.I think I can hear him smiling, and this puts me at ease a little.“See you soon.”

  Alex looks around Killian and Jane’s home, whistling.“Damn, they really go all-out for Christmas around here, huh?” he asks.He nods to the two Christmas trees already visible from the foyer, one in the dining room and another in the parlor.

  “No,” I say, “just Jane.That’s not even all of them.She’s got a tree in every room.”

  “‘Every room,’” he says, chuckling, and raises an eyebrow.“Even the bathrooms?”When I don’t answer, he laughs again.“Your aunt.”

  Fiona comes downstairs with Tommy, fresh from a spit-up incident and reeking of baby powder.She hands him to Alex, and like every other time he comes over, I have to fight my attraction.The combination of his clean-cut suit and the way he coos and fawns over Tommy drives me crazy.

  But, I remind myself, we agreed three months ago, before I’d even left the hospital, that we’d just stay friends.“Friendly,” more specifically.At least, for now.

  “Actually,” Alex says, handing Fiona the baby again, “would you mind watching him just a little longer?”His eyes cut to me.“Erin and I need to talk.”

  Fiona doesn’t need to be told twice.She whisks Tommy back upstairs, mumbling baby talk to him with every step.

  “She’s crazy about him,” I smile, inviting Alex into the kitchen, “which is great for me.It's like having a live-in nanny that I don't have to pay.”We laugh as I pour two mugs of fresh coffee, adding plenty of sugar to his, the way he likes.We sit across from each other in the breakfast nook.I feel sloppy compared to him, with my sweatpants and messed-up ponytail, my T-shirt covered in spit-up, while his suit looks perfectly ironed, his hair gelled and combed with precision.

  “Look,” he says, loosening his tie, “this two-hour drive?It’s getting to me.”

  “Oh.”I set my mug down.“Well…if you want, I could drive Tommy out to you during the weekends and your days off.Or we could meet halfway.”

  “I had something different in mind,” he says, and I see that sideways smile, creeping in.He reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket, then sets something on the table with a solid clink.It’s a key.

  I pick it up, inspecting for clues, but don’t find any.“What is this for?”

  “My new apartment,” he says, leaning back in his seat.“It’s five minutes from here.”

  I smile too, automatic, but then feel my brow furrow.“Won’t your drive to work be longer?”

  “The beauty of telecommuting,” he says.“I only have to show up in the office twice a week—the rest of the time, I’ll be working from home.When I’m not overseas,” he adds.He searches my face.“Cool, right?We can hang out more.”

  Hang out.“Oh,” I say, “yeah…”When I see his face fall, disappointed in my lack of enthusiasm, I add, “No, I mean, that is cool.I’m really happy, Alex.You’ll get to see Tommy way more often now.”I take a sip of scalding coffee to calm myself down.What was I expecting, besides “hang out?”I’m lucky to even get that much from him.

  Alex sees through me, though.He reaches out, making me set my mug down, and holds my hands across the tabletop.“I’m still attracted to you too, Erin.Sometimes, when I see you…I’ve got to fight myself pretty hard not to kiss you.”

  Despite myself, I smile.I feel a blush in my cheeks.

  “Remember,” Alex reminds me, “we said we’d be friends.To see how things happen on their own.”

  I nod.“I know.”

  “Of course, I’ve never been the kind of person to let things happen on their own,” he says, as though he’s speaking to himself.When I look up, though, he’s smiling again.

  “I really want to kiss you,” I say, my blush progressing to bright red, I’m sure. I squeeze his hand.“But I’m kind of nervous.”

  Alex levels his gaze.“Are you making fun of me?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  He smiles again, leaning across the table and pressing his mouth to mine.It’s slow, at first, testing the waters; after a moment, he puts his hands on the sides of my face and deepens it.

  I think Fiona was right—that my relationship with Silas, or my entire time knowing him, was unlike anything else I’ll ever have with someone again. That kind of passion, almost as much animal instinct as anything else, is great in the moment. But the flip-side of it, all the drama and deceit that caused it, was never far behind.

  With Alex, there’s passion.But there’s also trust—at least, on my part, towards him.There’s kindness, even when it’s not deserved.And we do have a child together.No matter what happens after this, we’re more connected to each other than Silas and I ever were, or ever could be, just like he and Abby are connected.No matter what we choose, or where we go, our kids will anchor us all to the same place, in the end.

  It’s been only a year since I met Alex, and not much longer than that since I met Silas.I feel like I’ve known both my entire life up to this point.But I’ll only know one for the rest of it.

  “I love you,” I whisper, as Alex breaks the kiss.I open my eyes, staring right into his.“I know I shouldn’t say that, it’s just—”

  “You can say it,” he interrupts, then hesitates before adding, “I love you too.”

  “But…?”

  He sighs, pulling back a little.“But,” he says, nodding, “I need more time.”

  His hands are still on my face, touching the skin gently and pushing my hair from my eyes when it comes loose.“I can wait,” I tell him.“And…if you decide you can’t trust me, after all…I’ll understand.”

  “I trust you, Erin.”He takes his hands away, but slips one into mine on the tabletop.“I’m just still hurt.So I want to wait a while and…and be sure about how I feel.It might take a few weeks, a year…I don’t know.”

  “I can wait,” I tell him again.“A year isn’t all that long.”

  Slowly, I let my head fall onto his shoulder.We listen to Fiona’s babbling and Tommy’s high-pitched gurgles upstairs. He squeezes my hand, and I squeeze back, as the sounds float through the grates to meet us.

  ~END~