by J. B. McGee
How does he know what the bathroom looks like? “Have you been here before?” I ponder out loud as I cock my head to the side.
“No, but I’ve seen pictures.” He leads me into the spacious master bath.
“Take off your shoes,” he commands.
“Um, okay?”
He flips a switch and gives me a nudge onto the ceramic tile. The floor feels delightful against my bare feet. It’s warm. The floor is warm. Unbelievable. This is how rich people live. I turn to him. “Heated floors?”
He nods.
“Well I was already sold, but this coupled with that shower and bathtub is just the icing on the cake.” I giggle. The shower, like everything else, is expansive. Tiles cover two of the walls and the other two walls are made of glass. The bathtub is more like a small Jacuzzi, outfitted with jets and large enough to easily accommodate the two of us. There is a chrome water fountain for the faucet. There are double vanities on separate walls. Most girls would be thankful for a separate space because I’ve heard most guys are slobs when it comes to bathrooms, but Bradley is the clean one, not me.
I let go of his hand and slowly spin myself. “I don’t know what else to say...when can we move in?” The house is vacant. Surely it won’t take that long. I look to Maggie.
She glances to Bradley. “Mr. Banks said he would be financing the home, so it will probably take about thirty days for the loan to close.”
I turn my head back to Bradley puzzled. “As opposed to what, paying cash?” Who pays cash for a house like this? Who pays cash for a house, period?
He nods. “I won’t finance it if you want to move in quicker than that. It’s just...”
I feel all the color drain from my face. I knew that he was loaded, but I don’t even think I realized just how loaded he apparently is. The thought of paying cash for a house like this overwhelms me. “Gabby, I have a trust fund. A very large trust fund. But I’ve spent my entire life working hard because I don’t want to be a trust fund brat.” He wraps his arm around me and pulls me close, lifting my chin. “I’ll use it if you want. I’ll do anything for you.”
I shake my head and swallow hard. “No, I’m good with financing.” I realize in that moment financing a home has never sounded so good. It’s the normal thing to do. The thought of him handing over that kind of money for me makes me want to vomit. Not only that, I would never want him to do something that his heart isn’t into.
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
He leans down and plants the gentlest, sweetest, lingering kiss onto my lips. When he’s done, all I can do is touch them. My entire body feels like Jello, and more than anything in the world, I wish I could fast forward six months and know that standing in this exact spot, that kiss would have come from my husband. I hear my mother’s voice in my mind telling me to not wish my life away. I smile. It’s not often that I can hear her so vividly, but when it does, it rocks me to the core. It’s like she knows that this is happening to me, and that she’s giving me her blessing. Tears begin to trickle down my cheek, and I quickly walk away to look out of the window, hoping to hide my moment from Bradley.
The thing about soul mates it seems, though, is that you can’t hide moments like that. He seems to have a radar for when I need a shoulder. Maybe it’s Maggie’s presence. I don’t know why I feel like I need to hide from this man. He’s my everything. I hear him say to Maggie, “Give us a minute, please.”
He closes the door to the bathroom and comes up to me from behind, wrapping his arms around my waist. He rests his chin on my shoulder and I assume he’s looking out of the window, too. I’m thankful he’s not turned me around. I hate crying in front of people, especially him.
“You wanna talk about it?” he asks.
I barely shake my head. “Just thinking about my mom again.”
“Ah.” He breathes onto the exposed skin on my neck sending shivers through my body. “What about her?”
“Nothing, kinda crazy. I hear her sometimes. It’s rare, but it happens.” My voice cracks, and I take a moment to try to fight back the tears before I continue. “I had been wishing it was six months down the road and that we were already married in this bathroom.”
He chuckles. “Well that sounds good to me.”
I elbow him, “I heard her say not to wish away my life. She always told us that as kids.”
“Yeah, I’ve been told that a time or two by my grandparents. I know we are both anxious to get married, but I think she’s right. We both need to enjoy every moment, every breath.”
I pivot on my heels and pull his head down so our lips are crushed together. “I love you,” I breathlessly murmur through our kiss.
“Whoa.” He grins and shakes his head. “Always so unexpected. I love you. What do you say we go buy this house before someone else does?”
We are in the car following Maggie back to her office to fill out the contract on the house. Gabby has broken out of her quiet, shy mood. She’s now become a little chatter box. I smile occasionally and nod when I think it seems appropriate. I’ve gotten good at tuning people out, but being able to detect those breaks when it is necessary for me to act like I’m paying attention. I’m not ignoring her to be rude. I hate that I am not more excited at this moment. It’s been hard for me to get the whole baby situation out of my head. Especially after looking at a house and envisioning my future children.
I’m not sure how she’s going to take what I have to tell her. I’ve been on the fence all day as to whether I should bring this up or not today of all days. Just like I had promised, I called our family attorney Monday about getting a paternity test. I knew he would know exactly what to do. He handles all kinds of scandals on a regular basis. He’s excellent at what he does, which is why he’s on retainer for our family. My father is very good at covering up all of his many indiscretions.
I had been waiting for him to get back to me. He had to do some research. Apparently, it’s not a popular decision to test paternity in the middle of a pregnancy. It’s usually done at the very beginning or at the very end. They don’t like doing them in the middle because it requires an amniocentesis, where they take fluid from the uterus, which can cause pre-term labor. So that means, unfortunately for us, we have to wait until the baby is born to determine paternity.
I know that despite my door being closed to my office earlier, my reaction was beyond out of control. I won’t blame Gabby if she flips out knowing we’ll have to wait on finding out. I realize that when I tell her this, I risk all the bliss we’ve had today gushing down the drain. We’ve both tried to act like it doesn’t exist to some degree, but I don’t know how much longer I can stand this. I just want to know, myself, so that I can plan my life and move forward, forward with her.
The thought of telling her while we’re out and I have the only mode of transportation brings a slight smile to my face. She’s a runner. She runs everytime something bad happens. I would like to think she’s not going to continue those sprints now that she has a ring on her finger. Maybe her not having the ability to go anywhere will help her realize she doesn’t have to do that anymore.
I glance over to her, and the excitement I see on her face takes my breath away. The thought of hurting her or spoiling that breaks my heart. As selfish as it may be, I want to watch her this animated a little while longer. I’ll tell her at dinner. But rather than trapping her into not running, I’ll have some faith in my girl. I’ll let her take her car, and if she runs, then I’ll deal with that. She’s got to learn to deal with things like an adult. You can’t run away when things get tough. I silently pray that she learned her lesson last weekend about doing that.
It didn’t take long at Maggie’s office to do the contract. Gabby quickly changed moods when we got to her office, and then again when we got back into the car. I can tell she’s utterly exhausted. That’s usually what triggers her mood swings. Today has been a long day for her. She’s quiet on the short ride back to Château Élan to pick up her car
. I really hate that we have two cars today. I hate being away from her.
As I pull into the parking lot, I glance over to her. She’s gazing out of the window. “Penny for your thoughts, Gabby Girl?”
She looks back to me and gives me a weak smile. “Just tired.”
“Hungry?”
“Famished is more like it,” she giggles.
“Me, too. There’s an Olive Garden off the Buford exit. Do you want to grab some dinner before we head home?”
She does that cute clapping thing that she does when she’s excited. “Yes.” Those hazel eyes widen as the excitement perks my girl up. “Yummy,” she cheers.
I chuckle at her adorableness. “Follow me, then. Exit 115, then a right, and then a left...you know in case you can’t keep up.” I wink at her. That car of hers seems to be working just fine, but it struggles when it goes over about sixty miles per hour. I have plans to buy her a new one for her birthday on March 12th. I still haven’t decided what I want to get her. Whether I want to buy it and surprise her, or whether I want to take her with me and let her pick it out. I smile because I’m damned if I do, and damned if I don’t. If I buy it and surprise her, she will be super overwhelmed. If I take her, she’s liable to insist she doesn’t need a new car. Although, I worried that would be her reaction tonight looking at houses and look at how well that went.
Well, she was apprehensive at Maggie’s office. I hate that she’s so leery about good, exciting things. On the one hand, I don’t understand it, but on the other, I see why she feels the way she does. Everything that has ever been good in her life has been ripped from her grasps in a flash. I’m sure it’s hard for her to accept good things without waiting for the other shoe to fall. I’m done letting the other shoe fall for her, though. I’ll do everything in my power to keep her steady and on her feet.
Her laugh interrupts my thoughts. “What has you looking so happy all the sudden?”
Thinking fast is a talent of mine. “I love it when you do that clappy thing.” True statement because I do love it.
She rolls her eyes, shaking her head as she chuckles. She leans in and gives me a quick peck on the cheek. “Try not to lose me.”
“Oh baby, you have no idea how hard I try every day not to lose you.”
She doesn’t even turn back. “Not what I meant and you know it.”
“Be careful.”
“You, too,” she says as she climbs into her beat up Honda. When I see her lights turn on and hear her ignition start, I pull in front of her and head out towards the interstate.
I reflect back on our conversation, teetering on my decision as to whether I should tell her the craptastic news tonight about Veronica and the baby. Waiting to learn the paternity for another couple of months is going to be hard for me, but even more difficult for her. It means that she can’t forget about my past. That we can’t put Veronica out of our lives just yet. It means that she can’t bury Ian and the pain he continuously causes her.
We pull into the parking lot, and I am determined to get this off of my chest, to be honest with her. I’m going to tell her everything. I silently say a prayer that this goes much better than I anticipate as I climb out of my car and beep the alarm system. Gabby pulls in beside me. I open the door for her and help her out of her car. I put my hand in the small of her back and walk us into the restaurant.
Because it’s later in the evening, it’s not crowded. The hostess tells us there is no wait, which is good because I’m too hungry to wait a long time to be seated anywhere, especially in the middle of the week. When the young girl shows us to a table somewhat in the middle of the place, I ask, “Can we have a booth in the corner?” I point to the area I have in mind. “Maybe over there.”
She nods. “Sure.”
I want a place where I don’t feel like everyone is listening to our business. I put my arm out and gesture for Gabby to go ahead of me. I climb into the opposite side of the booth that she does. I usually like to sit beside her, but tonight I need to be able to see her when I talk to her without breaking my neck.
“Oh. You don’t want to sit beside me?” she asks.
She has no idea. I already miss being able to put my arm around her. “I need to talk to you tonight, and actually be able to think clearly.” I had really not planned on mentioning this until after I’d ordered and had a glass of good, red wine, but I’m not going to lie to her.
Her face turns from amused to serious. “About what?”
I look down at the table, releasing the white, cloth napkin from the silverware. “Ian and Veronica.” I glance up to her before placing the napkin onto my lap. I can see she’s already tensed up and cringing.
“What about ‘em?”
“I had called the attorney about the paternity --” I cut myself off from that subject when the waitress walks up to take our drink orders. “Do you want your usual?”
She smiles. “Yes, please.”
I tell the waitress what we want. She’s surprised when I spout out our drink and food order in one long run-on sentence. I needed to buy some un-interrupted time to finish this conversation. I want it behind us so we can move on and hopefully enjoy our dinner since the proverbial cat is out of the bag.
“Anyway. It turns out we can’t do the paternity test until Veronica has had the baby.”
Her brows furrow, and she starts to fidget. “Why?”
“The test they have to do on the baby is usually only done early in the pregnancy or at the very end.” I reach for her hand. “It’s an unnecessary risk to the baby at this point.”
The waitress comes back to the table with our drinks, breadsticks, and our salad. Gabby lets go of my hand and takes the tongs to mix the salad and then puts some on both of the plates the waitress also left on the table. She doesn’t even look up from preparing our food. She reaches for a breadstick and takes a bite. “So the soonest we can do it is after she delivers?”
She is being so difficult for me to read right now. I know this situation is still so fresh for the both of us. How do I expect her to react? I just hate that we have to be discussing this at all. “Right.”
“Well that sucks,” she says as she takes a bite of her food and looks out of the window.
I pick up my fork and start eating my salad. Gabby gives me the peppers and I give her my olives. I decide it’s best to just give her a few minutes to let it all settle. We both continue to eat in silence barely making eye contact with each other. I knew this was a bad idea to start this conversation today. I should have just waited until the morning.
I take a swig of my water and wipe my mouth. “Gabby.”
She glances at me before blankly looking back out of the window. “Huh?”
“Talk to me.”
She looks up to the ceiling and swallows. “What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t want you to say anything in particular. I don’t want you to run away from me, physically or emotionally.”
She doesn’t say a word. She’s driving me crazy. “Are you mad about having to wait or is it something else?”
Her eyes meet mine. She shakes her head and calmly says, “I’m not mad.”
“You’re something.”
“We had such a great day. Why’d you have to tell me tonight and ruin this, too?”
“It was eating me alive. I can’t keep crap from you to save my life.” I have to stop for a minute because I am almost irritated and I don’t want her to get mad if she isn’t already. “I hate secrets, Gabby.”
She nods her head. “Me, too.”
“So that’s why I had to tell you. I know this situation isn’t ideal. We’ll get through it, though.”
The server walks up with a large round tray of food. She places it down on one of those tray holders and says, “Shrimp Mezzaluna?” I point to Gabby.
The young girl serving us, who can’t be much older than Gabby, smiles flirtatiously at me. “And this Lobster Cannelloni with Shrimp must be yours?” Give me a break. I mean, could
she be any more obvious that she’s flirting with me in front of my fiancée? Some people just make you want to shake your head, but instead I glance at Gabby and give her a look that I know she recognizes. A look that I couldn’t care less about anyone else. I look away from Gabby, smiling cordially at the server. “It is, indeed.”
The girl barely glances at Gabby then back to me, which just irritates the hell out of me. “Would either of you like any freshly grated Parmesan cheese?”
I defer to Gabby in an effort to make this girl leave me alone. “Gabby Girl?” I can’t help but playfully wink at her. She knows what I’m doing.
This lights up my girl’s face for the first time since the talk of the baby. She never takes her gaze off of mine. “Yes, please.”
“We’d both like some, please.”
I grin at Gabby.
Gabby finally tells her she’s given her enough, but not before the girl was probably thinking her arm was about to fall off.
When she starts on mine, she says, “Just tell me when, okay?”
I smile. “I like a lot, too.”
At this point, I can tell the girl is ready to get away from us just as much as we’re ready for her to leave. She’s grinding that damn cheese as fast as she can. It makes me chuckle. “That’s good.”
She plasters a fake smile and gathers her things to leave.
Gabby tilts her head to the side. “That was fun.”
I laugh. “Yeah, she needed to be put in her place. She was here to do a job, and that wasn’t to flirt with me.” I pick up my fork back up and take a bite of my piping hot food. It’s delicious. “Want some?” I hold up the next bite to her.
She leans across the table and opens her mouth with a smile. Ah, this feels good. I think I’ll just enjoy dinner until she brings it up again, or better yet, maybe I’ll change the subject to something that I know will make her happy.
She moans as she chews the bite and covers her full mouth with her hand. Her eyes widen. “That is so good. I’m getting that next time.”