by S. R. Grey
When we’re just outside the waiting room, I slow to a stop.
“What’s wrong?” Nick wants to know.
“I’m sorry, Nick, but I just can’t figure out why you’re here.”
He appears offended. “What the hell kind of question is that?” he barks.
“I’m sorry, really, and I don’t mean to pry, but I just don’t understand why you’re here and Tony isn’t.”
“Tony?” Nick isn’t angry anymore; he’s utterly confused. “Why would my cousin come to the hospital for Missy?”
Worried that I may have just blown Missy’s secret, I gather my thoughts to formulate a response. But then realization dawns in Nick’s deep-brown eyes.
“Oh, I get it,” he begins. “You think Tony is the father of the baby, don’t you?”
“You know about the baby?” I whisper.
“Of course I know.” Nick peers at me like I have two heads.
“Well, then you must know Tony is the father,” I state.
Nick shakes his head sadly. “Oh, Kay, you have it all wrong. Tony isn’t the father of Missy’s baby. I am.”
What? “But Missy said—”
“Look,” Nick cuts me off, “I don’t know what Missy told you about the night at the Anchor Inn, but I was the one who ended up with her. I fucked her. My cousin was there, yeah, but he just, uh, watched.”
I have a feeling “watched” means something more like “jacked off,” but that’s neither here nor there. I’m still processing the fact that Nick is the father. And he’s obviously known long enough for him to appear comfortable with his impending role.
But why would Missy lie to me?
“Missy said the father didn’t know,” I mumble to myself.
Hearing me, Nick touches my arm lightly. “Missy told me over a week ago that she’s pregnant. I was mad at first, but then…” He trails off. “It took me a few days, but I came to terms with the idea of being a dad. And now I’m actually kind of excited about the whole thing.”
Nick smiles, a genuine smile, and I feel happy for him and happy for Missy. Maybe they’ll get to know each other better and end up becoming a family. Crazier things have happened. But even if that doesn’t occur, I’m happy for their child that Nick wants to be a part of his or her life.
“You’re going to be a great dad,” I say to Nick, since it seems like that might be just what he needs to hear right now.
The saddest smile crosses his face, though. “I just hope I have a chance, Kay. I pray the baby is okay.”
“Yeah”—I place my hand on his forearm—“me too.”
We step into the waiting room, where things have quieted. We find two empty seats, and as I sit down, I suddenly realize something: Missy told me Tony was the father in order to protect my feelings, seeing as I used to date Nick. I just wish she’d figured out that I never would have been mad or upset. Maybe she was hesitant to share the truth due to my reaction when I found out she and Chase had hooked up. But that was so completely different. My feelings for Nick never ran deep like they do for Chase.
Still, as a friend, I will always have fond feelings for Nick.
I glance over at him now and nudge his shoulder with mine. “Hey, you should be back there with Missy.”
He’s thumbing through a magazine, not really looking at the pages. “You think it’d be okay?”
I take the magazine from his hands. “Yes, of course it’s okay. She’s carrying your baby. That makes you the baby’s family.”
The mention of family makes Nick smile. But just as he stands, Mrs. Metzger rushes into the waiting room. Her face is red, and her eyes are bloodshot, like she’s been crying—hard.
Nick and I go to her. We support her on either side as she crumples.
“What is it?” I ask. “Oh, God, is Missy…?”
I’m thinking the worst—that Missy has died—but Mrs. Metzger is shaking her head.
“No, no, Missy is fine. She’ll recover.” Her eyes slide from me, then settle on Nick. “The baby, though,” she gasps, “the baby didn’t…”
Mrs. Metzger breaks down, and Nick swallows so loudly I can hear it.
“The baby is…” Nick whispers, unable to say the words, just as Mrs. Metzger couldn’t.
Missy’s mom looks at Nick and just cries harder.
I don’t need to hear the words to know Missy has lost her baby.
Suddenly, this overwhelming sense of sadness and loss washes over me, like I’m the one who’s lost something. In a way, I guess I did. The thought of a new life growing in Missy had me feeling hopeful. I hadn’t really put it into words, but Missy’s baby was a reminder to me that life is not just about loss. There are new beginnings, new chances to start over. Missy was starting over herself, turning her life around for her baby. And the baby was already such a part of how I envisioned Missy down the road, she and her child together, two, not one.
I was truly excited to get to know this new little person. But now, I will never, ever have that chance.
I want to go to Missy and comfort her. I long to comfort her mom, too. And Nick sure looks in need of support. But just then, Mrs. Metzger leans more heavily on Nick, their shared grief joining them.
I step away to give them some space. Wrapping my arms around myself, I feel like I could use some comforting as well. But comfort won’t be found here. My comfort is at home, where Chase is waiting for me. I can’t wait to see him, to have him wrap his arms around me. He finds it hard to believe, but he gives my life meaning and clarity. He makes things right.
I’ve done so well these past few weeks. The despair and grief that shaded my life for so long—over the death of my sister, Sarah—has lessened due to Chase. He brings me joy and shows me there is beauty in life, like he’s told me I do for him. But most important, he gives me life.
This sad turn of events is a reminder of how fragile life is, how things can change in an instant. One minute a life exists, growing and flourishing, and in just a second, that life can be extinguished.
Taken away, and gone forever.
Chapter Fifteen
Chase
After I finish talking on the phone with Kay, I toss my cell to the kitchen table and go back into the living room, where Will is watching TV.
Turning the volume down, he immediately asks, “Is that Missy girl going to be all right?”
I plop down on the couch next to him. “Not sure,” I respond. “Kay’s waiting to get word from Missy’s mom.”
“Is it true she’s pregnant?” Will asks quietly.
I look over at him. “How do you know that?”
He holds up his cell phone. “Jared called while you were talking to Kay. He said he overheard the paramedics talking.”
I nod once. “Yeah, Will, it’s true.”
My brother lets out a low whistle. “Shit, bro, now it’s even more fucked up that Jared crashed into her.”
“Yeah”—I scrub a hand down my face—“seems this whole day is fucked up.”
“Glad I wasn’t with him,” my brother whispers.
“Me too,” I whisper back.
While we sit with that thought, letting the gravity of it sink in, I again consider whether I should question Will as to why he and Jared were at Kyle’s house earlier. However, like I told Kay, I don’t expect to get a straight answer. And I sure as hell have no desire to argue with my brother right now. So, since he’s obviously not fucked up in any way, I decide to leave it for another day.
“What’re you watching?” I ask Will as I grab for the remote.
“Hey!” He yanks his hand away, maintaining control of the channels. “It’s SportsCenter.”
“Okay, okay,” I concede, hands in the air. “We’ll watch that.”
Will keeps his grip on the remote but lowers his hand back down to rest on his leg. It’s then that I notice he’s wearing the same pair of jeans he had on the day we started on the mural in the school. I know these are the same jeans because there’s this perfectly round dr
op of cinnamon-brown paint right above his knee. It’s the droplet that fell from Will’s paintbrush when he stepped back to assess his work. Guess it never washed out.
That day with my brother feels like a million years ago. All the shit that has happened since then—it’s crazy. I decide to forgo questioning Will about Kyle Tanner, tomorrow, the next day, whenever. I just want to enjoy the next few days with my little brother before he leaves town.
Will and I sit together awhile longer, commenting on baseball highlights. But when I catch little bro yawning, I nudge him with my elbow and say, “Hey, you should go get some sleep.”
“Yeah”—he yawns again—“I think I will.”
After Will retires to his room, I watch a little more TV. I expect Kay to walk through the door any minute, but truth be told, I am beat and end up nodding off before she returns.
I awake some time later to find that the TV has been turned off and that Kay is curled up next to me on the couch. She’s sleeping, but when I shift my body beneath her, she wakes up.
Sitting upright, she rubs her eyes and mumbles, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but I didn’t want to wake you when I first got in.” She smiles over at me. “You looked so peaceful.”
Even though she’s smiling, her red-rimmed eyes tell me she’s been crying.
I quickly straighten from where I’m leaned back in the crook of the couch. “What happened at the hospital? Is Missy okay?”
Kay slowly sits back against the cushions, but her eyes hold mine. “Yeah, Missy will recover.”
“That’s good,” I say.
“It’s not all good news, though.” Kay bites her bottom lip and lowers her gaze. When she glances up at me, her eyes are filled with not just tears, but profound sadness. “Missy lost the baby, Chase.”
“Fuck. That’s awful.”
“It is,” Kay agrees. “It’s tragic.” She slumps down into the cushions. “I found out something else tonight, too.”
I raise an eyebrow and wait for her to continue.
“Nick was the father of Missy’s baby, not Tony.”
“Wow, no way.”
Kay quickly averts her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I inquire. “That doesn’t bother you, does it?”
I can’t imagine why the paternity of Missy’s baby matters to Kay, but typical male insecurity makes my throat tighten in worry.
To my relief, Kay rolls her eyes and says, “No, Chase, I’m not bothered at all. I don’t care which Mercurio is the father. I’m just surprised, that’s all.”
I release a held-in breath with an audible exhale of air. Shit, thank God.
“What’s bothering you, then?”
The second the words leave my mouth, Kay bursts into tears.
“Oh, Chase,” she sobs, “I know it’s stupid, but every time I think of Missy losing this baby it just makes me feel so…bad.”
“Baby girl…” I reach for her, and she crawls into my lap. As she wraps her arms around my neck, I hold on to her tightly. “What can I do to make you feel better? Just tell me. I’d do anything for you.”
“I don’t know,” she croaks out against my shoulder, while she’s grasping my T-shirt in her fist. “I guess Missy’s loss reminds me of the losses in my own life.”
I know what Kay really means is that she’s reminded of one big loss—the loss of her sister, Sarah.
I hold her as she lowers her head to my chest and cries softly.
“It’s funny,” she sniffles after a minute, “but I realized at the hospital that I was looking forward to Missy having this baby.” She shifts so she can look up at me. “Chase, just last week, I was helping her set aside baby clothes.” Squeezing her eyes shut and burying her face in my chest again, she adds, “God, all the little outfits were so cute.”
I’m really at a loss as to how to soothe my girl, but I try by saying, “I’m sure Missy will have another chance to be a mom.” I cup Kay’s chin and urge her to look up at me. When her eyes meet mine, I add, “And you’ll have your chance, too.”
“I know,” she replies, nodding into my grasp. “And, to be honest, I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.”
“What have you been thinking?” I ask carefully.
“That I can’t wait to have a baby with you, Chase.”
Suddenly, Kay’s mouth snaps shut, like maybe she’s said too much. But I’m more on board that train of thought than she may realize. First, though, I need to make sure this is what she really wants.
I press my back into the couch cushions and peer down at her. “You sure you really want to have a baby with me?”
She smacks my arm, and I’m happy I’ve finally gotten her to smile. “Of course, Chase. I love you.”
I grab her up in my arms and kiss her. Then as I press my lips to the soft skin on her neck, I murmur, “I love you, too.”
But there’s more I want to say.
When my lips still, Kay tenses.
“What?” She leans back.
My eyes flick to hers. “It’s nothing bad. I was just wondering when you would want to have this baby of ours.”
Her red-rimmed caramels widen. “Um, I don’t know.” She searches my eyes, like she’s looking for guidance, but I’m open to whatever she wants. “Down the road, I guess?”
“Is that a question?” I ask her. “Or your answer?”
She shrugs, and I ask outright, “Kay, would you rather have a baby sooner than, as you say, ‘down the road’?”
She whispers, “Chase, what are you saying?”
I don’t know how to put into words all the things I feel for this woman. But I’ve known for quite some time that I want to make a baby with Kay, all the way back to the day she showed me the journals she keeps to remind her of Sarah. I long to make a life with her still, partly to make up for all she’s lost. But it’s so much more than that. When I dig deep, down into my soul, I know I want this, too. I long to create life with the woman who has shown me living is possible. And not just that it is possible, but that living can be good.
I want this for me, for her—for us. I want this for the baby we can make together and for the love we’d shower on that child.
With all this in mind, in an uncharacteristically shaky voice, I ask Kay, “Would it be so terrible if we didn’t wait?”
She presses her lips together, like she’s contemplating. “It’d be great, Chase,” she says slowly. “But it’s not going to happen anytime soon. I got the Depo shot back in June, remember?”
Shit. Who would’ve ever thought I’d be cursing responsible birth control? Not me. But I am.
Rubbing the back of my neck, I want to know, “When are you supposed to get another shot?”
Kay looks off to the side and, I assume, calculates the weeks. “The end of September,” she states after a beat.
I arch a brow. “So…don’t get it.”
“Chase,” she breathes out, “I don’t know. I mean, I want to spend my life with you, have kids with you—all of those things. But we’re not even married.”
Ah, so there’s the cause of her hesitation. Hell, I can take care of that shit right now. It may not be ideal, but sometimes you have to grab the opportunity.
Smiling and holding Kay’s gaze, I slip down to the floor. She shoots me a concerned look as I position myself on my knees. Then, facing the woman I love with everything I am, I take her hands in mine.
“I know this is half-assed and less than ideal, but…” I trail off, and when I look up, her eyes are tearing. But not from sadness like before. No, these are happy tears.
My own vision blurs a little, but I forge on. “Make me a happy man, Kay Stanton. Be my wife. Let’s get married, and then we’ll have babies. Or let’s have babies, and then we’ll get married. However you want to do it, sweet girl, is fine by me.”
“You’re really asking me to marry you?”
“Yes, I am. I love you, Kay. Say you’ll marry me. I’ll get you a ring, I promise. And I’ll ask you again, do it all
fancy like, if that’s what you want. But say yes right now. Say you’ll marry me. Let me love you forever.”
She nods, once, twice. She keeps nodding, even as she’s sliding to the floor next to me. She then tells me what I want to hear: “Yes.”
I brush her hair back with both of my hands. While my thumbs swipe at the tears on her cheeks, I check to make sure I heard her correctly. “Really? You’ll marry me?”
She nods in my hands. “Yes, of course.”
“Say it again,” I whisper, my lips nearing hers.
“Yes.”
“Again,” I insist, inching closer.
“Yes, Chase. Yes, yes!”
My lips capture hers, and I kiss her, her lips, her cheeks, and right down her beautiful neck. I cover her skin with my love. And though there’s no chance of making a baby tonight, I insist we should practice.
Kay giggles and agrees. “We should definitely practice a lot.” She pulls me to her, whispering against my lips, “And I think we should get started as soon as possible.”
“I could not agree more,” I say, and then that is exactly what we do.
Chapter Sixteen
Kay
Maybe all the crazy things that have happened lately have resulted in full-on delirium—for both Chase and me. I don’t know, not really. But how else can I explain waking up the morning after discussing love, and marriage, and babies, and suddenly remembering I am now an officially-unofficially engaged woman?
I roll over, smiling, happy. It’s barely dawn, and my cohort in delirium is facing my way. But he’s still sleeping, backlit by early daylight. I don’t want to wake Chase—he looks so peaceful—but the urge to touch him is so strong that I have to reach out, trace the strong line of his jaw.
My touch rouses him. And though his eyes open, we don’t say a word. As the minutes pass, Chase’s lips curve into a smile. And me, I just stare into beautiful blue.