Bring Me Home

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Bring Me Home Page 4

by Cassia Leo


  have his soft little body in my arms, he smiles at me. He reaches for my face and I grab his hand to lay a soft kiss on his chubby fingers.

  “You’re so beautiful,” I tell him as his fingers curl around my thumb and he shakes it like a rattle.

  He might as well be shaking my soul, because I feel as if all my thoughts have settled into place. Something shifts inside me and I realize that I have no more doubts about seeing Abby. I’m going to meet my daughter. And even if it’s the last time I ever see or touch her, it will still be the happiest, most honest moment of my life.

  Chapter Eight

  Adam

  The three-hour drive from Durham to Carolina Beach is much less excruciating than I thought it would be with Lindsay sitting in the passenger seat. I promised her I would give her a ride to her parents house for Thanksgiving since Cora’s apartment and my parents’ house are just ten minutes away. I didn’t expect to feel this strange comfort inside me, knowing that Lindsay and Kaia won’t be spending the holiday alone.

  “I tried calling Nathan again this morning, but I didn’t have the energy to leave another voicemail,” she says as we pull onto the highway. “Kaia was fussing all night and she didn’t even have a fever. I’m so tired.”

  I don’t say anything about Nathan, even though I really just want to badmouth that little gold-toothed motherfucker. I always knew Lindsay would regret leaving me for him, but I never expected him to pull some shit like this after the act he put on in Hawaii. Maybe it wasn’t an act. Maybe he just found someone in California who he connected with. Or maybe he just realized that he’s not ready to be a father. Whatever the case is, I can’t help but feel obligated to help Lindsay through this.

  “You should ask your mom to watch Kaia for a little while today so you can take a nap.”

  “I don’t trust my mom with Kaia. She’ll probably give her an eating disorder by the time I wake up from my nap.”

  Lindsay’s mom is a nutritionist. When she wasn’t telling her clients what to eat, she was busy making Lindsay feel like she shouldn’t eat. Lindsay told me about her bout with anorexia during her freshman year at Duke. I didn’t meet her until our sophomore year, but she showed me pictures from the months leading up to her hospitalization and it was not pretty. When we lived together, I would catch her throwing away entire meals in the garbage then piling more trash on top of the food so I wouldn’t notice.

  She seems to be healthy now. Maybe it’s a result of the pregnancy, but I catch myself stealing glances at her legs and chest as I drive. As much as I don’t want to, I keep imagining what she looks like underneath those skin-tight jeans and that soft, cream-colored sweater.

  “Were you just ogling my tits?” she asks.

  I snap my eyes back to the road. “No. I’m….” Fuck. There’s no way to deny that. “You’ve… grown.”

  She laughs as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Yeah, it’s called breast milk.”

  “You breast-feed her?”

  For some reason, this takes me by surprise. The thought of it gives me a strange feeling inside, a feeling I don’t want to give in to. A feeling that can only be described as admiration.

  “Uh, yes. It’s better for her and she’s never fussy or gassy, except for last night.”

  A soft whimpering comes from the backseat where Kaia is lying in her car seat, but the whimpering quickly turns to a rattling cry for attention.

  “Should we pull over?” I ask. I don’t want to have to listen to that for the next two to three hours.

  “She’s probably hungry. She was asleep for a couple of hours when you picked us up. I should have just sat in the back with her. Yes, please pull over.”

  I pull my truck onto the shoulder of the highway and Lindsay hops out. She climbs into the backseat and, for a brief panicky moment, I’m afraid she’s going to pull out her breast to feed Kaia right in front of me. Instead, she reaches down and lifts the diaper bag off the floor then retrieves a bottle of milk from an insulated pouch. She smiles as she pulls Kaia out of the car seat and cradles her in her arms. Kaia stops crying before the bottle even touches her lips.

  I spin around in my seat as I watch in awe. The Lindsay I knew eight months ago barely knew how to take care of herself. Now she holds the life of another human being in her hands.

  “You seem to know what you’re doing.”

  She kisses Kaia’s fuzzy head then looks up at me, her eyes full of uncertainty. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Adam. All I know is I’m probably going to be doing this alone for a very long time.”

  As soon as she makes this sad statement, Kaia turns her face away from the bottle and begins to wail again.

  “Shit. Not again,” Lindsay says as she grabs a cloth out of the diaper bag and wipes the milk from Kaia’s cheek.

  She looks up at me as the baby continues to cry and I feel like she’s expecting me to say or do something.

  “What?”

  “Can you please turn around?”

  “Oh, yeah, sorry.”

  I can’t see what she’s doing, but I can see it all happening in my mind. Almost instantly, Kaia’s fussing is replaced by a very distinct sucking noise. I get a strange urge to call or text Claire, anything to help me not think the things I’m thinking about Lindsay right now.

  A joke. That’s what this situation needs.

  “Hey, what does a nosy pepper do?”

  “What? Another joke?”

  “He gets jalapeño business.”

  She laughs so hard that Kaia lets out a startled yelp. I turn around instinctively and quickly turn the other way when I glimpse Lindsay’s breast.

  “Shit! Sorry.”

  “What the hell?” she cries as she continues to laugh. “It’s not like you’ve never seen my tits.”

  I reach for my keys in the ignition, desperate to start the car and drive far away from this embarrassing moment.

  “Are you almost done?” I ask, trying not to sound too anxious.

  “Adam, relax. It’s just a breast. I’m feeding my child. Get over it.”

  I take my hand off the keys and close my eyes as I lean back, scared that I might be tempted to look in the rearview mirror. I need to get the fuck out of this truck, or I need to get Lindsay the hell out of here.

  “I’ll be right back,” I mutter as I grab my phone out of the cup holder and hop out of the truck.

  I step in front of the truck and quickly dial Claire’s number. She picks up on the first ring.

  “Hey.”

  Just the sound of her voice eases my anxiety. “Hey.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I was just thinking about you. Are you at Senia’s?”

  “Yeah. We just finished eating. They’re about to turn on the karaoke machine.”

  I smile at the thought of Claire singing. I caught her singing a Rihanna song in the shower once and it was adorable. God, I fucking miss her.

  “What are you going to sing?”

  “I don’t know. I was thinking of singing something from the Grease soundtrack.”

  “Summer Lovin’?” She’s silent after I say this, which makes me think I must have said something wrong. “Are you okay?”

  She sighs into the phone. “I’m fine. Actually, I’m really happy.”

  “Why are you so happy?”

  “I’m finally going to see Abigail on Monday.”

  My mind immediately flashes to what I just saw in the backseat of the truck right now. There’s no doubt that Lindsay loves Kaia with all her heart. You could see it in the look of love on her face as she soothed her. I want Claire to feel that bond with Abigail, but I also want to spare her the pain of having that bond broken if Abigail’s parents don’t agree to further visitation.

  “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  She’s silent for a moment before she sucks in a sharp breath and responds. “Yes, Adam, this is what I want. I’m not going to fall apart if this is the last time I see her. For fuck’s sake,
I’ve endured worse. I know I made the right decision giving her up, even if it wasn’t the right decision for me. It was the right decision for her. Please stop questioning me. It makes me feel like you have no faith in my ability to make a sound decision.”

  “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “And I appreciate that, but please give me some credit. I’m beginning to think—”

  She stops before finishing this sentence and I’m suddenly aware of the whooshing sound of cars rushing past me on the highway. “What are you beginning to think?”

  “Nothing. I have to get back to the festivities before Senia comes back here for me.”

  “Claire?”

  “Yes.”

  “I have some things I want to talk to you about when you have more time. Can you call me after you see Abigail? I want to make sure you’re okay to talk.”

  “Yeah, I’ll call you. Is everything okay?”

  I pause as I take a deep breath that reeks of exhaust. “Everything’s fine. Have a good Thanksgiving. I’ll call you later to say goodnight.”

  “Okay,” she whispers before she hangs up.

  I want to blurt out that I love her. It’s something I had gotten so used to saying every time we said goodbye, but everything has changed. I’m beginning to think the love I felt for Claire was more desire than love. I have a strong desire for Claire to be happy, even if that means she’s happy without me.

  Chapter Nine

  Chris

  Monday is a day most people dread. When you’re an entertainer, you don’t work normal hours, so Monday feels just like any other day. Unless, of course, Monday happens to be the day you finally get to hold your daughter in your arms after knowing of her existence for three and a half months. Unless Monday is the day you get to watch the person you love more than life have their one wish granted. Then, Monday becomes the day your life changes. I can only hope this isn’t the last Monday I ever wake up with this much hope.

  I’m sitting on the sofa with my guitar when the front door opens. Though I’m nervous as hell, I can’t help but smile as Claire enters the house without knocking or ringing the doorbell.

  I lay my guitar on the sofa and stand carefully. “Are you ready to go?” I ask.

  Her gaze slides over me, taking in my clothing. Her eyes widen as she stares at my mouth.

  “Where’s your lip ring?”

  “I took it out.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m trying to make a good impression.”

  “You’re wearing a suit?”

  “You have to admit it looks good on me.”

  “Well, there’s no denying that, but you look like you’re about to walk down a runway or into a boardroom for an important meeting.”

  “This is an important meeting, babe. I don’t want to fuck it up.”

  She looks down at her outfit, a black blazer over a teal dress, and ankle boots. “We don’t look like we belong together.”

  I step toward her, making sure she doesn’t notice the discomfort in my leg, and stop just a few inches away from her. She doesn’t flinch as I reach for her face.

  “You look beautiful,” I say as I sweep a soft lock of hair behind her ear. “And very responsible.”

  “Shut up.”

  I laugh as she shoves my chest. “Come on, let’s get out of here before we’re late.”

  Once we’re settled inside my mom’s Volvo, my mind flashes back to the last time we did this. To say I was devastated after Abigail’s parents cancelled our first scheduled meeting would be a hell of an understatement. I almost expect my phone to ring at any moment with the news that they’ve cancelled again.

  As I pull the car out of the driveway, I notice Claire’s hands shaking in her lap. I glance at her face and the muscle in her jaw twitches as she clenches her teeth.

  “You okay?”

  She nods quickly.

  I reach across and take her hand in mine. Instantly, the trembling stops. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes.

  “Chris, you know I don’t pray, but I want to pray right now. I want to pray that Abigail will feel how much I love her when I hold her. Is that stupid?”

  “Not at all. I want the same. I keep dreading that the second I hold her in my arms she’ll start crying.”

  Just speaking these words aloud fills me with both relief and dread. I squeeze her hand as I continue toward downtown, toward the three people in this world who possess the power to both bring Claire and me closer together and tear us apart. I pull my hand away and from the corner of my eye I can see Claire looking at me.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks in a small voice.

  I wait until I’m stopped at a red light to face her. “I’m afraid.”

  “Afraid of what?”

  “Afraid that I’m too happy right now. I’m afraid that holding Abby will make me happier than I’ve ever felt and I’m afraid of what will happen if that’s taken away from me forever. I’m afraid of being too angry to forgive you.”

  Her mouths falls open, stunned as she tries to catch her breath. “Oh…. I don’t know what to say.”

  “I’m not trying to make you feel bad, I’m just being honest. I’m afraid of what this will do to us. As happy as I am to see Abby, I know that I’m not guaranteed another second beyond today with her. With you…. I don’t want to lose you.”

  I turn right onto the street where the Jensens’ lawyer’s office is located. I glance at Claire every few seconds, waiting for her response, but she just stares straight ahead in a daze.

  “Claire, I love you,” I say as I reach for her hand again. “But all that matters right now is Abby. Let’s go meet our baby and worry about the rest later. Deal?”

  She turns to me and smiles weakly. “Deal.”

  The parking lot is almost completely empty. It’s nearly seven p.m. on a Monday. Most people have gone home for the day while Claire and I are just finding our way home. We make our way up to the seventh floor, to the offices of Hirschberg, Leidenbach, and Associates. The whole building oozes money and, though I’ve got plenty of that, I feel uncomfortable knowing Claire is probably intimidated by the atmosphere.

  “I need to tell you something,” I say as we walk down the seventh floor corridor toward a set of tall, glass double-doors. “I stretched the truth a little and told the Jensens we’re back together.”

  She smiles, not looking the slightest bit annoyed. “I’m so happy right now, my heart is about to jump out of my chest. I don’t think anything you tell me will upset me.”

  I grab her hand and she laughs as I pull her close enough to feel the warmth of her body against mine. Bringing my lips to her ear, I whisper, “When we are back together, I’ll help you study every day.”

  Her hand slides over my chest and she shoves me away. “Still not mad.”

  I lean over and kiss her cheekbone. She smiles and shakes her head as I reach for the handle on the tall glass door.

  “After you, babe.”

  “Thank you.”

  The receptionist looks up from her computer screen as we enter the lobby and I quickly grab Claire’s hand to let her know I’m not available. Claire doesn’t look at me, but I glimpse a barely-there smile on her face from the corner of my eye. It’s nice to be admired just about everywhere I go, but I don’t need anyone but Claire’s admiration anymore. It took a while to figure that out, but I’m not about to fuck that up again.

  “We’re here to see Ira Hirschberg,” I say to the receptionist, not bothering to introduce Claire or myself.

  She fiddles with the braid draped over her shoulder for a moment, then she dials an extension and speaks into her headset. “Chris Knight is here to see you.”

  She glances at Claire as she waits for a response, so I take the opportunity to lean over and lay a soft kiss on Claire’s temple.

  Claire turns to me so our noses are almost touching. “Take it easy. This is a law office, not a bedroom.”

  I lean over to whis
per in her ear. “I’m just trying to give you what you want. And right now, you want everyone here to know we’re madly in love.”

  A man with curly salt-and-pepper hair and thick bifocals comes out to greet us. “Come on in,” he says in a gravelly voice as he holds open the door to the back office area. “The Jensens just arrived, so this is perfect timing. I’m Ira Hirschberg. You can call me Ira.”

  We shake hands and as soon as we step through the doorway, I relax a little when I see a few messy desks. We pass through a corridor of cubicles until we reach a glass wall, beyond which I glimpse Brian, Lynette, and Abigail Jensen. God, it kills me that she doesn’t have my last name.

  Ira opens the door for us again—a humble lawyer is always a good sign—and I wait for Claire as she hesitantly steps into the conference room. She claps her hand over her mouth at the sight of Abigail and I know this is going to be more difficult than I ever imagined it would be.

  “Oh, my God,” she whispers through her fingers. “Oh, my God.”

  I place my hand on the small of her back to guide her forward, but she’s rooted in place. “Claire, babe, are you okay?”

  She bites her lip and nods slowly as she steps forward. I can see the hesitation on Lynette and Brian’s faces as we approach. Brian is holding Abby as she stands on the table. His eyes are focused completely on Abby, as if he doesn’t want to acknowledge our presence.

  “Honey?” Lynette says to get Brian’s attention.

  Lynette looks me up and down a few times. She seems a bit dazed by the suit. Brian scoops Abby off the table and into his arms then turns to face us.

  “We’re going to be right outside,” Brian says in a deep, rumbling growl.

  Ira looks back and forth between Brian and me. “I have to stay in here, if you don’t mind.”

  “That’s fine. Thank you so much for allowing us this visit,” I say to Brian and he nods as he hands Abby over to me.

  She reaches for Brian as he steps away and my heart aches as I realize she doesn’t know me or want me.

  “It’s okay, baby girl,” Brian says as he leads Lynette out of the conference room.

  It’s as if these words flip a switch inside Abby and she turns to look at me. Her soft blonde hair curls up around her ears and neck and her body is so squishy and warm in my arms. I want to squeeze her tightly and never let her go.

  Her wispy eyebrows shoot up, like she’s surprised to see me. I smile at her and her eyes widen.

  “It’s okay, princess.”

  She still looks uncertain as her gaze shifts back and forth between Claire and me. Her upper lip curls up and I’m afraid this is it—she’s going to cry. So I do the only thing I know how to do. Because this is my daughter, I know there is

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