by Tara Brown
“I have go to the bathroom.” I should hug her, she’s sobbing, but I can’t. I need to know what the hell is going on. I get up from the bed and pull my phone out and call Brady as I close the door.
“Hey, babe. I said I’d call you when I could,” he answers rudely.
“How’s Matt?” I whisper, savagely.
“Rough. How do you think?”
“Where are you guys?” I don't want to hear his bullshit.
“His place. Why?” Brady’s losing patience with me.
“Because he hasn't called Sami once, and I think it’s weird he doesn’t want the girl he loves the most in the whole world to be by his side while he grieves and suffers. Who would you call if your mom died?” I snap back at him.
“Probably my brother, Natalie. It’s a family thing and you’re not my fam—” He stops what he’s saying but it’s too late. “You know what I mean. Like you’re just my girl—it’s not the same thing. His dad and brother are gone and his mom’s a mess. His dad’s family is arriving all day, to come and help out. This place is a zoo. I didn't mean—”
I click the phone off and stare at it, wondering if that actually just happened.
I don't even know what to say or how to explain to her that we’re just girlfriends. We’re just hockey wives. We’re just girls. We’re a step up from puck buddies, we’re bed buddies and roommates but not part of the family. We’re good enough to fuck but not important enough to be with when tragedy strikes.
Swallowing my ugly feelings, I realize I have to leave the bathroom. I need a plan. I need to cheer her up. I need to distract her, and myself.
Taking a breath, I leave the bathroom, giving her a smile. All I can do is hope it’s better than her fake one, while I come up with an idea. “Hey, so I was thinking, if you’re going to have a kid, maybe you should consider a beach house somewhere closer to the city. Somewhere you could have the baby and be safe and quiet and alone. And then maybe if you’re already decorating, you could consider a nursery or something. Like later down the road.” I say all the things I might want to hear at a time like this. She needs to be supported and comforted.
“Closer to the city?” she asks, appearing confused as she wipes her face. “Not in France for celebrities to rent?” She sort of laughs but there’s no joy in the sound she makes.
“No. More like Hamptons where you can picture your kid running on the beach and playing.”
She grabs her phone and taps the screen and then holds the phone out.
“Hello, my lovely girl,” Maxine answers, sounding giddy for a moment and then it changes to concerned. “Sami, are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Can you find us houses in the Hamptons to buy for the beach house? I want to think young family for this one, something I could grow into, not party at. I want six listings and no friggin’ log homes.”
“Okay, dear.” She laughs. “No log homes! I’ll have a list set up for you to see tomorrow. We’re running out of time. A car will pick you up at eight. Be ready.”
“Okay.” She clicks the phone off. “You’re right. The people would be more inspired by us being real. And girls get pregnant. Even people in our generation.” She curls up, hugging her knees. She has never looked more altered in our entire friendship.
“We have to tell your mom though. She needs to know. You need an ally. And we need to figure out what to do. Like doctors and shit.”
She cringes. “I know. I’m gonna need her to help me smooth this over with my dad.”
“Do you want me to go get her now?”
“No.” She shakes her head but the headshakes turn to nods. “Yeah.”
“Okay.” I hurry from the room, heading straight for her mom’s bedroom. She’s napping, she’s always napping. She runs a tight sleep schedule.
Nadia meets me in the hallway, carrying fresh linens. “Is something wrong?”
“I need Sami’s mom. Can you get her and tell her Sami needs her?”
“Is she all right?” Her eyes widen.
“Yeah, she’s gonna tell her.” I lift my eyebrows, trying to give her a signal of exactly what it is.
“Oh.” Her surprised look turns serious. “I’ll get her.”
I wait in the hall. I need to smooth things over before Mrs. Ford goes in the room, prepare her so to speak.
Nadia reappears after a couple of moments. “She’s coming.” She hurries down the stairs, leaving me to wait alone.
It takes more like ten minutes for her mom to leave the room, yawning and stretching. She straightens when she sees me. “Natalie?”
“I need to ask you a favor.” This is so awkward.
“Anything, dear, you know that.”
“Sami’s got something to tell you. Can you promise that you’ll be patient?”
Fear creeps across her almost frozen face. “Possibly. What is it?”
“She should tell you herself. I’ll wait in the hall.”
She swallows like there’s a lump in her throat, but she walks to the room, leaving me to sit back on the chaise lounge and wait.
Chapter 22
Mommy Dearest
April 11, 2016
Sami
The sickness is back, taunting me with false nausea, but I can’t move. My mother opens the door, giving me a worried smile.
“You needed to see me?” She sounds soft, like how moms should sound.
“I’m pregnant.” I just say it. I don't know how to beat around this bush. I want to tear the bush out of the ground and stomp on it, but that's not an option.
She freezes, swallowing hard and grimacing. She blinks once, her eyes get glossy, and she sighs. “Okay.” She starts walking again.
Tears, the same assholes I’ve been weeping for two days, creep into my eyes again. I blink them down my cheeks as she sits on my bed.
“My sweet girl.” She wipes them away. “Matt Brimley?” she asks because of course everyone has to make me feel like I’m that girl. I was that girl once so I don't take offense.
“Yeah.”
“And his father—” She stops herself, pausing and thinking. “When did you fig—?”
“Yesterday. It was Nadia. She noticed I didn't have a period last month and I’m late. And we did two tests.”
“Of course.” She lowers her gaze. “What do you want to—?”
“Please don't ask that. There’s one option: have this baby. I can’t imagine a different route.”
She reaches for me, her hand trembling as she places it on my stomach. She smiles a little. “Okay. I’m glad.” The warmth of her fingers through my tee shirt makes me shiver. “I used to touch my belly like this when I was pregnant with you.” She sniffles and glances down. “You asked me if your father and I have ever loved each other, and I said no. But that was a lie.” She closes her eyes and pauses. “When I looked at you for the first time, I loved him. And I know he felt the same. You’re our love, Sami. You’re proof of that. And this baby will have it even better. Matt and you love each other. It’s obvious to the blind. His dad just died, but you’ll work this out.”
“I don't think I’m going to tell him.” I say it like a question because I want her opinion of that. “His family, and the chaos. I don't think it’s a good time.”
“That’s an understatement.” She snorts. “But babies never come when you want them to, they come when they should. And there is nothing to be done now, there’s a baby in here. Waiting will only make him feel left out and angry. You should tell him.”
“Okay,” I agree but I have no intention of telling him until he’s done with the obligations of the deaths.
“Has he called you?” She lifts her gaze to mine. Her eyes are dazzling with tears in them. I don't know if they’re good tears or bad, but she’s being amazingly supportive. I didn't expect this from her, but I need it.
“No. He hasn't called or texted.”
“Are you fighting?”
“No. He just pushed me away when they died. He wants to be alone,
I guess. I don't know.”
“Okay.” A worried scowl crosses her brow. “Well, let's get the doctors involved and ensure everything is healthy and then we’ll worry about the Brimleys.” She says “we” and for the first time in a long time, I feel like she’s my we. She and Nat and Dad are my we, and even though I’m alone, I’m not alone in this.
“Thanks, Mom,” my voice cracks.
“For what?”
“Being cool.” I blink more tears.
“Sami, you’re my child. The only one I will ever have. All I want is for you to be happy and—” She wants to add successful but she doesn't. “And you’ve truly proven yourself this year, you’ve matured a lot. If this was last year, I think I might have freaked out a bit, but this year you've proven what kind of person you are. You’ve shown your drive, intelligence, passion, and now you will show the world what a fashionable, young mother looks like, instead of a young singleton.” She cringes but forces the last sentence out. “With or without the Brimleys.”
I lean in, wrapping myself around her. She pats me, hugging in a stiff sort of way. It’s her best.
“You’re a Ford, remember that.” What she means is we’re better than the Brimleys, but she doesn't say it. “Now, I’m going to call Dr. Zara and get us an appointment. He’ll want to recommend you to the best ob-gyn in the city.” She tries not to stagger and I appreciate the effort. It’s siesta time.
When she leaves, Nat comes in a second later. “How’d it go?”
“Good.” I furrow my brow. “She was really cool about it. I suspect she’ll be downstairs crying and guzzling the vodka straight from the bottle, but it went well. She was nice. Weirdly nice.”
“That’s awesome.” Nat sits next to me. “What do you want to do now?”
“Sleep.” I nod once. “I need some sleep. I feel like shit.”
“Okay. You sleep and I’ll go over some of the designs for next week. Our big launch is May thirty-first, so we need to make sure everything’s perfect.”
“Okay.” I curl up on the bed, holding my stomach.
Nat leaves and I roll onto my back, looking at the flat area where life is actually taking over. It’s so strange to me that something—someone—is chilling in there. Some tiny seed person.
My phone rings, flashing Carson’s name. I lift it, swiping to answer, “Hey.”
“Hey, how’s it going?” He sounds weird.
“Fucking brutal. How’s it going for you?” Why is he asking such a weird question at such a weird time?
“Right.” He chuckles nervously. “Uhhhh, did you hear?”
“Hear what?”
“Matt’s dad’s dying decision was to leave everything to Matt. The money, the companies, the properties. Matt’s mom and him had a fairly tight prenup; she got a good settlement and some houses, but the lion’s share went to Matt.”
“Oh God.” I cringe.
“I know.”
“So he has to quit?” I feel sick for him. “I can’t believe his dad would do this to him.”
“I can. He wanted Matt outta hockey and now Matt’s out. His last game with the Rangers is the twenty-third of April.”
“Wow.” I sigh.
“Has he called you at all?” he asks softly, like he knows the answer.
“No. Nothing. Not a text, nothing.”
“How about Baby Brimley?”
“I’m keeping it. I told my mom, she gets it. I’m not telling my dad until we have our company lifted off and we’ve scheduled everything for the first year, so I can hide if I have to.”
“Are you going to tell Matt?” Again, he treads carefully.
“No.” I hate the lies and the secrecy of not telling him.
“He’s got a lot on his plate, Sami. Maybe—”
“Don't, don't say it. I don't care. I don't need him or you or anyone. So if you disagree, I’ll be fine, feel free to fuck off.” I hang up the phone and toss it on the floor.
Tears threaten me but I refuse them. I push them down, like I always do, and go back to touching my stomach, pretending the little human can understand my thoughts.
I don't know what else to do.
This level of mess is not something I’m comfortable with.
Chapter 23
Me or him
April 17, 2016
Natalie
Pacing the living room of the mansion overlooking the beach, I’m craving a good video game session.
This week has been bullshit.
The highs and lows have nearly killed me.
Liz is ecstatic, texting pictures of wedding venues and asking me a million questions. I’m trying to be there for her, but the circumstances are unbearable.
Sami’s being weird, rightfully so. She’s holding it together, acting like she doesn't really care that Matt’s a dick.
Brady’s leaving me messages, defending Matt at every turn, claiming the stress Matt’s under is too much to deal with Sami and we should distance ourselves from their mess.
And on top of all that, our company is going live soon. We have to finish everything right now. All the photo shoots, all the decorating and renos of the houses, and approval of all the brands and placements in photos.
I’m a hot mess.
Maxine is nattering on, telling Sami how this particular beach house was the right choice: it’s close to her parents’ house and a premium property. Sami’s writing the offer with Maxine while we do our third viewing.
My phone rings, flashing Brady’s name. I click the phone off and pocket it, but I don't stop pacing.
“Sami!”
As if my nerves aren’t shot enough, I spin, horrified at the sight of Will strolling into the massive living room. His eyes dart to me. “Nat, I didn't know you’d be here too. Good to see you girls.” He grins, sporting a decent tan for April.
Bile rises in my throat but I manage a pleasant smile. “Hey.”
Sami offers a subtle wave and glances back at me. “I’m going to get some air.” She glares like I better be getting air too. But I don't. I don't move. I can’t.
“Hi, William.” Maxine follows Sami out. “One other thing, sweetie, is we need to consider if any of the furniture has to go into the proposal.” Their voices get quieter.
Will folds his arms and grins. “I didn't believe it when I heard Sami was buying down the beach from us.”
My heart stops. I turn, glancing outside and trying to figure out where his house is.
“That way.” He points in the other direction.
“Cool.”
“It is.” He strolls over, looking casual as though he’s spent the day yachting. “Maybe it’s kismet.”
“I think more like karmic punishment for something,” I sneer, not forgetting what he did to me.
“Nat, don't be like that.” He comes close, too close. “I miss you.” His eyes lower to my chest. I contemplate kicking him in the nuts but my phone rings again. I ignore it, letting it vibrate in my pocket. “Is that a phone?” He chuckles.
“No.” I try to answer like Sami would.
“My father and I have been to a couple of the games, to see that guy you’re seeing play. He’s quite good.”
I hate small talk.
“He is. His name’s Brady.”
“Right, I think I knew that. He was the one who’d slept with my date, at the party, the model—”
“Don't.” My blood starts to rise. “Let’s not start counting conquests. His are all random girls who like hockey players. Yours are my friends. My ex-friends.”
He winces. “I didn't mean—”
“Yes, you did. You always mean to be a dick. You say everything with a stupid fucking smile so you can say I’m taking it that way, but you mean it that way. You’re just too big of a pussy to admit it.”
“Nice mouth on you. I guess I should be glad I dodged this bullet. I didn't know that you were as common as your parents. I figured a lifetime with the upper classes might have taught you how to be a lady, but I guess trash i
s always going to be trash.”
“Are you serious?” Sami storms into the room, hearing the tail end. “Get the fuck outta my house, William Fairfield. If I ever see you again, I’ll shoot your pin dick off.” She points. “If you EVER even glance her way, I will hire people—”
I clamp my hand over her lips and smile politely. “What she means is, thanks for stopping by, Will. But we don't like you. So fuck off and die. On your own. Not because Sami hires people.”
“Sluts.” He growls and heads out of the room, stomping extra hard.
I have to hold Sami back as he leaves. She struggles to get free and kill him, but I grab her hair.
“OW!” she shouts, following me closer so it doesn't pull.
When the door slams I let go. “You can’t fight, you’re pregnant.”
“And you can’t always cheat, Nat. You have to learn to fight fair.”
“Uhm, there’s a large man beating up that Fairfield boy on the grass.” Maxine points to the massive foyer.
“What?” I run for the front door, flinging it open and shouting, “Brady!”
He’s got Will jerseyed, again, and his fists are flying in uppercut sort of punches, feeding him shots.
Lori grabs Brady, dragging him off. “He’s had enough. Brady! He’s had enough!”
Will staggers off to the side, his mouth and nose are bleeding. “I’m going to sue you!”
“Go ahead.” Brady charges at him again but Lori drags him back.
“You hit him first and I witnessed it, Fairfield. Don't even,” Lori shouts at him. Will storms off to his car, getting in the back.
I lift a middle finger at the car as the driver speeds off.
“Wow, I don't own the house yet and there’s already a scandal,” Sami mutters, looking unimpressed.
Brady is huffing his breaths, looking jacked up. He has a red welt on his left cheek but other than that he’s unscathed. When his gaze finds mine he melts. “Babe. I’ve been trying to call you.”
“I know,” I snap and spin, storming back into the house.