“I will, Pop.”
“I planned on raising you little heathens out in California, but I think you had a pretty good life here,” he said.
My longing to live in Southern California had never faded, and I doubted it ever would. I simply hadn’t acted upon my desire to move there. I wondered if I ever would. Expressing my disappointments in the Midwest would crush my father, so I never told him how I truly felt.
“My childhood was as good any kid could have hoped for,” I said.
Jess excused herself and went to the bathroom. While she was gone, my father and I discussed book ideas. When she returned, she looked ill.
“You okay, sweetheart?” my father asked.
“I think I’m sick,” she said.
“What can I get you?” he asked.
Her eyes met mine.
Something was wrong.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I’m sick. I think we need to go.”
“Bad?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve got really bad cramps.”
“Probably need to poop,” my father said. “Never could do that at a stranger’s house. Something about the comfort of a man’s own home that allows him to have a proper release.”
“Do you want to go?”
She nodded.
We bid our farewells and left. The entire drive home, Jess was convinced my father was right. She said she felt that she simply needed to go to the bathroom but couldn’t seem to do it.
She dropped me off at the corner with a kiss, and then went home. As I rode the elevator up to my floor, I prayed that everything was alright with our baby.
I quickly became immersed in my work, attempting to finish the third book in the boxer series. I included elements of my personal life. What Jess and I had experienced. In the end, I added a little surprise for the readers.
My phone rang. I picked it up and looked at the screen. Two hours had somehow passed since Jess dropped me off.
I picked up the phone and answered it.
“I feel like crap,” Jess said.
“Get some sleep. You’re pregnant. We’ve been running around like idiots. Go, go, go. That’s all we do. Take some time off. I’m sure you’re just exhausted.”
“You’re probably right.”
“Get some sleep, Baby. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
The next three days passed, with Jess feeling sick most of the time. At six weeks into her pregnancy, we wrote it off as an aggravated form of morning sickness. On the night of the fourth day, my phone rang again.
Jess was sobbing.
“What’s wrong, Baby?”
Her crying was the only sound I could hear.
“What? Did it get more painful?”
The crying continued. After a moment, she sucked a few choppy breaths.
“Our…baby,” she sobbed.
I leaped from my stool. “What? What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”
“I uhhm. I had…I had…I’m so sorry, Scott.”
“Baby? What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”
“I don’t know…I don’t know what I did wrong,” she said, her voice distant. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sure we can fix it. What happened?”
“I had a miscarriage,” she blubbered. “Our baby. I’m in the bathroom. It’s uhhm…it’s…I don’t know what to do…”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The thought of Jess enduring the pain of our loss alone crushed me. By contract, she had to give thirty days’ notice to move out of her apartment. The notice had to come at the first day of the month. In short, we were two weeks away from being able to give thirty days’ notice.
Or, six weeks from being able to move in together.
“We need to figure out something about getting you in here,” I said. “Right now.”
Jess looked at me. Her eyes were distant and no longer possessed the luster they once did. “You still want us to move in?” she asked.
“What?” I gave her a look. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“I’m not pregnant anymore,” she said. “There’s no need.”
My heart sank at the thought of her believing what she’d said. Nothing could be further from the truth. At that juncture, I desired her more than ever. I no longer wanted to have her come and go when it was convenient.
I yearned for the comfort of having her in my arms every night. Of falling asleep with her at my side. Waking in the mornings with the first scent to hit my nostrils being the sweet hint of her previous night’s perfume.
Seeing the content look her face wore when she slept. Playing an active part in raising Landon and Lily. Teaching them the complications and rewards associated with life. Making them aware of the mistakes I’d made in living my life, so they could live theirs without making the same choices. Watching them grow from children to teens, and from teens to young adults.
I hugged her. “Me asking you to move in had nothing to do with the pregnancy. It had everything to do with me loving you and the kids. I want you here.”
Her face lit up. “Really?”
“Absolutely.”
“Are you sure?”
“I can’t imagine living life any other way,” I said.
“I was worried you wouldn’t want us here.”
I stepped away, looked at her, and then pulled her close. I was angry, frustrated, disappointed, and in tremendous pain, but I was also deeply in love. I wanted love to win the battle. I needed love to win the battle.
“I want you here now more than ever,” I said.
With the side of her face pressed hard against my chest, she responded. “I think I need you now more than ever.”
I learned over the next few weeks that the pain from losing a child, even if they aren’t born into this world, doesn’t diminish quickly. A dull aching in my heart began with each day and didn’t end until I managed to fall asleep.
I blamed myself for the loss. Something, I was sure, was wrong with my sperm. Jess did the same, blaming herself for exercising too much and not eating enough. Together, we suffered the loss, and we suffered it through every waking hour of the day.
We spent much more time than normal on the dance floor. I stopped writing. I couldn’t assemble a simple sentence, much less a meaningful one.
I’d suffered the pain from loss on many occasions. I had never, however, felt the level of agony that was taking over my body on a day-to-day basis. Jess and I slipped into a state of depression, each blaming ourselves in silence for the miscarriage. Truth be known, it was neither of our faults, but it would take us months to come to that realization.
There was one thing that I felt might be able to dull the pain. Having the wind in my face and the open road ahead. For those that had never experienced the magic of riding, it couldn’t be understood. To me, it wasn’t a lifestyle, it was life.
A life I was no longer able to live.
While I laid in bed at night, I dreamed of riding. During those few moments before I fell asleep, I was convinced that the pain subsided. In my manufactured heaven, Jess was behind me with her arms wrapped tight around my waist. It was comforting to know that even in my dreams, we were together.
Comforting one another through the most trying of times.
Her smile in the reflection of the rearview mirror gave me comfort that she, as a result of that ride, had somehow managed to accept the loss.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
We stood in the furniture store hand in hand, staring blankly at bedroom furniture. Jess fixed her eyes on the least expensive option, a white twin bed frame that was manufactured of particle board.
“This will probably work.”
I looked at it and laughed. “It tiny, and it’s cheap.”
“Cheap is good,” she said.
“There’s a difference between cheap and inexpensive. That’s cheap.” I lifted it and dropped in onto the floor. “You can pick anything you want. Anything at all. Ta
ke your time.”
“I can’t get anything,” she said.
I’d been paid for the release of Unstoppable. We needed two beds, dressers, and a few night stands. I certainly didn’t want to squander my earnings, but the store’s most expensive items weren’t out of reach.
I gave her a look of reassurance. “You sure can.”
“That’s hard for me to comprehend,” she said. “I barely make it through each month.”
“Well, now we’ll have two incomes and one household expense. Pick out whatever you want.”
The look on her face was payment enough for the countless nights I’d worked to release books at the rate of one every six weeks. After wandering around the store for an hour, we chose two matching ornate metal bedframes and several pieces of bedroom furniture.
“This is so nice,” she said. “I’ve never bought new furniture before. Ever.”
Being able to provide for her and the children gave me a much higher degree of satisfaction than I had ever obtained from providing for myself. Excited to see the look on Landon and Lily’s faces when they realized that they would no longer be sharing a mattress on the floor, I set up the delivery of the pieces and drove home.
The next day the furniture was delivered and set up. Following the delivery, it was immediately apparent that Jess was excited about moving in.
“I don’t like the color of Teddy’s room,” she said.
“The kids room?”
“Yeah. It’s uhhm. It’s kind of brown-ish.”
I shrugged. “Have Teddy’s painter paint it.”
“The bathroom, too.”
I glanced in the bathroom. “What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s white.”
“White is good.”
“It needs to be a blue-ish gray.”
“Fine. Have him paint it, too.”
The loft was one big open space, with two large bedrooms at one end. The main body of the living area, less the bedrooms, was twenty-four hundred square feet, with no partition walls. Three concrete columns were equally spaced along the center of the space.
Each column was painted a different color. One blue, one yellow, and one red. One sixty-foot-long wall was painted purple. The others were red. Ugly brown. Navy blue. The corridor that led to the entrance was painted grass green on one side and red on the other.
She glanced around the spacious room and looked at the various colors. “I’d like to paint everything.”
I huffed out a breath. “Call Teddy. Have him send the painter over. I’ll work something out with him.”
A week later, everything was painted to Jess’ liking. The home was decorated with a woman’s touch. The tops of the cabinets that had been bare for years were now fitted with ornamental metal plates and plant life.
The walls were littered with pictures, photos, and cute little sayings. Candles and lamps – two of my pet peeves – were everywhere.
As I glanced around the home and wondered just what I’d agreed to, the door swung open and Teddy walked in.
His eyes darted around the room. “Looks good.”
“Thanks, Teddy,” Jess said.
“Looks like a whorehouse in here,” I said. “There’s fucking candles everywhere.”
“Smells good,” he said.
The only thing good that I could smell was the hint of the soup Jess was cooking in the slow cooker. I glared at him. “Go home, Teddy.”
He flopped down on the couch. “Where’s the kids?”
“Daycare.”
“Oh, crap,” Jess said. “I’ve got to go get them.”
When she returned, the five of us sat down to a meal of her family’s recipe of wild rice soup, chicken bundles, and a salad. It wasn’t Ramen noodles, but I could certainly get used to it.
Teddy plucked a crumb from his beard and poked it into his mouth. “Good grub, Jess.”
She swelled with pride. “Thanks, Teddy.”
I raised my fork. “I’ll second that. It’s delicious.”
She looked at me and smiled. “Thank you.”
I glanced at everyone as they ate their meal. Landon and Lily’s manners had improved drastically, and they were practicing them at the table. I realized as I surveyed the people who surrounded me that my family had grown.
More importantly, on that night I realized my house had become a home.
Chapter Forty
I gazed through the glass wall of windows. The area was crawling with speed walkers who were utilizing their lunch hour for exercise, joggers, and the occasional neon Spandex clad bicyclist. In the distance, the fountains in front of the theatre were spraying water high into the air.
Jess had returned to work. I was attempting to write. Neither of us had fully recovered from the loss of our child. I doubted we ever would. Masking our grief had become second nature.
We spoke to each other in passing, had no interest in sex, and spent the nights cuddling silently until we fell asleep. Something needed to change, but I had no idea how to implement it. Time, I decided, would heal our wounds.
The door swung open, and then closed. Without turning around, I lifted my chin slightly. “Morning, shithead.”
“Mornin’.”
I mentally followed the clicking of his boot heels along the concrete floor. The sound of the refrigerator door being opened and then closed was followed by the sound of the cabinet door doing the same.
“’Bout out of milk.”
“Jess is headed to the store after work.”
Teddy sat down beside me and commenced to devour his cereal.
My desk was positioned directly in front of the window. An eight-foot by three-foot slab of marble, it was more than large enough for the four barstools that were positioned in front of it.
I leaned to the side and gave Teddy a look. “Scoot over a few seats, would you?”
“Was wanting to talk to ya.”
“You don’t have to sit on me to talk to me. Scoot over.”
He spooned the Honey Crisp into his mouth and talked over the mouthful of food. “How much money you got?’
“Fuck, I don’t know. Why?”
“In case you didn’t realize it, spring has sprung. It’s time to ride, dude.”
I returned a narrow-eyed stare. “You forget about the bank picking up my shit?”
He shoveled another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. “Nope.”
“Hard to ride what one doesn’t have.”
“Remember Tater Salad?” he asked.
“That big goon that rents the house from you out west?”
“Yep.”
“I remember him, why?”
“Lost his job a while back. Ten months ago, to be exact.”
“What’s this story got to do with me?”
He lifted the bowl and took a big slurp of milk. Upon lowering it, he grinned. “Owes me ten grand. He’s got a job now, but he’ll never be able to pay me the back rent because he don’t make enough to get ahead.”
To call Teddy a pacifist was giving him tremendous credit. He had a horrific temper, but he never acted on it. He, no differently than the other men in the club, seemed to rely on me to act as their mouthpiece.
“You need help kicking him out?”
He shook his head. “I’m gonna give him an option.” He lifted the bowl to his mouth, finished the milk, and then set it aside. “You’re going to give him an option.”
“Pay or get out?”
“Nope.”
“Jesus, Teddy. What? You gonna whore his wife out?”
“He’s got a Heritage Softail. You’re going out there with me. We’re taking the bike. I’ll call it even. You give me five grand for it. I’ll call the rest a loss. I’ll never see it, anyway.”
I jumped from my stool, knocking it over in the process. “Five grand for a Heritage? Does it run?”
He nodded. “Like a scalded dog. He never rides it. Bought it new.”
“I’ll give you five for it,” I said. “Right now.”<
br />
He wiped the milk from his beard and then looked at his hand. “When you want to go out there?”
“When does he get off work?”
“Three.”
“Let’s be there when he gets home.”
He grinned. “This is gonna be fun to watch.”
“Why’s that?”
“You ain’t seen him in five years. He’s about Big O’s size. A little shorter though.”
I shrugged. “He gets between me and that Heritage, and I’ll be on him like shit on a wheel.”
That afternoon, we waited with Tater Salad’s wife in the garage while he was on his way home from work. An oversized four-wheel-drive truck pulled into the driveway and came to a stop. When the door opened, a two-hundred-and-twenty-pound man with a shaved head spilled out of the opening.
He was wearing slacks and a dress shirt, but it did little to hide the bulging biceps that were beneath the powder blue cotton fabric.
After giving me a lingering glance, he shifted his eyes to Teddy. “What’s going on, Teddy?”
“Here about that money you owe me,” Teddy said.
He gestured toward me. “What’s he here for?”
Teddy shrugged.
“I’m going to cut to the chase,” I said. “You owe my man Teddy ten grand. You don’t have it. He needs it. Under Kansas law, he could evict you. He doesn’t want to. But he needs that money to start a construction job that starts Monday. It’s Thursday. In my opinion, you have one option.”
I nodded toward the Harley that was parked beside the weight training equipment. “Go get the title to that bike, sign it on the back, and hand it to him. I’ll ride the bike out of here, and you’ll be paid in full.”
He looked me up and down. “What if I say no?”
His teenage daughter walked into the garage. “Hi dad.”
“Go back inside, Terra.”
“What’s going on?”
“Go inside. I’ll come inside here in a minute.”
Tater’s wife escorted Terra inside the house. I looked at him and raised my brows. “If you refuse, you, your wife, and that daughter of yours will be out in the street trying to decide what to do with all your belongings. A week or so later, you’ll be hit with a lawsuit. Attorney’s fees will be about a grand on top of the ten you owe Teddy, and then you’ll have to pay his attorney’s fees as well. All told, you’ll be twelve grand out of pocket and homeless.”
LOVER COME BACK_An Unbelievable But True Love Story Page 17