“But I’ve been paying her rent!” I shout. “That’s half the reason I went up on that goddamn stage!” I’m pacing back and forth across the living room and he has to step in front of me to stop me.
“Whatever you’ve been giving her hasn’t been going towards rent, babe. I think that’s what this thing with Matt was about.”
“Shane,” I say, my patience having run out. “Where is my mother?”
“New Oaks Rehabilitation Center just outside of Seguin,” he states calmly.
“You sent my mother to rehab without my permission!” I scream.
“I had her permission so I didn’t need yours,” he shrugs. “Besides, it’s not like she had a lot of other viable options.”
“And you don’t think that’s kind of high-handed?” I argue but the look on his face tells me he doesn’t. “I can’t afford even the cheapest rehab program,” I say, rubbing my forehead in frustration.
“I can,” he responds and I lose it.
“It’s not your problem to pay for!”
“If it concerns you then it is my problem. I also managed to get the names of the men she owes money to and I’ve put a friend from the police force on it so you and Matt will both be safe.”
“And you didn’t think it was important to consult me on any of this?” I shake my head in disbelief.
“You’ve had a lot on your plate the past few weeks. I’m only trying to ease the burden,” he explains. “And this way it will be easier to keep track of your mom when we are on the road,” he says, clearing his throat.
“When we are on the road?” I repeat his words, thoroughly confused.
“I have a lot of away games coming up and the team is in for cup finals. I want you with me.”
“I can’t go on the road with you - I have a job, remember?” I say, exasperated.
“You’re a writer. Can’t you do that anywhere?” he argues.
“No, I work at a paper, in a regular building with regular hours sitting at a regular crappy old desk,” I speak slowly, enunciating every word so he won’t miss my meaning.
“Wow…really sounds like you love it,” he responds sarcastically.
“I’m working my way up!” I shout. “In fact, the paper is going to let me do my story after all,” I answer and his face softens.
“That’s great, babe.”
“It actually is great. They are sending me to Venezuela in a week to track down a lead.”
“No,” he says and his voice is so resolute that I have to take a step back.
“No?”
“No. You are not traveling alone to a dangerous country to follow some lead. You are coming with me on the road,” he says as he takes a big step in my direction and grabs my hand.
“I won’t be alone. Donovan is also going.”
“Then fuck no. Let someone else go.”
“But it’s my story!” I yell.
“And it still would be.”
“I tracked down the source in Venezuela and he said that he would only talk to me,” I hedge.
“I’m sure this source can be otherwise persuaded. Someone can bring along a suitcase full of cash and I’ll bet that he’ll sing to whoever is around,” he snaps, letting go of my hand and storming over to the kitchen.
“This is getting to be a little too much Shane. I think we need to talk about it,” I follow him to the kitchen while speaking to his back. “Me moving in, my mother in rehab, you thinking that you can control every aspect of my life.”
“I’m sorry if I don’t think that you going to a third-world country with your sleazy boss that wants to fuck you is a good idea!” he roars, whirling around to face me.
“What does Donovan have to do with this?” I scream back and he laughs harshly.
“Why don’t you tell me? Maybe you want to fuck him!”
“You are an asshole, Shane Mitchell!” I scream, picking up an empty glass from the counter and throwing it at his head. He ducks just in time and it hits the stainless steel refrigerator before shattering over the floor.
“You’re throwing things now? Is that some kind of Latin thing?” he snorts, bending down to pick up the fragments of glass.
“Maybe it is,” I shout back. “But I guess a rich, stuck-up, spoon-fed, white-boy like you wouldn’t know anything about it!”
“I guess not,” he mutters, pulling out the under-sink garbage to dump the broken pieces in.
“I knew this would happen,” I mutter to myself. “I can’t believe that I ever thought this could work. We are obviously from two very different worlds,” I say, letting my shoulders slump forward. “And the last thing I want to do is to get in the way of your dreams so please don’t try to stand in the way of mine,” I whisper in a tired sounding voice.
When he doesn’t answer right away I lean forward to see what he is doing. He is squatting down and staring intently into the garbage can. He reaches in and fishes something out. I gasp out loud when he holds up one of the pregnancy tests from this morning and I realize that Matty must have missed it when he cleaned up. I watch as Shane’s brows fold in and his face turns from pale white to purple.
“Is this what I think it is?” he stands up and holds it out for me to see.
“I didn’t know,” I stutter. “I mean, I only found out this morning.”
He launches the test across the room and I hear the click of plastic as it bounces across the floor. “What the fuck, Carmelina!” his voice thunders off the walls and I start to shrink into myself. “You’re fucking pregnant?” He fists his hands into his hair as he paces length of the kitchen.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper and he stops pacing.
“How?”
“Do you want me to draw you a diagram?” I answer in a shaky voice.
“I thought you were on the pill.”
“I am but nothing is one hundred percent,” I falter.
He starts pacing again and he’s mumbling incoherently to himself. I don’t know what reaction I expected but it definitely wasn’t this. But then again this isn’t exactly how I planned on telling him. I approach him cautiously and grab a hold of one of his biceps so that he will look at me.
“This isn’t something I planned for either,” I say gently and his head whips up.
“Isn’t it?” he smirks at me and the accusation cuts straight to the core.
“Screw you, Shane.”
That he would even suggest that I could do something like that makes me think that we don’t have the kind of love I thought we did. In fact, I’m not even sure if what we have is love at all.
“Carmelina…” he starts to speak but I silence him when I crack my palm across his cheek. His hand comes up to touch his face where I’ve struck him and his jaw clenches.
“I can’t deal with this right now. I’m out of here!” he shouts as he steps around me. I don’t turn around to see him leave but I listen for the jangle of his keys and his heavy boots as he stomps across the floor and slams the door.
Chapter 25
I’m left standing in his living room all alone and when I walk over to the sofa and sit down I find that I’m shaking like a leaf. I wait for a few minutes to see if he’ll come back but the condo is as quiet as a crypt so eventually I get up and head to the bedroom to pack my things.
I pull out my phone to call Leigh who I catch as she’s heading for lunch. I ask her to come and help me and she quickly agrees and doesn’t ask questions so I figure my voice must sound awful. After that I dial Matty and he answers on the first ring.
“I’ve been waiting all morning to hear from you!” he shouts into the phone, adding, “I thought it was best to get my ass out of there so you and jockstrap could have some privacy. How did it go?”
“Well…he knows,” I say and my voice wavers.
“And?”
“And I’m here and he’s not,” I shrug pathetically even though I know he can’t see me.
“Oh, honey.”
“It’s for the best. I’m just pack
ing up now so I can head home.”
“Wait for me,” he says in a hurried voice.
“No, you rest. Leigh’s coming to help.”
“Then come straight to my place and bring your stuff.”
“Don’t you think we’ve had enough of each other the last two weeks?” I say through the tears that have started to fall.
“We could never get enough of each other, Carm. I want you here,” he answers.
“Thank you, Matty.”
“Don’t thank me. I promise you that I’m going to kill him when I find him,” he says venomously.
“No, you’re not. You’re going to hold back my hair while I puke, you’re going to help me tie my shoes when I’m too big to see my feet and you’re going to be the best uncle that this baby has ever seen, but promise me you’ll stay out of it where Shane is concerned,” I sob into the phone and he shushes me.
“Okay, Carm, I promise. Whatever you need. Now hurry up and get your butt over here so I can feed you ice cream.”
“Cherry Garcia?” I sniff.
“And Cheesecake Brownie. On a day like today you’ve earned it, honey.”
I end the call and pick up my purse from the bed to drop my phone in. I pack my gym bag and my suitcase and stuff the toiletries and dirty laundry into a garbage bag before dragging it all to the front door. Half an hour later the doorbell rings and I find Leigh waiting on the other side. I take one more look around the place that’s been my home for the last few weeks and suck in a huge breath as it hits me that it’s probably the last time I’ll ever see it. It’s my own fault really - I should’ve been more careful with my heart. There’s a reason that I don’t let people in. And right now the one person I thought I could open up to wants to be as far away from me as he can possibly be.
***
My feet are draped across Matty’s lap as I stare down at the half-empty carton of Ben & Jerry’s.
“Think about it, Carm. I’m not defending the guy or anything but it’s a pretty huge bomb you dropped,” he says. I clear my throat as I try to process exactly what he’s saying.
“And it’s not like you calmly sat him down and told him,” Leigh adds. “One of your piss sticks literally fell out of the garbage into his lap.” Once she dropped me off at Matty’s she refused to leave and now I feel like I’m in the middle of an intervention. Both of them are sitting there staring at me like I’m about to shatter into pieces so I dig in my spoon in and scrape around the sides of the container before responding.
“But to just run out like that? I never imagined he was that kind of guy,” I scoff before sliding another spoonful of cold sweetness into my mouth.
“I get that it probably hits a bit too close to home with your dad and everything,” Matty acknowledges, “but you two should at least try to figure this out.”
“We’ve been together like two months and we never even put a name to what this is so I don’t owe him anything,” I snap back.
“Yeah?” Leigh challenges, raising an eyebrow at me. “The fetus in your stomach says otherwise.”
“Since when did you get all responsible?” I glare at her and she sighs.
“Since I saw the two of you together. Face it, Caramel, you two are perfect for each other but you’re both too stubborn to admit it.”
“I am not stubborn,” I grumble and Matty starts howling. I drop the spoon and scowl at him until he’s done.
“You honey are the definition of stubborn,” he says, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes. “You can stay here as long as you like, Carm, you know that. And whatever happens you have me and you have Leigh and the three of us together will do a kick ass job of raising this baby. But I think you owe it to yourself and to Shane to tell him how you really feel.”
“Tell him what exactly?” I say, feeling defeated. “That I love him so much that it hurts and I don’t want to spend a second of my life without him, and oh by the way this pregnancy really was an accident and not me trying to trap you by becoming your baby-mama?” I sigh. “Sounds like a believable story to me.”
“God, are you always so self-deprecating?” Leigh asks, rolling her eyes. “You are a beautiful, talented, independent female who snagged the ultimate playboy without even trying to. Just own it already.”
“I wasn’t trying to snag anyone,” I frown and Matty chuckles, swinging my legs off of his lap. “I think that’s the point, honey.”
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore!” I shout as a few more traitorous tears sneak down my nose. “You are my friends - you’re supposed to be on my side!”
At my outburst Matty leans over to plant a kiss on my cheek. “We are on your side but we also know what’s best for you even if you don’t. Just promise me that you’ll try to talk to him. And if you do and he runs out on your again then I will literally hunt him down and kill him.”
“Me too,” Leigh chimes in. “I’ll kick him in the balls wearing a pair of his cleats and see how he likes that.”
“Oh God,” I say, laughing through the tears. “The two of you are a dangerous combination. Alright, I’ll talk to him but not now. I can’t face him right now,” I say, sucking in a breath. “Give me a day or two and I’ll go and see him. Okay?”
As if on cue my phone vibrates across the coffee table with a text message and without even reading it I know it has to be him. I ignore it and seconds later Matty’s cell starts ringing. He turns it towards me and I see Shane’s number lighting up the screen.
“What do you want me to do?” Matty asks, his finger hovering over the lock button.
“Like I said I can’t do it right now. Leave it,” I beg and he looks me over once before nodding reluctantly.
“You can’t ignore him forever,” he says chidingly as he lets the phone go to voice mail. I get to my feet and place the ice cream container on the coffee table. I suddenly feel like I’m going to throw up and I’m not sure if it’s from the pregnancy nausea or the ball of sadness that feels like a weight in my stomach but I know that I can’t talk about this anymore. There are too many thoughts swirling around in my head to process and I need sleep.
“I’m going to crash in your bed,” I tell Matty. “I’m exhausted.”
“Get some rest then, honey, and you can look at all of this tomorrow with a fresh set of eyes,” he says.
I take a deep breath and give him a shaky smile. I know that Matty and Leigh are trying their best to fix the situation but the truth is that I’m pretty sure it’s beyond fixable and that no amount of rest or ‘fresh eyes’ will help. But they do have a point - it’s not just about me anymore and even if there’s no future for us he can have a future with this baby if he wants one.
***
Two days later I’m on my way to track down Shane at his place. I didn’t call first because the phone seemed a poor medium for what I have to say and his texts and voice messages stopped as abruptly as they started.
In between binging on ice cream and violent fits of crying I’ve had some time to think and what I’ve realized is that as much as I want to chase this story to Venezuela I want Shane and this baby even more. I love Shane more intensely than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in my life and I need to tell him that before he writes us off completely. Having some time to think about it I’ve also been able to consider things from his perspective; learning that your girlfriend is pregnant and leaving for a third world country in the space of mere minutes has to be a lot to digest. Yes, I am the one who tracked down the source and who should be in the throes of the investigation but I also want Shane to know that he is a priority right up there with my ambitions. I called Donovan this morning to let him know that I wouldn’t be joining him. He was disappointed and asked a lot of questions which I had to skillfully deflect but he did eventually agree to try to make it work another way.
It is early evening and the street in front of his condo is bustling with activity. The part of town Shane lives in has gone through a major gentrification recently so there’s
no shortage of eateries, bars and live music venues all of which are hopping tonight. I park a few blocks down and half way to his building it starts raining hard which is unusual for this time of year. I get caught right in the downpour so my hair is soaking wet by the time I make it to the front doors.
I practice my speech in the elevator and I have it almost perfect in my head by the time I reach his apartment. I press the buzzer and when the door opens my jaw hits the floor when I see who is standing on the other side of it.
“Carmen,” Allison purrs my name, wearing a smug smile on her lips. I know that she damn well knows my proper name but I don’t bother wasting time to correct her.
“Is Shane here?” I say, swallowing hard as I try to remember Matty’s advice about trusting Shane before trusting someone I barely know, even if that means looking past her short pink silk robe.
“Sorry, he stepped out for a few minutes to get us some dinner. God knows we worked up quite an appetite,” she grins conspiratorially and a pained noise escapes my lips.
“You’re here with him?” I say, my voice leaving little room for interpretation.
“I’m here with him,” she nods as if it should be obvious. “After Marco told me about your little ‘side job’ I came to see Shane to tell him just how sorry I was. It’s just like I warned him all along - you are a liar and it took him finding out about your skanky past and this alleged pregnancy for him to finally realize the truth.”
“Which is?” I ask in a voice that is barely above a whisper.
“That you were never going to be good enough for him and that it will take a lot more than some poor-as-a-church-mouse knocked up little Latina to keep him happy.”
I rear back like she’s slapped me. “What?”
“The baby is probably not even his - if there is a baby,” she says cruelly. “Go home, Carmelina. Shane is done with ‘slumming’ it. It’s over.”
Before she can even close the door I’m running back to the elevator as fast as I can. My hands shake as I pull my cell phone from my pocket. I find the contact I’m looking for and press connect and after a few rings his voicemail comes through the line.
On His Turf Page 22