I Made You My First

by Threadgoode, Ciara

  I quickly leaned back in toward him. “Why are you doing this to my family, Wyatt? Why do you want to take Jewel away from the only parents she knows?” I sat back up and kept my eyes on him.

  “I’m not,” he snapped. I stood up.

  “Well someone is, Wyatt. Someone sent legal papers to my family saying you wanted to take our daughter away from us.”

  I watched as his eyes dropped to the floor. “It wasn’t me, I swear,” he scoffed loudly.

  “Could you please tell me who so I can talk to them. I’d have to ask them why, Wyatt.”

  He looked at me now. “It’s my brother, Wayne. He hired a lawyer and drove me here. He was mad when he found out that I’d slept with Paris. They were dating until she caught him with another lady. When he read her note, he went off like a firecracker.”

  I stood up almost face to face with him and could feel myself getting angrier each second, maybe not so much at him as at the slimy situation that was clearly unfolding. “He can’t sue for parental custody, Wyatt, only you can.” I took a deep breath. “Where’s your brother now?” I asked as I took another quick look around the room. It didn’t look as if two people were staying here. Maybe I was wrong.

  “He’s at the store but he’s staying in another room two doors down. He wanted me to have my own room in case you agreed to bring Jewel here,” he admitted.

  “Okay.” Grimacing, I walked over to the window and pushed the curtain back only to see

  a blue car parked next to mine. “What kind of car does your brother drive, Wyatt?”

  “A blue Toyota,” he quickly answered.

  “Okay, you said your brother’s staying two doors down?” and he nervously nodded yes.

  “Do I look like a nice lady to you, Wyatt? I mean, do you trust me enough to help you do the right thing here?” I peeked back out the window.

  “Well yeah, I guess.” For some reason I believed him.

  “Do you trust me enough to get you out of this whole baby mess that your brother’s gotten you into?” I didn’t wait for his answer but grabbed his arm and walked him toward the front door.

  “Where’re we going?” he asked as I slowly opened the front door.

  “We’re going to clear up all the lies and let everyone live happily ever after. Sound good?” I pulled him to my car, opening the driver’s side rear door and guiding Wyatt inside. “Bend your head down, Wyatt” and I closed the door. Just as I opened my door and slid into my seat, I saw a man come out of his room and start walking to #136. I started the car and pulled out just as I saw him open Wyatt’s door. I stepped on the gas. When I was safely on the main road, I pulled the phone from my pocket and punched in Irish’s number.

  He picked up on the first ring. “Jurnee” and that was all I let him say before I interrupted him.

  “Baby, is Martha at the office now?”

  “Jurnee, what’s going on?”

  “Baby, please, is Martha there now?”

  “Yes, she’s there but she leaves in another forty-five minutes, why?”

  I cut him off again. “Okay. I’m going to the office now. I’ll call you when I get there, okay?” My heart was pumping fast.

  “Jurnee, tell me what’s going on.” he snapped sharply.

  “Irish, do you trust me?”

  “Of course I do, Jurnee.” his voice softer now.

  “Then you have to let me tell you later. I love you,” I said closing my phone. The adrenaline I felt was now bubbling over.

  When we pulled up to the construction company’s parking lot and I stopped the car, Wyatt finally sat up in the seat. I couldn’t turn around in my seat, not with my growing belly, so I just exited the car. I opened his door and he looked up at me as if I were some crazy person. I reached out for his hand and he nervously and reluctantly gave it to me. I grabbed the inside of his elbow and tucked my arm in his. We walked side by side up to the entrance.

  “Okay, Wyatt, I need you to reach down deep into your soul and do the right thing. I need you to be the man that Jewel would be proud to call her biological father. I need you to write it all down before your brother makes you ruin her life.” I kept him moving, opening the door and holding it for him to move inside. I pointed back to Irish’s office and followed him inside. When he was seated I went back out, as all employee eyes stared at me and I waved at Martha, our notary, now hanging up her phone. She quickly followed me into the office. When she was seated I grabbed a pad of paper and laid it in front of Wyatt. He just looked at me with confused eyes. I sat down and from across the desk, I looked into his eyes.

  “Wyatt, I need you to write down in your own words what I tell you to okay?” I saw Martha look at me with some concern.

  “Wyatt, I’m going to ask you if something is true and if it is, you’re going to write that down for me, okay?” I looked at Martha. Her look was still confused but now she was objecting less. Wyatt picked up the pen.

  “Okay, did you have consensual sex with Paris?” and he looked at me as I would’ve if my mother had asked me that question. I took a deep breath in and blew the hair from my face as

  I exhaled.

  “Wyatt, this is really important, so let me word it differently. Did you want to have sex with Paris?” Now he looked totally embarrassed. Oh hell, this wasn’t going very well. I looked at Martha. Finally it looked as if she had a better understanding of what was going on here. I smiled thankfully at her.

  “Wyatt did you agree to be romantic with Paris?” Martha asked. She was old enough to be this kid’s grandmother, so I cringed a little waiting to see his face after she’d asked her question.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he finally said.

  “Great, then write that down.” She gave him an approving look.

  When he was clearly finished, I asked, “Do you want custody of Jewel?” and I paused a moment.

  “Or would you rather see her stay with her mom and dad, her mom being me?”

  “With you,” he said firmly.

  “Okay, please write that down.” He did.

  “Now is your brother Wayne making you file this custody suit against your will?” and I stared right into his eyes. He looked back at me as if he wanted to say something.

  “What, Wyatt?”

  “Yes he is, but...” He looked away from me and down at the pad of paper. “But he said he’d buy me a new car with the money we got from the Thompson Construction

  Company,” Wyatt kept his eyes down.

  I flashed a look at Martha and then back to Wyatt. “So, you’re saying if I gave you a car

  You’d be satisfied and happy to see this custody nonsense end?” He quickly looked up at me.

  “Well, yeah,” and I felt myself grow warm. The word extortion had excited me a little until I had to follow it closely with bribery.

  “Okay, write down that your brother promised you a new car if you agreed to file for custody of Jewel,” and I looked at Martha. Wasn’t she sitting there wondering if I hadn’t just done the same thing his brother had by suggesting I might give him a car? I took a deep breath, wanting to get this wrapped up before I crossed any more lines.

  “Wyatt, I really need you to write down in your own words what your brother said about the whole plan. Everything he asked you to do.” He looked at me and nodded. When he began writing, I sat back and tried to figure out the way I might fix this car thing I was sure he felt I’d offered. As I looked over at Martha, I saw Irish come through the front door with Jewel in his arms.

  Whew, did he ever look furious. I slowly stood up from his chair and smiled as he approached the office. I decided then to meet him at the door before he could get to Wyatt. I stopped him with my body right outside the office door. “Hey, baby, guess what? Wyatt’s here to give us a statement, a notarized statement that his brother put him up to this whole custody suit. He wants to do the right thing,” and I stood in front of him now and tightly squeezed his arm, trying to get him to look at me rather than Wyatt. “Isn’t that great?” and my
words sounded more like an attempt at a song rather than a question.

  He was livid, I could tell by his body language and that cold look in his eyes, but he slowly began to calm down when he realized what was going on.

  “That’s great,” he said in an unconvincing tone. I left him standing in the doorway holding Jewel and hurried back to the desk to read what Wyatt had written. While I was reading, Wyatt turned and nervously looked at Irish and Jewel. It was the first time he’d seen her so his eyes were fixed on her rather than on Irish’s unpleasant face.

  “Martha, can you do your notary magic and make this all legal and court-worthy?” I asked in a stupid high-pitched voice. I wasn’t clear where those words came from but the tension in this room probably contributed to it.

  “Sure,” she said and busied herself with the stamp while I glanced up at Irish. When she finished having Wyatt sign, I took the paper from them.

  “Okay, Martha, you’ve been a real dear. I appreciate you dropping everything to come help me out here.” I smiled at her with my oh-boy frozen face and she hurried from the room. I reached for Jewel as I watched Wyatt slowly rise from his chair.

  “Baby,” I said bouncing Jewel on my hip. “Wyatt’s going to need a ride back to his hotel. His brother, the one that drove him to San Francisco, is waiting for him. I can take him...” but Irish gave me a look that had I don’t think so written all over it.

  “You take my car and I’ll drive Wyatt back to his hotel,” he said with an evil-looking grin. I took a deep breath before leaning into his body and gently reminding him of the whole parental custody court thing and he smiled back at me. It wasn’t a comforting smile. With the paper in my hand, I turned to Wyatt.

  “Thank you for stepping up and being a man, Wyatt.” I turned and focused my eyes on my husband. “Real men know when to step back from their egos and do what’s right for their families,” and I squinted my eyebrow at Irish as I headed for the car.

  When I arrived home, I changed my daughter and set her in the baby swing while I made her a bottle. I picked up the letter that Wyatt had written and held it to my chest. This was going to solve the problem. I finished heating Jewel’s bottle and settled into my chair with her safely in my arms. I heard Irish open the back door. With a quick inventory of his clothes, I was pleased not to see any blood. “You need to fax that letter to your mom,” I whispered, pointing to the counter.

  After looking at me and Jewel, he slowly moved over to the counter and briefly scanned the paper. Still looking at it, he set it back on the counter in silence. He finally walked over to my chair and slowly lifted Jewel from my arms. She was sound asleep and he disappeared into the hall lightly patting her back. Once he was gone, I pressed my body into the chair and closed my eyes. It was dark outside and my body was spent; the stress of the day was catching up with me. I jumped when I felt Irish’s hand wrap around mine. I must have drifted off.

  Irish gently pulled me forward and steered me toward our bedroom. He helped me remove my clothes and guided me into bed. Once I was settled and had laid still he crawled next to me. I watched the light in the room disappear and I felt Irish’s body cuddle up to mine, molding his body around my swollen pregnant one. As I was drifting off to sleep, I felt his warm breath in my ear.

  I moved because it tickled and then heard him say, “Jurnee, if you ever pull something like you did today, if you ever put me through what you did today, I’ll never forgive you.” I waited, holding my breath trying to process his words. I felt his hand take mine and pull it to his mouth. He gently kissed it and I waited to see if he was going to continue. “I’m not going to ask you please; that isn’t even an option anymore. I’m telling you now that you cannot ever put me through the ordeal you did today. Do you understand that?” His voice was cold, hard, and carried a tone of don’t you ever forget this.

  His tone was too serious and didn’t sound like Irish. I lay still, waiting to see if there was more. Was he finished?

  I waited for him to follow his words with, I was so worried or scared, but he didn’t say that. After several minutes of silence, I rolled toward my side of the bed, gently pulling and releasing myself from his hold. I carefully navigated myself through the dark to the bathroom and closed the door behind me, turning the night light on, sitting on the toilet seat and dropping my head into my hands. Maybe it was my hormones flaming but this was the first time Irish’s words had ever frightened me. His words didn’t arise from the shock of the moment; he’d carefully thought them out, almost like the morning when I’d left the bed to shower and he was downstairs waiting on me.

  I’d totally disregarded him as just being overprotective, not controlling. His tone tonight was upsetting. I didn’t like it. Right at this moment I was tired and my body exhausted, but I was sure that my Irish, the man I had fell so madly in love with would never purposely upset me or threaten me with his words. My head still resting in my hands, I heard a light knock on the door but continued to sit quietly.

  I heard the door slowly open but I didn’t move. I felt his warm body curl over mine until he was all around me. I sat unresponsive until he finally unfolded himself from me and melted onto the floor directly in front of me. I didn’t move as his hand took mine, pulling it to his face. I finally looked up at him and saw that he’d been crying. That caught me off guard and I stared at him confused. He looked so broken sitting in front of me, all of his handsome features bruised and tattered.

  He didn’t say a word. He merely looked into my eyes. I could see the man I’d fallen in love with and not the man who’d just demanded I never disobey him.

  Without warning he stood, pulling my hand with him. “Jurnee, please come sit with me. I need to talk to you.” I followed him to the bed. He turned my naked body around and sat with me on the bed.

  Looking down at the floor he finally said, “Jurnee, I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you earlier. I was wrong.” He lifted his face and turned toward me. “When you disappeared, I didn’t know your frame of mind. I knew the way I felt, so assuming that you were also feeling that way, I became really scared. I wanted to hug and assure you that it would all be okay. Then my imagination ran rampant. When I repeatedly called you and you didn’t answer, it only got worse. I didn’t know if you were hurt or had been in an accident. I felt one hundred times worse than the time I knew you were held hostage by Jo-Lee and I couldn’t protect you. I know that you don’t think about this as I do but you’re six months pregnant carrying three tiny babies I’m anxiously waiting to meet. You and our family are everything I’ve always wanted. I can’t even put into words the agony I suffered today.” And he looked away wiping a tear that had rolled down his cheek.

  I had to look away. I was suddenly ashamed, even embarrassed about my thoughts of him trying to control me. He wasn’t controlling me and he wasn’t being overprotective. He was asking me to be thoughtful of his feelings as a person, as a husband, as a father, as someone who truly loved and cared for me. I felt like a total and complete jerk. Telling me never to put him through what I did today wasn’t something that he should have had to say. I hadn’t thought about anything except what would make things right. I’d thought I was doing what was right, but I’d forgotten we were a team. There is no “I” in team. I reached my hand for his and he smiled as he gave it to me. I knew that it was my turn to do some apologizing, maybe even some begging for forgiveness. As I opened my mouth to search for the words to begin, Irish lifted his finger to my lips.

  Looking me in the eyes, he whispered, “Jurnee, It is okay.” His eyes were soft and his expression sweet. He gently pushed me back on the bed. As he gently cupped my oversized breasts he brushed his lips across mine. Now looking into my eyes, he whispered, “Jurnee, I love you so very much.” With that said, he leaned in and our kiss turned heated from the moment our lips touched.

  I was on fire by the time our tongues finally met. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him as close to my body as my pregnant bulge would allow. Looking in
to his eyes, I whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

  In an instant his lips were back on mine. With the light from the bathroom shining softly, he made love to me, but it wasn’t like any other time before. It was as if it were the first time, only each touch we shared was like a simple word we were exchanging. I’d learned a great deal about myself today. I knew I’d be a better person, a better wife, and a better mother for it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “What’s the difference between school and life? In school, you’re taught a lesson and then given a test. In life, you’re given a test that teaches you a lesson.” I can still hear my dad’s voice as he often quoted one of his favorite radio personalities and author, Tom Bodett. Until this moment that quote was just a lot of words lacking any true significance.

  Now I actually understand them. My biggest test was just around the corner. With each week that passed, my doctor was amazed at how well my pregnancy was progressing. He said it was unlikely that a triplet pregnancy would go so smoothly and uneventfully. He set an appointment with a Perinatologist (a maternal fetal medicine specialist) in San Diego for the following week.

  Coincidentally my appointment was on the first day of April. April Fools’ Day had been my father’s favorite day of the year and mine. Christmas was good but having one day a year set aside to play tricks on friends and loved ones was awesome. Every year my dad and I planned some mischievous prank to pull on my mother. Many times my friends were also involved. Each year she acted surprised and always appeared visibly upset with dad and me, or so I thought. A couple of years before my parents passed away and after one of our best April fool’s tricks ever, I sensed mom wasn’t as naive as she’d acted. A sparkle in her eyes told me she was allowing us to take pleasure in our well planned plots. I wondered if my dad had seen it too.

  * * *

  There was a knock on the door and I heard Irish yell, “I got it” as I sat on the side of the bathtub attempting to shave my legs. I knew the person coming to visit and he’d arrived early. I was finally going to meet Irish’s favorite brother, Hayden. Great, I thought, looking at my half-shaven legs. I overheard laughter as I hiked my legs out of the tub. I gave myself a quick look in the mirror and headed to the living room. Still standing at the front door, Irish and Hayden were slapping and hugging each other, not noticing they now had an audience. Hayden was taller than Irish and his muscular physique very noticeable in his tight clothing. His brown curly hair, boyish dimples, and clean-shaven face definitely screamed handsome and would surely turn any gal’s head. After several moments they turned and their playfulness came to a halt, both staring at me.