Western Waves

by Brittainy Cherry

  My mind was racing as I shook my head. “Will you take me somewhere?” I asked.

  We stood in the tampon aisle of the drugstore dressed to the nines in our fancy outfits, but we weren’t there to get tampons, unfortunately.

  I stared at the different pregnancy tests in front of me. A wave of sickness hit me, but I wasn’t certain if it was from being ill earlier or the idea that I might be pregnant.

  “I don’t know which one to get,” I whispered to Damian.

  “Then get them all,” he said, swiping a ton of them and tossing them into the basket he was carrying for me.

  Though I was shaken up from the idea of being pregnant, the idea of carrying Damian’s child didn’t freak me out as much as it should’ve. I should’ve been panicking more, but Damian’s calm demeanor somehow eased my soul a little. We’d been safe every time we’d slept together, but still, there was always the chance we somehow slipped up and had an accident.

  We walked up to the cashier, a young teenager. She looked at the basket of tests as she blew bubbles with her chewing gum, and she shook her head. “Congratulations,” she said, swiping the boxes. “Or my condolences if it’s negative,” she said. “Or my condolences if it’s positive, too. I don’t know. Whatever.”

  We didn’t reply to her commentary. Damian simply paid for the tests, and we went on our way. He didn’t say much on the ride home. Correction: he didn’t say anything. He simply drove, then opened the door for me when we arrived home, and he walked inside with me beside him.

  “Should I take one now?” I asked.

  “Do you want to?”

  “I don’t know. I guess. Maybe? Christ. I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

  “You’ll be fine. Take two now, and then you can take some later if you need to.” He held two of the random tests out toward me, and I took a deep breath as I grabbed them. When I turned to head to the bathroom, he placed a hand against my forearm. “Stella.”

  “Yes?”

  “Whatever happens, whatever the outcome, I’m all in.”

  I parted my lips to reply, but no words came out. Somehow, his words were more than enough to give me the courage I was searching for. I unwrapped two tests, peed on the sticks, set them against the counter, then called Damian into the bathroom.

  I set a timer. We sat on the bathroom floor with both of our legs bent up. His arm was looped with mine. For ten minutes, we sat still and didn’t speak a word. Every now and then, his hand would rub gently against my forearm, giving me bursts of comfort.

  The timer dinged. Damian looked at me.

  “Can you check? I’m too nervous,” I muttered, feeling sick to my stomach.

  He stood, looked down at the two tests, and held them up in the air. His mouth parted, and he spoke, “Baby.”

  “Baby?” I scrambled to my feet. I took the tests from his hand and felt as if my heart was seconds away from flying out of my chest. “Baby.”

  “Yes.”

  I looked at Damian, wondering what his thoughts were, wondering if he was okay, wondering if this was all right. “Happy or scared?” I softly asked.

  He placed the tests down on the counter, laced our fingers, and moved in closer. His forehead rested against mine as I closed my eyes. “Happy.” I felt tears against my cheeks, but they weren’t mine. Damian’s emotions were falling from his eyes as he held me closer. “So happy.”

  As our eyes locked, I saw a moment of fear flash before him as he brought my hand to his lips and gently kissed my palm. “Happy or scared?” he asked.

  My tears fell next. My heart was racing, but it wasn’t from fear—it was from hope. I should’ve been terrified. I should’ve been running to Grams, telling her about what happened. Crying because I was pregnant by a man who I hadn’t known a few months ago.

  None of that happened.

  I only felt, “Happy.”

  He pulled me into a hug and held me so close. I lay my head against his chest, listening to the wildness of his heartbeats. I felt it, too. I felt his happiness.

  30

  Damian

  * * *

  A baby.

  Our baby.

  Stella was pregnant. My mind was still trying its hardest to wrap itself around the concept. It should’ve terrified me, but all I could think was that my life was finally changing for the better. I was going to have the one thing I always wanted—a family. Something that was mine, something I could touch, feel, and hold on to. If it were anyone else, I would’ve retreated, but with Stella?

  She was all I ever wanted before I knew what I desired.

  I held her in my arms that night as I soothed her nerves, rubbing her lower back.

  Her big, brown eyes looked up at me, and every time they did, I fell under her spell. I didn’t believe in Maple’s tarot cards and sage shit, but I did believe that something about Stella held magic to it. Because every time I looked at her, I became hypnotized.

  “I always wanted to be a father,” I whispered as my lips set inches away from hers.

  “Yeah?” She held on to me as if she were afraid, I’d disappear if she let go.

  Not going anywhere, Stella.

  I nodded. “Yeah. Even when I was a kid. In some of the foster homes, I remembered watching how the husbands were with their own kids and how they were with me. I remember thinking, if I had the chance, I’d be better. I’d be more patient. More loving. More. It often seemed that the husbands just went along with fostering to get their wives to shut up about it. Some did it for the checks, though.”

  “Did you ever stay with a good foster father figure?”

  “Yes.” I nodded, thinking back. “His name was Peter. He and his wife, Sandy, were an older couple. I stayed with them for six months. I was around twelve years old and more jaded than any twelve-year-old should’ve been. But Peter taught me how to play basketball. He spent every night of those six months at the basketball court with me, helping me nail my dunking skills. He’d then take me out for ice cream each week and talk to me about life and stuff.”

  “What’s one of the best things he’d ever told you?”

  My brows knitted. “That I was good enough.”

  “Did you believe him then?”

  “No.”

  “Do you believe him now?”

  I smiled but didn’t reply, which seemed like a good enough response for her.

  Stella’s hands landed against my face, and she pulled me closer to her, laying her lips against mine. Her forehead rested against mine. “More than enough, Damian.”

  I sighed softly, feeling a wave of emotion push through my system. “More than enough?”

  “More than,” she repeated.

  My eyes closed as I held her close. “I’m scared I’ll mess him or her up. I’m scared that I won’t be good enough for them, for you. I’m scared that my past will mess this up for us.”

  “I don’t think that’s just you. I’m terrified, too. I think all parents are scared at first.”

  “You’re going to be the best mom ever.”

  She smiled. “I hope so. I came from the best one ever.”

  Stella didn’t speak much about her own mother, but I wanted to know more. I wanted to know all I could about everything that made Stella into the woman she was.

  “Tell me more about her?” I asked.

  And she did.

  Her name was Sophie, and she died in a car crash. She’d raised Stella on her own with the help of her best friend—Kevin. They’d known each other since elementary school. Maple worked for Kevin’s family, and Stella and her mother grew up on the property where we live now. Stella was a home birth, and Kevin cut the cord for his best friend. They were always a platonic relationship, but Stella was almost certain they were soul mates.

  She stopped her storytelling and looked at me. “I’m sorry. You hearing about Kevin must be hard…”

  I shrugged. “I was angry with him for a long time but realizing he didn’t know I existed makes it kind of hard to hate
him. Plus, without him, I wouldn’t have found you. So, you know…”

  She smiled, and I loved it. “He was a good man. He would’ve been honored to be your father.”

  “Do you think he would’ve loved me?”

  Her hand landed against my cheek. “How could he not?”

  “Can you tell me more about him, too?”

  “What would you like to know?”

  I swallowed hard, feeling my heartbeats pick up in speed. “Everything.”

  He liked hiking and hated raspberries. He drank whiskey in his coffee in the morning and a shot of espresso in his whiskey at night. He smoked cigars up until he grew ill, then he’d chew on the end of them just out of habit without lighting them. He loved Stella—she didn’t tell me that, but I could tell. She talked about him with stars in her eyes, and a part of me ached, knowing I’d never have the opportunity to meet him. I listened to every story Stella shared with me, and we flipped through the book of photographs that Maple brought me when we first moved in together. I couldn’t bring myself to do it before, but having her beside me made it easier.

  “You were an adorable kid,” I told Stella, staring at old photographs of her. “And you were your mother’s twin.” Her mother had that same vibrant smile that Stella held. You could see the light of her soul through the photographs.

  “Oh, let me show you the collection Kevin did of my mom and me,” she said, standing. She hurried off into her room on her tiptoes—because Stella was a woman who moved on her tiptoes like a fairy. When she came back, she had an extra-large photo album. The front of the book read, UB

  “Universal blessings,” I said, remembering Stella mentioning that before.

  “Yeah. He always swore Mama and I were his biggest blessings.”

  “Do you think he was in love with her? Maybe that’s why the ex-wives were so harsh toward you—because they knew?”

  “I always wondered. Maybe I reminded them too much of my mother.”

  “That makes sense.” I flipped through the book, blown away by Kevin’s photography skills. He was amazing at capturing the light in such a special way. Plus, the way Stella’s mother looked at her daughter…

  I never knew love could live forever through photographs.

  “I wish I had this,” I confessed. “Photographs of my mother. I know it’s stupid, but one of my greatest wishes was to know who she was. Now, knowing that it’s one of those three women…well…I’m not getting that happily ever after.”

  “I’m sorry, Damian. Maybe it can turn out for the better once you finally know at the end of all of this?”

  “It’s fine, really, Stella. Besides, maybe I need to get over the past to focus on our new future.”

  Sometimes one had to let go of their yesterdays in order to reach their better tomorrows.

  Stella asked me to come to the doctor’s appointment with her, so of course I attended. I wanted to be there for it all. For every in and out, for every moment of the journey.

  “Will we know if it’s a boy or a girl?” I asked her as we waited for the doctor to come in for the ultrasound.

  She laughed. “I think it’s a bit too early for that.”

  “Right, of course.” I grimaced. “Just curious.”

  “Do you want a boy or a girl?” she asked. My hand was holding hers, and I had no plans of letting go any time soon.

  “Either way, I’d be happy.”

  The doctor came in to start the ultrasound, and I couldn’t hide my nerves. My hands were sweaty, my legs shaky. As she placed a clear gel on Stella’s stomach and began moving a tool across her abdomen, I piped up. “Is that the heartbeat?” I asked.

  “No, just the machine,” the doctor explained.

  “Oh.” I frowned while Stella giggled at me.

  “But this,” she said, smiling my way, “is the heartbeat.”

  Stella began crying, covering her mouth as we stared at the screen. She looked over at me and saw the emotions I was trying not to release in front of a doctor. “That’s ours,” Stella whispered.

  I bent toward her and kissed her tears again.

  “I’m shocked at how much I can actually see,” Stella commented.

  “Well, yes, it’s amazing, isn’t it? You’ll be able to know the sex in only two or three more weeks,” the doctor said.

  I raised an eyebrow. “We can tell that so soon?”

  “Oh yes, seeing how you are already at the three-and-a-half-month mark, we could be able to, if you want to know.”

  Stella sat up straight. “I’m sorry, what?”

  The doctor paused the movement of the tool. “I’m sorry, is there an issue?”

  “Uh, yeah. You just said I’m three months pregnant.”

  “Yes. I’m sorry, I thought you knew.” The doctor looked at us both and saw panic.

  No.

  We didn’t know.

  Stella and I were not sleeping with one another three months ago.

  Stella and I were hardly even friends.

  Which meant that the child… the baby… our baby…

  Her baby…

  Wasn’t mine.

  It felt as if a semi-truck slammed against my chest and ripped away a dream I hadn’t even had time to settle into. A reality that I craved was no longer mine to hold.

  The child was Jeff’s—not mine. My already battered and bruised heart shattered into a million more pieces.

  31

  Stella

  * * *

  We drove home in silence. Both of us were uncertain what to even say to one another. I felt as if I owed Damian an apology, yet I wasn’t sure how to phrase it.

  Hey, sorry I’m an awful human and got you excited about the idea of a child after you struggled your whole life searching for a family, just to have that dream that made you so happy ripped away right in your face, ha-ha. My bad. Do you want to go get frozen yogurt?

  Yeah, no. I felt like the worst person alive.

  When we pulled up to the house, Damian climbed out of the car quickly, walked over to my side, and helped me out. Still, no words from him. I saw the sadness dripping out of his eyes, but he still pushed out a smile. I never knew smiles could mirror frowns so deeply.

  “Thank you,” I softly spoke.

  He nodded as his response, unable to find words.

  We headed inside, and he muttered something about going to get some work done. I didn’t push him because I knew his mind had to be running on speed. I spent some time in my bedroom, staring down at my cell phone, uncertain of what I should tell Jeff. I mean, I had to tell him, right? Of course.

  The thought of speaking to him was enough to make me feel nauseous.

  I couldn’t even deal with that idea without first trying to repair things with Damian.

  After a little too much swirling of my stomach, I went to the kitchen to prepare some decaf peppermint tea. When I reached the countertop, I looked out at the ocean and saw something I hadn’t seen since I moved back into my childhood house. Damian was out there, shirtless with his pants rolled up, standing in the ocean.

  His built physique was relaxed, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing out there. I set my mug down and began walking out toward the water. When I reached the waves, I called out to him.

  “Damian? Are you okay?”

  He turned to see me, and the emotions bled out from his soul. He didn’t say a word.

  I crossed my arms, feeling a bit chilled as concern hit me. “What’s wrong? It’s cold out here. What are you doing?”

  He frowned and pulled out something from his pockets. White flowers. “I was talking to the ocean. I was going to give it some offerings and ask that they keep you safe.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You speak to the ocean?”

  “Only for you.” Walking over to me, he took my hands in his and stared down at our interlocked fingers. “I know today is hard, but I wasn’t kidding when I said it before. Whatever happens, whatever the outcome, I’m all in,” he repeated, making me fall
so much more for him.

  “Even if it’s Jeff’s?” I asked with a tremble in my voice. Saying those words stung my soul.

  “Even if.”

  “Damian?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m in love with you.”

  “Do you want to know a secret?”

  “Yes.”

  His eyes softened more than I’d ever seen them do. There was a gentleness in his stare as he kissed the palm of my hand. “I think I’ve been in love with you before I even knew what love was.”

  No part of me wanted to see Jeff. When I reached out to him, he was cold toward me but agreed to allow me to stop by his new apartment. The place was in a sketchy neighborhood, and a pool of guilt settled into my stomach as I walked inside.

  “Welcome to paradise,” Jeff joked, gesturing around his studio apartment. It was a mess. There were liquor bottles and beer cans scattered across the small kitchen counter. Old pizza boxes were piled on the coffee table, and the bed was unmade. There was a stack of scratched-off lottery tickets that I was almost certain were all duds.

  “Are you okay, Jeff?” I asked. I wished I didn’t care, but I couldn’t help it. He appeared drunk, but at least he wasn’t slurring his words.

  “What do you want, Stella?” he grumbled, flopping down onto his tiny loveseat. I sat on the chair across from him, hugging my bag.

  “I, well, I have news.”

  “Out with it.”

  I took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “With me or that asshole?”

  “It’s yours.”

  “How can you be sure? You were, after all, sleeping with us both at the same time.”

  “What? No, I wasn’t.”

  “Please, Stella. I’m not an idiot.” He stood from his seat and moved to the fridge to pull out a beer. “It was clear as day that you two were screwing from the jump.”