Waiting for Tuesday: Suspicious Hearts Book Two

by Taylor Sullivan

  His brows creased, and I wasn’t sure if it was from anger or confusion. He looked down at the table as if calculating the weeks. Then his eyes shifted even lower, to where my belly still masked the fact that cells were multiplying under my skin.

  He pushed himself to stand and threaded his hands behind his neck. “Wow.” He looked to the window, and I could see an array of emotions pass over his features in an instant. “Wow.” But he didn’t leave as I feared he would. He pulled out another seat closer to me and sat back down at the table. His eyes locked on my belly the whole time, his face intense, but nothing more.

  We were both silent a moment, and even though it was terrifying not knowing what was going on in his head, I gave him time. This was a shock to me, one I’d been crying over for the last forty-eight hours, and I knew it must be a lot for him to process as well.

  He sat forward then and looked me in the eyes. “Can I touch it?”

  Tears clogged my throat, and I let out a gasp. I hadn’t expected this reaction. The fact that he was interested sent a gush of emotion to spill from every pore of my body. He didn’t doubt that what I said was true. He knew me just as well as I knew him, and still he trusted my words without question. I almost opened my mouth to ask why, but I pushed my chair back to give him better access to my belly instead.

  He took both hands and placed them on my stomach. We were both quiet, his face intense, as if he was waiting for the baby to kick, but it was too soon for that, and I almost said so.

  “I wasn’t expecting this.” His voice was deeper, though maybe a bit gentler. “I thought you wanted to yell at me, tell me I had an STD or something.” He looked up, meeting my eyes. “I never expected this.” My heart constricted as his big blue eyes met mine. “I had cancer when I was three years old—I was told it was a real possibility I could never have kids.”

  A big fat tear ran down my cheek, and I covered my mouth. His statement shocked me, made all the blood leave my face, and sent a tingle up my spine. As though it was fate we were brought together that night. That this baby, who wasn’t planned, had forced her way into my belly. I wiped the tears away with the back of my hand, trying to pull myself together.

  He closed his eyes and kneeled in front of me. “I had leukemia,” he continued. “I always expected the worst. Grew up thinking I was sterile. To me, this baby is a gift from heaven.”

  My mouth fell open, and I took in a shuddering breath. I’d come here prepared for the worst. Prepared for denial, hatred, and blame. To be faced with a man who didn’t want to be a father. And I could have taken all of it. But the fact that this man, who barely knew me, thought our baby was a gift from heaven?

  My body began to shake with emotion. It hadn’t been my intention to get pregnant, but I had, and out of sheer luck, I did it with a man whose reaction told me he’d be there for everything. His eyes lowered to my belly again where his hand still rested.

  “Is it a boy or a girl?”

  I shook my head and pulled in another breath, trying to take in enough oxygen to keep from passing out. “We won’t know for another nine weeks, but I keep having dreams it’s a girl.”

  He nodded but didn’t move from his spot on the floor, as if he was afraid to do so or possibly too shocked. We sat like that a few moments, his hands on my belly like a scene from a movie, but unlike a movie, it wasn’t me he loved. He loved our baby—he was holding our baby, not me.

  He looked up then, his face soft but intense. “I’ll marry you.” He nodded. “My mama raised me right, and I won’t run away from my responsibilities.”

  My nose burned and I blinked back the tears that threatened to spill over. I’d almost hoped he would be a jerk, but with each passing moment, he proved more and more that he wasn’t. There was a part of me who hated him for that. For putting me in this situation. To be in a place where I’d found the love my life but couldn’t keep him. And here this other man was on his knees at my belly, telling me he’d do right by me.

  I shook my head and squeezed my eyes shut. He’d given me something I’d prayed for every day of my life, but taken something I never knew possible at the same time.

  When I opened my eyes again, his brows were knit together, and he was sitting back in his seat. “You don’t have to answer now. I just needed you to know that.”

  I nodded and placed my hands on my belly, feeling a little calmer with the distance between us.

  “I hate to do this.” He looked over his shoulder to the front door. “But I was supposed to be back on set fifteen minutes ago. Can I call you later?”

  I nodded my head and waved away his concern. “Go. I totally understand.”

  He pulled out his phone. “I guess we should exchange numbers.” He gripped the bridge of his nose and winced. “This is embarrassing, but what was your name again?”

  Our eyes locked, as if both in shock by the situation, then I buried my face in my hands as a mixture of laughter and tears bubbled from inside me.

  I looked up at him, overwhelmed with all of it. “Tuesday. Tuesday Patil.” I reached across the table to shake his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  His grin never faltered as he took my hand in his. Strong and firm. “Austin Stratton.” He pushed himself to stand and pulled me out of my seat. “Ahh hell.” He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against his chest. “We’re having a baby. The least we can do is hug.”

  I nodded, my cheek rubbing against the thin cotton of his t-shirt. “We’re having a baby.”

  I looked up again, meeting the brightest smile I’d ever seen. He looked over my head to the couple that watched us from the corner. “We’re having a baby,” he stated, then he looked around the whole cafe, to the twenty plus people who sat all around us. “We’re having a baby!” he shouted.

  His reaction caused my heart to fill up and break at the same time.

  A short time later, I wiped at my face as I ran across the lot of Parker Studios. Becky was back on set and waiting for me to fill her in on my meeting with Austin.

  I slipped through the familiar door that led me to her station, pushed past the lighting crew, PAs, and extras who lined the long hall on the west end of Parker Studios. I found Becky in the corner, her long black hair hanging loose as she touched up someone’s makeup.

  She looked up when I got closer, examined my tear-streaked face, and then tilted her head to a nearby chair. “Have a seat. I’ll be right with you.”

  It was the way we always behaved when I came to see her. That I was her next client, instead of her pregnant basket-case best friend.

  I hopped up in the chair and grabbed a magazine, but I couldn’t really look at it. All I could do was replay the meeting at the cafe over and over in my mind.

  Becky continued chatting with her client, but I could tell by her expression that she was concerned. I needed to relax, to calm my mind, but all I could do was think about Austin’s proposal. Think about John, who was the last person I needed to tell.

  These past days I tried to push it from my mind. To enjoy his love, which he gave freely and abundantly. We spent each day flirting in the shop, and each night wrapped in each other’s arms until we fell asleep. Tomorrow, we would go out on our date and I’d tell him. And I was pretty sure it would all end there.

  Becky took out a large Kabuki brush and ran it over her client’s face to set the foundation, then nodded for me to take the seat as soon as the woman left. She wrapped the silky black drape around my shoulders and turned me around to face the mirror. “So what happened?”

  My throat thickened, and I took a deep breath to push back the threatening tears. “He asked me to marry him.”

  Her eyes widened, and her mouth fell open.

  “Actually, he said ‘I’ll marry you’, which is different but means the same thing. He was nice. He said he believed the baby was a gift from heaven.” My chin began to quiver, and I pulled my glasses from my face.

  “Oh, honey.” She handed me a tissue. “What did you say?”

>   “I didn’t say anything.”

  There was a long pause before she spoke again. “Have you told John?”

  I shook my head, my lip quivering again. “Tomorrow.”

  She put down her brush then sat in the chair beside me. “Do you know what you’re going to say?”

  My shoulders rose and fell as I took a big breath. “Not in the slightest.”

  Chapter TWENTY-SEVEN

  Tuesday

  I took in John’s reflection in the bathroom mirror, his bare chest, clean wet skin after our shower, and his still sleepy eyes as we brushed our teeth. It was something we’d done at least a dozen times over the past four weeks, but an act I tried to memorize now. The way his muscles shifted with each tiny movement of the brush, the way he looked right now with his hair damp, doing the simple things I wanted to do with him for the next fifty years. But today would be the last I’d see of those things. Because today I promised myself I would tell him.

  Last night, the guys had finished all the last minute details of the shop then packed away every bit of their equipment. My shop was empty of any trace that he’d ever been there, but my heart would never be. It would be broken, shattered, but the pieces that remained would forever be filled with our days together.

  My chest grew increasingly heavy as I watched him. I knew I should tell him about the baby. Right now. To not wait until later, to not spend another second deceiving him into loving me, because he deserved so much more.

  He spit into the sink then rinsed his mouth with water before wrapping his arms around my waist. “I’m going to go back to my house to change. I’ll pick you up in an hour?”

  The toothbrush was still my mouth, which gave me an excuse not to speak. I nodded, but the pit of my stomach was turning in disgust with my cowardice.

  He smiled against my neck, kissing up to my ear and causing goose bumps to rise on every bit of my skin.

  “Wear something comfortable,” he said in my ear, his mouth lingering on the patch of skin at the edge of my jaw. I closed my eyes to feel it better, inhaling the warm minty scent of his breath. “Panties optional,” he whispered.

  I grinned in spite of my somber mood, rinsed my mouth, and wiped over my lips with a towel. “Where are we going?”

  He shook his head, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror. “It’s a surprise.”

  I swallowed, my tongue heavy with the words I needed to say, but I only nodded, allowing myself one more moment, one more goodbye, one more hello before it all ended.

  True to his word, he picked me up an hour later. We sat quietly in the cab of his truck, watching out the windshield as the city came and went. Even though I still had no clue where we were going, I didn’t ask, because where we went didn’t matter anyway—we wouldn’t make it.

  My secret rolled in my stomach, fighting a battle where I knew there could be no victory. Because part of me wanted to stuff it down and forget it even existed, and the other wanted it over with, to do it quickly so it would hurt less—but I couldn’t. He was my captive audience; there was nothing to distract him, but still, I said nothing.

  I rested my head on the window and took a breath. The weather report had predicted rain, and the dark, ominous sky off in the horizon told me it was true. But for now, the sun was still shining bright and beautiful, causing a rainbow to peek out from the clouds. A prism of colors, a promise of better days. But for me, it would always represent the day I lost the love of my life.

  John’s fingers wrapped around my hand, grabbing my attention. I looked up, meeting his soft smile.

  “You okay?”

  He looked exactly how I wanted to remember him. His face still shadowed with whiskers from the night before. Comfortable, messy… mine. Moisture filled my eyes and I nodded. “Tired.”

  His mouth lifted in a slight smile, and he turned back to the road. “Me too.”

  We pulled off the freeway and onto a two-lane highway. I sat up a little, forcing myself away from the cool window, realizing we’d gone farther than I ever intended to go. I cleared my throat, trying to dislodge the tight, constricting feeling around my vocal cords, but it wouldn’t go away. It was my subconscious telling me not to say anything, to keep this secret… just a little bit longer.

  But I couldn’t.

  I turned to face him, drawing my foot onto the seat and hugging my leg to my chest. Pastures framed both sides of the road, leaving us isolated except for the cows grazing on their lush green foliage.

  I wished I’d written a letter, so I could hand it over, and he could pull over and read it on the side of the road. But I didn't have that much foresight, and deep down I knew it should come from my lips, from my heart, and not from a perfect list of words that were rehearsed so many times they lost their meaning.

  We turned off to a little dirt road, and I could feel us approaching our destination. We had driven for over an hour now, and I was filled with regret that I let us get this far.

  I grabbed the strand of feathers in my hair and twirled them between my fingers. “John, I―” I closed my eyes, my throat full of tears as I grasped for every bit of courage I had. “I have something I need to tell you.”

  I kept my eyes shut, concentrating on the sound of gravel beneath our tires as we came to a full stop. I imagined us pulling to the side of the road, and any smile that had been there only moments ago gone from his face. I opened my eyes again and found his body turned toward me. His brows pulled together, and I knew, knew in every crevice of my heart that he already knew what I was going to say.

  “I don’t know how to say this.” I clasped my hands together and twisted my fingers. “I should have told you so long ago.”

  The soft purr of the engine stopped, a feeling that would normally go unnoticed, but I had to concentrate on something so the excruciating quiet didn’t tear me up inside.

  TAP TAP TAP.

  I jumped a foot at the sound.

  Pulling in a ragged breath, I whipped around toward the window, where a little girl stood on the other side of the closed door, watching us.

  “There you are!” Her head barely reached the edge of the window; her honey blonde hair was pulled into two high pigtails.

  I turned back to John, my chest heavy with the words I’d left unsaid. He didn’t seem fazed by the little girl standing there. His eyes narrowed, and he shook his head, telling me to continue.

  “Uncle John, you’re late!” The little girl’s small voice continued, seeping into the truck and interrupting us. She was tiny and innocent, having no clue of the tension that was building inside the cab. “Hurry up, Uncle John! I've been waiting for years!”

  John rolled down the window, and I tried to calm my breaths. “I’ll be there in a minute, Shelly. Run along now, my friend has something to say.”

  She frowned, her eyes meeting mine for a second before she turned around and skipped away toward a large redwood cabin thirty yards away. I recognized the house from the stories he told me about his childhood. And that’s when I noticed the other people sitting on the porch and leaning over the banister. They waved to us, causing nausea to roll through my entire body.

  I turned to face him, finding him stone-faced and distant. “Where are we?” I asked almost whispering. “Is that your family out there?” My chest tightened, making each breath more painful.

  He only nodded. “What did you want to tell me, Tuesday?”

  I forced my gaze up to his deep reflective eyes, knowing I couldn’t possibly tell him now. Not with his entire family only feet away to witness what my words would do to him. If there was one thing I learned about John over our time together, it was that he had a heart as big as the ocean, but he didn’t like others to see it. He deserved privacy at a time like this, to not hear this news when a whole audience of people waited for us to come inside.

  As hard as it was for me to play along, I needed to. Because this was my fault. I had spent four days taking his love, and when I said the words, I needed for him to be able to yell if he wa
nted to, to walk away and never turn back, for him to be able to cry… and I knew he wouldn’t do that here.

  I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose and stuffed down the scream that was building in my chest. “I’m allergic to bees.” My words were tight, as though my heart was trying to hold back the words. Even though it was the truth, the lie that twisted in my gut was so painful.

  His brows knit together and he shook his head slightly. “What?”

  I forced a smile and nodded over my shoulder. “I saw a hive a few miles back and realized I should tell you.” I pulled my bag from the floor and took my epi-pen from its pocket. “Just in case you need it.”

  He studied me a second, then leaned forward to grip the back of my neck. He pulled me closer, until our foreheads touched and our breath mingled. “You scared me.”

  I closed my eyes, my skin heating from the rush of adrenaline that surged through my veins. “Why?” I whispered.

  He was quiet a second before answering. “I don’t know. I saw the fear in your eyes and thought you were going to tell me something horrible.”

  I swallowed back tears, knowing his fears were true. “No. Just bees.”

  His lips hovered over mine, and his grip tightened on the back of my neck. “Bees I can handle.”

  The little girl yelled from up on the porch again. “Uncle John, are you coming?”

  He smiled against my mouth then lifted his head to look into my eyes. “Are you ready to meet my family?”

  I pulled in a deep breath, knowing this was the biggest mistake of my life.

  Never.

  “I’d love to.”

  Chapter TWENTY-EIGHT

  Tuesday

  John took me by the hand and guided me up the long walkway toward the cabin. The essence of family practically oozed from the large wooden logs that held the two-story home together. It was bigger than any cabin I’d ever been to, surrounded by a redwood porch that was filled with at least a dozen people.