Baby Love Me

by Rosie Praks

  Mr. Bass, hearing this, could not utter even a single word. What Clinton said was true. Senior Silverton did hold a majority of their shares in other companies, and with one single word, Clinton could destroy his life and his daughter’s.

  “But, Clinton…” Mr. Bass dropped all formality. “What are you going to explain in the press conference? The media will be everywhere. They’ll know you’re the type of man who doesn’t honor his word. You mark my word, Clinton, you’ll be the laughing stock of the business world.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to worry on my behalf, Matt.” Clinton dropped his formality too. “You just make sure you get that daughter out of my son’s way.” Then he turned to Caroline and gave out his warning. “I thought you were a good person, Caroline, but I was wrong. I would never have thought you would attempt to do something like that. Let this be the end of our relationship.”

  “Clinton, you—” Mr. Bass was about to rebuke, but Clinton didn’t let him finish as he walked out the door at that moment.

  Clinton didn’t want to think about the merger conference. Right now, he needed to get things straight, and he hoped it wasn’t too late, especially with Clarice. He knew someday Hunter’s playboy ways would affect his relationship with the woman he loved, but as the father, he didn’t know it would come this soon.

  Back at the car, Hunter was like a five-year-old boy throwing a tantrum. He slammed his fist and struggled to get out of the car to finish his task with Caroline, but Anton was holding him back.

  “Would you shut up and stop acting like an immature brat?” Anton yelled at his cousin, finally having enough of his behavior. “Do you think Clarice would be happy to see you acting like this?”

  “Anton, I’m…” Hunter went limp. His whole body zapped of energy, and he slipped back in his chair. “That’s right,” he said tiredly. “I’m immature. I’m just a stupid guy. What Clarice needs is someone mature. But I love her so much, though. I don’t know what to do anymore.” He closed his eyes, a single tear sliding down his face.

  “It’s all right, son.” Hunter heard his father say. He opened his eyes to see his father slipping into the seat beside him. He plunged into his father’s arms and cried out, “Dad.”

  “If you want to cry, just cry,” Clinton said, patting his son’s head. “I have known for some time now that Caroline was a bad choice. But I didn’t expect her to do this to you and to Clarice.”

  “I don’t know what to do anymore,” Hunter said in a hoarse voice. “I’m trying to be strong. I’m trying to hold everything together, but I’m in so much pain. I love her, Dad. I love Clarice so much. But she wouldn’t listen to me. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

  “It’s all right, son. Take it slowly. Give her some time. She’ll come round soon. I’m sure right now, she’s in pain too.”

  Chapter 17

  Cherry blossoms were blooming outside. Oh how time had flown. Why did it not wait for one? Why did it not allow one to dwell and lament over love, regret, and pain? Weren’t the branches outside her window bare just a few days ago when Hunter was here, lying beside her, cuddling her from behind? Now there were already cherry blossoms blooming? Time really moved forward at a substantial rate. And now with the blink of an eye, it was spring. It was like the saying goes: time waits for no one. She was destined to have her baby alone.

  On this chilly spring day, Clarice had her bedroom window open, after a trip from the hospital. She felt exhausted and numb. Even with the fresh spring breeze blowing into the room, she didn’t feel the cold. Inside her mind, she was preoccupied with something else. Her eyes held a faraway look, staring at the ultrasound image of her baby in her hand as if what she was seeing was her future, a future with just her child.

  “So you’re a boy,” she said finally, breaking the still silence in the room. Fresh tears slid down her cheeks, obscuring her vision. She wiped them away and whispered, “Mummy will call you Conrad, then, just what Daddy suggested. But don’t you worry that Daddy’s not here, Conrad. You’re not going to be lonely.”

  She cried softly, touching the soft edges of the picture in one hand while the other hand she used to caress her stomach, as if she were caressing her baby. With a smooth, soothing voice, she spoke again to her child.

  “Mummy planned to have you by artificial insemination, you know. But your daddy came by mistake. He thought Mummy was his mysterious goddess. And do you know whose fault it was? It was your Uncle Max’s.”

  She laughed drily as more tears slid down her cheeks.

  “Your Uncle Max wanted to help me so much that he arranged for Anton to come to me, except it didn’t work out that way. Mummy wanted Anton’s sperm, you know, not your daddy’s. Mummy didn’t even know your daddy was related to Anton. They’re cousins, you know that? Just like your Uncle Max and Mummy. But don’t you get mad at Daddy if he’s not here. He’s too young. He has his life to live. Mummy has lots of love to give, so you don’t have to worry that you won’t receive enough love. Mummy will give you lots and lots of love. Okay, Conrad?”

  Clarice continued to lie on the bed and talk to herself. Once or twice, she would rub her stomach and speak in a soothing voice.

  “Are you kicking me because you agree?” She continued, asking her baby as she felt a kick. “Mummy wants him to come back to me. It’s all Mummy’s fault. Mummy was being irrational. Why didn’t Mummy listen to your daddy first before telling him to leave?”

  She closed her eyes and let the tears flow freely, no longer wanting to pretend to be brave anymore. She poured all her love and confession to her baby, letting out the secret pain she’d been hiding since Hunter had left her.

  “Did you know Mummy loves your daddy very much? Yes, Mummy loves him very much. It’s so painful that he’s not here anymore. Mummy doesn’t know what to do anymore. It’s all Mummy’s fault. Mummy was a coward. Mummy can’t face the truth. Mummy didn’t tell your daddy she loves him. And now it’s too late. Daddy must still be mad with Mummy. He’s not coming back to Mummy anymore. Mummy feels so lonely. Mummy’s heart is in so much pain. Conrad, Mummy feels so much pain in her heart.”

  Her body trembled and shook as she cried and sobbed into the pillow. The weight from carrying her baby was causing strain on her back. She shifted her position to alleviate the heavy burden. Sleeping on her side, the strain reduced a bit. In this position, she lay facing the window where the cherry blossoms bloomed outside. From her vantage point, she could see her own driveway and the road outside. This was the window where she usually sat and watched to see if Hunter would be making his appearance. But Hunter never came. After two weeks now, he never came.

  “You’ve gotten so big these past few days,” she said mildly to her child instead, to stop herself from thinking depressing thoughts. Instead, she decided to let her child in on a secret. “Would you like to know a little secret, Conrad?” she asked. “Do you know when Mummy fell in love with Daddy? It was when Mummy first saw Daddy. It was funny, but Mummy was very annoyed when that towel was hiding his body.” She laughed drily and wiped her tears, then continued speaking. “Mummy was so weird back then. Mummy couldn’t understand this feeling. Soon, the feeling of confusion took place. Mummy didn’t know what to do. Mummy had fallen in love with Daddy.”

  Clarice started talking about her plans for the future with her baby, wiping away her tears as fresh ones brewed.

  “When you turn two, we’ll go to Cambodia with Grandma and Grandpa to visit your other heritage, okay, Conrad? Mummy is part Cambodian, you know. I’ll teach you the language too. You have lots to learn. You’ll meet other kids your age too. And we’ll go and see Angkor Watt together. We’ll walk on the rice field and feel the blades of grass on our fingers. So no crying for Daddy when you come out because I’ll welcome you with open arms all by myself. We’ll look forward to the future together, just you and me. Okay, Conrad?”

  And then she cried, droplets of tears like endless torrents of rain, crying out for her lover to come back to her,
to return to the family he once cherished. She just cried and cried, holding on to her stomach, rocking herself and rubbing her stomach until she was so exhausted she fell asleep.

  Outside, Max stood listening at the door.

  “Clarice, I’m sorry. Big bro, I’m sorry.” His voice trembled as he whispered those words. Then he stepped away from the door.

  Hunter was a human corpse, a lifeless corpse, one that was able to eat, walk, talk, and sleep—all the basic human traits that enable one to exist—but that was all he was, a lifeless human corpse whose soul had been sucked out, a soul that had once fueled a heart beating within his chest.

  Hunter’s looks betrayed nothing. His face was the same, yet there was something there that, if one did not look closely enough, one would miss it entirely. It was his eyes. The once azure eyes that before held a sharp sparkling shine now held only a dark stormy lackluster tinge. Right now, those eyes held a look of determination, yet they still lacked the shine. He clenched his jaws at that moment, his lips in a thin line as he deeply concentrated on the task at hand.

  Hunter’s hand reached out to the array of eggs sitting in a tray on the kitchen bench. He picked one up. He cracked the egg into a bowl, then added some sugar and a bit of salt. Using a fork, he mixed the batch together until it became an orange froth. Then he poured the whole batch into the oil-based frying pan.

  With lifeless eyes, he watched the egg sizzle and foam, until the orange froth turned hard, indicating it was now cooked. He lifted it over and found it was burned. Without uttering a single word, he threw the whole item into the bin, then started the whole process again. First he cracked the egg, then added the sugar, followed by a pinch of salt, repeating the whole process again and again, until he could see the egg was cooked properly. With each failure, Hunter put more energy and effort into the task than the time before.

  “Hunter, what are you doing?” Anton asked when Hunter was going on like a machine, faster and faster.

  “I’m making rice porridge,” he said automatically, his face expressionless. It was a great contrast to his heart, which was tearing apart in pain. God, he was in so much pain. It was like someone had taken a knife and stabbed his heart repeatedly.

  “And the pan?”

  “I’m frying eggs.”

  “You’re frying eggs?” Anton asked. “Are you planning on eating those? ‘Cause if you are, I could call Betty. She’s good at making omelets. You can’t cook. Just ask Betty to cook it for you.”

  “It’s not for me. It’s for Clarice.”

  “Clarice,” Anton said, knowing immediately where this was heading.

  “I’m practicing making rice porridge for her. When she’s not well, she eats this. She told me many times that Cambodians like to eat rice porridge and omelets when they’re sick. I’m making them for her, but the eggs aren’t perfect. It needs to be fried the right way. And then I’ll deliver them to her.”

  “Hunter, I think you should stop.”

  “Why?” Hunter asked, not looking at his cousin, instead keeping his eyes leveled on the edge of the bowl, then adding a pinch of salt again. “It’s too salty,” he said to himself again. “I have to do it again.”

  “Hunter! Did you hear me?” Anton shouted, but Hunter didn’t acknowledge his cousin. He went on and on until Anton pushed him against the wall and shouted at him to stop.

  Hunter fluttered his eyes open, as if seeing his cousin for the first time. Then his body crumpled to the floor and he broke down.

  “Anton, Anton,” he cried. “I… I don’t know what to do. I can’t face Clarice in this state. Why? Why can’t I go see her like I normally do? I watched her, Anton. I watched her from afar. My heart is retching in pain, but I don’t know what to do to make it stop. Her father said to give her some time. Dad also said to give her some time, but how long do I have to wait? How long? I don’t understand. I want to go see her. I want to go see her.”

  “Hunter.” Anton patted his cousin’s back to comfort him. He sat beside him with legs outstretched on the floor. At this point, he didn’t know how to make his cousin feel better. He wasn’t sure what to do in this matter. It had been two weeks already. Would that be enough time now to heal and forget about the pain? Would it be enough time now to talk in a rational manner?

  “Anton,” Hunter spoke again, “for once, I want to be you.”

  “You want to be like me?” Anton asked curiously. “Why?”

  “For once, I want to be in your place,” Hunter muttered, looking into his cousin’s eyes. “I want to be thirty-one. I want to know what you know. I want to be able to take responsibility seriously.”

  Anton laughed drily and shook his head, rubbing his cousin’s hair in a gesture of brotherly love. “Hunter, being old has nothing to do with responsibility. Even when you are this age, you can still learn how to take responsibility. Aren’t you taking responsibility now? You looked after Clarice for so many months. You stayed by her side. You fed her, bathed her, cooked food for her, put her to sleep. Is that not responsible enough?”

  “It’s not. It’s not. I feel inadequate. I feel I need to know more. Teach me more, Anton. I want to grow up and be mature.”

  “Hunter, growing up and being mature can happen at any age. The first step is to acknowledge you want to learn. You’re now going toward maturity already. Cheer up. This will pass. Believe me.”

  “I want to reach thirty faster, Anton. I don’t want to be a twenty-three-year-old guy anymore. I want to be able to look into her eyes and tell her I’ll shoulder all the responsibility for her. I want to be on par with her, not only in age, but in maturation. I don’t want to be the younger one. I want to be older. This is the proper way.”

  “Age is just a number, Hunter. Why do you care what society thinks? I’m older than Fern by nine years, yet no one says anything. You are only younger than Clarice by seven years. You don’t need to worry about it.” Anton gave his advice to his cousin. “Plus, isn’t it an advantage to be younger than your loved one?” he commented. “I worry about myself sometimes. I love Fern. But she is younger than me by nine years. I’m worried if I age and become old, who’s going to look after her? She’ll be the one to look after me. I feel it’s wrong. Isn’t it a man’s place to always look after his loved one? You, Hunter, think of your age as an advantage. When you turn fifty, Clarice will be fifty-seven. You’ll still be able to look after her and care for her. You’ll still be able to hug her and hold her and not have to worry about dying before her.”

  Anton continued to pat his cousin’s shoulder, looking at him sobbing. He felt so sad for him. But for once, he smiled. Hunter, his cousin, had grown up a lot since meeting Clarice. He’d owned up to his responsibility.

  Just then, there was a knock at the door. Anton went to the door, opening it a crack, just enough to see the maid standing at the door.

  “Master Anton, there’s a young boy here to see Master Hunter,” she informed him.

  Anton diverted his gaze back to his cousin, who was still crouched on the floor, his eyes devoid of life. Anton went out into the hallway and closed the door behind him, not wanting anyone, including the maids, to see Hunter in his depressed state. Anton took a deep breath and said to the maid, “Send the guest away. I don’t think it’s best that Hunter receives guests right now.”

  “But the young boy said it’s very important. He must see Master Hunter.”

  “Hunter isn’t in a state to see guests right now,” Anton reiterated. “Tell this guest to go for now. He can visit again later when Hunter is feeling—”

  “But I have to see him. It concerns the matter between him and Clarice.”

  Anton looked speechlessly at the teenage boy with mousy brown hair who’d appeared out of nowhere and interrupted his speech. “Who are you?” he asked.

  “I’m the one who caused this whole problem. And now I’m here to fix it. Please, let me see big bro.”

  Chapter 18

  Rough, worn hands caressed her cheeks and par
ted her hair. Soft whispers of love and apologies were spoken with so much sincerity. Then lips were pressed against her temple, running along her cheeks until they reached her lips. A slow kiss burned her, leading into a fire, igniting with full flames. Her body was hot, her heart pumping, and her eyes shedding tears. The pad of a thumb rubbed away the tears as those lips were sealed with her own and that tongue penetrated the core of her mouth. Her body trembled and her head rocked from side to side. Hands cradled her head to support it from behind. It was hot, a burning fever of desire, a sudden infection of lust. Her hands came to embrace the man on top of her. Her hands ran through his hair. It was long. She felt rough stubble along his jawline.

  “Hunter.” Her lips parted to speak that word. It must be Hunter.

  Clarice wanted to open her eyes to confirm her suspicion, but they wouldn’t open. Knowing and feeling this was Hunter, she clung to him, gripping him, hugging him closer to her body, missing his warmth and protection, and most of all… his love. Her lips parted a bit more, giving him more access, allowing him to give her his love through his mouth.

  “Hunter,” she said again. “I want to see you. I want to see you.”

  Knock! Knock!

  “Hunter!” Her eyes flew open and she woke up.

  Knock! Knock!

  Someone was at the door, but it didn’t register in her mind. Hunter was here. She knew he was here. Her eyes searched the room, but he was nowhere to be found. All too soon, she resigned to the conclusion that it was only her dream. But it was such a vivid dream.

  There were a few more knocks at the door. She must attend to it. Getting up from her afternoon nap, she gingerly got out of bed when a pair of slippers caught her attention. The knocking came again, but all her eyes could see were the slippers. Slowly, an idea formulated inside her head. Could it be… that… Hunter… had… come here and given me the slippers… and now he’s at the door? The more she thought about this, the more it seemed to be true.