The clients had loved her tiny house design, and she had been given the lead position on the project and looked forward to seeing her work come to fruition.
Around four that afternoon, she was exhausted and decided to head home early. Her stomach lurched again. So before she left, she had to take yet another trip to the bathroom. Like the rest of the building, the bathrooms were an unusual space with individual stalls in one room and a separate area that was more like a lounge space, complete with couches. Claire didn’t get why exactly the designers had attached a lounge to the restrooms, but people seemed to like it, and it wasn’t uncommon for employees to gather there.
When she came out of the stalls, she went to one of the freestanding sinks and washed her hands. She’d felt okay most of the day, but she was feeling ill again and so exhausted she couldn’t move. She was glad her mom was coming over. Maybe her soup would be just what she needed.
Claire wet a paper towel and wiped her face, noticing how pale she looked. When she heard the door open, she looked into the mirror as Sydney walked in.
“Hey,” she said.
Sydney didn’t say anything and instead reached her hands out to Claire. Automatically, Claire lifted her own hands and then glanced at Sydney, surprised by what she’d placed in her hands.
“What’s this?” Claire asked, looking down at the pack of saltines Sydney had placed in one of her hands and the bottle of ginger ale she’d placed in the other.
Sydney stared at her and then tsked. “I’m mad at you,” she said.
Claire glanced at Sydney again and then took a sip of the soda. It was chilly but not frigid, and delicious, and it helped settle some of the upset in her stomach. She took another sip and then opened the crackers and began nibbling on one.
“Thanks. And why are you mad at me?” she asked.
“You weren’t going to tell me!” Sydney exclaimed.
Claire looked at her, confused as she began nibbling on another cracker. “Tell you what?”
“Oh, right,” Sydney said, looking at Claire knowingly. “You were going to wait until you were further along?”
Claire looked at her friend, her hazy mind having difficulty following this conversation. “Sydney, clue me in,” she said.
Sydney dropped her hands and then looked at Claire, her head tilted. Long moments passed as Sydney looked her from head to toe and then back again. “Oh God,” she said. “You really don’t know.”
“Know what?” Claire frowned.
“Oh God! Claire, you pregnant!” Sydney said.
Claire looked at her friend, who stared at her with wide eyes, looking as if she’d solved the most puzzling equation. Claire scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I am not…”
She trailed off as her mind began racing. Claire looked in the mirror and Sydney came to stand behind her. Claire searched her face, looking for some sign of difference, but all she saw was Claire.
Apparently Sydney saw something else, for she nodded as if she was satisfied with what she saw in the mirror.
“Yep. You are. Apple cheeks, beautiful, shiny hair, diamond-bright eyes. Freakin’ adorable and the kind of luminously gorgeous pregnant woman that other pregnant women hate. But there are no two ways about it. You are one hundred percent pregnant,” Sydney said. Then she narrowed her eyes and looked at Sydney again and then nodded. “Yep, you definitely are.”
Her friend spoke with finality, but Claire barely heard her. She was too busy studying herself, looking for something.
“I…”
Claire opened and closed her mouth, not sure what to say.
Sydney patted her shoulder. “You haven’t noticed anything?” she asked.
Claire carefully considered the question, her mind whirling even faster now as she tried to examine everything at once.
“I…I’ve been under the weather. But that’s just”—Claire waved her hand dismissively—“that’s just a little bug. It’s nothing at all like being…you know. Nothing else.”
“Yeah,” Sydney said, nodding, “it’s one of the lies that no one tells you. Movies and TV and stuff show morning sickness in the morning, but it happens all the time. And it’s not like constantly throwing up, though that does happen, but it’s mostly just feeling yucky.”
“But…” Claire met Sydney’s eyes in the mirror, questioning with her expression in a way she couldn’t with words.
Her friend watched her with a patient look on her face and then patted her shoulder again. “Let me ask you this. Have you been tired recently? Wait, that’s not the right word. Have you felt like you’ve been run over by a cement truck recently?”
“I…I’ve been tired,” Claire said.
“Uh-uh. Tired doesn’t cut it. Have you been flattened, beaten down? You know it if you’ve felt it,” Sydney said.
A shiver raced through Claire. “I’ve been working so hard. I just thought I was getting a little burned out with everything…”
Claire crumpled, and Sydney looked at her with a look of sympathetic understanding.
“I could tell. And you were looking a little green around the gills, so I brought the crackers and soda. I just figured you’d left you’re stuff at home,” she said.
Claire turned and then took another sip of the soda. Her stomach was rolling now, her heart pounding. “So how long have you noticed this?” she asked Sydney.
Her friend shrugged. “I didn’t finally put the pieces together until a few minutes ago. I assumed it had something to do with your leave of absence,” Sydney said.
Her friend was shooting in the dark, but had gotten far closer to the truth than Claire could ever admit. She slumped against the sink.
“Come on. Let’s sit,” Sydney said.
She led Claire to the couches and then sat beside her. Claire looked over, smiling.
“You swore you’d never sit on these,” she said, a tremulous smile of her face.
Sydney cringed and then cracked a smile. “I made an exception,” she said.
Claire started to chuckle, but the sound froze in her throat as the realization hit her.
“Oh God, Sydney. I’m pregnant,” Claire whispered.
Sydney hugged her and then looked at her again, sympathy still etched on her features. “So this is a surprise and not an entirely welcome one, I take it,” Sydney said.
It was a surprise, one that she wasn’t sure she had accepted quite yet. But she couldn’t think of anything she had ever welcomed more.
“It’s welcome,” she said firmly. “If nothing else, this baby is that,” Claire said.
As she spoke her hand drifted to her stomach, and she imagined a baby growing there. Her baby.
Simeon’s baby.
Their baby.
“Then that’s all that matters. Everything else will take care of itself,” Sydney said.
Claire looked at her friend, a feeling of elation rising in her chest. “It is all that matters,” she said.
Sydney nodded. “You’re going to do great,” she said.
Claire wasn’t so sure about that, but if love counted for anything, she was off to a good start. Because five minutes ago, she hadn’t even considered a baby, but now that she knew about it, she loved it with all her heart. That would see her through.
“I think I’m gonna go head home,” Claire said.
“Good plan. But stop at the store and get more ginger ale and crackers. They are going to be lifesavers,” Sydney said.
Claire floated out of the building, distracted and not entirely sure how to process all that had happened in those short minutes.
A baby.
She was carrying a baby, one that she loved with all her heart, one that she’d been too afraid to even dream of.
Now she had to figure out how to tell the father.
28
Claire wasn’t quite sure how she made it home, but she did.
All she wanted to do was throw herself into bed, but she knew her mother was on her way, and there was a very important conver
sation they needed to have. She stopped at the drugstore on her way home to grab extra soda and crackers and purchased the test that confirmed what she already knew to be certain.
She waited for emotion to overwhelm her, but the thing that played most prominently in her mind was the fact that she would finally fulfill a dream and become a mother. A mother to Simeon’s child.
There were complications, big ones, and they worried her, but more than anything she was happy. She hoped that feeling would be maintained after she spoke to her mother, and then to Simeon.
In fact, she should probably tell Simeon first, but she knew the minute her mother walked through the front door, Claire wouldn’t be able to keep the news inside. A few minutes after Claire got home, her doorbell rang, and Claire moved over to open the door.
“How are you? You look tired, honey,” her mother said as she rushed in.
“Hi, Mom,” Claire said, laughing as her mother moved toward the kitchen. Hannah was always energetic, and tonight was no different. Claire watched as her mother swept into the kitchen and began unpacking the shopping bag she carried, wishing she had at least a tenth of the energy her mother was showing.
“After you have some of this soup, you need to go directly to bed,” her mom said.
“You didn’t bring Dad?” Claire asked.
“It’s his card night, and he was going to cancel, but I insisted he go,” Hannah said.
Claire nodded. And waited as her mother looked at her quizzically. “What is it?”
“Why?” Claire asked, knowing that although her father always went to the weekly card game, he was always looking for any reason to skip it. Claire still didn’t understand why he went, but she was too tired to think of it now.
“I thought we needed some girl time,” Hannah said. Then she set a bowl on the table and gestured for Claire to sit.
When Claire sat and began to eat, her mother stared at her silently. There was no chatter, no humming, nothing. Her mother was stone quiet, so Claire knew something was wrong. She dropped her spoon and stared at her mother, dread filling her. Had Simeon done something to them? Was one of them sick? Her heart began to pound.
“Mom, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice shaky.
Hannah’s expression softened and she reached for Claire’s hand. “When were you going to tell us, honey?” her mom said.
Claire stared at her mother for a moment and then laid her head to the table. She couldn’t believe this. Her mother stayed silent and after a few long moments, Claire looked up and stared at her mother.
“Not you too?” Claire said.
“Someone else has discussed this with you, I take it,” her mother said.
Claire nodded. “Sydney from work did. Today, in fact,” she said.
“Well, it is rather obvious, at least to those of us who know you. But I’ve been waiting for weeks. I figured you’d tell me in your own time, but I guess not,” her mother said, looking slightly disappointed.
“Would you believe me if I told you I just found out today?”
Her mother nodded. “Sometimes it’s hard to see something when you’re too close to it. What happened?” she asked.
Claire sighed and then stood and began tidying the dinner dishes. “It’s complicated, Mom,” Claire said.
“It usually is, dear. Now tell me about it,” her mother said.
“There’s not much to tell. I’m pregnant, and I’m going to be raising the baby alone,” Claire said. Simeon would be there in some capacity Claire knew, but she was approaching the baby’s impending arrival as if she would be alone.
“You won’t be alone, dear. Your father and I will be there with you every step of the way.”
Claire finished the dishes and then went back to the table and sat.
“Thanks, Mom, but I don’t want to be a burden. And I can take care of myself. And the baby,” Claire added.
She sounded certain, confident, but the truth was she didn’t know anything about babies except she had always wanted one.
“That’s my girl. Always so headstrong,” her mother said. Then she grabbed Claire’s hand. “I’ve always admired that about you. Even when you were little you insisted on doing everything yourself. And I’m surprised that this is any different, but you don’t have to take on the world by yourself, Claire. You have a family who loves you and one who’s going to be there for you, so let us,” her mother said.
“Thanks,” Claire said, feeling somewhat shamed because she hadn’t considered how her stubbornness would affect her family.
“That’s it?” Claire said a moment later.
“What do you mean?” Hannah said.
“You haven’t asked about the father,” Claire said.
“I figured that’s something you would tell us about when and if you’re ready.”
Claire reached over and hugged her mother. “Thank you.” Then Claire blushed. “Are you going to tell Dad for me?”
Hannah laughed. “He knows. He’s the one who told me.”
“Oh God! Did everyone but me know?” Claire asked on a groan.
“Looks that way, dear,” her mother said.
Claire laughed along with her mother, and some of her worry went away. Things might not be perfect but she wasn’t alone.
29
“So you and your little distraction are really done for good, huh?” Nathaniel said.
“What the fuck are you talking about, Nate?” Simeon looked up at Nathaniel, glaring, and his friend nodded.
“I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, but I have seen it. Simeon Hayes fell in love, and from the looks of it things haven’t turned out so well,” Nathaniel said.
Simeon had never been more impressed with Nate’s gift for understatement than he was now. “Haven’t turned out well” didn’t tell the half of it. Simeon had been hollowed out completely, broken with the longing for Claire.
And worst of all, there was nothing he could do about it.
That last night at her apartment, as he’d held her, he’d made a decision.
He had thought he wanted her to suffer, but when he’d seen her pain in action, he realized he didn’t. All he wanted was for Claire to be happy, to live the life she had dreamed of with a man good enough to give it to her. And so he left, and forced himself to never look back.
“Chin up,” his friend said.
“Forget it, Nate,” he said.
A few hours later, Simeon found himself headed to the penthouse. He spent most nights there, now, and though it was a poor substitute for having Claire—no substitute at all, really—he still craved it.
Very little about the place had changed since she had been there, and Simeon planned to keep it that way.
As he rode the elevator up to it, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about the past, the time with her, and wondering what she was doing. But he wouldn’t allow himself to find out.
He’d kept ownership of the architectural firm, just in case he needed to somehow protect her, but otherwise he had managed to avoid all information about her.
Though he still craved it.
He wanted to know everything there was to know about her, but he couldn’t, wouldn’t, risk breaking down the wall he had structured.
And so he moved through his days, every day more a ghost in his own life, thankful for the time he had had with her but wondering how he’d manage to survive without her.
A question with no answer, so instead of trying to puzzle one out yet again, he went to the balcony, which was just as she had left it. He made his way toward it, but something caught his attention and he stopped quickly and then turned to look at the door as it opened.
Claire entered, almost as if she had walked in from his dreams, and he stared at her, mouth agape.
“Claire?” he asked, not able to keep the surprise out of his voice. The awe and relief either.
“Simeon. How are you?” she asked, watching him through hooded, wary eyes
.
As she looked at him, Simeon noticed the little embers of worry in her eyes. He could understand her shock at seeing him. He hadn’t cut his hair as often, shaved as often since he’d seen her last, and he probably looked much like the unkempt street rat he had been before.
“I’ll survive,” he said.
“There’s more to life than survival, Simeon,” she said quietly.
“Yeah. You like to say that. How did you know I was here?” he asked.
Claire looked at him and said, “Don’t be mad, but I asked Alan.”
“I should fire him for that, but I won’t,” he said.
“Thank you.”
“So why are you here?” he asked.
His voice sounded edgy, but he tried to keep any hint of what he was really thinking out. He wanted her to say she was here for him, but as he watched her expression, he knew that wasn’t the reason. He watched her, saw the heaviness in her expression, and he stepped closer to her, concern filling him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She exhaled, then met his eyes again. “I don’t know how to say this Simeon, but I’m pregnant,” she said.
He felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. He’d known this was going to happen, but not so soon. And there was the question of why she was telling him. Maybe this was her payback for what he’d done to her, her chance to return his cruelty.
He breathed out and then finally found a way to speak. “The father. He doesn’t want anything to do with the baby?”
Simeon was torn between disgust and hope. Only a fool would send Claire away, something he himself was guilty of, but Claire and a baby? There was no fucking way he’d be so stupid.
“No. I don’t think he does,” she finally said.
Simeon watched her, realization clearing the fog in his brain.
“Wait. Me? I’m the father?” he said.
She lifted her lips in a humorless smile.
“You always think so highly of me, Simeon.”
“Am I the father?” he asked, his voice stern.
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