by Maria Carter
"I do."
"I like you here."
"I know. But I told you all along I'd be leaving."
"I thought you'd change your mind."
The girl's blue eyes, so much like her father's, welled. It was exactly what Vanessa had feared. She glanced at Eric. He hadn't moved. He was leaving her to handle the wreckage, to face the consequences of her decision. Vanessa moved to his chair, next to Julia.
"I'm really sorry, Julia. I'll miss you. And your dad. But all my friends and family are in New York. It's where I belong."
"Will you visit?"
Vanessa looked at Eric. Julia couldn't see him where he stood. He shook his head. It would be too painful for both of them if she ever came back.
"I don't think so," Vanessa said.
Tears fell from Julia' lashes and trailed down her round cheeks. She launched herself into Vanessa's arms.
"I'll miss you," she said, her voice muffled by Vanessa's t-shirt.
"I'll miss you too."
Julia pulled away and looked at her. "Will you call?"
Vanessa looked to Eric one last time. This was all up to him. He nodded.
"I'll try," Vanessa said.
She couldn't commit. She wasn't sure she'd be able to handle the chance of hearing his voice on the other line, so far away, a constant reminder of the life that had slipped through her fingers. Julia nodded and hugged her again. Vanessa squeezed back.
"You'd better finish getting ready for school," Eric said.
Julia nodded and ran upstairs. Eric put the dishes in the sink. He still didn't say a word. Julia came back to the kitchen a few minutes later and grabbed her backpack off the floor.
"Do you have cheerleading today?" Eric asked.
"Sure do."
She smiled. It didn't quite reach her eyes, but Vanessa felt sure that, by the end of the day, she'd be back to her bubbly, talkative self. Kids were resilient.
"Goodbye, Vanessa." They shared one last hug, and the girl headed for the door.
Vanessa waved. Eric put on his hat. He opened the door for Julia, then, finally, turned back to the New Yorker.
"Bye, Vanessa."
Then she was alone. Vanessa hugged herself tightly, tears pricking her eyes. She let the moisture fall. She needed to feel sorry for herself, just for a moment. The cold goodbye had been painful.
But she had to move. Vanessa couldn't bear to eat, so she grabbed her camera and took it back to the bedroom. She tossed it in a bag and moved her luggage to the kitchen. Then she did one last walk-through of the house to make sure she hadn't missed anything, trying not to dwell on memories. They wouldn't do her any good.
A car door slammed. Vanessa opened the front door for Tom. He hugged her, and Vanessa was surprised to see her car in the driveway.
"You got my car?"
"Bommer gave it to me. It's probably best if we just load up and go."
"Thanks, Tom. You're the best."
"I know."
He smiled, but something seemed off about her best friend. He was wearing his glasses, which told her he'd also been a little lax with his appearance this morning.
"Are you upset about leaving him?" she asked as they began moving her things to the car.
"Not upset, exactly."
"Are you going to tell me who he is?"
"No."
Vanessa frowned but didn't push it. When the car was packed, she went to say her goodbyes to Timberlake over the fence, but they were cut short when Eric came tearing into the driveway, kicking up dirt and gravel before skidding to a stop next to Vanessa's car. Tom looked up from rearranging the trunk.
Vanessa was frozen. He wasn't supposed to come back. He was supposed to drop off Julia and go to work. But here he was. He slammed the door hard behind him and advanced on her. She took a step back.
"What the hell is going on!" he demanded, all of the hurt and frustration he'd hidden for his daughter's sake finally coming to a head.
Timberlake barked. Vanessa still couldn't move. He stopped a few feet in front of her.
"What the hell, Vanessa?" he repeated in a softer tone.
She stared at him. She didn't know how to respond. She'd thought this was done. She thought she would never see him again.
"I'm sorry," she managed.
Eric shook his head and laughed without humor. "I thought you were in this."
"I am. I was. I'm sorry." Vanessa could feel her eyes filling with tears for the hundredth time as she tried to explain herself without actually explaining anything.
"You don't have anything else to say?"
Vanessa wanted to say a lot of things. She wanted to do a lot of things. She wanted to throw herself into his arms, go back to the house, have hot makeup sex, and live happily ever after.
But in just a few months, everything would change. Her little problem would become a big problem and she'd be wishing she'd left now. It was what she had to do. She ran a hand through her hair and crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself, trying to give herself the strength she needed to stand her ground.
"What else do you want me to say?"
He shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked the dirt. Everything she loved about him was rolled into that one movement—the love, the passion, the raw country boy charm. Her stomach twisted.
"You love me," he answered. "You're just getting cold feet. You don't mean it. You'll be right here when I come home today. Any of those would do just fine."
Vanessa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her lip trembled, but she kept her resolve.
"I do love you. I love everything about you. I broke your heart, and you're standing here, still asking me to stay. How can I not love you?"
"Then what the hell is the problem?"
"There are a lot of problems."
Eric stared at her. "Then stay. We'll fix them together."
"You're a nice guy, Eric—"
"You deserve a nice guy."
The tears fell. "So does Julia. You don't need to worry about me. You need to worry about stability."
"Don't tell me what I do and don't need to worry about. It's my decision. Mine. You don't get to decide what's best for my family."
"I get to decide what's best for me," she answered.
Eric turned away and grabbed the hat on his head, squeezing the bill hard in frustration before throwing it on the ground. He looked back at Vanessa. He was done begging. This was it. And it would hurt.
"Go, then," he said.
It felt just like the punch in the gut Vanessa had been expecting. She couldn't speak. She couldn't say goodbye again, and she was sure he didn't want to hear it. So she turned and walked away.
She wasn't welcome anymore. Their time together had been as short as it was intense. That was just something she'd have to live with.
Tom stood by the car, waiting for her or waiting to intervene if she needed him. But she didn't. She would never feel afraid of Eric.
"You drive," she said, sliding in the passenger's seat.
She slumped down low in her seat, trying to pretend Eric wasn't there. But as Tom pulled away, she couldn't help but glance back at the house. Eric watched her leave, hands in his pockets, face grim, hurt in a way she'd never wanted to see.
The tears came back with a vengeance, and she covered her face with her hands. Tom wrapped an arm around her shoulders, keeping one hand on the wheel. She was back to where she'd started, worse than when she'd started.
Eric was stunned. Vanessa was gone. She'd actually left, just like that, and now he had to pick up the pieces. Sharon would be disappointed, Ally would gloat, and Julia...Julia would be fine. He had no doubt. She'd been quiet on the ride to school. She missed her new friend. But she bounced back easily. He didn't. He ran a hand through his hair and picked his hat up off the ground.
He'd trusted her. He'd fallen for her, and she'd turned out to be nothing but a heartbreaker. She'd toyed with him, used him. And he'd loved every second of it. How could he have been so stupid?
&nbs
p; The last thing he wanted to do was go to work. He let himself in the house and glanced around the shadowed kitchen. He fidgeted with the keys in his pocket and turned on the light. He shouldn't have done what he did last night. He'd just begun closing himself off, trying to lessen the blow he knew was coming.
But he'd had to have her one last time. And now the sight of that kitchen counter made his heart clench, made him sick to his stomach. How had he let himself fall so hard so fast?
He stepped into the living room. He still saw her there, sitting on the couch with him and his daughter—a family. He glanced in the bedroom. It was empty. Abandoned. Again. He closed the door. She was everywhere. Eric sat on the couch and put his head in his hands.
A knock sounded on the front door. He didn't answer. He didn't know who it was, and he didn't care. He didn't want to see anyone. But whoever it was let themselves in. The front door opened and closed; footsteps sounded in the kitchen and entered the living room.
"Eric? What's wrong?"
Sharon. Here came the first letdown. He looked up. The woman had a container of cookies in her hands. Eric knew she'd been seeing a lot of Vanessa; it helped to fill the void left by Angela's death. But she wouldn't be seeing her this morning.
"She left."
"Oh, no." The older woman's face fell, and she came to sit beside Eric. "What happened?"
"I don't know."
"Well, something had to have happened. She was crazy about you. Did you two have a fight?"
"No. Once her car was fixed, she just...left. I guess the fairytale was over."
He clasped his hands together and rested his chin on his knuckles. It was too much like the day he'd found out Angela died. Another relationship gone. He had to mourn another lost love.
"I find that hard to bEriceve."
"You find what hard to bEriceve?"
"That it was so simple."
"Maybe it wasn't. But she's not giving me anything else to go on."
Eric rubbed his hands over his face and stood. Even if he didn't feel like working, it was better than sitting in the house alone all day. There were too many memories. Sharon stood with him.
"I should get to work," he said.
"I'll just leave these in the kitchen for you."
"Thanks."
She set the container on the counter, gave him a hug, and let herself out. Eric gave himself a few more minutes to grieve and then headed for his truck to start day one without Vanessa.
Tom took a cab to his apartment building. Vanessa was safe and sound with her parents. He'd helped take her things upstairs, given her one last hug, and then left to crash at his place. He wasn't an affectionate person, but Vanessa needed something right now, and hugs were all he had to offer.
Tom lugged his suitcase across the street and entered his building. He called the elevator and waited. He was happy to be home. It had been an exhausting few days, and he'd missed New York's bright lights and busy streets. He felt like a part of something here; it was where he belonged. But he missed Bommer. He couldn't call Vanessa crazy anymore. It might not be love, but feEricngs—intense feEricngs—were very possible at first sight.
Tom left his suitcase by the door and tossed his jacket on the couch. Then he turned on the news and reached in the cabinet for a bottle of Merlot. He'd missed this, too. He'd unintentionally spent every night with Bommer, and all the man had was beer. Tom didn't drink beer. But he suddenly missed the fridge full of Budweiser cans. He poured himself a glass of crimson liquid and sat on the couch. His apartment felt empty. It had never felt empty before. Damn that man.
Suddenly, his cell phone rang and he reached in his pants pocket to answer it. "Hello?"
"Hey." Bommer's familiar voice reached Tom's ears, and the New Yorker smiled before he could stop himself. "I just wanted to see if you got back okay."
"I did. I just walked in."
There was a pause. "I miss you."
"I miss you, too."
Tom sipped his wine and settled into the first romantic phone conversation he'd had in a very long time.
Vanessa's parents ordered Chinese food, and she picked at her noodles, trying to decide how best to tell them what had happened with Goe, and how much to tell them. Thankfully, he was the only wreckage they knew about, the only one she really had to explain. Her parents' parakeets chirped happily from the corner of the clean, white living room.
Vanessa briefly considered strangling them.
"So, honey, are you ready to talk about it?"
Her mother looked at her with those same sympathetic brown eyes she'd been using since Vanessa was four. Her father stared at her expectantly, still slurping won-ton soup and dribbling broth down his beard without noticing. Vanessa handed him a napkin.
"Goe and I had a fight."
"About what?"
Vanessa paused. Rekindling their relationship was a definite possibility in her mind. Kids changed people, didn't they? And shouldn't theirs have a shot at a normal life with Mommy and Daddy intact? She couldn't tell her parents everything. In fact, she couldn't tell them much of anything.
"I don't know. Stupid stuff."
"But it's over? For good?" Her mother was asking all the questions.
"I'm not sure. He wants to meet for dinner."
"Great! Maybe you two will find a way to reconcile. You just don't seem like yourself, and if you're this down, your heart's probably trying to tell you something. He made you happy more often than not, didn't he?"
Vanessa had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. It was all so simple for her mother. Her father had been a lawyer and she'd been his pretty young secretary. He'd swept her off her feet and then they lived happily ever after. Now that they were retired, she was living happily ever after after.
Their love had never faltered.
"Maybe," she allowed, knowing full well her mood had everything to do with Eric and nothing to do with Goe. She could take or leave her old flame, but the tiny person growing inside of her made her think she should take him. One shocking piece of news should be enough for today, anyway. "I'm pregnant."
Her parents stopped eating. They looked at one another, then back at Vanessa. Her mother's expression was somewhere between horror and elation. Her father clearly just wanted to take his food and run into another dimension where his daughter had never spoken. Vanessa ate a bite of lo mein while she waited for them to recover.
"Does Goe know?" her mother asked.
"Not yet. I'll tell him."
"Well, honey, you two should definitely kiss and make up."
"I know." Vanessa took another bite of food, not wanting to look her mother in the eye, not wanting to admit how serious their fight had actually been.
"How long have you...you know...been in the family way?" her dad spoke up.
"I don't know. A couple of months, probably."
"You should make a doctor's appointment right away," her mother said, elation winning the battle with trepidation. "Start taking vitamins, lay off the coffee. I'll plan the baby shower. After you find out if it's a boy or a girl, of course. This is so exciting! Harmon, we're going to be grandparents!"
Her father smiled half-heartedly and continued eating. Vanessa focused on one particular part of her mother's excited ramble.
"Wait, I can't drink coffee?"
"You can have one."
"One every day?"
"Yes."
"This might not work out."
"Oh, you'll be fine." She squeezed her daughter's arm.
"That's your biggest concern?" her father asked suddenly. "I mean, you can't...you know...you can't dance much longer."
"I know." Vanessa tried to appear unaffected by the information she already knew. "But I can still teach. And I'm sure I can snag a maternity shoot or something and make a little extra cash. Then I'll work on getting my body back and everything will be back to normal."
"Except you'll have a kid," her father reminded her.
"I know." Vanessa's attempt to stay p
ositive was failing. "I know that. Look, Dad, I just found out about this. Nothing's really going according to plan. But I'll figure it out."
Her father relented, possibly due to her mother's scathing look.
"Okay," he said.
"I'm kind of travel tired. I think I'll go to bed and watch some TV."
"Alright, sweetie," her mother answered.
Vanessa kissed her parents goodnight and went to her old bedroom, closing and locking the door behind her. She turned on the flat screen TV on top of her dresser, anxious to decompress. She changed into pajamas and opened the blinds to look down at taxis and fast-paced pedestrians. She'd always loved the view. Everyone was so busy, so important. She'd grown up wanting to be like them.
When she was modEricng, she'd succeeded. But that feEricng of importance disappeared right after the after parties. She turned into a pumpkin—just another New Yorker walking home, pretending she was in too much of a hurry to see the people around her. And when she looked deep down, the glamour of being a model really just meant she was a failed dancer. And, after meeting Goe, being a successful girlfriend meant the same thing. She'd always been just another New Yorker, searching for herself, thinking she had to be in a constant state of movement or she'd never catch up to her dreams.
When she was in Virginia, she hadn't felt that way at all. Relaxing for a day or two might not help her career, but it helped her sanity and personal relationships. It had helped her get to know Eric.
"Stop it," she scolded herself quietly.
She needed to keep her mind off of him. She had to put a different family first. The baby's family. Her family. She threw herself down on the comfortable, full-sized mattress and listened to reality TV until she fell asleep.
Chapter Sixteen
Vanessa spent the next day attempting to get her NYC life back in order. She made an appointment with her OB-GYN for Monday, made a lunch date with Tom for that afternoon, and now she was at the dance studio. She stepped into Ms. Janine's jazz class as she was dismissing. A group of high schoolers breezed past her. One of them waved. Another, Renee, stopped to chat.
"Where have you been?" she asked. "Ms. Janine said you couldn't tutor last week, but she didn't say why."
"I was sorting out a few personal things, but I'm back now. And I'm pregnant." She was trying to get used to saying it. "But I'll still be able to help you with that barrel jump."