Holly’s brows furrow together. “You were brought here by ambulance. The whole firm knows you’re here.”
“Really?” I peek through my fingers, mortified.
“It’s wasn’t so bad,” she says, biting the inside of her cheek. “Just think, you could have had your pants down in the bathroom when it happened. Instead, you fell down onto your chair, fainting like a Disney princess.”
I drop my arms and glare at her. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“You wanted to be noticed by the partners,” she teases.
“Not exactly what I had in mind,” I say, lowering my hands.
Holly stands, making her way to the side of my bed. “Let’s just worry about you and this little one right now,” she says, patting my stomach.
I look down, resting my hands on top of my large bump. “I should have eaten,” I whisper, quietly talking to my stomach. “I’m sorry.”
A small commotion outside in the hall redirects our attention. I hear my name being yelled loudly and repeatedly. The sound of shoes squeaking against the linoleum tile gets louder with every passing second. And then, that squeaking stops at the entrance of my room.
At finally finding me, Shane’s hands grip the side of the door frame, his fingertips turning white. The light from a large window in the room shines on his face, making the small sheen of sweat noticeable on his forehead. He lets out a long exhale, one that nearly cries relief at finding me. But his next breath isn’t nearly as tender. That one almost screams anger at seeing me here.
Defensively, I look over to Holly. “You called him?” I ask accusingly.
“Obviously,” she answers, scrunching her face.
Shane takes slow steps inside the room, stopping at the foot of the bed. His eyes quickly scan all the machines around me, to the monitors beeping, the IV taped to my hand. He swallows slowly, closing his eyes, releasing yet another emotion. Panic.
“Are you okay?” he asks, finally looking up, meeting my eyes.
Seeing him here, his frightened expression, shoulders slumped, voice slightly pitched, is awful. It only adds to my guilt of being here, leaving me only able to nod.
“What the hell happened?” he asks, his voice seeming to find itself.
I take a deep breath before answering. “Nothing. Everything is fine,” I say in the most assuring voice I can muster.
“If everything was fine, you wouldn’t be here,” he argues back. That panicked expression he carried a moment ago is slowly being replaced with a different one. One filled with accusation and displeasure. Against me. I sit up straighter in the bed, not liking how helpless I feel lying down.
“I forgot to eat breakfast and got a little dizzy. That’s all. This,” I say, motioning to the room, the machines, the bed, “is all just a precaution that I don’t really need.”
I glance over at Holly, silencing her with my stare. Letting her know that Shane absolutely does not need to know the extent of just how dizzy I got. When I look back at him, his eyes are squinting, thinking over what I just said. I hope my words ease some of his tension and he’ll relax a bit. I don’t want to fight with him again. Especially not when the last one we had still stings.
He looks down to the floor for a minute, his hands resting on his hips. He nods a few times and I feel better, thinking he’s going to let this drop.
“How could you forget to eat?” he scolds, looking back up.
His harsh tone hits me like a slap, a stinging mark left on my skin. Only it doesn’t hurt like I thought it would. It angers me. Not because he’s right, but because I already feel horrible enough without him shoving my negligence in my face. Shane so openly criticizing me for something I already know is my fault instantly has me wanting to fight back.
“It wasn’t on purpose,” I say, gritting my teeth together. “These things happen.”
“These things happen?” he repeats, sounding dumbfounded. “No, Comb, these things don’t just happen. They shouldn’t happen. Not when your number one priority is to take care of yourself and our baby.”
Is he serious right now? Is he really here to yell at me? Insult my parenting skills? What does he expect? That I stay at home with my feet up and wait while he hasn’t stopped once? That I let my career pass me by while he’s off building his own? Traveling to places all over the globe? Fucking models at every stop? Somewhere inside, I know that last thought sounds bitter, but I’m too insulted to give a fuck. It spurs my mouth into action.
“That’s funny, you talking about priorities. Where do models fall on that list?”
His head snaps back, hurt falling over his face at my emotional response. I hate that it doesn’t give me the satisfaction I was looking for. Hate that I hurt seeing him like that more than I feel justified in my response.
“I’m going to give you guys a few minutes,” Holly says, my head jerking in her direction, having completely forgotten that she was still in the room. We both watch as Holly exits, leaving us alone.
I refuse to look at him, too regretful at my choice of words and also because I can’t bear for him to see how vulnerable I feel in front of him. How scared I am that the reason we’re now joined together for life is also what’s tearing us apart.
I hear his light footsteps as he makes his way over to the side of bed, wheeling a small stool over to take a seat. He’s so close I can smell his cologne mixed in with the awful antibacterial cleaner that fills the hospital air. I wish I could pick out the musky spice that makes Shane’s scent so unique and wrap it around me. Remind me that before we found ourselves here, there was a Shane and Leah that never fought, never got angry, never hurt each other. That Shane and Leah seems like a distant memory. One I’m trying so hard not to let go of, not to lose in this mess we’ve made for ourselves.
“Holly’s call,” he starts. “It scared the shit out of me,” he says softly.
My eyes begin to burn, the threat of tears falling very real. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” I say, my tone equally soft. “I’m sorry.”
I want to tell him I’m sorry for all of it. For scaring him. For the harsh words I used earlier. For putting us in this situation in the first place.
Shane’s hand comes up and rests on top of my stomach, gently stroking my bump back and forth. “I don’t know how many more times I’ll have to say it, but I’ll keep doing it until you finally hear me. You and this baby are my priority.”
I swallow hard. “I’m your priority because of this baby.”
I hear him groan in frustration.
“Why can’t you just believe what I say? Why do you need to keep questioning this when there is nothing to question? I don’t know how much clearer I can be. I told you I loved you. I’m telling you that I’m in love with you. I want a future with you. Why are you fighting me?”
“Because you need to be sure,” I tell him back, equally frustrated. I take a few seconds to calm myself, to calm my breathing. “I can live with this baby being one of the reasons you want a future with me Shane. I can. But it can’t be the reason.”
He shakes his head, irritated. “I know pregnancy can mess with a woman’s brain, but you’re absolutely impossible right now.”
“It’s not crazy to want what’s best for me. What’s best for you!” I argue.
“No, it’s not,” he fights back. “But what’s best for us is this.” He points between us. “And it’s right here, in front of us. I’m here, in front of you. How can you not believe in it like I do?” He looks away from me. “It’s enough to drive me absolutely crazy.”
“If it’s so crazy, then why are you here?”
He lets out a small laugh, shaking his head, looking at me in disbelief. He leans in towards me, his eyes boring into mine. “Because, Comb, no matter how crazy you’re acting right now, or how crazy you drive me,” he stops and lightly brushes some of my hair back off my face, “it’s nowhere close to how fucking crazy I am about you.”
The skin on my face burns where his fingers touch me
. My heart begins to pound in my chest so much so I’m sure my monitors are about to go crazy themselves. It takes everything inside me not to crawl out of this bed and into his lap. But I can’t get rid of this gnawing feeling. Something telling me we both need time to really think about what we want our futures to look like. What we would have wanted had it not been for this pregnancy. It feels too easy to think we would have happened regardless even if Shane truly does believe in that. But that idea, that vision, is very different than the reality of what being together would actually look like for us now.
“Just please try and believe me,” he pleads. “You never doubted me before, don’t start doubting me now.”
Before I can answer, my doctor walks into the room. I’m not sure if I’m thankful or enraged at the interruption.
“How are we feeling?” the doctor asks, coming around, checking my chart.
“Much better,” I reply. “Ready to go home.”
The doctor smiles. “Your blood sugar was quite low, as was your blood pressure,” he says, flipping through the pages of my chart. “It says here that you forgot to eat today?”
I hear the flicker of judgment but swallow back my annoyance. “Yes,” I nod. “An oversight on my part. I’ve been very busy at work and it slipped my mind.”
“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that can’t happen,” he says slowly, as if I’m some kind of idiot.
I nod in agreement, refusing to look at Shane and seeing the tiny look of satisfaction he must have at me being educated on that once more.
“It concerns me that your job causes you that much stress and keeps you too busy to remember to eat. At the stage you are in your pregnancy, you need to be taking it easy. Not piling things on.”
“I’m an attorney in the middle of a rather large case. Rest and relaxation aren’t readily available at the moment,” I say, forcing a smile. “But I promise to keep better track of my meals.”
This doesn’t seem to go over well with the doctor. “Ms. Kessel, your due date isn’t that far away. You need to rest. The baby needs you to rest. I can’t stress that enough.”
“And I will,” I state. “Just soon as the case wraps up.”
“I really must insist—”
“Don’t worry, Doc,” Shane interrupts. “I’ll make sure she gets plenty of rest from now on.”
I turn and face Shane, annoyed he thinks he can try to manage my career. But my hard stare does nothing to his demeanor. He only looks down at me with an irritatingly, adorable grin. “We’re both going to be re-prioritizing.”
ONCE I WAS released from the hospital, I was forced to take a few days off work. Both on doctors and my boss’ orders. Some people love to stay home, watch Ellen and Dr. Phil all day. Not me. I hated every moment of it. I hated how every family Ellen helped turned me into an inconsolable mess. I hated the gum commercial that caused me to sob for over an hour. I hated sitting on my couch instead of a chair in the courtroom, hated how I spent hours channel surfing instead of case research. I hated not getting up and dressed in the mornings—actually I didn’t mind that. Being in my pj’s all day was actually really nice. But I hated that I had no reason to get out of them. I was bored and frustrated.
Holly said it would be good practice for the weeks and months to come. Once the baby was here, I’d be on a maternity leave any way. A couple of months. But at least then I’d have a baby to distract me. A baby to keep me busy, keep me company.
Having no distractions only left my mind open to everything I’ve been working so hard not to think about. My future. Shane’s future. If we really had a chance at one together.
Every corner of my apartment is a daunting reminder time is running low on figuring that out. The bassinette in my bedroom, a small changing table near my bed, piles of baby clothes and blankets in the closet. None of it belonging to Shane, but every single one of them reminding me of him and the giant question mark that falls over top of us.
Before I left the hospital, he took my hand and kissed my fingers, leaving me with these words. “I’m sure of us. That’s not going to change. But you seem to have a hard time hearing me, so I guess I’ll just need to show you.”
I didn’t have a chance to ask what he meant because the nurse came in with my discharge papers and all my focus fell on getting out of there. That was a few days ago. I haven’t seen him since but he’s called several times. He says he’s just checking in, but I know he’s really just making sure I’m at home, doing nothing. Just like I was told.
Thank God Holly is on her way over. I’m in need of someone to talk to and anything other than my life to think about. And with Holly and Eddy’s wedding coming up this weekend, I’m sure she’ll have lots to say that has nothing to do with me and Shane.
After folding yet another basket of baby clothes, I’m relieved to hear a knock at my door. But relief turns to surprise as soon as I open it.
“Cassandra,” I say, completely thrown aback to see my boss standing in my hallway.
“Hello, Leah,” she responds. After a few seconds of silence, she raises her brows in expectation. “May I come in?”
“Yes, yes. Absolutely,” I say, opening the door wider to allow her entrance. I quickly scan my apartment, relieved that it looks in good shape. I see no dirty clothes in plain sight and only a mug of tea sits on my coffee table. “Please, sit down.” I usher her towards my couch.
She takes a seat, her eyes roaming around my tiny apartment, finally landing on the pile of baby clothes folded beside her.
“Not too much longer now,” she says, fingering the pile of clothes.
I take a breath and sit on the chair next to the couch. “A few weeks,” I agree. A strange silence follows—a slightly uncomfortable one at that. I watch as she picks up a gray and yellow sleeper, her fingers gently running over the tiny duck stitched on it. A small smile appears on her face.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been around these little things. They didn’t have this cute stuff years ago like they do now,” she explains. “You’re lucky.”
A new awareness comes over me. I never pictured Cassandra Fairfax to be a mother. She doesn’t wear a wedding ring, has no framed photos on her desk, has never even uttered a word about having her own children, but watching her look through my baby’s clothes, it’s obvious to me now.
“How many do you have?” I ask, immediately feeling dumb for prying. What if she doesn’t talk about it for a reason? What if she keeps that side of herself closed off because she can’t talk about it. What if I just brought up a topic that is too painful for her and that’s why she never speaks of it? I’m about to apologize for my intrusiveness, but she speaks first.
“Two. A boy and a girl.”
I exhale in relief.
“Years ago, you didn’t talk about it at work. Especially if you were a woman and especially if you were playing in the boys playground. It was much tougher then to have it all. You had to pay a much bigger price in order to get it.”
She refolds the sleeper and places it back on the pile of clothing before turning to face me. I watch as she crosses her legs, followed by her arms.
“It will be tough,” I say, agreeing with her, “but I won’t lose sight of my career goals. Of what I want to achieve. Achieve with this firm.”
The need to reassure her of my dedication to the firm comes strong. I want her to know, to understand, that I look forward to all the future cases that will come across my desk. I want to explain that me becoming a mother doesn’t mean I’m giving up on my career or slowing down. She of all people should understand that. She, herself knows it’s possible to be both mother and kick ass attorney. She’s done it already.
“I admire your ambition, your determination. You remind me of myself when I was your age,” she says. “Lucky for you, I can burst your bubble now quietly instead of it exploding in your face sometime in the future.”
I blink a few times, unsure if I heard correctly. Burst my bubble? What the hell does that me
an? Is she here to fire me? Can they do that? Because I’m pregnant?
“Cassandra—Ms. Fairfax,” I begin, but she continues on.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to try and work a case when you’ve been up all night with a sick child? To be at the office instead of home when all your child wants is for you to be there taking care of them? To miss soccer games, dance recitals, school plays because you’re stuck in court? You don’t yet, but you will if you don’t make an adjustment to the vision of your near future.
“Are you firing me?” I question.
She almost laughs. “No, Leah, I’m not firing you. I am trying to ready you on how to balance motherhood and a career, especially one as demanding as this one is. Learning it sooner rather than later will save you so much hardship in the end. Trust me. This is coming from experience.”
Is that why she never talks about her children? Because she never learned how to balance it? That she missed too much of her children’s childhood that she’s not a part of their adulthood? Sadness at that thought comes over me.
“Don’t feel bad for me yet. I have a wonderful family and great relationships with my children…now.” She pauses for another second. “But I’ll always look back and regret not making it more of a priority to go to those little things. A soccer game I promised to make it to but missed. The only game Jeffrey scored a goal. The dance recital Lauren still remembers me missing. She was only three but still brings it up to this day.” Cassandra laughs.
“But it all worked out in the end,” I argue.
“Oh it did. But it took a while,” she says through a smile. “I insisted I could have it all, do it all, be everything all at once. That’s why I came here tonight. To offer you some advice from someone who has been in your shoes. Of course, it’s completely up to you if you take it, but here it is nonetheless,” she looks right at me. “You can have it all, Leah. You can do it all. But…it doesn’t all have to happen right now.”
I look down at my hands resting on my lap. They’re nearly sitting on my knees with how much my stomach has grown. Shane’s words at the hospital start ringing in my ears.
Everything Unexpected Page 24