Unbreakable (Unrestrained #4)

by S. E. Lund

  When my beer was finished, I stood and pulled on my jacket. “Time to go. Kate will be waiting.”

  “Tell her I hope she’s feeling better soon.”

  I nodded and we shook hands. “Thanks,” I said. “I will.”

  We were on our way out and I thought I had escaped Lisa for the night, but no luck. When Dave went to his car, I went to mine which was parked a few cars down.

  Of course, it was then that Lisa made her move. The real reason she came to the pub.

  “Drake,” she said, running to catch me before I got in the driver’s side. “Wait. I wanted to talk to you.”

  I had my key fob out and had unlocked the door when she reached my side. I turned to her, trying not to frown. I remembered Lara’s advice to humor her.

  “What can I do for you? I really have to get home to Kate…”

  “Can I catch a ride?” she said, breathless from running.

  I sighed audibly. “Of course,” I said. I got in the car and unlocked the other doors. She climbed in beside me and fastened her belt.

  “Thanks, Drake,” she said. “It’s going to rain. I’d rather not have to take the subway or take a taxi. I had a rental but parking was so hard, I decided to let it go and use the transit system, but it’s nasty at night.”

  “No problem,” I said, deciding to play it really cool and be pleasant and calm.

  We drove down the streets and I really didn’t want to make conversation with her, so I let the silence hang between us.

  “Are you going to talk to me?” she said in a petulant voice. “Considering you had your dick down my throat at one time, and then up my ass, I’d think you might be a little friendlier…”

  I gripped the steering wheel and fought to keep my eyes on the road. It took a moment for me to recover from her blatant statement.

  I didn’t remember that part of our encounters. I tried hard, but it sounded like the me from those days. I liked to tie up my partners and fuck their mouths and then do anal. It seemed the least intimate way to get off.

  “What would you like to talk about?”

  She moved around, her arm going on the back of my seat. “We haven’t had lunch yet. I’d like to go to Misha some day, for the borscht. You love Russian food, right? How about tomorrow?”

  “Can’t,” I said, my mind working on what I could use as an excuse. “Going over to the Foundation to do some work.”

  “What day will you take me?”

  I stopped at a traffic light, my heart pounding, my hands gripping the wheel far too hard.

  “Lisa, we are not going to do this.”

  She smiled, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Yes, we are. In case you forgot, you’re supposed to be nice to me.”

  “I am nice to you. I’m giving you a ride home. It’s out of my way. That’s a nice thing to do.”

  She actually pouted. “I said I wanted us to have lunch, go out for a drink, have coffee, talk in the halls – like you do with other colleagues.”

  I inhaled deeply, driving on once the light changed, my mind working to figure out how to handle this.

  “Look, I’m a newlywed with a wife I adore. I’d rather not become too friendly. Sorry. We’re colleagues at work, and of course we’ll consult and be friendly—at work.”

  We pulled up to her apartment block and I left the car in drive, not planning on spending one iota more time with her than absolutely necessary. I waited for her to get out of the car.

  “I think lunch next week at Misha is on the agenda. I’ll see you tomorrow for coffee when you’re done. Message me when you’re finished at the foundation. I’ll come by your office.”

  She opened her door, but I stopped her before she could leave.

  “No, Lisa. I can’t. I’m not going to be taking you out for lunch to Misha next week and I’m busy all afternoon and don’t have time for coffee.”

  “You will,” she said and got out bending down to look at me from the open door. “You’ll message me and I’m having coffee with you tomorrow and lunch next week. Maybe Tuesday since I’m busy Monday.”

  “Or what?”

  “Or I have lots of stories to tell. Lots of people who might be very interested in those stories.” Then she smiled and slammed the door, flouncing off up the stairs and into her building.

  Did she really think I was going to take her out for lunch and coffee and drinks under duress?

  She was unhinged.

  I wrote an email to Fred Parker while I sat there, my car engine idling.

  Fred, I have to see you asap. I’ll be withdrawing from the fellowship due to unforeseen circumstances. Can you get the paperwork going? Thanks and sorry for the trouble. Cheers, Drake.

  I didn’t send it. Instead, I saved it to my email server and would wait until I spoke with Kate.

  Then I drove off. Lisa was not going to win. The best offense is a defense and so I decided to go on defensive. I’d withdraw, take a leave of absence, and cut Lisa off at the pass. She wanted war? Sun Tzu wrote that the supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting. I wasn’t going to fight at all. I wasn’t even going near the battlefield.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Kate

  I never counted on the fatigue.

  I thought I’d take the meds and would be back to normal, but the side effects made me feel so tired, I had a hard time going about my day. Despite the meds, I was still slightly nauseated in the early morning, and started throwing up my crackers and water, which I kept at my bedside so I could get something into my stomach. Sometimes, an empty stomach was worse than having some food in it.

  I only threw up once in the day, so that was much better than before, but I felt like a zombie the rest of the day and it wasn’t until bedtime that I stopped feeling like I could sleep standing up. As a result, I didn’t get any real work done until late at night¸ and Drake became concerned. We went to see Dr. McAllister again and she gave me a different prescription for a new medication that worked better to stop nausea without any risk to the baby or mother. It was new, and I didn’t want to take it unless my morning sickness got intolerable again.

  So while my nausea and morning sickness had diminished from the weeks before, and wasn’t as debilitating, I still didn’t get much work done on my thesis. It made me frustrated and sad, so the few hours I had late at night were the only time I could get any work done. I was behind and had to ask for yet another extension.

  I’d called Dr. Brandt, one of my thesis advisors, and asked him if I could get more time.

  “Kate, at some point, it might be better to take a leave of absence for the rest of the year rather than keep delaying. You can always come back and finish your thesis when you’re feeling better, after the baby’s born and you’ve adapted to life as a new mother. Believe me, the university will still be here, the program will still be here, and all of us will still be here.”

  “You’re right,” I said, resigned to it. “I’ve been given a different medication but it’s pretty new and it’s making me so sleepy that I can’t focus. I’ll take the rest of the semester off and we’ll see how I feel once the baby is older.”

  So, it was with real sadness that I withdrew from my MA program a semester earlier than I thought I would have to. In fact, I sat down after I hung up the phone and cried my eyes out.

  When Drake got home later that night, we sat down on the sofa after having dinner, and I broke the news to him.

  “I withdrew from the MA program for a year.”

  He turned to me and frowned. “What? Why?”

  I shook my head. “I had to ask for another extension because I just can’t get any work done and Dr. Brandt suggested I take a leave of absence and come back when I’ve had the baby and have adjusted.”

  When I said it, I burst into tears again. Drake immediately pulled me into his arms and cradled me, letting me cry.

  “Shhh,” he said, his lips at my ear, kissing my chin and cheek and then mouth. “Are you sure you want to do thi
s?”

  I nodded, wiping my cheeks. “I can’t get any work done. It’s like my brain is in a fog.”

  “It’s okay,” Drake said and embraced me again. We remained like that for a while, our arms around each other, and I listened to him breathe, letting his warmth infuse me.

  “Guess what I’m doing,” he said and pulled away, looking in my eyes. “I’m withdrawing from the fellowship tomorrow.”

  “What?” I said and wiped my eyes. “Why? Is Lisa threatening you again?”

  He nodded and all of a sudden, a leave of absence didn’t seem so bad. Drake had to withdraw from the fellowship because of her. She could ruin him if she wanted.

  “She could still hurt you,” I said, angry at the bitch. “If you withdraw, she’ll be angry that she won’t have access to you any longer.”

  “She wants to go out for lunch, Kate. She mentioned dinner. I think that’s just the start of her evil plan to seduce me.”

  I wiped my eyes, smiling at his attempt to be funny and diffuse the situation.

  “Will she succeed?” I asked, only joking.

  “No,” he said and frowned, taking me seriously. “Of course not. I despise her at this point.” He shook his head vehemently and took my chin in his hand. “I wouldn’t touch her with a ten-foot pole even if she was the last woman on earth. Of that, you can be certain.”

  “Phew,” I said and smiled, threading my arms around his neck and smiling up at him. “That’s pretty harsh… I mean, even I’d understand if she was the last woman on earth…”

  “Seriously, I hate her,” Drake said. “I hate that she has power over me. I’d rather use my hand or a watermelon, for that matter.”

  “A watermelon?” I said and laughed at the image that created.

  Drake smiled. “I read this case once about a man who had intimate relations with a watermelon and got a seed jammed up his urethra. That always struck me as a true absolute last resort.” He laughed and looked at me, shaking his head. “The human sexual response is a mystery sometimes. I hate the bitch so much at this point, I can’t imagine it.”

  “I know,” I said and leaned my head against his shoulder. “I hate her, too. Don’t let her force you out of the fellowship. You’ll be done soon and it would be a crime to stop now. You’re only a few months away and if you can stick it out, you can say goodbye to her.”

  “You think so?” he said, doubtfully. “I have my resignation email all typed up and ready to send.”

  “Don’t send it. Appease her. Go out for lunch with her. Think of watermelons.”

  Drake laughed at that and we wrapped our arms around each other once more, snuggling into the soft couch and listening to the music on the satellite radio station.

  Since I couldn’t make the deadlines for my thesis, I’d spend those few hours each night that I did feel somewhat conscious working on a few paintings that I’d started in Nairobi. I became more of a night owl than I had ever been before. Drake and my schedules conflicted as a consequence with him getting up early and me staying in bed most of the morning with my blankets thrown over my head to block out the light. I’d get up around noon, try to hold down something light – tea and a shot of apple-ginger juice I made freshly each morning and then if it worked, chicken rice soup and a few crackers. When my lingering nausea faded towards dusk, I’d have a healthy meal with Drake, and then when he went to bed at ten o’clock, I’d stay up and sit at my computer, read over research and data for my thesis, eat another meal of soup and crackers, and then I’d head to bed around two in the morning.

  We had to delay our trip to Africa again because I was still far too sick, and that was the hardest decision to make. Once the baby was born, it would be all the harder to go so we sat down and decided to go once I was free of my nausea but before I was six months pregnant. I didn’t want to miss the anniversary of Liam’s death, but Drake was adamant and so we cancelled plans, deciding to go once my morning sickness had ended. Since I had no idea how long my morning sickness would last, we decided to wait and book at the last minute. Loisaba Lodge would have to wait for some future date.

  It was time for my next ultrasound and it was the only thing keeping my spirits up for my morning sickness persisted despite the medication. We went back to NYP and this time, I had an abdominal ultrasound to check on the baby’s nuchal folds to make sure there was no sign of Down’s Syndrome. We also asked to know the baby’s sex, and so while the technician scanned my belly, Drake held my hand and stood beside me on the other side of the bed.

  “There you go,” the tech said and turned the screen. “See that?” she said and pointed to a structure that looked like a vee. “That is a set of female genitalia. You have a baby girl.”

  Drake leaned down and kissed me when he heard the news, and I was surprised. For some reason, I thought I’d have a boy but I was happy to have a girl. I’d never had a sister, and so it would be fun.

  “I’m so glad,” Drake said, kissing me over and over again. “A little Katie.”

  “Sophia,” I said, correcting him. It was my mother’s middle name and the name of my great aunt, who died in the camps in Poland.

  “Sophia,” Drake said. “But I hope she looks like you.” He brushed the hair off my cheek and smiled.

  “I hope she has your blue eyes,” I countered. “And dark hair. I don’t want her to look like me.”

  “She’ll look like whoever she looks like,” Drake said in a mock stern voice. “But I hope she looks like you,” he added and kissed my protest.

  “Okay, you two,” the technician said with a laugh. “You’re all done now. See you again at eighteen weeks. Dr. McAllister will have the results and will call you.”

  That Saturday night, at the end of February, Mersey was playing at O’Riley’s.

  “I didn’t throw up at all today,” I said to Drake, while we sat in front of the television watching news and were waiting for our dinner to be ready. “I woke up at ten and stayed up.”

  His face brightened. “Does this mean I have my wife back?”

  “I hope so,” I said and crossed my fingers, holding them up for him to see.

  He scooched closer to me and put his arms around me, pulling me tightly against him.

  He kissed me and smiled. “Do you want to come to O’Riley’s to celebrate?” Drake asked. “We play two sets. You could come to the second one around eleven so we’ll have had time to warm up before you arrive. We’re usually stiff during the first set, and since there aren’t a lot of patrons in the bar, we don’t feel too bad. By the time you get there, we’ll be ready.”

  I put the TV remote down and focused on him. “Do you mind if I come? I understand if you’d rather keep one portion of your meal from touching the other parts, but I’d love to hear you play with Ken and the boys. Besides, this is the first time I’ve felt well since becoming pregnant.”

  Drake shook his head, his eyes meeting mine. “Baby, I’m in so deep, I don’t mind at all. I want a stew. A nice mélange of flavors all blending together. Come tonight.”

  “Okay,” I said, nervous and excited to be going.

  So it was that I sat at home alone in the 8th Avenue apartment, waiting for my ride to arrive. My father had graciously allowed me to use his limo service and so at around ten forty-five, I got a call from the driver that he was waiting downstairs. I finished brushing my hair and checked myself in the mirror, then I went out into the night, my stomach all butterflies, but in a good way.

  The small stage was set up in the back of the bar, in the corner. There were a dozen small round tables on the floor as well as a lot of seating space at the bar itself. Behind the bar, a mirrored wall had shelves of glasses and bottles of liquor, as well as several kinds of beer on tap. The polished wood counter top looked ancient and the corners and edge were worn from years of use, although it had been recently revarnished and was smooth. Brass fixtures and railing lined the bar top.

  Cocktail waitresses in black dresses with white aprons moved between t
he restaurant that was still busy, and the lounge. Canned music played in the background during the break between sets. About thirty patrons were in the pub itself.

  Even though I had been there before for Sunday dinner, I stood in the entrance to the bar and took it in, feeling somewhat shy. One of the cocktail waitresses came up to me, her tray in hand filled with pints of beer.

  “Can I help you?”

  I hesitated, shrugging my shoulders. “I’m here to listen to Mersey.”

  “Go into the bar and have a seat,” she said. “Colin’s bartending tonight.”

  I thanked her and walked into the bar.

  “Kate!” Colin waved me over when he saw me. He leaned over the bar and kissed my cheek. “I’m so glad you came tonight. What can I get you?” Colin asked, resting his hands on the bar. “Given your delicate condition, I have a selection of sodas and bar lime plus I can make you a mean virgin margarita or piña colada, if you want something fancy.”

  “I’ll have a soda and lime,” I said. Then Sarah showed up and came over to give me a hug.

  “So good to see you again,” she said. “How are you feeling? Drake told Ken you’d been really sick for the past few weeks.”

  “Much better. Today was really the first day I didn’t throw up, so it’s time to celebrate.” I smiled at her and held up my glass of soda and bar lime.

  Drake came out of the back room, with Ken following. He smiled when he saw me.

  “Don’t crowd the poor girl,” he said and pushed past Ken in a playfully competitive manner. He leaned in and kissed me on the mouth, lingering there a tad longer than necessary, as if he wanted to claim me in front of everyone. He was grinning widely when he pulled away. “You’re just in time for the second set. All Rolling Stones and Beatles.”

  “Will you be playing And I Love Her?” I asked softly, not wanting anyone else to hear.

  “Count on it,” he replied and then kissed me again.

  Mrs. O’Riley showed up as well, and said hello, planting a huge kiss on my cheek.