All the Waters of the Earth (Giving You ... Book 3)

by Leslie McAdam

  “Both, I think.”

  Later that day, we shopped in the antique and vintage stores, visited the art museum, loving the sketch books on display, which showed the thought processes the artists went through to create, went swimming in the vintage pool, and cleaned off together in the shower, which led to a few more orgasms. We went to sushi for dinner and, warm and sated, fell asleep comfortably.

  The next morning, my head was in the toilet.

  He came to the door of the bathroom and knocked quietly. “Are you okay, honey?”

  “Yeah,” I called, not feeling it. I’d been feeling bad since Christmas. “I will be.” And I slumped up against the wall. All sorts of scenarios ran through my head of what was wrong with me. What it could be.

  But all I wanted to be was home.

  Four days later, it poured rain in Santa Barbara. With our drought, we needed it. I walked into my doctor’s office, checked in with the receptionist, and sat down on the one open seat. The waiting room was packed with people, and four of the women surrounding me had huge bellies.

  Oh shit. I knew it wasn’t contagious. But still, I felt unbearably uncomfortable being here.

  The office attempted to have a personality with funky patterns on the chairs and piles of magazines. Regardless, it was an institutional doctor’s office. I mainly focused on trying to avoid panicking.

  Every morning since Sunday in Palm Springs I got sick. My boobs hurt. I was achy. And so, so tired.

  No fucking way.

  This couldn’t be happening again. Right? Right?

  The door opened to the waiting room and a nurse with a clipboard and purple scrubs called, “Lucy?” Gathering my purse, I stood up. Going to this appointment on my own was my idea. I’d made the appointment for a time when Jake was at work and Rob was in school, not wanting to tell anyone in case I was wrong. Now that I was actually here, however, I knew that I’d made the wrong decision. Some support would have been welcome. I always was surrounded by friends and family. And Jake. Bad idea to not have them because I knew deep down what I was going to find out today. I was sure that my suspicions would be confirmed. A woman knows. I just didn’t understand why it had happened.

  The nurse weighed me in the hall and then walked me into an exam room. I perched on the paper-covered examination table, the crinkle sound registering loudly in the quiet room.

  I breathed in and out.

  “When was your last menstrual cycle?” she asked.

  I told her. “I’m three days late,” I whispered. “I’m on the pill. It’s always on time, exactly.”

  “Let’s have you take a urine test.” She opened a drawer, pulled out a cup, and handed it to me. I hopped off the table, and walked the plank down the hall to the bathroom.

  It felt like a doomed trip, like I was headed for my sentencing date at my trial. What was the punishment going to be? Another eighteen years?

  The hall closed in on me as I walked to the bathroom.

  I peed in the cup.

  I went back to the room.

  The doctor came in.

  Yep. Pregnant.

  I was in a daze. I managed to ask, “How did this happen? I mean I know how, but I was on the pill.”

  “When you were prescribed doxycycline for the community acquired pneumonia, it lowered the effectiveness of your oral contraception for about five days.”

  I just stared at her.

  She repeated in English, “The antibiotics made the pill not work. So, obviously, since you’re pregnant, stop taking your pill, and start taking a good prenatal vitamin.” She went on, giving me instructions and handing me pamphlets. Somehow I got out of there, with a follow up appointment scheduled. I left the building and, having forgotten an umbrella, managed to have the perfect luck to step outside when there was a torrential downpour. Then I stepped in a puddle.

  Soaked, I got in my car and buckled myself in.

  I was pregnant with Jake’s baby.

  And all I could think was that I did it again. Total recidivist. You would think that I’d learned from my past. But I was pissed because I had learned from Carlos. I’d learned so fucking much. I’m not stupid. I was careful. Since Rob, I’d been on the pill and I hadn’t even had sex for twelve years. That’s how careful I was. This was not fair.

  But now I was yet again going to be a mother.

  I started crying, my body chilled, sitting in my driver’s seat, rain pouring down, not going anywhere. Raging hormones stirred up the memories of the abandonment I felt when Carlos had broken up with me and then refused to have anything to do with me after he’d found out I was pregnant. I’d made a promise to myself that I would never get into the same circumstance that I was in with Carlos, but here I was, a second time over pregnant, unwed woman.

  Fuck.

  I was collapsing on the inside, my brain resurrecting every negative thing that I had ever heard said, not just to me, but in general, about pregnant, unwed mothers. Years of being strong? Sassy? Wise? Gone. Now thoughts had found a landing space somewhere in my psyche in the form of shame and I started talking to myself in the most unhealthy way. My baby daddy was going to leave me. I was going to have to fight for child support again.

  Tears streaming down my face mixed with the rain in my hair, but I had to leave the parking lot. I needed to clean up my face so that I didn’t freak out Rob when he got home from school. Thinking of a way to tell Jake was going to take some time, and I had no idea when to do it.

  I made it home somehow, but when I got there I couldn’t have told you how I did it, I was so lost in my thoughts. Toxic thoughts.

  I opened my front door and an overwhelming smell of good food invaded my nostrils. What on Earth?

  “Lucy?” called Jake. “I wanted to surprise you with making you lunch. I thought you would be here, but when you weren’t, I started cooking.”

  Wiping my eyes, I set myself in the doorway, dripping, unsure of what to do. He rounded the corner from the kitchen, took one look at my face, and his smile disappeared. “Honey, what is it?”

  I stood there, mute, unable to tell him. Tears streamed down my face again, and I held onto the doorknob for support. I dropped my purse and just looked at him.

  He closed the gap between us and folded me into his arms, kissing the top of my head. He held me for a long time, not saying anything, just holding me. I could hear his heartbeat, my ear pressed into his chest, and it soothed me. His strong arms around me also soothed me. And his head cradling the top of my head, with his lips kissing my hair—that was the best part. I was sure I was getting his clothes wet but he didn’t move, he just held me.

  After a few moments, we broke apart, and neither one of us said anything. He stepped away for a moment, went down the hall, and came back with a box of Kleenex. I smiled despite myself. “Thanks.”

  Feeling hopeless, useless, stuck, I just stood there by my doorway, wanting to tell him, needing to get it off of my chest, but at the same time not wanting to tell him for fear that he would react badly. After all, I’d seen him react badly when we went through the fight with Carlos.

  I was just so scared. The last time this had happened to me, it had not gone well.

  But that was Carlos and this was Jake. Jake, who told me that he loved me. Who’d sacrificed for me and who had taken care of my child.

  It had to be okay. It just had to. But I didn’t know how he would react.

  He brought a finger forward and trailed it along my jaw. Looking at me, straight into my brown eyes, he said, “You know you can tell me anything, right? Anything at all. It’s okay, whatever it is, I’ll help you with it. You’ll be safe. I’ll help. It’s going to be okay.”

  And now it was my turn to rush into him, needing his embrace again, needing the assurances that everything was going to be okay. He let me cry into his chest not asking any questions, just letting it be.

  “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he continued in a whisper. “But I’m here for you if you need to
tell me something.”

  I took a deep breath.

  And let it out.

  And looked at him in his face straight out of one of my books. This guy who wasn’t perfect, but who was noble, artistic, protective, and hot.

  The best, most real man I had ever met.

  Then I closed my eyes, opened them, and out came the words, “I’m pregnant.”

  He blinked.

  I stared at him, a tear running down my nose, my blouse sticking to me, my feet cold and wet.

  He blinked again and cocked his head to the side, holding up a finger in suspended animation.

  I bit my lip. “It’s true. I just got back from the doctor’s office. The antibiotics when I was sick made the pill not work.”

  “You’re pregnant?” he whispered.

  I nodded. “Yes. Not just a little bit. All the way pregnant. With your baby.”

  “You’re pregnant with my baby?” he whispered again.

  “You’re freaking me out here, nene. I haven’t had time to process this. I didn’t think you’d be here. I was going to plan a way to tell you, but I just found out myself. I am in total shock, and I don’t know what to do. I am pissed that I did this again to myself. I’m a pregnant, unwed mother yet again,” I spat out angrily and then started crying some more. “And I love children and I’ll love this child and I love you and I don’t know what you think or how you’re going to take this and I’m scared,” I finished, sobbing.

  He leaned into me and his eye twitched a little and he started to shake his head back and forth.

  Oh shit.

  “I never thought—” he started, still whispering, and then he stopped.

  “Never thought what?” I asked, now shivering. His reaction—or non-reaction—was going to be the death of me.

  But I was at the emotional end anyway.

  “Oh, Lucy,” he choked out. He reached under my arms, wrapped me in a big hug, and lifted me off the ground, spinning me around, nestling his face in my neck. Then he started repeating, “It’s okay, it’s going to be okay.” He set me down, but didn’t let go, still keeping his face in my neck.

  God, did I have to push him? What did that mean? What was he thinking?

  He ran both hands through the back of my hair, a calming gesture. He stood there for a moment, looking at me.

  Then he got down on both knees in front of me, pulling me to him by my waist.

  And then he lifted up my wet blouse and kissed my belly tenderly, reverently.

  He brushed his hand over my belly, gently.

  “Our baby is in here?”

  I nodded.

  With a rush, he wrapped his arms around my waist and embraced me firmly. I leaned over and nuzzled his dark, thick, good-smelling hair.

  “I’m so happy,” he whispered. He pulled back to look at me, his blue eyes moist. “So happy.”

  “Yeah?” I asked, finally hopeful.

  “Yeah. I am so happy. This is my chance. I always wanted a child. This is my chance to do it right. Our chance.” He paused and stood up. “God, I love you. I’ll do anything for you.”

  And now my tears started welling up again, but this time I was crying with relief.

  “It’s going to be okay?” I asked, quietly.

  “Yeah,” he said, just as quiet, smiling and reassuring me, “It’s going to be okay.” Then he swooped down and picked me up, under my knees and neck, my booty hanging down, and carried me to the couch. “Hang on a second.”

  Jake was okay with it.

  Yay.

  He went into the bedroom and came back with a clean t-shirt and yoga pants for me, dry, and a towel. Then he went into the kitchen, did something, and came back, looking sheepish. “I wanted to surprise you with lunch, so I enlisted your mom. She made you a tortilla casserole. I didn’t want to burn it, so I turned it off.”

  “You came home for me?”

  He grinned. “New to me, too. I mean, I work in town. It’s not like I can’t take a lunch break. I thought you’d be home. Then I thought it would be nice to surprise you when you returned from wherever you were, but you surprised me. This is so surreal. Get warm, here,” he said, and he helped me change.

  “So this is what happens when I give you keys, guapo? You surprise me with lunch from my mom? I’m good with that.”

  Once I was dressed, he wrapped me in a blanket and sat down next to me on the couch and gathered my feet into his lap. “I still need to process this,” he said seriously. I reached out and ran my finger along his cheekbone.

  “Me too.”

  “But you? How are you? How are you feeling?”

  “Emotionally or physically?”

  “Both.”

  “Emotionally? In shock. I didn’t know how I could have gotten pregnant. Pissed that I am. Already in love with my baby. Our baby. Scared as to your reaction. Panicked about being left alone again.”

  “Not gonna happen. You’re it for me.”

  I looked at him gratefully.

  Then he asked, “What about physically?”

  “Crappy. Achy. I knew something was wrong.”

  “I’m so sorry.” He paused. “Look. You’re not going through this alone. I want to go to every doctor’s appointment. Is that okay?”

  I nodded happily.

  “What else do you want? Anything. If you wanted to get married today, I’d do it.”

  What? I was taken aback. “Are you serious?”

  He nodded. “That’s not the way I wanted to do it, but yeah, I’m serious. Anything you want. We’re in this together, you’re not alone.”

  Did he just propose?

  “I think we should wait,” I said. “We’re still new.”

  Jake went into problem-solving mode. “Think about what you want and need, and we’ll do it. I don’t want to move too fast, but you and Rob can move in with me, or I’ll sell my house and move here. Want to be with you. For real, I mean. This speeds it up, but it’s right, don’t you think? I mean, you and me? I don’t want to frighten you off.”

  “That doesn’t frighten me. Being abandoned frightens me. It’s fast, yeah, too fast.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Think about it. Whatever you want to do, I’ll do it.” His voice softened and got a little dreamy. “I love kids. I never thought I would have a chance for one. It’s the best news I’ve ever received. Better than passing the bar or anything having to do with work or school. The best.” Given his past, this had to be true. I knew that he didn’t have a lot of positive things in his past and it was a complete relief to know that he was on board about this. If he hadn’t been? I didn’t know what I would have done.

  He leaned over and gave me a blistering kiss, probing, wild. And then his phone in his pocket sounded. God bless him, he ignored it, moving in for a deeper kiss, starting to run his hands down my neck, my breasts.

  “I could take you now,” he said against the skin on my neck, “under this blanket. Since we have a few hours before Rob has to be home.”

  “‘Kay,” I said.

  We ate lunch late.

  After, when we were cleaning up the dishes, I got to thinking.

  This baby was something that Jake and I had created out of love, and while it surprised both of us, both of us wanted it. And I thought about how much I’d changed since I had Rob.

  I wasn’t a seventeen-year-old girl, still in high school, losing my virginity to a slimeball in the parking lot.

  And that seventeen-year-old girl had a lot to be proud of. I was an excellent mother to my skinny, bookish son who I’d raised under not ideal circumstances. My job was my dream job, and I made money at it. I loved my job. I owned my own home, I had fabulous friends and family who surrounded me and supported me.

  And now I had Jake.

  As I thought about it, I thought that maybe I needed to forgive the seventeen-year-old girl who had unprotected sex. I was a strong woman because of it.

  As I forgave myself, a lot of the emotional weight I’d been holding onto washed
away with the dishes.

  I looked at Jake, teary-eyed, yet again. “I think we’re going to be okay.”

  “Yeah,” he said, giving me a squeeze and drying off a plate, “I think we are.”

  When he gathered his keys to go back to work, he checked his phone and his eyebrows furrowed.

  “Something up with work?” I asked, wiping off the counter.

  “No. It’s a text from my mom. She wants me to come to Arizona and meet my family.”

  The next day, Friday evening, Jake, Roberto, and I boarded a plane for Arizona to go see his mom. Rob had never been on an airplane before, so he chattered away, asking all kinds of questions about planes and the airport, because he was so excited. I was grateful to Jake for answering all of his questions.

  He always seemed to have patience for Rob and genuinely paid attention to him. Sometimes I didn’t do that. But I wanted to not think about the things I did wrong as a mom. I wanted to think about the things I did right.

  Since I had custody, I could take my son wherever I wanted, but I sent Carlos a text about what we were doing, just to be courteous.

  I didn’t receive a courteous reply.

  Nevertheless, it was an adventure for all of us, not just for Rob as his first trip on a plane, but also for me as a trip to learn more about Jake, and for Jake because his mom had been vague on the details for the reasons that he needed to come. He figured it had something to do with money. She had told him that she needed to see him immediately, that he had to sign some papers related to his grandparents, and that she wanted him to meet his brother and sister.

  A not-so minor detail.

  His half-brother Shawn, twenty-one, and half-sister, Veronika, nineteen, were part of his mom’s new family. Apparently, after Jake’s mom left him and his dad, she went back to her pedigreed parents, then met a wealthy new man, a plastic surgeon, and started a family in Phoenix.

  Jake had never met them. I couldn’t believe that he had a brother, sister, and stepdad that he’d never met. It blew my mind. What kind of mother never saw her child? Never had her son meet her other children? Well, since he’d never met his grandparents, I guess that it wasn’t surprising. He told me that he saw his mom on rare occasions, having invited her to his graduations, but she’d never brought his half-brother and sister along. I mentally shook my head.