Grand Slam

by Tracie Delaney

  “Don’t be silly,” Nerissa said. “I’m lying. You know how I love to nag.”

  “Yeah. I pity your grandmother.”

  “Don’t. Where do you think I got it from?”

  Tally laughed. The dizzy spell had passed, and she was feeling much better already, but that didn’t stop Nerissa continuing to fuss, nor did it remove the concerned looks on the faces of several of the refugees. A couple of them scooched behind the counter and began to serve ladles of stew into plastic bowls to keep the line moving. Tally gave them a grateful smile.

  Rhea had been gone about fifteen minutes when she returned with Clio in tow. Tally sat back and accepted her fate as Clio took her temperature, pulse, and blood pressure. Then she made Tally stand up and sit down. She asked questions until Tally was hoarse from answering.

  “Okay, let’s get you upstairs,” Clio said. “Bed rest for you, at least for a day or so.”

  “But the—”

  “I’ve got it,” Nerissa said, rubbing her arm. “You do as Clio says. I’ll come and see you when I close up later.”

  Bone-weary, Tally reluctantly agreed. She leaned on Clio as they negotiated the narrow staircase to her apartment above the café.

  Clio ordered her straight to bed. She disappeared into the kitchen and five minutes later returned, holding a cup of camomile tea. “Here, drink this. It should help you sleep.”

  Tally took a sip. “So what’s the verdict?”

  Clio met her gaze but didn’t speak. The longer Clio remained silent, the more worried Tally became. What if something was really wrong with her, like cancer? She’d assumed she’d caught a virus, something that would be gone in a few days, but the way Clio was staring shot her brain into overdrive.

  “Tally,” she said finally. “Is there a possibility you could be pregnant?”

  A sudden coldness hit her core, and her heart began to race. “No,” she croaked. “It’s not possible. Not possible at all.”

  “When was your last period?”

  Tally frowned, counting back the days, weeks. “I-I can’t remember. I’ve been so busy.”

  “When did you last have sex?”

  “Ages ago. My boyfriend and I split up in October, and there hasn’t been anyone else. Surely if I was pregnant, I’d have had signs. Morning sickness or something. But I haven’t. I’m just tired.”

  “Why don’t I pop down to the pharmacy and pick up a pregnancy test kit.”

  Tally opened her mouth to protest.

  “Just to rule it out,” Clio added.

  Tally’s head flopped against the pillow. She didn’t have the energy to argue. “If you must.”

  Once Clio had left, Tally reached for her phone and opened the calendar. The last time she and Cash slept together was the Friday before he threw her out. The ninth of October. That was more than ten weeks earlier. She lifted her pyjama top and placed the palm of her hand on her abdomen. She’d never had a washboard stomach, but it certainly wasn’t any bigger than usual. If she was more than ten weeks pregnant, there’d be a sign, a bump. No, it was going to be fine. Clio was being thorough, that was all, systematically ruling things out until she identified the real reason for Tally’s illness, which was more than likely a winter bug. There were plenty of them going around this time of year.

  Clio returned after half an hour, clutching a brown paper bag. Tally would take the test, but it was a waste of time. There was no chance of her being pregnant. She and Cash had always been extremely careful. Neither of them had been ready for the responsibilities of parenthood.

  “So how does this work, then?” Tally removed the white plastic stick from the box.

  “You pee on that part,” Clio said, her index finger pointing at the stick. “Nothing more complicated than that.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to wait until the morning?”

  “Old wives’ tale. Off you go.” Clio waved in the direction of the small bathroom situated off Tally’s bedroom.

  Tally was back a minute or so later and handed the stick to Clio. “How long do we have to wait?”

  Clio glanced at the instructions. “Two minutes.”

  “Great.” Tally paced back and forth. She didn’t know why she was so on edge. In two minutes, the test would show up as negative, and Clio would have to try to find another reason for why Tally felt so unwell.

  “Ready?” Clio said when the two minutes were up. She held the stick in Tally’s direction.

  “You do it.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yep.”

  Clio glanced down, her face giving nothing away. After a few seconds, she lifted her head, her steady gaze meeting Tally’s.

  “Merry Christmas, Tally. You’re going to be a mama.”

  10

  Tally stared at Clio as her jaw dropped. Pregnant? She couldn’t be. But Clio said she was. Unless Tally had peed on the stick wrong. Could you get the peeing-on-the-stick bit wrong? She didn’t know, but one thing was certain: she was going to freak.

  Having suffered panic attacks in the past, Tally recognised the signs—sweaty palms, heart palpitations, dizziness, nausea, and an overwhelming sense of being choked. Her hands clutched at her throat, and she began to pant.

  “Okay, Tally,” Clio said, gently tugging Tally’s hands away from her neck. “Take it easy. Slow breaths. In and out. In and out. Come on, breathe with me. Forget everything else.”

  It took a while, but after listening to Clio’s calm voice and her reassuring demeanour, Tally eventually calmed down. Her breathing returned to normal as the realisation swept over her that nothing was ever going to be normal again.

  “Are you sure?” she whispered, a tiny nibble of hope rippling to the surface.

  “We should get you properly checked out, but in my experience, these home tests are extremely reliable.”

  Tally thrust the heels of her hands into her eyes. “Oh God,” she muttered.

  “It’s not the end of the world,” Clio said.

  Of course it’s the end of the world. “Do you mind giving me some space? I need to sort my head out.”

  “No problem.” Clio began to walk out of the room, glancing back at the last minute. “I’ll arrange for a trip to Leros.”

  Tally frowned. “Why?”

  “You need to see a doctor. Get a scan and a blood test. We don’t have the correct facilities on the island to give you the proper prenatal care.”

  Fear congealed in Tally’s chest. She’d never thought about how difficult medical care would be on such a remote island. Why would she have?

  “So I’ll have to travel to Leros for everything, including the birth.”

  Clio nodded. “Yes.”

  “How long does it take to get there?”

  “Twenty minutes or so by ferry. I’ll let you know when your appointment is.”

  Clio gave her a warm smile and left. Once Tally was sure Clio was out of earshot, she turned on her side and wept. She wanted kids, of course she did. Someday. But not like this. Not when she was alone, emotionally scarred, barely able to take care of herself day-to-day.

  But this was Cash’s child.

  She curled her hands around her belly. She couldn’t abort Cash’s child. A part of him and a part of her. A precious life to be protected at all costs. She’d manage, somehow.

  God, she wished he were there.

  On impulse, she picked up her phone. She found his number and hit Dial. Her heart hammered in her chest as the phone began ringing out. With absolutely no idea what to say, she waited for him to answer. And waited. After eight rings, the call went to voicemail.

  “Hey, it’s Cash. Leave a message.”

  Same voicemail he’d always used. Same voice that made her stomach clench with need. She hung up, her mind running riot. What was he doing? Visiting his mum perhaps, or having dinner with Rupe. Or in bed with another woman.

  She winced. The thought of him with someone else… she closed her eyes, overwhelmed with the unexpected turn her life had
taken. There’d been too much change in too short a time, and her brain was struggling to process everything. She was exhausted, scared, and lonely. She and Cash were supposed to be together, to raise a family together, to grow old together. She missed him with every cell in her body and missed the wider family she had to give up when he’d kicked her out.

  Rachael, a perfect substitute for the mother she’d never had.

  Rupe, the best brother anyone could ever wish for.

  Anna, Brad, Jamie—the whole gang.

  How could she have this baby alone? The thought of giving birth on a strange island, miles from home, horrified her. What if she went into labour at a time when there weren’t any ferries? She was sure ferries from Safome were only once per day to neighbouring islands. Oh God, she could end up giving birth without any medical assistance.

  Her mouth flooded with saliva, and she made a dash for the bathroom. Once the retching stopped, she rinsed a flannel under cold water and dabbed her face. She squeezed some toothpaste onto her toothbrush and scrubbed her teeth to get rid of the gritty acid taste. She hated being sick, and maybe she’d be one of those pregnant women who wouldn’t suffer too badly.

  Exhausted, she staggered back to the bedroom and collapsed into bed. She needed to get a grip. She was young and healthy and wouldn’t be the first single mother in the world. Okay, it wasn’t exactly the dream route to motherhood, but she’d have to play the hand she’d been dealt.

  Tally lifted her head at a light tapping on the door. “Come in,” she said, pushing herself upright when Nerissa poked her head around the door.

  “Hey, how are you doing?”

  “I’m okay. Tired, but okay.”

  Nerissa perched on the edge of her bed. “What did Clio say?”

  Tally frowned. “She didn’t tell you?”

  “No.”

  Tally scrubbed her face. “I’m pregnant.”

  “Oh.”

  She could see Nerissa searching for the right thing to say. Taking pity on her friend, Tally squeezed her arm. “It’s okay. A bit of a shock, that’s all.”

  “That’s why you’ve been so tired?”

  “It seems so. Clio’s arranging for me to have a proper check-up on Leros.” She leaned over to the bedside cabinet and picked up the stick. “See for yourself.”

  Nerissa took it from her and stared at the blue vertical lines. “Could be wrong.”

  “Highly unlikely, according to Clio.”

  “So how do you feel?”

  “I don’t know. I need time to think.”

  “But you’re keeping it, yes?”

  Tally nodded, a small smile tweaking at her lips as Nerissa sighed in relief. “Good. Everything will be fine. We’ll all pitch in. That’s the beauty of this island. We’re like one big family.”

  “I don’t know whether I’m going to stay now.”

  Nerissa’s eyebrows shot up. “Whyever not?”

  “I’m not sure. Another decision I need to make, but none of them need to be made today.”

  “Have you told your ex?”

  Tally sighed softly. “I called earlier, but it went to voicemail. And even if he had answered, I’m not sure I would have told him.”

  “You need to tell him,” Nerissa stated firmly.

  “And I will. But not yet. I have to get my head around this before I completely blow his mind. I don’t want him to think I’m trying to trap him into us getting back together. He made his feelings about me perfectly clear.”

  “He has a right to know he’s going to be a daddy.”

  Tally nodded without committing to anything. Now wasn’t the time to make rash decisions. She rested a weary hand on Nerissa’s arm. “I’m really tired. Do you mind going?”

  “Not at all.” Nerissa rose from the bed, giving Tally a warm smile before disappearing.

  As the bedroom door clicked shut, Tally closed her eyes. Nerissa’s feet echoed on the wooden staircase before silence fell. She should call Em, but she didn’t have the energy to face the type of questions and demands her best friend would have. Em and Pete could wait for another day. Better to find out for sure that she was pregnant before scaring those she loved. She was scared enough for all of them.

  She must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew, her phone was ringing. Barely conscious, she couldn’t work out whether it was a call or her alarm. With her eyes still shut, she reached out and located her phone. She squinted at the screen and sat bolt upright.

  Cash was calling her.

  The phone slipped through her fingers and landed in her lap. Snatching at it, she managed to answer before the call was diverted to voicemail.

  “H-Hello,” she said tentatively.

  “I got a missed call from this number. Who is this?”

  Tally sucked in a breath. Hearing Cash’s voice after so long was like putting soothing lotion on a nasty burn. She closed her eyes as though that would somehow make it easier to speak.

  “Don’t mind me, love. I’ve got all fucking day,” he said, forthright as ever.

  “It’s Natalia.”

  Her hands shook as she was met with a stony silence.

  “Are you okay?” he finally said, although his tone held no warmth.

  “Yes. I-I’m sorry for calling.”

  “What do you want?”

  Tally flinched at his bluntness. “To hear your voice,” she said, her vision blurring with unshed tears.

  “There’s hundreds of videos on YouTube.”

  A flash of pain shot through her chest. “This was a mistake.” She pulled her phone away from her ear.

  “Wait! Don’t hang up. Are you still there?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “How are you?”

  “Good. I’m good.”

  “You changed your number.”

  She closed her eyes. “Yes.”

  “But you kept mine.”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t live on false hope, Natalia.”

  She fisted her hands into her pyjamas as another burst of pain shot through her. His coldness reaffirmed her decision not to tell him about the baby.

  “It’s late. I’m going now.”

  “Natalia?”

  “Yes.”

  A pause. “Take care of yourself.”

  11

  Cash ended the call. The ache in his heart at hearing Natalia’s voice caused a physical pain so sharp he found it difficult to breathe. He strode into the bathroom and swilled his face with cold water as he stared at himself in the mirror. He should have told her. Why didn’t he? What a fucking idiot. Prime opportunity to tell her everything—about the help he was getting to manage the anger caused by his head injury and the fact that he’d begun playing tennis again, albeit poorly. And he could have explained why he’d pushed her away.

  Shit, he’d thought he was making progress. And yet his response to hearing her voice had been fear that if he told her he wasn’t fixed—that he might never be fixed—all hope that they stood a chance would disappear.

  He lashed out, his arm sweeping everything off the bathroom shelf. Glass bottles shattered, the contents spilling over the floor.

  “Fuck.” His left hand slammed into the mirror. It splintered into several large pieces. He glanced down. His hand was covered in blood, and a two-inch shard of glass was embedded in the flesh. He gritted his teeth and pulled it out, causing blood to splatter into the sink. He wrapped his hand in a face cloth, but after ten minutes, when the bleeding hadn’t stopped, he picked his way through the broken glass on the bathroom floor and called for help.

  Half an hour later, the on-call nurse had stitched and bandaged his hand, and the maintenance guy had cleared up and replaced the mirror. Cash certainly couldn’t fault the service, although considering he was paying far more than a five-star hotel would cost, it was nothing less than he should expect.

  Alone in the dark, Cash closed his eyes and allowed himself to think about the conversation with Natalia. She’d cal
led him. That had to mean she missed him—that she wasn’t over him—although after his cold response, she wouldn’t be calling again. He wanted so badly to see her, be with her, touch her. But the fact that he had four stitches in his hand and an urgent need to visit a pharmacy to replace all his stuff was a red flag. He didn’t have this anger shit anywhere near under control. Definitely not enough to consider begging Natalia to take him back.

  Hit with an overwhelming urge to hear her voice once more, he picked up his phone and almost dialled. Almost. Mustering every ounce of willpower, he switched off his phone and tossed it into a drawer. No doubt, he’d be made to examine every single detail of the last couple of hours at his next appointment with Bauer, who would scribble notes in his pad, sagely nod in all the right places, and tell Cash he was making progress.

  What utter bollocks. He wasn’t making any fucking progress.

  His hand throbbed, and he threw back a couple of ibuprofen and climbed into bed. He craved the oblivion of sleep after the disastrous call with Natalia. No such luck on this night, though. He was still awake when dawn arrived. He crawled out of bed and drew back the curtains. It was raining again. It rained a lot in Northern Ireland, but Germany wasn’t too far behind.

  “Merry fucking Christmas,” he muttered.

  He glanced at his watch. Rupe and Mum would be arriving in a few hours. Despite his reticence, they’d insisted on spending the next couple of days with him. When he refused to return home for the holidays, he’d wrongly assumed they’d relent and leave him alone. Instead, his mum had got all excited about visiting Germany. Not the response he’d hoped for at all.

  He made a protein shake and took it with him to the gym. To give himself a chance of getting through the day, he’d need to exhaust his body and hope his mind would follow suit. He loved his mum more than the world, and Rupe had been his best friend and wingman forever, but he could have done without their untimely visit. Rupe had made it clear he thought Cash was punishing himself by separating from everyone and everything he held dear and living in a kind of purgatory. Cash didn’t disagree.

  Ninety minutes later, he staggered into his apartment. Every muscle ached, and his damp shirt clung to his body, but he felt calmer than he had in several weeks. Job done. He showered, changed, and settled on the couch to read. The author had also written the book Cash had read to Natalia during their holiday to the Maldives. The memory of Natalia curled into his side on a white, sandy beach while he read aloud made his heart clench.