A week later, Lizzie stood in her kitchen. Definitely pregnant. Nine weeks along, her doctor had said. Lizzie figured it was the night in her backyard. Her last night with him.
Her baby started life just as the father ended his.
Lizzie slammed the door, then got a paper towel to stop the tears from completely ruining her makeup.
When the doorbell rang, she took a deep breath, then put a smile on her face as she went to answer the door. Lizzie had been able to get out of Christmas dinner with her friends but New Year’s Eve . . . no. Especially when she’d be the host. Something she’d taken on before Tom’s death. Gwen had offered to have it at her place instead, but Lizzie could do this . . . she hoped.
Her smile got a little brighter when she heard Ollie teasing Gwen on the other side of the door. Though she’d pretty much stayed away from everyone the past month, she did miss them.
Opening the door, she was greeted by Gwen and Ollie . . . and Marc. He smiled tentatively at her as she stood in the doorway staring at him. She hadn’t seen or spoken to him since Tom’s funeral. Even there not many words had passed between them. He’d been her shadow though. He stood on her right as they lowered Tom’s casket into the ground. She’d taken his hand as he silently cried along with her.
But after that day—nothing.
She figured he was coping in his own way and left it be—though she made sure that Ollie and Gwen checked in on him . . . like they did her.
“You gonna stand there all day?” Ollie remarked, pulling her out of her thoughts.
“Sorry,” she said, stepping aside to let her friends in. As they took off their coats, Lizzie shut the door and hung back.
“Feeling better?” Gwen asked, giving her a hug.
“Tired,” she answered honestly.
“I told you I could’ve hosted this,” Gwen shot back.
“I know, but I wanted to do this. It gave me something to do.”
“Well,” Ollie said, kissing her cheek, “Don’t overdo it.”
“I won’t,” she promised.
“Where do you want all this?” he asked, looking down at the cases of beer and bags of food.
“Fit as much beer as you can in the fridge. Put the rest out on the porch. Food on the dining table.”
“Got it.” Then he and Gwen were off, leaving her alone with Marc.
“Hi, Elizabeth.”
She shook her head, a small smile coming to her face. “You are the only one to call me that.”
He shrugged his shoulders and smiled his disarming smile. “You don’t like it?”
She liked it . . . a lot. Always had. Especially when he’d said it when they were in bed.
When she didn’t answer, his smile faded. “Lizzie.”
“I like it,” she admitted. “Just throws me off.”
“I don’t want to throw you off. So, let’s start over. Hi, El—Lizzie.”
She laughed and his smile returned. “El Lizzie?”
He stuck his tongue out at her. “Leave me alone. My mouth just wants to say ‘Elizabeth,’ and you know I don’t have the best control over that.”
“Whatever,” she said and stepped forward and slid her arms around his torso and hugged him. She’d surprised him. He hesitated a moment then he brought her closer, cocooning her in his embrace, her cheek against his rapidly beating heart.
The last time she’d been in his arms had been at Tom’s funeral. This right now was nothing like that. This felt good. So she stayed in that protective space. She may have sighed, she wasn’t entirely sure, but when his lips found the top of her head, she knew for sure she had.
Amazing what a hug could do. She felt the heavy clouds hovering over her dissipate.
Lizzie took a deep breath and released her hold on Marc. His hands slipped away and she felt the loss. Looking up, she smiled tentatively at his thoughtful face, then gestured towards the kitchen. “Come on.”
“Beer, Lizzie?” Ollie asked, holding up a bottle.
Shit! Hadn’t thought about that. She didn’t want to tell anyone about the baby yet, didn’t know what to think or do or how it would affect her future, especially since her motto had been “take it day by day.” Lizzie would tell people when she was ready—not one second before.
“No, thanks. That’ll just put me to sleep. But I will have one of these,” she said, nabbing one of Gwen’s famous chocolate chip cookies.
“I have a whole tin for you,” Gwen said, indicating the big container on top of her fridge.
“Well, thank you, but how the hell am I going to get to that?” Lizzie asked, pointing to the fridge then to her short ass self.
“Don’t worry,” Ollie said, “I’ll get it down before I leave.”
“Thanks, Ollie,” she said, thankful for tall friends, then the four went about setting up the food. They weren’t silent but certain topics weren’t touched.
The party was fun yet somewhat somber. People didn’t seem to want to get very drunk, which was fine. Lots of groups sitting around talking. No wildness—a departure from their usual parties.
Lizzie played host and found herself in the kitchen most of the night. A lot of her conversations consisted of “Hey Lizzie, how are you?” “I’m okay.” “Good. Happy New Year.” Then they scattered off. She was fine with that. She didn’t want to discuss Tom with them either.
With three minutes to midnight, the excited shouts came to gather around the television to watch the countdown to ring in the New Year. Lizzie held back and entered her living room as they began to count down.
10 . . . 9 . . . 8 . . . 7 . . . 6 . . . 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . .
“Happy New Year!” they all shouted. Then everyone paired off to ring the New Year in with a kiss. Everyone but her.
She couldn’t stand to watch it. She had to get out of there. Spinning around, Lizzie ran straight into Marc. Taking a deep breath to stop the threatening tears, Lizzie apologized and tried to sidestep him.
“Hey . . . Elizabeth, what’s wrong?” he asked, reaching out to wrap his hand around her arm.
Looking out at her empty kitchen, she blurted out, “I’ve got no one to kiss,” she said quietly, the words killing her to say.
“Me either,” he responded.
She sniffed at her tears and turned at the sadness in his voice. The problem with her height was that the first thing she normally saw were lips. Her eyes locked on them as she took two steps towards him. His hand that had been on her forearm moved up to her bicep then to her shoulder. Her gaze left his lips and to his unsure eyes.
She could kiss him right now. There was a part of her that wanted it and pushed her forward, resting her hands on his chest. But there was the part of her that just couldn’t . . . not yet. That was the part that won.
A tear escaped from her eye and down her cheek. “I’m not ready.”
Marc brushed the tear away with the soft pad of his thumb, her eyes fluttering shut at that sweet contact.
“It’s okay,” he said, his breath against her ear. She inhaled sharply when his lips pressed against her cheek. “Happy New Year, Elizabeth,” he said once he backed away.
Lizzie opened her eyes and replied. “Happy New Year, Marc.”
Lizzie
March 2010
The New Year saw new challenges from Parker . . . especially since she’d declined the move to San Francisco. He hadn’t been angry, though a little disappointed, but he seemed to understand. He’d given her time to grieve, and she took it—not traveling, just doing things around the office for local clients. Then about two weeks into the New Year, he’d stopped into her office and simply asked, “You ready?”
She was. The menial tasks she’d been doing were finally making her batty. She nodded at him.
“Okay,” was all he said and left her office. The next day he’d set up a meeting and started handing out assignments.
Big clients.
Huge.
All over the damn planet.
“You
sure you’re ready?” Parker had asked.
Lizzie looked up at him with big eyes, more excited than she’d been in months. “Oh yes!”
After that meeting, she was rarely home. Maybe a day or two here or there, but those days were filled with doctor appointments or errands of all the things she hadn’t done while gone.
The baby was growing quite nicely, and Lizzie, with each passing day, became more excited about having it. Tom’s child. A boy. She knew it. And it would look just like him. A mini-Tom.
At least that’s how she pictured it in her mind. Light blond hair, bright blue eyes, and an even brighter smile.
Her baby kept the tears at bay, but they came every now and again. Lizzie had more smiles than tears and she was thankful for that because there was a time she’d thought they’d never stop.
After her four-month doctor appointment which she was two weeks late for due to her travels, Lizzie called Parker to tell him she’d be taking the rest of the day off. Then she headed west to Geneva to see Tom’s mom.
Lizzie needed to let her know that she was going to be a grandma!
“This is an unexpected surprise. Come in,” Mrs. Myers said excitedly. She drew Lizzie into the living room where Lizzie shed her coat and sat down, rubbing her hands on her thighs. “What brings you all the way out here?”
“I . . . uh, had some news to share with you,” Lizzie said, pulling the extra ultrasound picture she’d asked her doctor for. She handed the black and white photo to Tom’s mom. “Here.”
“What’s this?” she asked, taking the picture. The moment she realized what was in her hand, tears spilled from her eyes. “You’re pregnant?”
“I am,” Lizzie answered, matching tears streaming down her face.
“With Tom’s baby?”
“Yeah,” she replied with a stuttered breath. “I’m eighteen weeks . . .”
Lizzie watched the grandmother of her unborn child as she figured out the date.
“Eighteen? That was in—”
“November. The night before he died. I’m sorry I’m just telling you. I wasn’t ready . . .”
“Oh, sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m not going to tell you how to grieve or how to move on. You have to do what’s best for you . . . and my grandbaby,” the older woman said, her face splitting into a wide grin. The hug she got surprised Lizzie, but she held on. It felt good that she could give Mrs. Myers this moment of happiness.
“I still can’t believe this, Elizabeth. I want you to know that I’ll be there for you . . . anything . . . everything you need. You understand?”
Lizzie nodded, thankful to have this wonderful woman in her life.
Lizzie
April 5, 2010
Lizzie was so over traveling. When she voiced her discontent to Parker, he laughed and told her to meet him at the San Fran office before she headed back to Chicago. He had a new challenge for her. So, she’d changed her flight to give her time to meet with him and she was so glad she did because what she got was his latest challenge—a promotion to Account Director!
Hell yes!
Her travel would be basically zero. She was all for that. She loved Parker and his challenges!
Now she just had to make it home, Lizzie thought, as she tried to get comfortable in the seat that just seemed to get smaller each time she got on the plane. It totally wasn’t because her stomach was growing at such a fast rate.
Definitely not, she laughed.
Twenty-two weeks. Over half way done. In four months, Lizzie could hold her little baby boy in her arms. And now that she was done traveling, Lizzie could get started on all the things one did when a baby was on the way. She’d done none of it except for the doctor part. Well, she had picked out the bedroom which would become the nursery. A step.
She’d be taking many steps in the next week. Mrs. Myers had called her the week before to let her know that she’d finally put Tom’s house up for sale and wanted Lizzie to stop by that weekend to pick out the things she wanted.
Lizzie wanted everything. Deciding what to keep would be hard. How could she throw out anything of his?
Another thing that would be hard . . . seeing her friends. She hadn’t seen them because of work . . . but really that was code for being chicken. She hadn’t told anyone but Mrs. Myers and Parker about the baby. They’d probably hate her for not confiding in them. Maybe she should have but getting the words “I’m pregnant” out of her mouth was difficult. And each time she spoke to Gwen or Ollie, or especially Marc, and didn’t say anything, the guilt added up. Nothing she could do about that now except apologize and hope they’d understand.
Finally in the limo, she settled in for the ride home, when her cell phone rang. She debated not answering it, but did anyway.
“This is Lizzie.”
“Hi, Elizabeth,” the masculine voice spoke into her ear.
“Marc?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“How are you?” she asked, wondering if he somehow knew she’d just had him on her mind.
“I’m doing all right. How about you? Anything new?” he asked, her ears perking up at the inflection. She didn’t know what that meant but was pretty sure she’d find out.
“I’m good, but tired. I just got back from San Francisco.”
“You’re a workhorse,” he stated and she could picture the smile she heard in his voice on his face.
“I’m Irish. What do you expect?”
His laughter was good to hear. And if Lizzie was being honest with herself, she missed it. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“I wonder sometimes too. But life’s changing,” she began.
“How so?”
“I got a promotion!” she exclaimed, her excitement bubbling into her tone.
“Does that mean more travel?”
“Ha! No. The opposite,” she said, probably happier about this fact of her new job than the title and new salary combined. She was ready to nest.
“Nice,” he said, “Speaking of life changing, I got a call from Mrs. Myers today.”
“Oh, yeah? What did she want?”
“Told me that Tom’s place is on the market and asked if I could help her with moving some of Tom’s things.”
Even though she knew about Mrs. Myers’ plans, her mood saddened. It was becoming more and more official. That part of her life with Tom was over.
“Lizzie?” Marc inquired, when she didn’t speak.
“Sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry. That’s one reason why I called—to make sure you were all right. This is a big step . . . like a whole flight of them.”
Wasn’t that ever the truth?
“The whole thing sucks, but I’m dealing with it as best I can,” she admitted.
“How’s that working for you?”
A chuckle escaped at his quick question—so like Marc. “Pretty well.”
“I’m glad,” he said. She heard the smile in his voice. She missed talking to him. He was always so easy to speak to. “Though surprised after finding out that you’re pregnant.”
Oh, shit!
“Wow!” she said. “That came out of left field.”
“Yeah, that’s how I felt when I found out. Lizzie, it’s been over four months . . .”
She cringed. Totally handled this all wrong. But at least the bird was out of the cage . . . and her guilt at keeping it in there could finally go away. “I know. I know. I needed the time, Marc. That’s the only explanation I have for you and everyone else.”
“Hey, I need no explanation about that. You had your reasons. But what I do need is a chance to see you. What do you say?”
This conversation had shown her just how much she’d missed her friends . . . for four months. Life changing news. She needed to do better.
Starting now.
“I’d like that.”
“How ‘bout dinner sometime?” he asked hopefully.
The baby decided at that moment to remind her that she hadn’t eaten a ful
l meal since dinner the night before. She was starving! “Sometime meaning tonight? Because I’m light-headed with hunger . . .”
He chuckled. “If you want, I could pick up . . .”
“A large BBQ chicken pizza and an order of breadsticks?”
“ . . . a large BBQ chicken pizza and some breadsticks and meet you tonight at your place for dinner.”
“That sounds divine.”
She heard his deep chuckle over the line and smiled. “Okay then. I’ll see you shortly. Bye Elizabeth.”
“Bye.”
Marc
Marc felt a wave of nervousness overtake his body as he sat in his car, looking at her house. The cause he didn’t know. This was just a casual dinner with an . . . ex-lover. He hadn’t been alone with her like this since before he left—two years ago. All the other times there’d been people around. Tonight . . . just her and him. And what she could pull out of him scared him.
But whatever she wanted he was determined to give her.
Space? He’d give it to her. Pizza? He’d be all over that. An almost kiss that he’d torture himself with for months? Sign him up.
He’d do anything for her.
With a nod, Marc grabbed the food and made his way to her front door. Maybe it was the noticeable lack of her in his life but lately he felt an overpowering need to have her back in it—in whatever way she’d have him. He meant that. Lover or friend, he’d take it. But first he must take the step to apologize to her and explain why he’d left. He just needed to find the right opportunity.
He almost walked in without knocking. It was second nature to him. For almost two years, he spent many of his evenings here with her. He’d even had a key . . . still had it, he thought, looking down at the keys in his hand.
After taking a deep, cleansing breath, Marc rapped his knuckles against the door’s window. He inhaled sharply upon hearing Lizzie making her way from upstairs. She opened the door with a smile, but hid behind the door for the longest time. Her face had a glow to it, despite the tired eyes it held.
“Hi,” she said, a bit of shyness inflecting her tone.
Losing You (Stars On Fire #4) Page 24