by Wendy Owens
“Sorry, sweetie, it’s a long story.”
“Can’t pull your lips away from your golden-haired hottie long enough to even call your best friend?”
I hesitate, unsure how to even respond. “Not exactly,” I say at last.
“All right, there’s something in your voice, so what’s going on? Did he hurt you? Because I swear to God, if he laid one—”
“No, no Kenzie, it’s nothing like that,” I reassure her. “So it is something, though?”
“I’m not at the inn anymore.”
“What?” she asks. “What happened?”
I can feel the tears building up in my eyes already, and when I speak, my voice immediately begins to break. “Oh God, Kenzie, I don’t know what in the hell I’m going to do.”
“Okay, calm down, everything’s going to be okay.”
And there they are, the tears, already flowing. “No, I swear, everything is not going to be okay.”
“You need to tell me what happened. Was it Holden? Did he get all stalker creepy on your ass or something?” Kenzie questions, but I can’t answer, trying to catch my breath through the crying. “You’re freaking me out here, honey. Do I need to kick some English tail?”
“No, it’s not Holden, he’s perfect. Well, except for the fact that he probably hates me now,” I explain.
“Girl, I have known you for a really long time, and I can’t think of a single person who has ever hated you. Hell, even Jack won’t leave me alone.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Jesus, he’s obsessed or something, calling me all the time, asking me where you are.”
I moan, sobbing even more violently. “Oh, Kenz, please don’t talk about him.”
“Seriously, what is going on?” she demands.
I pause. If there were anyone I was going to tell about my current situation, Kenzie would be it.
“Okay, but you have to keep this between us.”
“Are you freaking kidding me? Who in the hell am I going to tell?”
Swallowing hard, I attempt to catch my breath and steady myself. I close my eyes and say the words, “I’m pregnant.” The line is silent. I wonder if I actually said them out loud or only in my head. I repeat myself, “Kenz? Did you hear me? I’m pregnant.”
“Uh, yeah—I heard you,” she answers, stumbling over her words.
I twist uncomfortably in my seat as the silence begins to linger between us again. “Well, say something.”
“I didn’t know you and Holden were even doing it yet.”
“We’re not. I mean we weren’t, I—it’s Jack’s,” I explain.
“What!” Her tone says everything. In that one word she manages to express the pure and overwhelming panic I am feeling. I wasn’t insane for freaking out. This is clearly as big a bomb as I’d feared.
“I know ... what am I going to do?”
“Wait, slow down, how is this possible? Have you seen Jack at all?”
“No! The doctor says I’m about eleven weeks, which means I was a week or two along when he was screwing Brunhilda—or whatever the hell her name is.”
“How did you not know you were pregnant? Were you still having your rag or something?”
“No—I guess I didn’t think about it. I started puking and feeling shitty. Bea made the comment about being pregnant, and that was when I realized it had been three months since my last period.”
“What? Are you telling me you never put it together that you hadn’t been bleeding since you broke up with Jack?”
“Um yeah, not really helping right now, Kenzie. My life has been pretty messed up over the past few months, so I wasn’t exactly marking that kind of crap down on a calendar.”
“Sorry, you’re right. I’m just trying to process this.”
“I’m screwed,” I mutter.
“Wait, so Holden was pretty pissed about it? Is that why you left? I mean, wow, what a dick.”
“No, well, I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, ’you don’t know?’” “I sort of left without telling him.”
“You what?” Kenzie gasps.
“What was I supposed to do? Walk up and say, ’Hey Holden, I think you’re a great kisser, and it’s swell you think you’re falling for me, but would you mind raising my douche-bag ex-fiancé’s baby?’ Yeah, no thanks. Better he hates me for running out on him without an explanation than know the truth.”
“You should come home,” she suggests.
“I can’t; I’m not ready.”
“How can you not be ready? You’ve been gone forever!”
“I’m just not.”
“That realtor is hosting an open house on your condo this weekend. There’s going to be a lot going on here you can distract yourself with, and then I’ll be here to take care of you.”
“Ugh, and risk seeing Jack, no way.”
“Wait, what? You’re going to tell him, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I reply honestly.
“He’s a dick, but he is the father.”
“Yeah, you think I don’t know that? I just need to sort this out in my head first,” I say, but I know any attempt to explain where I’m at in my head is pointless since I’m not even making sense to myself.
“So what are you going to do?”
“For now? Stick to the plan. I’m in Edinburgh, and I’m going to go enjoy the sights and check out the places Arthur Conan Doyle talked about in his stories.
“So a bunch of boring stuff?”
“Whatever,” I huff.
“You can’t keep running from your problems, you know that, right?”
“Excuse me? Who am I talking to? It can’t be Kenzie, my nearest and dearest friend who has never actually made a mature decision in her life.”
“Hey chickie, that hurts.”
“Sorry, but I don’t think you should be preaching to me.”
“No preaching, just a polite prompting.”
“Please, just trust me; I’m going to figure this out.”
She sighs. “I do ... I know you will. I’m just worried about you.”
“Well, don’t. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay, promise you’re going to check in with me every few days,” Kenzie instructs me.
“I will,” I assure her. “I love you.”
“Love you, too,” Kenzie chirps, trying to disguise her concern.
No matter how much I try to convince her that things are going to be okay, I’m failing at convincing myself of this fact.
Chapter Nineteen
My stay in Edinburgh was much briefer than I’d originally anticipated. Everywhere I turned there were reminders of Holden. Something as simple as passing by a pub and catching a glimpse of a man sipping his beer made me think of him.
It’s quite infuriating, though I can’t help but wonder if he’s thinking of me as well. In my mind, I want him to forget about me, but in my heart I like to think I’m lingering in his thoughts. Our kisses, the way our bodies touched, or more than the physical, the way we connected.
My original itinerary for the entire trip has changed. The idea of visiting the stomping grounds of famous authors has lost its appeal. Perhaps because that, too, somehow led my thoughts back to Holden. Now I’m only trying to survive. I’m thirteen weeks pregnant, alone, and I have no plan. Rather than thinking about my next step, I can’t get Holden out of my mind.
In choosing my next adventure, I decided to go to a place I always wanted to visit. Greece. It’s the birthplace of democracy and the Olympics, but for me, there is something else drawing me to this place.
When I was eleven, I found a magazine in my mom’s nightstand. It was one all about travel, and inside the pages were amazing pictures of the coastlines in Greece. There were beautiful women staring out at the water, couples walking hand in hand, and even pictures of children smiling. I can remember the incident like it was yesterday. My mother walked in, saw what I was doing, and simply said the words,
heaven on Earth, and then walked out. A rare insight into her thoughts that I wasn’t used to getting. She preferred to remain guarded.
Here I am, a place where one of the unhappiest women on the planet thought looked like bliss. If I can’t figure out my messed up life in a paradise like Greece, then I am clearly going about things all wrong.
It’s only been a day, and I’ve already found a quaint waterfront room to rent. It’s a bedroom inside of a home. The owner is an artist from New York who seems content with sharing her space and not her life. This is more than fine with me. Usually when people start sharing details of their lives, they will eventually want to know about yours. Right now my life is the last thing I want to talk about.
My room is up a spiral staircase—almost like a nest up in a tree. There’s a small bathroom and a door that opens to a balcony. The land curves around the harbor; outside of my balcony I can see the city sprawling from side to side on the other side of crystal blue water. The dwelling is built into the cliffside, the water licking at the rocks below.
This is one thing I can agree with my mother about: it’s paradise. A little piece of heaven on Earth. The problem is, I still find myself trapped inside my own personal hell.
I feel my phone buzzing in my pocket. Taking another sip of my coffee, I pull it out and peer at the screen. Kenzie’s duck face pose is staring back at me.
Swiping my finger across the screen, I try my best to not sound like I’m miserable when I say, “Hello.”
“Good morning, beautiful,” she chimes in a cheerful voice. I wince as a memory of Holden washes over me. I can still hear his deep and growling voice when he would say the same words to me. I close my eyes, composing myself for just a moment.
“Morning Kenz,” I answer.
“So how’s Greece?”
“Beautiful.” I keep my answer short and, though vague, honest.
“How are you feeling?”
“The morning sickness has seemed to fade over this past week.”
“Well, that’s good because it sounded pretty gnarly. Have you thought anymore about what you’re going to do with Jack and the baby?”
Her question hangs in the air between us. This is all I’ve thought about from the moment I found out I was pregnant, but I am still not any closer to making a decision.
“No,” I lie.
“Are you going to tell him?”
“You ask me that every time you call,” I say, trying to avoid answering.
“Because you need to make a decision.”
“Why? I have twenty-seven weeks to figure out what I’m going to do.”
“Anna!” she exclaims. “You can’t figure this out after you have the baby. You don’t have to go through this alone.”
“Oh, and I guess I should call Jack up and see if he wants to be my rock?” My voice is dripping with venom.
“I didn’t mean him,” she begins. “I’m here. Don’t you think it’s time to come home?”
“I’m running out of money, so I suppose I’ll be home soon enough.”
“That reminds me ... I sold the bedroom suite finally.”
“That’s awesome. I could use it. How much?”
“A thousand dollars.”
“What?” I gasp. “I paid over six thousand dollars for that set.”
“You told me to get rid of it, no matter what. I tried to call you, but you didn’t answer. Are you pissed?”
I sigh. “No, no I’m not. I just want that thing gone. It was just a place Jack screwed other women, so what do I care.”
“Your realtor is annoyed.”
“About what?”
“She’s pretty nasty ... what isn’t she annoyed about?”
“Sorry, Kenz.”
“What are friends for?” she answers. “She’s been showing the hell out of the place. However, she doesn’t like that we’re selling the furniture. It doesn’t show well without it, according to her. I think her exact words were, ’This place is starting to show like a frat house.’”
“You really are a life saver for putting up with that for me. No offers yet?”
“Not yet, but she wants me to talk to you about lowering the price.”
“She knows what I need to get out of it, so tell her to do whatever she has to so it sells.”
The idea of ridding the burden of the place Jack and I used to share seems like one piece of the puzzle to fixing my life. In those walls we created a dream together. A dream that he trampled. But now with the baby, I am going to have to accept there are things I can’t wash away from my life. A piece of Jack is going to be with me forever.
“Are you sure about this?” Kenzie asks, breaking the silence.
“Sure about what?” I ask, my head spinning with the possibilities of what she might be referring to.
“Selling your life like this. This is everything you’ve worked for your entire life. Your home—I mean, are you sure you don’t want to raise your kid here?”
“I’m not sure about much, but I am damn sure I don’t want that place in my kid’s life.”
“I don’t want you to regret anything later.”
“And that’s why I love you,” I say sweetly. There are not many people in my life who truly only care about my happiness, but I’ve never doubted that Kenzie is one of them.
“Thanks girl. What are you going to do with yourself while in Greece?”
“Actually ...” I pause, afraid to say the words. If I say the words I might lose my courage to do what I’ve always dreamed of doing. “I want to write.”
“Write what?”
“A book.” I laugh.
“Oh my God, Anna! Are you serious?” The phone is nearly vibrating from her excitement.
“Yeah, I figure if I’m ever going to try, it should be now, before the baby comes,” I explain.
“I’m speechless ... I mean ...” Kenzie pants. “I don’t even know how to react to this. You were always the favorite of all our English professors. Everyone wanted you to write. What’s the book about?”
“I’m still working that part out. How’s Ben?” I ask, the topic of me writing making me uncomfortable. It seems as though every time I’ve spoken to Kenzie, the tenseness of her relationship seems to be intensifying.
“Jesus, don’t ask.”
“Is it that bad?” I press.
“I should hop on a plane and fly to you. Find me some hottie to bring back home with me,” she snarls.
“You don’t mean that,” I argue.
“The hell I don’t,” she snaps.
Ben and Kenzie have been dating since sophomore year in college. He, unfortunately, is one of the ever-growing statistics of college grads who have been unable to find employment in their chosen field after school. He wants to design vehicles, but instead he’s fixing them in his dad’s shop. As far as Ben is concerned, their relationship will have to stay as it is until he can provide her with the life he feels she deserves. I’ve always thought it was a sweet sentiment, but Kenzie quickly grew tired of a relationship stuck in neutral.
“He loves you,” I offer in a soft voice.
I hear her huff, not pleased about my opinion not aligning with her own. “Sometimes love isn’t enough. Look at you and Jack.”
“Ouch,” I say, clutching at my chest.
“Well, it’s true. Look how much you loved him, and you two couldn’t figure things out.” Figure things out? I want to shout at the top of my lungs. I want to reach through the phone and wildly shake some sense into her. Ben is living with his parents, saving every cent he possibly can so that he can buy her the engagement ring he feels she deserves. It’s frustrating to me she can’t see what she has in her life.
“There’s a big difference; no matter how much I loved Jack, he didn’t love me.”
“He sure claims to. He won’t leave me alone, trying to find out where you are.”
I roll my eyes. The idea of Jack loving anyone but himself is something I’m now far too wise to accept. “He wants
to know where I am because he’s like a child who had a toy taken away. He only wants what he can’t have.”
“You’re going to have to talk to him soon. I’m not sure how much longer I can stall him,” Kenzie reiterates.
I know I’ve put my friend in an awkward position, and I feel terrible for that, but I’m still in no state of mind to face Jack. He was my entire world for most of my young adult life. He was the one who guided my decisions and molded my thoughts about what I wanted in life. In these recent months, removing him from the equation has left me questioning those desires. If Jack had never entered my life, would I have pursued a different avenue? He was the one who told me authors couldn’t make a decent living, and a career in the publishing industry was much more practical. There’s a weight on my chest. I have trouble breathing. My body stiffens, and I feel the panic rush over me. I’m living a life that isn’t my own, and I have no clue how to claim the one I want. “Soon,” I assure her. “I’ll call him soon.” “I hope so—” I cut her off; I can’t go around in these circles anymore. I can’t think about Jack. “I need to go, sweetie.”
“What? We just got on the phone.” Her tone is high-pitched and pleading.
“I’m sorry, but I promised to go to lunch with some people I met here,” I lie. I know if she discovers I want to hang up just to be alone, she’ll never let me go.
“Oh.” I can tell my proclamation surprises her. “Any cute guys?”
“Goodbye, Kenz.” I laugh.
“Bye.”
Chapter Twenty
I stare at the blank sheet of paper in front of me. I sharpen my already sharp pencil even further. I think about that laptop Holden had given me, and part of me wishes I had it now. I’m about to do it. I’m going to write a book. I have no clue what it’s going to be about, but I’m going to write it nonetheless.
I take a sip of the orange juice sitting on the table. Part of pregnancy has meant learning about all kinds of new taste buds. I’ve never been much of a citrus lover, but now I can’t seem to get enough orange juice. I can drink it by the gallon. I peer out the double doors, the salty sea breeze smacking me in the face. I’ve known about the life growing inside me for four weeks, and it hasn’t made it any more real. The woman who owns the room I’m staying in hasn’t noticed yet that my stomach is beginning to grow. I’m not sure she is the type who would say anything even if she did. She smiles a lot. I like it here. I wish I smiled as much as her, finding joy in the simple like she seems to.