I saw myself in a school. I saw myself learning new things, and living in a new place, with new people. I felt security, and strength. I saw myself happy, and with kids. With the girl of my dreams. I didn’t see these things happening soon, and there are people who have spent their lives ready to give the baby we made, a life we never could.
We thought Timothy and Nancy were those people because they showed us what we wanted to see. They showed us the future we wanted with him. The security, the promise of unconditional love and their ability to provide for him, has assured us we were making the right decision, and putting him in the right hands. We were wrong.
I stand outside of their home, the home that I pictured my son spending the next eighteen years, wondering how we could’ve been so wrong about this. This picture-perfect couple, who promised our son a life we couldn’t provide, backed out just as we were confident in our decision.
The irony.
The door opens, and I feel my shoulders stiffening as he steps outside of his home. Timothy is oblivious to my presence as he turns to lock the door behind him, and I stand there, unable to move or speak. I’m torn between feeling angry and exhaustion, as yet another sleepless night keeps me from feeling sane.
He sees me and nearly drops the coffee he has, as if he couldn’t fathom me coming to see him after he just ruined our plans.
“Blake,” he says, his voice shaken. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
I manage a meaningless smile. “I guess we’re both in for some surprises today.”
His face falls slightly as he checks his wristwatch and looks back to me. “There’s a coffee shop by my work, a few minutes outside of Harrison. Do you have a minute to join me there?”
I stare for a moment, questioning whether this was worth my time. I could’ve stayed with Audrey, who was still upset when I left this morning. Yet I came here, ready to demand answers from someone who has already proven to be a liar.
“Fine.”
I get in my car without word and wait for him to get into his own. I’m tempted to run into the side of his stupid expensive car and drive over his stupid manicured lawn and break the ugly bird bath in the middle just to spite him.
I follow him to the coffee shop.
“I would’ve contacted you myself, but Nancy insisted on taking care of all of this herself,” he explains as we take a seat, him with a scone and a cappuccino, and myself with a black coffee. I feel nauseated looking at it and push it away.
“She left a voicemail on my girlfriend’s parents’ phone,” I tell him. “If that’s what she means by taking care of it, then sure. She was pretty blunt.”
He shuts his eyes, sighing lowly. “I’m so sorry.”
“Do you usually do this?” I find myself asking. “Are you in some cult? Do you make people think you’re going to adopt their kids before changing your minds to stop them?”
“Blake—”
“Because from the sound of it, Nancy canceled on us like we were a fucking dentist appointment and not the people who were going to trust with the baby they made,” I say, loud enough that the entire coffee shop can hear. “Most people have the decency to wait for a person to pick up, or at least, god forbid, come by and explain yourself.”
“Blake—”
“Do you have any idea how hard this was for us to trust you? How hard it was for us to cope with the idea of putting our baby up for adoption, and as soon as you have our trust you just throw it out the window.” I stop myself, on the edge of hyperventilating. I feel a hand on my shoulder as I bury my face in my hands, trying to calm enough to breathe evenly.
“I’m sorry, Blake,” I hear him say. “I can’t imagine how difficult this was for you. If it were up to me, I would take the baby myself, but I know that isn’t how this works.”
“Then why aren’t you?” I asked, lowering my hands to look at him incredulously.
Tim purses his lips, dropping his eyes to his coffee. “Well, seeing as Nancy and I aren’t a couple anymore, it won’t be necessary.”
I shake my head. “You… what? I thought you guys were happy, you seemed so normal and—”
“I thought we were too,” he agrees, nodding. He sips from his coffee and shrugs. “And no couple is ‘normal,’ but I certainly thought we weren’t as unusual as some.”
I shake my head, feeling myself becoming irritated again. “Then what happened?”
He purses his lips. “Well, Nancy is pregnant.”
My eyebrows draw together in confusion. “You said you couldn’t—”
“I can’t.” His lips tighten as the realization dawns on me, and suddenly I can understand Timothy better than I did before. “I don’t think I’ll ever really understand why she did it, but in the end, I think it’s for the best that the baby didn’t end up in our hands, Blake.”
My gaze drops to my coffee, unable to come up with a response.
“Although, I have to apologize to you for not doing this sooner. I started suspecting sometime in September she was having an affair, but she was so busy with the baby plans. Getting the house ready, buying all these things and decorating the nursery. To be honest, so was I,” he says softly. I meet his eyes and have to look away, seeking the disappointment in his eyes. “I let it go, thinking she was just keeping herself busy. We just wanted this baby so bad.”
“Did she tell you?” I ask.
He shakes his head, eyes drifting off. “No. I found the sonogram, she had put it in one of those noodle boxes. I guess she thought I’d never make spaghetti, but ironically I was in the middle of surprising her with dinner when I found it.”
“That’s… shitty.”
He nods. “I think she would’ve played it off like it was mine if I didn’t catch her. But, we can’t pretend, not with another life in the picture.” His eyes flick to mine, concern etched on his face. “I’ve been pretty consumed in all of this that I haven’t tried to ask you about it. Are you still going to go through with the adoption?”
I shake my head. “We have another couple from Buckley we met a few weeks ago. We wanted to be prepared in case this didn’t work out.”
He nods. “Smart.”
“Well, we could never be sure about you guys,” I admitted. “We didn’t think you’d split. But something told us we needed to be prepared.”
Chapter 36
November 1st, 2012
1:00 p.m.
I am simple.
Boring.
I go to school. I try to get all A's, and then I try to get all Bs, but I don't let my grades drop any lower than that because I think I might want to go to college.
I sell video games, and my best friend is a guy who thinks it's funny to stick fries in his nose. He's got a carefree attitude like Benjamin, but his concerns about me are as genuine as my brothers are.
I fell in love this year. Twice, actually. It was unexpected, although I can't claim that I have any regrets. Love is sort of fucked up—it drives me insane, but I think there's something that makes it worthwhile.
The two people we trusted our world with were not bad. Their intentions were never malevolent, never detrimental, and they are not baby mongers. They knew we were battling this decision, but they were patient. They never pushed us to make a permanent decision, yet we were determined to believe there was something wrong with them. Most of our problems were in our heads… until they weren't.
I feel the softness of her palm pressing against mine, her fingernails digging into the skin above my knuckles.
"Have you gone insane?"
I stare down at the wooden table, my teeth digging into the flesh under my bottom lip.
It's all so familiar.
Like we're back to where we started. Reeky Ficus trees and angry glares, no one actually paying us any attention. But this time there's another woman here who seems to be the only rational one.
"She's keeping the baby." John Sawyer's temper shines through his dark eyes. He sends his wife an angry look I don't really understand.
/>
I stare down at the table, mentally tracing the grooves in the wood. I can feel Audrey's fingernails digging into my skin, but I don't think she realizes it.
If I close my eyes for a minute, I think I'm back at the place where we first met. Everything was so easy. I didn't really have anything to worry about then, but I also didn't have much to fight for either.
"Will you stop jumping to this conclusion? They don't have to keep the baby just because you think they have no other choice. Don't let anyone fool you, Audrey. Not all people are the same."
"You think this is—"
If I close my eyes for a minute, I think I can tune everything out.
"Has anyone even asked Blake or Audrey if they want to keep the baby?" That's my mother, the woman I spend too much energy underestimating and underappreciating.
Audrey's fingernails dig a little deeper.
"Will you stop acting as if I'm to blame for all of this?" Melissa yells. "You had just as much of a right to be there for them as I did, but you chose not to be a part of it. You didn't involve yourself, you didn't step up to the plate and offer to help anyone, you sat back and watched—"
"And you deserve a gold medal?" John argues. "For pretending as if they had a choice?"
"I never made them feel like they didn't have a choice."
"You never made them feel like they did—"
"You weren't there, how would you know?!" Her scream cuts through me. "I told Audrey. I told her all the time she didn't have to do this!"
It's like watching a tennis match. They snap at each other, back and forth, back and forth, so fast it's making my head spin.
"What do you think you're accomplishing with this? Give the kids a chance to speak," my mom says.
Three sets of eyes turn to two. Audrey lets out a small noise and releases my hand, and without it, I feel lost. Like someone just handed me a cello and asked me to play a song, but I don't even know where to start.
Everything is so quiet, and I think if I listen hard enough I can hear the erratic thumps of my son's heartbeat. It's so quick, and I know I'm not really hearing it; that's impossible, but this isn't.
Life can change so fast.
One second, I was just this broody kid with hair that shielded too much of my face, wondering where my brother was. The next, I was falling in love with a smile, unlike anything I'd ever seen before. Eyes that shined with life, a gorgeous face and a mind that I still can't figure out to this day.
If I did, I would stop thinking so much. I would stop asking myself questions, and I would be asking her instead.
"They don't know what they want," John tells his wife. "They can't even talk to each other, Melissa. Look at them."
There's this moment before I lift my eyes when I think I can make all of this easier. We can stop doubting, we can stop talking about what ifs and what do you wants. It's not just what's best for him, or her, or me. It's about what we can and can't live without, and I know what that might be. And when I finally look at Audrey, I think she knows too.
Instead, I buckle out of my chair and trudge over to the Sawyer's front door.
"That right there … that would be a boy." Doctor Holden points to the screen smiling.
I lean closer, curious about the other life. Everything is all fuzzy—like channel three. Melissa does the same, inspecting the screen, and I wonder if Audrey's thinking the same thing. I turn back to her and feel my face fall. She stares at the ceiling, her eyes lining with tears.
"Well," Melissa says. Audrey's eyes snap to me and she smiles. "A healthy baby boy. That's good news."
I slide into the driver's seat and slam the car door closed. Raindrops fall from my hair and slide down my neck, soaking into my T-shirt. I breathe harder; my lungs feel so weighted that I think they’re going to collapse.
My eyes fall shut as I rest my forehead against the steering wheel. And for this miniscule, blissful moment, I'm not thinking of all the things I could have said, or when I should have listened to my mother, or how fucking ridiculous it is that everyone can't be happy. I'm not even thinking about Audrey. I'm just counting the raindrops, and it's simple.
Boring.
*
If you spin a coin, you can watch it go on forever. You can watch it spin, spin, spin, and just when you think it's going to fall—it keeps spinning. It'll go around and around a single circle, over and over again—forever. Until the coin starts to leave the circle, and its fluency breaks. And even when the coin leaves its circle, it keeps spinning… until it doesn't.
I jump at the feeling of fingers smoothing over mine. My eyes snap open and my body jolts with surprise when I look toward the passenger seat and see the girl who's making me spin.
"Hi," she whispers, pulling my hand into her lap. "I'm sorry."
I'm sorry about a lot of things.
“Are you sure?”
I'm not doubting anymore because I know the truth. And I'm not spinning, spinning, anymore; it all just falls into place.
She nods. “I’m sure.”
Chapter 37
November 22nd, 2012
You can spend weeks, months, years contemplating the most important decision of your life. You can fear every outcome, dread every possibility, worry, worry, and worry some more.
Nothing can possibly prepare you for the moment when it happens. There's this moment when I think I finally have it all figured out, and then my decisions come to life, and I doubt everything all over again.
My decision is born on a Thursday, Thanksgiving evening to be exact.
I don't know it's happening yet. I'm oblivious to anything going on outside the walls of my own home.
Chase is pissed that he can't beat me at Mortal Kombat. I told him once and I'll say it again, "You'll never destroy Johnny Cage."
"Douche." He throws his controller. It knocks me on the foot, and I chuck it back at his head.
The first time she calls, Chase has me in a chokehold on the living room floor.
I'm laughing too loudly to hear the sound of my phone buzzing away on the end table, and Hailee doesn't notice either because she's screaming at us to stop killing each other.
The second time she calls, my mom is yelling at the three of us.
She flicks Chase upside the head and tells him he's an idiot for almost killing his brother. Then she turns to me and says that I need to grow up.
I’m holding an ice pack to my neck when I tell her, "I’m a grown up.” And I ask her for a popsicle, which is around the same time that Audrey leaves me a voicemail.
Mom laughs. She hugs me and tells me to take out the garbage.
I miss two more calls when I'm taking out the trash. For some reason, I feel a little off as I'm stuffing garbage bags in the dumpster back in the alleyway behind my house. I don't know what it is, just that something feels out of place.
For once in my life, I brush the feeling to the side. I tell myself that I don't have any reason to worry. I'm the anxiety kid, Mr. FreakOutOverNothing.
Everything is okay, I tell myself, because it is.
Ironically, it's not. For once, I do have a reason to worry.
I don't know yet that Audrey is at the hospital and that the other life wants to come two weeks early. Not until my mom tells me to clean up the living room and I notice the light flashing on my phone.
All my life, I was sure I knew what panicking was. I mean, I experienced an almost-not-really-heart-attack at least five times in the last six months. Admittedly, I know a thing or two about anxiety.
Panicking:
It's when I pick up my phone to discover that I've missed six calls from Audrey and two from her mother and it feels as if my heart has stopped completely. My chest gets a warm and tight sensation, and I can't breathe because I know that in just a few short hours, everything will change.
It's when I'm halfway to the hospital and Chase makes me pull over so that he can drive the rest of the way because he thinks I'm going to get us killed. I don't want to die yet, so
I let him take the wheel.
"Hey bro, you have to relax." He puts his hand on my shoulder, and I nod. I shake my head. I nod again.
My life is sort of spinning away, right before my eyes. One second, I'm freaking out in the car, the next I'm at Audrey's side, and everything stands still.
"Blake!" she cries out, but she's laughing for some reason. Her face is flushed, eyes bright, and a brilliant smile spread across her face. "Holy cow, I didn't think you'd make it."
"It's Chase's fault," I blurt out, enveloping her in my arms. "What the hell happened?"
Audrey tells me that she was about to go HAM on a chocolate pie when her water broke.
"Did you at least get to eat the pie?" Is Chase's greatest concern.
Audrey shakes her head and purses her lips, seeming disappointed. "No."
John snorts, and I turn to see him rolling his eyes. "She tried."
Audrey shrugs, unashamed. "You'd try, too."
I laugh.
Before I understand what’s happening, I’m alone with Audrey and she’s crying. She’s scared. She doesn’t know if she’s doing anything right, and I’m telling her over and over again that everything is fine.
“You’re so strong,” I whisper, and I can feel her shoulders tensing. “You amaze me every day.” She has another contraction, and I help her remember to breathe before I kiss the inside of her wrist.
Realizing that I don't know what to do is a whole different ordeal.
It's when she says:
"I can't do this."
"What if I do it wrong?"
"What if I accidentally kill him?"
I don't know where she comes up with this stuff, but I try to tell myself that it's going to be okay.
For three hours, anyway.
Until Audrey starts pushing, and then I start doubting.
Doubting:
It's watching the girl you smile for scream bloody murder as the other life rips its way through her.
It's glaring at her mother and wanting to rip her head off for convincing her daughter not to take the fucking epidural.
Lover of the Light Page 18