by Sage Rae
For the previous three months, they’d been more or less docked on the west coast, overseeing some of Carter’s new California projects. Meanwhile, two projects raced to the sky in New York, with another three in Austin, all under Carter’s name. Winnie’s pride in his creative vision was unbridled.
This night, Winnie was on her own. It was a windy evening in Los Angeles, and she sat on the balcony of a mansion in Santa Monica, closing the biggest record deal of her career. She was dressed in a yellow body suit, cinched tight at her waist, and her brown curls flowed wildly. In this outfit, Carter had told her she looked every bit the California girl. But she’d told him she’d only ever be a Texan at heart.
“The album will be released by Christmas,” the producer told her, arching his brow. “I don’t suppose you and that billionaire boyfriend of yours will be too busy opening hotels across Europe, over spring, to promote the album? I have venues in France, Italy, Germany, hell, even Russia who’d die to see you play.”
Winnie’s heart leapt into her throat. After months of sitting in on meetings with Carter, she’d trained her face to remain firm, sure, never giving away the extent of her emotions. She had to remain quiet, cool. Couldn’t betray the fact that this was the greatest news of her career.
“I think we will definitely find the time,” she said. She shook the man’s greasy hands, then found a way to exit as soon as she could. The love of her life awaited her at home.
Only a half-hour later, she appeared in the doorway of her and Carter’s Venice apartment, just down the beach. As she entered, Carter slid a glittering steak onto a platter for her, grinning like mad as she explained the extent of the contract, and where this could feasibly take her as a singer-songwriter.
“It was just so easy. He said he saw me at the last Austin show and just knew, right away, that my album would be relatable to all kinds of people. All those years I was just writing songs in my room…” Winnie sighed.
Carter brought his hand to her cheek, drawing her closer to him. She inhaled his cologne, his musk, and closed her eyes. Her body rushed with desire. Since they’d gotten back together, they hadn’t gone a single day without sleeping side by side, without making love.
“But that’s not the only thing I have to tell you,” she whispered, her eyelashes fluttering.
“Ha. So there’s even more news?” Carter asked. He guided her out onto the balcony, where they could gaze out over the crashing waves of the Pacific.
Her fingers flickered to her stomach, as did her gaze.
“I have a bit more news,” she whispered. “Essentially, I don’t think I’ll be on tour very long this spring.”
“Why not?” Carter asked, his eyebrows furrowing. “I think you should make use of this time. It’s your first album, baby! The world has been waiting for you.”
“Yes, but…” She trailed off, biting at her bottom lip. She could feel that familiar blotchy red coloring on her cheeks, showing her fear and her excitement. With Carter, her face struggled to lie. “There’s something a little bit more important than that. Even more important than the buildings you’re drawing up in Paris and Rome and Berlin. Even more…”
Carter’s eyes scanned her body, finding her fingers along her belly. His eyes glittered with light. “You aren’t saying…” he began.
But Winnie nodded, her face breaking into the widest grin. “I’m pregnant.”
Immediately, Carter’s arms wrapped around her. He lifted her into him, spinning her lightly, before dropping her back on her toes. Tears sprung up for both of them. They couldn’t communicate their joy with words: only laughs, shrieks, weeping.
“Winnie, baby,” Carter murmured, hugging her into him once more. “I don’t… I don’t fucking know what to say.”
Winnie chuckled. “Back on the farm, all I had were dreams. I was just a little virgin, wanting to see the world. And now…”
“We’ll see every inch of it. And you’ll sing for every continent. But best of all, you’ll sing for our baby.”
The two of them stood on their balcony, watching the sun burn into the ocean. It cast orange and pinks and reds across the waves, as the water flashed toward the beach. Winnie’s brain raced with a million possibilities. Boy or girl (or twins—like their father and uncle!)? Where would they raise this child—east coast? West coast? Somewhere in Texas? And would he have his father’s artistic brain, or Winnie’s more wild, emotional one?
Carter dotted another kiss onto Winnie’s forehead: a reminder that he was there, despite her racing thoughts and dreams. He was her calm in the storm. She’d taken the biggest risk in her life, forced herself to imagine another reality.
And somehow, everything she’d ever wanted had come true.
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