The Miracle Baby Box Set: Volume One: Books 1 - 4

by Hamel, B. B.

  I could start thinking about leaving Weston. I probably should. I guess there are jobs I could take in the league, maybe coaching at a high school somewhere or something like that, but I suddenly don’t want to leave town just yet. I hate living with my father, but I’m just starting to rekindle my friendship with Addie.

  And there’s Addie’s little girl, too. She keeps bugging me, a weird little buzz in the back of my mind. I should just let it go but I can’t stop picturing her. She seems so familiar, and I did notice that Addie didn’t tell me who the father is.

  I stop in the forest at the head of the trail toward my house, and I look up at the trees. I can’t imagine that little girl is my daughter. Addie wouldn’t get pregnant and not tell me about it, right?

  But that face, and the way Addie seemed so vague… it’s bothering me. I have to find out more before I even think about going anywhere else.

  7

  Addie

  “You really don’t need to meddle, you know.”

  Eleanor smiles at me over her cup of coffee. It’s a beautiful morning and Cara is playing in the grass twenty feet away, a bunch of her dolls spread out around her in the dirt. I’m sitting on the front porch on a rocking chair, sipping my own coffee, and thinking about my walk with Will.

  “I don’t have to, but I like to,” Eleanor says.

  I sigh. “Really, I know what you’re doing.”

  “Do you?” She gives me a little smile. “I thought I was just reuniting two old friends.”

  “Cut it out. You know it’s not that simple.”

  “I don’t?”

  Her questions are driving me insane. “El,” I say.

  “Addie.” She grins at me.

  I sigh. “Look, do I really have to say it? All this time, and you haven’t made me say it.”

  “Honey,” she says softly. “I respect your right to privacy, I really do. But you’ve kept it from me for so long.”

  “I know.” I look away from her. “I just… I don’t want you to be ashamed of me.”

  “Ashamed?” She sounds genuinely surprised. “What makes you think I’d be ashamed of you?”

  “I got pregnant young and without a husband.”

  “So what? You were told you’d never have a baby, so I doubt you were using protection.”

  I wince and blush at the same time. “Please don’t say that word.”

  “What? ‘Protection?’”

  I wince again. “Yes.”

  “Addie, grow up. You’re a mother now.”

  “I know. It’s just weird coming from you.”

  Eleanor’s silent for a minute and I think the conversations over when she speaks up again.

  “I was younger than you are when I got pregnant the first time,” she says softly.

  I turn and stare at her. “You don’t have any kids,” I say.

  She looks at me with a sad smile. “I got pregnant three times in my life, and each time I had a miscarriage.”

  My eyes go wide. “Oh my god. El, I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay, honey. It was a long time ago.”

  “That’s so awful.”

  She sighs. “The first time wasn’t so bad. I wasn’t ready.” She smiles a little wistfully, sipping her drink. “I slept with the neighbor, this boy named Alvin. He was dumb as nails but he had the strongest arms I’ve ever seen. Well, he got me pregnant, but I lost it before I had to tell anyone.”

  “That’s so horrible,” I say softly. “How old were you?”

  “Sixteen,” she says, and smiles at my look of surprise. “I had a life before you, you know.”

  “I know. That’s just so young for back then.”

  “I guess so. But the world wasn’t in black and white back then. We had lots and lots of color.”

  I laugh a little bit. That’s her favorite metaphor. “Well, I’m sorry that happened to you.”

  “And I’m sorry that all this hurt has happened to you, too,” she says softly. “Girl, you’ve had enough of it for one lifetime.”

  I laugh a little bitterly. “I know.”

  “You don’t have to tell me who Cara’s daddy is. I think I already know, anyway. But you can talk to me, if it’ll help with the pain.”

  I stare out at my daughter playing, although my mind reaches back into my past. I can see the basement door, locked tight, light streaming underneath it. I can hear mommy and daddy yelling in the kitchen as I cowered at the bottom of the steps, crying. I can hear mice in the walls and my own fingernails, scraping at the concrete floor.

  “It was a mistake,” I say softly. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

  “I know, honey.”

  “It was perfect. I mean, it was weird and made no sense but it felt good. We were best friends.”

  “And then?” she prompts.

  “And then he got me pregnant and I ran away from him.”

  She nods and doesn’t say anything. We sit in silence for a little while and I try to push away the bad memories, but they won’t go away. It feels like I’m always in that basement, no matter how far away from it I get. I’ll always be down there, a scared little girl.

  “I guess you never told him,” she says finally.

  “No,” I answer. “He was going overseas anyway.”

  “Would you have told him, even if he weren’t?”

  I hesitate. “I… No. I don’t think so.”

  She nods and sighs. “I’m sorry this is so complicated for you, honey. If you want my advice, just talk to him. Will isn’t a bad person.”

  “I know he isn’t,” I say. “I wish it were that simple.”

  She nods but doesn’t say anything and the conversation passes away.

  I can remember the day I found out that I was pregnant. It was a little over a month after I slept with Will that night. I kept half expecting him to tell me how he felt about me every day after that, but he never did. It just never came up, and with each passing day, I felt worse and worse. I felt like he used me, just to get some ass.

  It broke me. Because Will was my first. I lied to him out in the forest. I’ve never been able to let someone get close to me the way Will could. It wasn’t like I was saving myself, and I had boyfriends over the years, but I could never let myself sleep with them. Every time I tried, all I could think about was that basement, and I’d freak out.

  It was easy with Will, though. I didn’t have any bad thoughts, because it was him. It was Will, the guy I’d always loved, the only person who really knew me.

  My period was late, which isn’t super unusual, but I’d been getting some weird symptoms. My boobs were sore, I was exhausted all the time, and I kept getting these weird nausea spells. I did some Googling, and ended up buying a pregnancy test.

  Will came over a few hours after I took it. He had no clue.

  “What’s up, Addie girl?” he said to me, grinning as he came into my apartment and flopped down onto the couch. We finished our finals a week earlier, and my lease was ending pretty soon, so these were the last true days of freedom.

  “Just hanging out,” I said to him, trying to pretend like everything was fine, even though I was freaking out.

  “I got some news,” he said casually.

  “Oh, yeah?” I sat down across from him, crossing my legs.

  He raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Normally we sit together on the couch, our legs touching.

  “I got a tryout,” he said.

  “Really?” I perked up a little bit. He’d been trying to get tryouts with a ton of NHL teams, but kept getting rejected. “Which team?”

  He faltered a little bit. “It’s, uh, a little unconventional.”

  “West coast?” I asked him.

  “It’s a Russian team.”

  I stared at him like he was insane. “Russian?”

  “The KHL is the second biggest league in the world,” he said, trying to sound excited, but I could see the pain behind his expression. He was giving up on his real dream by takin
g a European tryout. He wanted to play in the big league, not the second biggest league. I knew this was killing him.

  “That’s amazing,” I said, trying to push through my own pain.

  “Yeah. I gotta leave in a few weeks,” he says.

  “Great.” I looked away from him. “Good luck.”

  “Yeah. Thanks.” He sat there in silence. “I think I have a good shot.”

  “I’m sure you do.” I stood up and walked away. “Listen, I gotta finish packing.”

  “Yeah, cool.” He stood up. “You, uh, need help?”

  “No, thanks.” I stared at him, fighting tears. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Okay. Cool.” He walked to the door and gave me a look. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine. Just stressed.”

  “Sure, sure. That’s cool.” He hesitated, looking awkward. “Well, all right. See you later, Addie.”

  “Bye.”

  He left, and I hated him so much. I hated him for two years, two long years, until he appeared in my life again just a few days ago.

  Now it’s hard to remember how much I hated him.

  I get up and walk over to Cara. I get down in the dirt with her and pick up a doll. We play together for an hour, laughing and joking. She rolls around and gets dirty, and normally I’d try to keep her clothes clean, but I just don’t care right now. I don’t want to think about being responsible.

  I just want to have fun with my daughter. I want to forget about everything else, especially Will. I know that’s impossible, but a girl can dream.

  I bring Cara back inside and head upstairs with her to change. As I pull off her dirty stuff and find a new outfit, I hear the phone ringing downstairs and Eleanor answering it.

  “Addie, it’s Will for you,” Eleanor calls up from the bottom of the steps.

  “Okay! One second,” I call back.

  I get Cara dressed real fast and leave her in her room to play, the door cracked open slightly. I grab the house phone from Eleanor’s room and pick up.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Addie,” Will says.

  “Long time no see.”

  He laughs a little. “Guess I couldn’t stay away.”

  “I can’t blame you. I’m great.”

  He laughs again, but I can hear something behind it. “Listen, my dad’s home.”

  I hesitate. “Oh, shit. That sucks.”

  “Yeah. Want to go out to the falls together? Like we used to.”

  I pause, staring down at the dresser. I should probably say no, because there is no “like we used to” anymore, not since that night, not since Cara.

  But god, just thinking about that feels good. I can’t help myself. “Okay,” I say. “But I found a new spot you might like.”

  “Oh really? Been exploring?”

  “Not much else to do.”

  “Okay then. I’m down.”

  “It’s a little treacherous. Are you sure you’ll be up for it.”

  Slight pause. “I’ll be good.”

  “Good. Meet me at the split in the path in like an hour.”

  “See you soon, Addie.”

  “Bye, Will.”

  I hang up the phone, grinning to myself like a moron. I turn and Eleanor’s in the doorway, watching me with a smile of her own.

  “You going to go see Will?” she asks me.

  I nod. “Yeah, I am.”

  “Good. I’ll call Julissa.”

  “Thanks, El.”

  “Just be safe, okay? We don’t want another baby.”

  I roll my eyes at her. “Definitely isn’t happening again. Even if I wanted it to.”

  She nods, a smile on her mouth, but her eyes serious. I walk past her and go into Cara’s room. I sit down and watch her play, but my mind’s already scaling the rocks, with Will at my side.

  8

  Will

  I meet her at the crossroads where we left each other last time. I stretch my legs a little bit, ignoring the dull ache in my knee. It’s actually less painful today than it has been in a while, maybe because it knows I’m about to do a more difficult hike than usual. I still have my walking stick, but I probably don’t even need it.

  Addie’s running a few minutes late so I lean up against a tree and look out at the forest. It’s been so long since I really felt comfortable somewhere, and it’s strange how quickly I’m acclimating to being home. Russia never felt like home to me, especially since we lived in a major city. Moscow was nice, but there weren’t exactly pristine hiking paths all over the place.

  I never really knew that I was a hiking and nature kind of guy. I didn’t miss it all that much out in Notre Dame, although I was admittedly too busy playing hockey and getting drunk to really notice it. Out in Russia, I definitely got sick of the hustle and the bustle, but again, I was too busy playing hockey to really think too hard.

  Now that I’m home, though, back in Weston, I realize just how nice it is to be around nature. Having all this pristine land and all these hiking trails at my disposal is a huge blessing, one I don’t think I really appreciated when I was in high school. Granted, I put it to good use, but still.

  The wind picks up, a tiny cyclone of leaves. I shift my weight to my good knee and I spot Addie coming down the short hill to my left, picking her way carefully through the tall grass. She spots me and waves, heading over in my direction.

  I go to meet her, trying to calm my hammering heart. She’s wearing short khaki shorts, hiking boots with tall socks, and a long-sleeved dark blue shirt. My eyes linger on her body and I hope she doesn’t notice.

  “Still got your cane, old man?” she asks.

  I grin a little. “For now,” I say. “But I’ll be running circles around you soon.”

  “Doubt it,” she says, returning my smile. “Know where we’re going?”

  We start walking together. She sets a slow pace, which I’m thankful for. “Nope,” I say. “Didn’t give it much thought.”

  “Of course you didn’t.” She’s still smiling as she runs her hand over her hair, smoothing out her ponytail. “I know a good spot.”

  “Yeah? Have I seen it before?”

  “Actually, no,” she says, and glances at me. “I’m not sure you can do it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s sort of a secret spot I found,” she says. “But it’s hard to get to.”

  I frown. “If you can do it, I can do it.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Don’t get all masculine on me.”

  “I’m not. My knee doesn’t hurt that bad.”

  “Sure, it doesn’t. So why are you limping?”

  I wince. I didn’t think she’d notice. “I’m not,” I lie anyway.

  She nods but doesn’t respond, lips pursed in thought. “Yeah, okay, fine,” she says finally. “Just don’t die, okay?”

  “Die?” I laugh at her. “Where the hell are we going?”

  She grins. “You’ll see.”

  We head down along the path that curves toward the river. The water’s rushing gurgle colors our conversation as I turn it toward what she’s been doing these last couple years. She talks about Cara, although a little guardedly. I can tell she’s protective of her daughter, which I totally get, although I don’t know why she extends that to me. Unless…

  “It’s been boring without you,” she says finally, ending a story about playing checkers with Eleanor every night for a week.

  “Sounds horrible,” I say, smiling at her. “I mean, all that time without me?”

  “Worse fate than death,” she says.

  “Dunno how you did it.”

  “Lots of sleepless nights.” She sighs dramatically. “If only you had come sooner to save me.”

  I laugh and hip check her a little bit. She grins and bumps me back, making my knee twinge, but I ignore it.

  We walk for a few minutes in easy silence. I spot two squirrels chasing each other through the underbrush and up ahead, as the path bends in toward the river, a de
er darts away.

  “Remember that case of beer we found?” I ask her, suddenly remembering a clear, crisp autumn afternoon back in high school.

  She laughs. “What just brought that up?”

  “We found it over there,” I say, pointing toward a small rock formation. “Tucked under a tarp. Remember that?”

  “Yeah,” she says, grinning. “It was probably some senior boy’s stash.”

  “Definitely,” I agree. “We drank so much that day.

  “Yeah, we did.” Her face darkens a bit. “That was the day I decided I hate drinking.”

  “You don’t hate drinking,” I say, laughing a little. “You hate drinking too much.”

  “Same thing.”

  “Most people can drink without getting hammered.”

  “I never learned that trick.”

  I grin, remembering that afternoon. We started out shotgunning beers, or at least trying to, over near the waterfall where the noise would mask the cracking of the cans. We were overly paranoid back then but it was pretty fun. Addie got beer all down the front of her and I didn’t do much better, and we were pretty sticky when we opened our next cans.

  We ended up sitting at the edge of the falls, feet dangling over the side, drinking beer after beer and throwing them down into the river below. We weren’t exactly respectful of nature back then, which I regret, but not much I can do about it now.

  “By the time it was dark, you couldn’t even stand,” I say. “Remember how terrifying it was trying to get you off those rocks?”

  “Oh god,” she groans. “No, I honestly don’t remember.”

  “Really? I had to get up first and practically pick you up.”

  “Holy crap. Weren’t we right at the edge?”

  “Yep,” I say. “It was terrifying and dark and I was a little drunk too.”

  “I just remember feeling dizzy one second, sitting up on those rocks, and the next puking in some bushes.”

  “Not before puking on my shoes,” I say, laughing.

  She groans again. “I don’t remember that, either.”

  “I know. I never told you about it, didn’t want you to feel bad.”

  “So you’re okay telling me now?”