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A New Leash on Love

Page 21

by Debbie Burns


  And try as she might, all week it had been impossible to separate thoughts of pregnancy from thoughts of Craig. They were too entwined. They didn’t have to be though, and they might not always be. But right now, the baby and Craig were chicken-and-egg thoughts. Megan couldn’t think about what to do with the baby until after she’d told Craig. But she wasn’t going to tell Craig until she was positive what she wanted to do with the baby. She couldn’t help laughing—she sure was the bacon this time.

  Getting pregnant and having kids had always been something she wanted. If things had worked out with Paul, she would have wanted to start trying in a few years. But she wasn’t with Paul. She was alone. Or at most in a very new and uncertain relationship with a guy who’d probably be as excited about the idea of bringing a child into this world with her as he would be about having a kidney removed.

  What she needed to do was get thoughts of Craig out of her head so she could start giving serious thought to what to do with this child they’d created. Abortion wasn’t a possibility. Maybe for other people. But not for her. So it was raising this child on her own or giving it up for adoption. But every time she formed the word adoption in her head, it was followed by a sharp inner scream of No!

  She’d only known she was pregnant for five days, and each day that no grew louder and clearer. The truth was, there was no denying it any longer. She knew the answer. She was just afraid to voice it.

  “I’m going to have a baby, Sledge,” she said aloud.

  Sledge slowed his step and turned his head to look her way, then seemingly satisfied, beelined for a light pole to mark it.

  “And I’m going to keep it. And just like with the shelter, I’m going to give this baby everything I have. I can do it. I want to do it. No matter what Craig decides.”

  Relief washed over her from saying the words aloud. There. Give your confidence a day or two to build, and you’ll be ready to face him.

  On the walk back, it felt like a truckload of bricks had been lifted. For the first time all week, stirrings of happiness overrode the unease in her stomach. There were plenty of single moms successfully raising children. She could join a support group and call on the aid of friends or a hired nanny when she needed to. Confidence rising, she knew just what to do with her Friday night. She’d swing by the grocery store and pick up the makings of a healthy meal, then dive in to one of the half-dozen pregnancy books Ashley had loaned her.

  When she rounded the corner of the parking lot, her heart skipped a beat. Craig was parked out front, leaning against the side of his car and scrolling through his phone. Next to him, on the hood of his Bimmer, was a bouquet of bright-yellow daffodils.

  Most likely, he’d tried the door and realized it was locked but had seen her car and figured she was out with a dog. He knew it was one of her favorite ways to end her work day.

  She took a second to collect herself before he noticed her. He’d had a crazy week, and she hadn’t seen him since Monday morning when everything changed. That seemed like a year ago.

  Her body responded on autopilot just looking at him. Her chest lit with the stirrings of lust mixed with something subtler that she was a bit terrified might be the beginning of love. Fear and a ferocious hope swirled inside her too.

  Looking at him, she realized what she wanted more than anything was for him to be okay when she told him. Not to sweep her off her feet and rush her to the altar. She wasn’t looking for fairy tale here. Just to be okay and not reveal some ugly, mean side he’d kept hidden so far. To respect her decision and not run for the hills. To be supportive and understanding once he had time to digest everything.

  But she wasn’t ready to face the reality that she had no real idea how he’d react. Before clearing her throat to get his attention, she abandoned the idea of telling him. Not yet. What could it hurt, letting it go another day or two?

  “I’m sorry, sir, but we’re closed. You’re going to have to take your business elsewhere.”

  He turned at the sound of her voice, smiling and slipping his phone into his pocket. He nodded in Sledge’s direction. “With that bodyguard, I’m obliged to listen to you.”

  As they neared, Sledge tucked his tail and dropped behind Megan, showing that he was still hesitant to trust men he didn’t know.

  “I guess he’s still a bit of a mess. I forget sometimes, considering how obedient he is.”

  “I can see that,” he said as Sledge hovered behind her. “He’s a spectacular-looking dog though. He was awesome at the party too.”

  Craig sank to a squat and held out his hand, speaking Sledge’s name gently and taking Megan by surprise. She held her breath and waited, hopeful. It took a full minute, but Sledge tentatively slipped around her, sniffed Craig’s hand, and gave it a single lick. He then stood still and allowed Craig to scratch his muzzle.

  Tears rushed to Megan’s eyes, though she wasn’t sure if they were from seeing the unexpected softness in Craig, the growing trust in Sledge, or both. She was trying to blink the tears away when Craig stood up and noticed.

  “Hey.” He planted a kiss on her forehead and brushed her cheek dry with the side of his thumb. “You okay?”

  She nodded. “Just touched.”

  “If I knew that was all it took, I wouldn’t have messed with the flowers.”

  A laugh bubbled out as he scooped up the daffodils, offering them to her.

  “Thanks.” She took them, letting Sledge have a whiff. They had uneven stems and no packaging whatsoever. “Did you pick these yourself?”

  Craig winked. “I figured you wouldn’t want something store-bought in case it wasn’t sustainably grown and certified by the Rainforest Alliance.”

  “So instead you robbed some old lady’s garden of spring flowers?”

  “No, I risked life and limb stopping on the side of the highway to pilfer them off an exit ramp.”

  “Wow, I didn’t see that one coming.” She giggled, picturing him in his nicely pressed dress shirt and pants meandering the sloping hillside of an exit ramp to pluck daffodils.

  “Well, thank goodness you’re okay.”

  She pulled the keys from her pocket and made a step toward the door. “I’d better get Sledge inside. And since these are black-market flowers, I’ll get them in water.”

  He stopped her, locking an arm around her waist. His free hand slipped into the back of her hair and he leaned in, drawing her lower lip between his teeth. Then his mouth parted and he kissed her slowly, like he had all night and nothing else to do. “I missed the hell out of you,” he said when he pulled away. “It’s been a long week. Unfortunately, it’ll be a bit longer till we can really have some time. I’m due to pick up the kids in about twenty minutes. I think I told you I have them this weekend.”

  “You did.” She nuzzled her head against him and inhaled, savoring his smell the same way she did the moist, wet wind that preceded thunderstorms.

  With Paul or the couple of guys who’d come before him, she hadn’t had these whole-body stirrings. Hadn’t felt that losing them would be like losing the ability to breathe.

  Craig smoothed a hand over her back and drew her closer. Her belly pressed deep into the space between his groin and hip, bringing her thoughts back to the baby. Would he surprise her like this, the flowers and the gentle way he treated Sledge, when she told him she was pregnant? Or would it be their unraveling?

  Despite the warmth radiating off him, goose bumps pocked her neck and arms. Shifting the flowers and leash to one hand, she locked her arms around him like a vise. She was probably smashing pollen into the back of his shirt, but she didn’t care. Sledge shifted in place beside her, unsettled.

  “Hey, you okay?” Craig asked, pulling back to look at her.

  She shook her head and swallowed, her throat parched and scratchy. Tell him and get it over with. A few days isn’t going to change anything.

  It was
there on the tip of her tongue. She even opened her mouth to form the words, but she couldn’t force herself to do it. What if keeping this baby meant losing him?

  “Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay,” he said. “Because of me, we jumped into this fast. I made some mistakes, but it doesn’t mean I regret a single second we’ve been together.”

  When she kept quiet, he continued. “That time away from you got me thinking. We went from being friends to a committed relationship we were hiding from the world…even if it was unintentional. We got so deep so fast, it felt like I had to keep you apart from the rest of my life to keep everything afloat. I didn’t want Sophie and Reese to know, not this soon. But that didn’t make it right. My baggage isn’t an excuse not to treat you the way you deserve to be treated. And you deserve the best. So no more hiding this or avoiding the world or whatever it is we’ve been doing.”

  An unexpected panic was setting in. She could picture her life playing out as if it were that simple. They’d go on dates. She’d start telling more people than Ashley. She’d face Sophie and Reese as more than just someone who works at a shelter.

  It could be well and fine and even spectacular if she wasn’t five weeks pregnant.

  If.

  “So,” he continued, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but how about nixing the sleepovers for a while—spectacular as they’ve been—and going on a few honest-to-God dates? We could start Sunday afternoon. I take the kids back around two. If it’s okay with you, I thought I’d wait until we had a date or two to actually tell them. In case they ask what it is we do together.” He grinned at the last part and brushed his thumb over her lower lip.

  A mountain of anxiety pressed in from all directions. “I don’t…I don’t know.”

  “I’ve got ten years on you, Megan, and one thing I’ve learned is that sometimes it’s okay not to know.”

  If.

  If she could have one wish, would it be to wish the baby away and head down this path that could be so simple and easy and natural?

  And then his words sank in. Sometimes it’s okay not to know. Right now, more than ever in her life, the unknowns were pressing in with hyper-gravitational force. The path Craig was talking about, romantic and wonderful as it sounded, felt impossible considering her reality.

  She had no idea what was ahead. Maybe they could make it past this. Maybe they couldn’t. Time and nothing else would tell. There was only one thing she knew—and knew with great clarity.

  She’d never wish this baby away.

  Chapter 21

  Stacked in a towering pile or spread across her bed, her borrowed collection of pregnancy books was overwhelming. She’d only wanted to take a few, but Ashley had insisted on lending her all of them. Prior to diving headfirst into this, Megan had had no idea how much there was to know about bringing a baby into the world.

  When Ashley was pregnant, it had seemed fun and exciting. But now that it was happening to her, it was such a different story. Her breasts were incredibly sore. And there was the nausea. All week, it had come on with zero warning. Mornings were the worst. Carbs helped a bit, but certain things set it off every time she encountered them. Stinky trash cans for one. And the smell of fresh crap when it wafted through the kennels’ doors. She’d heaved into her office trash can twice last week and once more this morning, a Saturday morning no less, and the main room had been chock-full of people. If this continued, Patrick would pick up on it for sure.

  Knowing the best way to deal with the changes morphing her body was to understand them, Megan was determined to get through as many pages tonight as she could. She’d started the week attempting to tackle the books page by page, one at a time. She’d gotten restless the more she read and started picking and choosing which ones to skim, depending on her mood. From what she could control to what she couldn’t, the seemingly endless list of potential disasters was unsettling at best. Soft cheeses and deli meats were a danger, and cleaning out the cat litter seemed akin to strolling through a war zone.

  It still amazed her how something so natural was fraught with risk at every turn. How so many people got over their fears and intentionally determined to bring life into this world was unfathomable. Developmental risks. Genetic disorders. Birthing complications. And that was just getting to day one.

  The more she read, the more worried she grew about telling Craig.

  Not wanting to think about anything heavy, she chose one of the lighter books—one that did a great job of making the humiliating humorous—and settled into a pile of pillows and blankets to read. Within seconds, Moxie and Max were by her side, purring and kneading her thighs.

  She made it through thirty or so pages when she started dozing off. She fought it for a few pages but eventually gave in with the lamp still on.

  Blinking in confusion sometime later, she sat upright, attempting to surface from a deep sleep. A kink from the way she’d fallen asleep was locking up her neck. She was doing her best to massage it out when her cell phone beeped, indicating a missed call.

  So that’s what woke me up. Standing, and feeling her stomach lurch, she reached for her phone. She blinked at the name on the screen. Sophie. On a Saturday night. What was she doing calling at nearly one in the morning?

  She dialed the number, clearing her throat and rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

  “Thanks for calling back,” Sophie said without saying hello. She was crying, clearly, and sniffling.

  Alarm rocked through Megan’s body. “What’s wrong, Sophie?”

  “Nothing. It’s, um… Can you pick me up?”

  “Uh…” Megan shook her head, thoughts racing. “Are you with your mom or dad?”

  “I’m at this girl’s house…from my school. I can’t call my parents. Not about this.”

  Megan dug through her nightstand drawer for paper and a pencil and wrote down the address. Promising she’d be there as soon as possible, she hung up, chugged a glass of water and took a box of crackers to nibble on in the car, grabbed her keys and purse, and headed for the door.

  Using her phone for navigation, she left the familiar streets of Webster and was soon in the heart of Ladue. The house her phone led her to was sprawling and probably cost more than all the condos on her street put together. As she slowed to a stop, she spotted Sophie off to the side by the driveway.

  She hung by the curb, sucking on her lower lip, a bag slung over her shoulders. The headlights shot beams of light on her face. Her eyes were swollen and her cheeks tearstained. Letting the ignition idle, Megan stepped out and headed over.

  “Oh, shit, Soph,” she said, hugging her tightly. “You okay?”

  Sophie sobbed into Megan’s arms before sucking in a ragged breath and releasing it in a snort-laugh. “Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks for coming. I would’ve died if I had to call my parents.”

  Megan glanced toward the house. Accent lanterns lit the yard, and soft lamplight filled several of the rooms. Not a soul was visible anywhere. “Are your friend’s parents here?”

  Sophie shook her head. “Can we go? I want out of here.”

  Megan let out a controlled breath. Nothing in Volunteer 101 or How to Deal with Your Boyfriend’s Kids covered this. “So do you want me to take you home?”

  “No way. I can’t face either of them right now. What if we went to your place for a bit?”

  Megan chewed her lip. “What if they call for you?”

  “This was supposed to be a spend-the-night. I’ve got my phone. They don’t need to know anything else.”

  With reservation the size of an elephant swelling in her belly, Megan headed over to her passenger door and pulled it open. “Yeah, Soph, let’s go.”

  They drove in silence as Sophie cried, brushing away silent tears and sniffling. Then, as they made it to Webster, Sophie abruptly burst out with “I hate who I am.”

  Megan blinked, taking note o
f the girl’s word choice. She treaded forward hesitantly. “You mean the part of you with a giant heart who loves animals and who’s doing an awesome job at the shelter? Or the part who’s kind to her little brother even when he’s pissing her off? Or the part that’s kicking butt in school? I’m confused. What part do you hate?”

  “You don’t get it. Grown-ups never get it.”

  Megan flipped on her blinker and turned down a dark, empty street. “Actually, I think I might, but I was trying to make a point.”

  “What point?”

  “That what you hate isn’t you. It’s that other people don’t get you. Or don’t like you or appreciate you. And you aren’t alone there. I’m pretty sure that’s just human nature.”

  Sophie dragged her hand under her nose and stared at her. “But how do you change it? How do you make other people stop hating you?”

  “You want the truth?” Megan shot her a quick glance and smiled sympathetically.

  “Yeah,” she said. “The truth.”

  “The truth is you can’t. Not without losing yourself. And believe me when I tell you that you’re too awesome to lose yourself.”

  “So what, I’m just supposed to deal with my friends hating me?”

  “Can I ask you something, Soph? Do you think they’re real friends if they act in a way that makes you think they hate you?”

  “No,” she said after a long pause. “I don’t.”

  “I know when adults tell kids these things, you think we’ve lost touch with reality, but our reality changes as we grow. When you’re my age, you’ll get that it isn’t worth trying to be friends with assholes. Pardon my French.”

  Sophie laughed, then sniffed. “I wish I could grow up now.”

  “Well, it happens quicker than you might think. Just hang on to what makes you happy. And whatever happened tonight—whatever it was—you’re worth more than that.”

  “I feel so dirty, you know?” Sophie said, brushing away fresh tears.

  Megan’s throat plummeted into her stomach. She tried to keep her voice light. “Were there boys there?”

 

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