KISMET

by Leigh Ann Lunsford

  “That may be true, but she also doesn’t want to get married until you’re worthy of walking her down the aisle.” His face falls, and I feel like an ass. This isn’t tit for tat with who has her best interest at heart. It can be a common goal we share. “I’m sorry, General. That was out of line.”

  “No. No. You have every reason to protect her from me. If she’d come to therapy, it would be easier.” He’s forlorn, staring at the wall behind me.

  “She isn’t attending sessions?” He shakes his head. “I’m surprised. She seems like she wants to fix this.”

  “Yeah, maybe you can talk to her.” I don’t want to get in the middle, but I want what is best for her.

  “I will.” I promise. We walk back over to our women and mingle with everyone.

  “Oh, Saylor and I are due within a few days of each other.” She smiles.

  “She’s got a bun in the oven, too?” I’m shocked.

  “Yeah. Honeymoon baby.” I laugh because as she pointed out earlier, ours was a wedding baby. Wrong wedding, but perfect outcome. In my book.

  Back at the apartment, I broach the subject. “Why haven’t you been going to therapy?”

  “Did my dad tattle on me to my baby daddy?” She’s prickly, and I need to tread carefully.

  “No. He mentioned it because I told him one of the hold outs for the wedding was your desire for him to walk you down the aisle and y’all to be in a place where your comfortable with that happening.” She huffs and rolls her eyes. “I’m sorry. It just happened. I didn’t think we were telling people about the baby, so I was shocked.”

  “So it’s my fault because I slipped up? You weren’t there. Saylor was moody, and she looked like she was gonna kill me and dared me to say something to her when she announced her pregnancy. I said the first thing that came to mind.” When she gets offended like this, it’s kind of hot, but I don’t know how I’ll deal with seven more months of hormonal overload.

  “I’m not blaming you. Calm down. I just asked why you weren’t going to therapy.” I pull her close and sit down, placing her on my lap.

  “I don’t want to say it.” Her face hides in my neck, and her body is tense. I rub and try to soothe her, but she isn’t relaxing. “I’m horrible. If I admit it to you, you’ll hate me.”

  “I couldn’t hate you. Calm down. This isn’t good for you.” She’s working herself up, and it scares me. I’m gonna read some of those expecting books so I know what to do and what’s good for her.

  “Bottom line— I haven’t been back because he seemed to be getting it. Understanding how I felt, what I’ve been through, and it hurt him. I wanted him to experience it. It’s petty. Selfish. Bitchy.” She’s breathing heavy, and her anxiety is closing in.

  “And human. Baby, it’s human. You’ve lived with it and part of your mind wants him to understand and live with it. He shouldn’t get to say sorry and all be hunky dory.” She nods and closes her eyes. “But, you know you can’t keep doing that. You have other things to focus on, and it hurts you. You want that relationship with your dad, but you’ve buried that need. It’s okay, baby.”

  “I’m going to talk to him. Tell him the truth. We’ve just had so much happen, and it’s stressful.” She tosses me a weak smile.

  “No stress for you. Lie down and I’ll bring you some water.” She’s exhausted from today added to being sick half the morning. As soon as she settles, I grab her a water and get comfortable next to her. “You happy everyone knows?”

  “Kind of. I wish you were there for the announcement. Oh, Mason hauled ass. He’s scared of you.” I shouldn’t find amusement in it, but I do. Mason hasn’t backed down to anyone; he does his own thing with no apologies. I don’t know what scares him the most. Me— or his feelings for Brecklynn. She stayed at Emberlee’s house tonight, and I have a suspicion Mason is there taking care of her. It bothers me . . . for so many reasons.

  He’s a player, and she’s an innocent. At least in my mind she is. His experience is too vast for her, and he can break her. My sister is my world. I’ve tried to be big brother and father to her— roles I take seriously.

  In my mind, she’s a kid. Riding a scooter with her missing front teeth. Running to the tree at Christmas, thrilled Santa visited. Wearing mismatched socks and her biggest worry was deciding between peanut butter and jelly or ham and cheese sandwiches. I know she’s an adult, but I struggle with it.

  I don’t want her hurt. Everything is chugging along. I’ve buried the hatchet with him. I’ve got Emberlee in my arms, a baby on the way with the woman I love. I’m kicking ass in school and found my niche in training. If he hurts her, I’ll in turn hurt him and everything I’ve busted my ass for will be for naught. It will destroy the happy medium we have, and it’s the last thing I want, but if he hurts her that will happen.

  I need to talk to Brecklynn and stat. I’ll give her a few days to recuperate but starting tomorrow she’s back under my roof. “He should be scared. Fucker,” I mumble.

  “Brody,” her hands cup my stubble, “first, don’t shave. I like this. But you have to let her make mistakes. If Mason and her don’t work, you can’t fault him unless he really fucks up. She went in to this with her eyes open, and she’s actually told me he is trying for a relationship, and she’s making him wait. But, she’s gonna fall. You can be there to help her up, but you can’t control feelings and her behavior. I know you love her and are protective— but she isn’t a child.”

  “You speak a foreign language, woman. I can’t not protect her. I can’t ignore my gut and let her falter. It’s against everything I’ve done for her.” I try and tell her as simply as I can.

  “You have to. You have to find a way. Say Mason cheats. Or dumps her. Her heart’s broken. Where does that leave us? Our friends? I’ll be pissed at him, but I’ll still love him. So will our friends. They’re consenting adults, they know what they’re doing and you have to let them.” I decide not to argue with her. I stand and strip my clothes off, climbing back in bed. She tucks herself against me, ready for sleep. As her breathing evens, I pick up the book I bought earlier. Some tips for fathers to be, it explains what the baby needs, the stages of pregnancy, and a bunch of shit I need to cram for. As I skim the pages, I realize I’m in for a long ass ride. Bumpy. Full of hills. Many battles and wars. Twists and turns. Curves. Hazardous to my health with some changes I’ll be implementing in the next few days.

  “I’m heading to the store, need anything?” I ask my sister. She’s fidgeting with some computer program for editing photos.

  “Soda, please.” She doesn’t look up.

  Sitting down next to her, I pull her laptop from her face. “I need to talk to you.” She sits back and crosses her arm. “You feeling better?” It’s been a week, and I haven’t seen much of her.

  “Yeah. All better. Thanks.” She reaches for the laptop, and I move it. “Good lord, get to it.”

  She definitely didn’t get disciplined enough as a child. I blame my mom. “This thing with Mason. It’s fucking with me. I’m scared it’s going to blow up in all our faces.”

  “Not your concern, Brody. If it does, it’s on me and Mason. You don’t need to get involved.” She’s so fucking serious, and it’s laughable.

  “When have you known me to back off where you’re concerned? I can’t. It goes against the bro code.”

  “I’m serious. You get involved and you’ll blow your relationship with Lee Lee up. If he hurts me, I’ll deal. If I hurt him, he’ll deal. We know what we’re doing. Both of us know we’re playing with fire— we struck the match, but you don’t need to pour the gasoline.” She shoves my shoulder. “School has started, and it may fizzle. It may not. Worry about yourself.”

  “Never.” I ruffle her hair, and she shrieks. “I will back off, but if he hurts you, I’ll lose my mind.”

  “You do that and get ready for every other weekend visits. She loves you. She loves her friends. That isn’t a fair choice for you to place on her. I’ll support her when she
leaves your ass.” I’m hurt.

  “You serious?”

  “Yes. Not because I don’t love you, but because I love you enough to call you out on your mistakes.” She grins. “It hurts me more than it hurts you.”

  I’ve heard that shit before. Right before a wooden spoon was taken to my ass by my mom. Still calling bullshit. “Hate you.”

  “Hate you, more. Don’t forget my soda and give me my work.” She goes back to losing herself in editing her images, and I make my way to the store.

  I pour her coffee and wait for her to arise and stumble to the kitchen. Her eyes are barely open, and she reaches for her mug. Hot droplets hit me in the face followed by an entire mouthful of scorching black liquid. “What the fuck is this? No, it can’t be. This pregnancy better not be fucking with my coffee consumption.” Her eyes drop to her mug. “I love you, coffee. Don’t betray me. Don’t deny me your wonderful aroma and sinful taste.” She takes another hefty sip and again— I’m wearing the concoction. “I hate this. Your spawn has inhabited my body and turned my traitorous taste buds against coffee.”

  I feel the need for a Kevlar vest, body shield, and possibly a tank with the news I’m delivering to her. “It’s decaf, babe. I read caffeine isn’t good for you. In a few days you’ll be used to it.”

  “It’s what?” She sets her mug down.

  “Decaf.” I’m fearful for my life.

  “You know what this cup of decaf is good for?” She picks it up and sets it down.

  “Our baby.” I’m proud of the reading I’ve done.

  “NO! Throwing it at your fucking head. It’s the only good thing I can do with this mug. I won’t get used to it.” She’s damn near hysterical.

  “You will.” I try to be encouraging.

  “You will,” she mimics. “No, you will get used to sex with your hand. Or the pocket pussy I suggest you order.”

  I scoff. “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “You’re being stupid. I can’t be in the room with you— especially because I haven’t had my fucking coffee yet.” She stomps like a toddler to the bedroom.

  “Embe,” I try calling to reason with her.

  Fucking Sybil-exorcist-poltergeist-person turns around. “Don’t. Embe. Me.” The bedroom door slams, and I sit my ass on the barstool not bothering to wipe my face as the coffee sticks.

  Boot camp wasn’t even this eventful.

  I come home exhausted from a full day of classes and some pre-season meetings with the baseball staff. I promised Emberlee we’d stay at her house tonight, but I’m willing to beg, borrow, and steal so I don’t have to pack a bag and drive. I walk in to Emberlee and Brecklynn sprawled on the couch and some contraption hooked to my television. “What’s this?” I’m looking, trying not to dwell on the fact my girl didn’t greet me.

  “Sit down.” Still stewing about the coffee this morning. Fun times.

  “Can I drop—”

  “NO!” She interrupts. “Sit down.” Oh, someone is in a pissy mood. Brecklynn is laughing and sticking her tongue out at me.

  I sit in the recliner and ask again. “What is this?”

  “This is a lesson. By the way, I’ve thrown your books in the dumpster, and if you buy another one, I’ll shove it up your ass.” She hits a few buttons, and the screen comes to life with her laptop attached. “PowerPoint. Issue one. Caffeine.” She huffs and clenches her fist. “Nowhere in any research I’ve done does it say no caffeine. It suggests cutting back, which I’m amendable to, but don’t you ever pull a stunt like this morning again.” Her tone scares me.

  Actual. Fucking. Fear.

  She hits another button. Gives me spiels about this term and that term. I don’t comprehend any of it. One— I’m fucking tired. Two— I don’t care. I’ll give her the caffeine in her coffee. I’ll monitor it in other ways, and I’ll always take care of her and our baby. “And our first appointment is Thursday.” She flicks off the computer, loads her shit in her backpack and starts for the door.

  “Embe, can we stay here tonight?” I plead. “I’m excited about Thursday.”

  “You and Brecklynn are staying here. I need space.” Her lips quiver, and I stand to reach her.

  “Hey, why are you breaking up with me?” Brecklynn jokes.

  “Because you share his DNA,” Emberlee snaps.

  Breck laughs, “Uh, little bug you’re carrying does, as well.” The tears fall, and the door slams.

  “Damn it, Brecklynn.” I sigh.

  “Oh, this is gonna be fun big brother. Only what— six months.” I wasn’t lying when I said I couldn’t wait until Thursday. She’d made an appointment as soon as she learned she was pregnant, but it wasn’t until next week. They’d called in some prenatal vitamins and ordered lab work prior, but the ultrasound and doctor visit was scheduled out due to conflicts. I’m glad she was able to move it up. “This is your fault. Coming between Lee Lee and coffee is like coming between me and my vibrator.”

  I whip my head at her explanation. “Fuck you.” I don’t want to hear that shit.

  “Hate you.” I flip her off and slam my bedroom door. I pick up the phone and call my stubborn, caffeine-deprived girl. Voicemail. “Baby, please let me know when you get to your house. I’ll miss sleeping next to you. If you change your mind, let me know and I’ll be over. Love you.” Opening my books, I study until her text.

  Embe: Here

  Whoa. I shoot a text to Avery.

  Me: Help me. Fix her a cup of coffee—real coffee, not the shit I forced down her this morning. PLEASE!

  Avery: On it. You’re a dumbass. Lee Lee and coffee are like ham and burger. You can’t have one without the other.

  No fuck. Learned that lesson the hard way. Jumping in the shower, I review some notes, and I’m drifting off. Pushing everything to the side, I lay back and sleep takes me. I’m startled awake by the bed dipping, and I know it’s her. Her scent fills my nostrils. I look at the clock and it reads three in the morning. “Hey baby. You okay?”

  Sniffling greets me. “I couldn’t sleep without you.”

  “Come here,” I pull her to me and hold her tight against my body. I feel her shake, and I rub her back. “Please don’t drive this late. Call me and I’ll come get you.”

  “B-b-bu-but I was mean. I’m sorry.” The wails are silent but strong.

  “Babe, you weren’t mean. Your body is going through a lot right now. It’s okay.” I’ll make it a point to pamper her this weekend.

  Swoosh. Swoosh. Thump. Thump. Thump. “That’s your baby.” Emberlee’s doctor— her young male doctor— announces. The same male doctor who had his hands all up in my girl’s area. The same male doctor Emberlee begged me with her eyes not to kill.

  I stare at the screen. I can’t tell what’s what. “You’re measuring fifteen weeks. The due date we gave you is correct. March 20th.” The tech rubbing the wand over her belly tells us.

  “Can we tell the sex yet?” Emberlee is impatient. A few clicks, a few movements.

  “I could be wrong, but I’d say girl. Unless it sprouts something, but we can usually see it by now.” If it was a boy you’d see it— he would be mine. But, fuck, a girl. I just want a healthy baby, but I can’t take another girl to watch over.

  Early grave.

  “A girl?” Her voice is a whisper, laced with wonderment. I bring her hand to my mouth. “You okay?” she asks.

  “Perfect. Staring at Smudge.”

  “Smudge?” She’s puzzled.

  “That’s all I can see.” I point to the screen. “A smudge.” I shrug.

  “I was thinking Peanut. Butter Bean,” she suggests.

  “No. I like Smudge.”

  “Of course you do.” She grumbles. “Dr. Faulk, please tell my baby daddy I can have caffeine.”

  “We ask you to cut back. What did you usually drink?” He is jotting notes in his chart.

  “A pot or so,” I remark. “Seriously, she has the pot first and then a mug.”

  “Hmmm. I prefer two hundred m
illigrams a day, which is roughly, eleven-ounces. Is that doable?” He’s smart to tread so delicately.

  “Yes, but can I still have chocolate?” Insatiable.

  He chuckles. “Yes, but not as your main food source.” At least that’s a win for me. “How are your hormones?” She looks at me, and hell no; I’m not answering that. I’m all of a sudden mute.

  “A bit crazy. I cry a lot. And I get mad.” She’s embarrassed. I would be too if I were her. Crazy.

  “That’s normal. It’ll get worse throughout the pregnancy. The mid to end of this trimester should ease up, but the last trimester will be rough. You’ll be exhausted, uncomfortable and in general . . . a bear.” Thanks for the encouragement.

  She cleans up, and I drive us home in silence. “You okay?” she questions as soon as we’re inside.

  “Yes. Just thinking. A girl. Lord help me.” Her eyes glow, and her smile is relaxed. “We need to discuss living arrangements. The apartment is only two bedrooms.” I could probably swing a three-bedroom, but I don’t want to dip into my savings too much. I have a kid coming.

  “My parents called this morning with the same concern.” My pride is going to take a beating. “Avery’s parents are willing to buy my share of the house, and my parents want to give that to us for a down payment for a house. The payments will be close to what rent is, but I don’t know if you want that.” She pauses, and wrings her hands. “Or we can stay here, and Brecklynn said she’d move in with Avery.” That doesn’t sound like the option she wants.

  “What do you want, baby?” I kiss her forehead.

  “I like the idea of a house. I want to be close to my friends. But I don’t want to abandon Breck. We’ll have a baby, and she’ll cry and take a lot of our time. Brecklynn is young and enjoying college.” I sigh.

  “Let me talk to her. Maybe we can find a house close to yours now, and if it’s three or four bedrooms Breck can stay there.” She frowns “What?”