by Jen Andrews
“Do you want to hear your baby’s heartbeat now?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yes, please. I’d love nothing more.” A minute later, the whooshing sound of our baby’s heartbeat filled the room. The three of us sat for a few minutes as we watched the baby twitch around inside me.
I thought to myself how much I wished Andy were here with me to see his child on the screen. I thought of how much he had missed with Emma. Before I knew it, my mom was handing me a Kleenex because I was crying.
Dr. Stewart printed out a couple of pictures for me to take home. I told her that as soon as I could find out about Emma, I would let her know.
Once I was alone in the room, I let myself cry for the baby growing inside me, for Andy, and for myself. I prayed I had the strength for everything that was about to happen. After getting dressed, I sent a text to Jess, Sasha, Will and Justin.
It’s official . . . Fourteen weeks along. Time to get the rest of our plans underway.
When I exited the exam room, I collected the prenatal vitamins, a DVD of my sonogram from the receptionist, and scheduled my next appointment.
I wanted to tell Andy so badly, but for his sake, I needed the confirmation that our baby was healthy. I hated keeping it from him, but really didn’t see any other alternative until I had more information.
Right then, I felt like the world’s biggest hypocrite.
I was so angry at what Michelle had done by keeping Emma from him, yet here I was doing the exact same thing. The situation was completely different, because I intended to tell Andy as soon as possible, regardless of whether our baby was healthy or not.
The pregnancy was completely unexpected and unplanned, but when I saw our baby on the screen, I knew without a doubt, I loved the tiny life growing inside me. I hoped Andy would be thrilled about it, and I decided right then my mission was to find out what I could about Emma first to spare him any more pain.
The look on Andy’s face when Corey told him about Emma was something I never wanted to see again. He had been completely blindsided, yet again. I’d never seen a man more broken in my life. It was as if his entire world had been yanked right out from under him.
Because it had been. It was up to me to put his world back in place in regards to Emma, and try to keep myself together at the same time. He had given up hope, but I couldn’t. There was too much at stake.
After my doctor’s appointment, Mom and I sat down at a restaurant for lunch and I called my dad.
“Baby girl, how was the appointment?” he asked without saying hello.
My dad was not Andy’s biggest fan right then. I didn’t blame him for being mad at him for leaving. I was mad at him too.
My mouth opened to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. I was worried my dad was going to be even angrier once he found out I was pregnant. The fact that my birth mother neglected and abandoned me never sat right with him. He didn’t understand how someone could leave their child. Now, not only had Andy left me, but he’d unknowingly left our baby too.
“Zoey, are you still there?”
After clearing my throat, I mumbled, “Yeah, I’m still here.”
He waited patiently on the other end of the line for me to tell him about how my appointment went.
“I’m fourteen weeks pregnant,” I said quickly. “Dad, before you can get any angrier, you need to know what happened. My pill failed because I was sick with the flu. He never would have left if he’d known . . .”
He exhaled. “Zoey, come by for dinner tonight so we can talk in person, please.”
Shit. This is not good. He sounded upset.
“Okay, but Dad, please don’t be mad at me. I know you’re not happy with him right now, but I need your support,” I said with a shaky voice. I didn’t want to disappoint my dad, ever.
“Mija, let me talk to him,” my mom said when she realized the conversation was not going well.
Without warning my dad, I handed her the phone, and she began talking to him in Spanish. Crap. I hated it when they did that. I was the only one in the family who didn’t speak Spanish.
They tried to teach me after I was adopted, but it would not click in my brain. I could understand for the most part, what people were saying, but to put responses together correctly and say the words properly . . . Yeah, I could not grasp it and constantly said words backward or out of order.
Plus, I couldn’t roll my R’s to save my ass.
I tuned my mom out because I didn’t want to listen to her argue with my dad because of me. I knew enough Spanish to know she was not happy with him.
She hung up with my dad a few minutes later, and I waited for her to take a drink of her water.
“Is he mad at me?” I asked hesitantly.
“No Zoey. He’s not mad at you.”
Great.
Good for me . . . bad for Andy.
“You know how he feels about our Andy leaving.”
Yeah, I sure did. Our food arrived, and I dug in because of course, I was starving. I heard my mom snicker, so I looked up at her.
“Slow down Mija, you’ll make yourself sick.”
I set my fork down, wiped my mouth with my napkin, and chewed slowly. “Is this better?” I asked with a mouthful of food, just because I knew it grossed her out when people talked with food in their mouths. My brothers loved a good game of “See Food” during family dinner on occasion, and for some reason I felt the need to play right then even though my brothers weren’t here.
“You’re just like your disgusting brothers sometimes.” She shook her head, laughed, and then started on her own lunch.
After a minute, she set her silverware down and turned to me. “Zoey, give your dad a few days to adjust to the news, please. He’ll get over it.”
“Of course I will, Mom.” I nodded.
He needed a few days, and I definitely needed a few days to process the news. I could deal with that.
When we finished lunch, my mom insisted on going to a maternity clothing store, since she pointed out to me that I was about to bust the button off my shorts. I didn’t want to be one of those women who looked frumpy, or wore their regular clothing during their pregnancies even though it was four sizes too small.
I ended up trying on, and liking several sundresses I could grow in to over the next couple of months while the weather was still warm. I’d practically been living in sundresses anyway. I might get as big as a beached whale, but I still wanted to look and feel pretty. Not to mention be comfortable.
While I was in the fitting room, my phone blew up with texts from my friends and family giving their congratulations and support. I desperately needed to take a moment to myself, so I sat on the bench in the fitting room.
An uncontrollable wave of guilt came over me because I wasn’t going to tell Andy until the time was right.
He should have been the first person to know.
I just wanted him to come back to me. I couldn’t breathe without him. My phone pinged with another text. It was from Sasha, and it simply read,
September 6th, 1 pm.
My heart thumped in anticipation. Our plan was coming together, slowly, but surely. My friend was going to be on the frontlines, while I waited patiently on the sidelines. That was our agreement since my pregnancy had been confirmed. She was, under no circumstances, allowing me on the frontline of the fight.
Sasha was going to meet with Michelle under the guise of a spoiled rich princess, who was looking for a nice high-rise apartment for her “daddy” to buy her.
Sasha was really playing the part well too. She had washed out the purple and black dye and dyed her hair to its natural color. We finally knew what color her hair was supposed to be—platinum blonde! She even borrowed a few high dollar outfits from one of her friends. She was ready to get her “rich bitch” attitude on.
I was definitely going to San Francisco, just in case, but I wasn’t sure if I would attend the meeting with her or not, but I desperately wanted to. We weren’t sure if Michelle
knew who I was, or if her brother had even mentioned speaking to Andy.
While I was in the fitting room, my mom kept hanging more clothes over the door for me to try on. I bought enough clothes to last me a few more months while my baby belly grew. We headed back to my apartment, unloaded all of my shopping bags, and took them upstairs.
As soon as my mom left to go back over to the shop, I went to the kitchen to take the first of my prenatal vitamins. The message light was blinking on my answering machine. I pressed the play button and the room was flooded with Andy’s deep voice.
“Hey, Beautiful . . . I just wanted to call and say thank you for the photo book. It means so much that you made it for me, and thought of me on my birthday. I didn’t get the chance to tell you when we talked last time, but . . . I love you, Zoey. So much. I know I’ve fucked things up . . . And I’m so sorry. Please know that I love you. I’ll talk to you soon.”
I swore in the time he’d been back in New Zealand his accent had gone completely native. He sounded like he never left there. I listened to his message one more time, just to hear his voice.
He said he would talk to me soon. He didn’t mention the postcard where I’d practically begged him not to give up on us.
Please, I needed him to be optimistic. For us. I just needed more time.
Since I was worn out, I decided to take a nap before I headed to my parents for dinner and to talk to my dad. In my bedroom, I pulled Andy’s dresser drawer open out of habit and found that he had left me his New Zealand T-shirt. It was the only thing in the drawer.
Quickly, I stripped off my clothes and pulled his shirt over my head. With his scent surrounding me, I crawled onto his side of the bed, resting my head on his pillow that smelled of him.
I fell asleep quickly. Later, I awoke to my phone ringing. I scrambled across the bed to answer it, hoping it was Andy.
“Hello,” I murmured, still half asleep.
“Oh Mija, sorry. Did I wake you?”
I glanced over at the clock on the nightstand to see what time it was—dinnertime. “Yeah Mom, I’m sorry. I fell asleep. I’m on my way over now.”
“Alright, we were starting to get worried about you,” she said.
We ended our call and I pulled on some stretchy yoga pants, and flip-flops. So much for my not-looking-frumpy-while-pregnant idea I’d had earlier.
After dinner, my dad and I sat down in the living room to talk.
“Zoey,” he said. “I’m sorry for being a jerk earlier when you called. I should have been more supportive.”
I shook my head, took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “I understand why you’re upset. I’m upset with him too. I’m trying to understand everything from Andy’s point of view. We haven’t dealt with the things he has in his life. He has his aunt and uncle left, but that’s it. If you had seen the look on his face when he was told he had a baby, and she was dead . . . it was horrible. He doesn’t deal with death well.”
Well shit, who does? But to be the sole survivor of a crash that killed your entire family . . . that would be excruciating for anyone to deal with.
A light bulb blinked on in my head, and I realized then, maybe he hadn’t really dealt with it. I thought back to the few conversations we actually had about the accident and his move to the USA.
Hamish and Sarah had plucked him right out of his life and moved him thousands of miles from everything he’d ever known. Everything he’d ever loved. He needed New Zealand for comfort, to be close to the family he loved and had lost. Even though they were no longer alive, he still needed them.
Maybe going home to New Zealand was his way of dealing with Emma’s death. It’s not like he would get any type of closure from Michelle. I just wished he had chosen to need me instead of New Zealand. I was real and could help him.
Ugh, I hated thinking about it. Not knowing what he was feeling and thinking didn’t help, and since he had shut me out, I would just have to wait until I talked to him. The letter he had written me explained his reasons for leaving me, but there had to be more to it.
My dad took a drink from his coffee mug then set it back on the table. Patting his thighs, he motioned for me to sit on his lap like I was a small child.
I didn’t hesitate; I needed my dad’s support more than anything. He was, once again, the main man in my life, so I scrambled onto his lap.
“I’m sorry, honey. Your mom set me straight after she came home and I’ve been thinking about everything since we talked this morning.”
I hugged his neck and kissed his cheek. “Thanks Dad. I hope everything is fine with this baby. That is my main priority right now, even over Andy.”
“Speaking of that baby,” he said with a smile. “Let’s see that tummy. I heard it’s already starting to poke out there.”
Giggling, I stood from his lap and pulled up the hem of my shirt a bit, and the top of my yoga pants down to rest right under the slight roundness of my abdomen.
“Oh Zoey, I swear it wasn’t there last week when you were here,” he said as he placed his hands on my stomach.
“I know!” I was just as surprised as he was. “It wasn’t there one day, and the next, poof. There it is.”
His hands still resting on me, my dad scooted forward on the couch and leaned in closer.
“Hey in there, little baby,” he said in a low, soothing tone. “It’s your grandpa. We’re so excited to have you here, and I can’t wait to meet you. You’re going to be so beautiful like your mama, or handsome like your dad.”
Tears stung my eyes and I held my breath for a minute so I wouldn’t cry. “Thank you, Daddy,” I whispered as the tears rolled down my cheeks. So much for not crying.
I hadn’t called him “daddy” in ages. Memories from years before came flooding back to me. I had never had a dad until him. As a little girl, I always dreamed of being a daddy’s girl, like some of the girls in my class had been.
I wanted a big, strong dad to rescue me from my mom’s neglect. Someone to pick me up and swing me around until we were both so dizzy we fell down laughing.
Someone to show me how to be a kid. A dad to read me stories at bedtime, and tuck me in at night.
I confessed this to him shortly after I was adopted, and that very night, even though I was fourteen years old, he came into my room at bedtime and read me a story.
He had read to me every night for a year, and I loved him for it. He read all of the books nobody had read to me as a child. I didn’t care that at my age, he was reading me Snow White, Cinderella, and The Pokey Little Puppy. I had needed it. The bond that I had formed with my dad was unbreakable.
I hoped our baby would have the same bond with Andy.
We hugged until my mom came in and joined us. “I hate to break this up,” she said quietly as she touched each of our shoulders. “But dessert is ready.”
My dad and I looked at each other and smiled. “Race ya!” I joked as we broke apart then sprinted to the kitchen. I had a feeling he let me win.
The day that Sasha was to meet with Michelle was quickly approaching. Since we were swamped at the shop and the store, I was constantly going back and forth between the two businesses. After work, I ran around like a chicken with its head cut off visiting friends and family because I didn’t want to be home alone. I even made a few appointments to talk with Dr. Jensen even though I hadn’t needed to talk to her in quite some time.
Each day, I found myself taking a few minutes of time to sit alone and think about Andy and our baby. Most of the time, I ended up crying from missing him and keeping the news of our baby from him.
I also realized that I needed to take each day one at a time, and not let myself fall back to my old ways. It would not be healthy for our baby or me. I had a plan, and I needed to follow through with it, keeping as much of my sanity intact as possible. But, I also knew that I needed to face the loss of Andy in my life until I could get him back.
The day before we were to drive to San Francisco for our meeting, I decid
ed to stay home from work for the morning to pack a bag for my trip, and finish a few last minute chores around the apartment.
When my cell phone rang around noon, I knew by the ring tone that it was Noah.
“Hey, Noah.”
“Hey, baby sis, you busy?” He sounded anxious.
“No, just stepped out of the shower, what’s up?”
“You need to get over here to the shop right now,” he said, trying to keep his voice down. “There’s a woman over here asking for Andy.”
“I’m on my way.”
I threw my towel onto the bed and pulled a sundress over my head as I shoved my feet into the nearest shoes I could find. I ran a brush through my hair as quickly as I could and made it to the shop in less than five minutes.
As I entered the shop, Noah was coming down the hallway.
“Zoey, she took off,” he said, obviously annoyed. “I’m sorry, I tried to stall her.”
Shit! “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. Did she tell you her name?”
He shook his head.
Double shit! “What did she look like?”
“Shorter than you, mid-twenties I guess, dark hair.” He closed his eyes in concentration. “She was really dressed up—though. She had one of those big manila envelopes with her.” He opened his eyes again. “Sorry Z, I tried to stop her from leaving. I asked her to sit in the office to wait because we had customers in the lounge. When I came back in from calling you, she was practically running out the front door. She was mumbling something, but I couldn’t understand her.”
Maybe she left the envelope on the desk. I hurried past Noah and into the office. There was nothing out of place and no manila envelope.
Crap. Who was it? Based on the description Noah gave, she sounded like a businesswoman, maybe a lawyer? Maybe his ex-wife? But why would she be in Sacramento if she wouldn’t talk to him before?
“Z, I’m so sorry,” Noah said from the doorway. “I left her alone in the office to call you. I should have stayed with her so she wouldn’t leave.”