“I missed you,” he whispered to her as he began to thrust, “I missed you, Holland.”
Cynthia nodded in agreement, unable to speak. She pressed her hips against his. Waves of pleasure radiated through her body. She rolled over, forcing herself on top of him. Coop smiled. He held onto her hips as she rode him with long strokes.
“I’ve wanted this,” he said breathlessly, “I needed this ever since I saw you in that unbelievably sexy red dress.”
Cynthia smiled at that. She knew that had been the perfect dress. She leaned forward and grinded her hips harder against his. Coop sat up, forcing his shaft further into her. That sent her over the edge. She screamed, letting the feeling of bliss take over her body completely. She gripped Coop’s shoulders and kissed him hard until they both were finished.
Naked, they laid next to each other for a few moments, catching their breath. Coop slid Cynthia’s wedding ring off her finger and tossed it onto his bedside table. It thumped onto the worn wood surface.
“That looks heavy,” Coop observed.
“You have no idea,” Cynthia responded, running her fingers through her hair and propping herself up onto her elbow to look Coop in the eyes. The sheets clung to her naked body. Cynthia felt reborn. She was alive again, lying in bed with Coop again after all these years.
“My mom said you went over to the neighbor’s house,” she said cautiously, returning to the original intention for the visit.
“Yeah, I did. She’s beautiful. If she is ours, and I’m still not sure, but if she is… we made one hell of a kid.”
Cynthia smiled and looked around the room. It was a little dark. The beige carpet was stained in places, and she had a feeling it hadn’t started as that shade of beige, but had become it over time. There was a curtain rod, but no curtains hung from it. She assumed that Rose had taken them when she left. The bed itself was on the floor; it was really just a stacked mattress and box spring. The walls were completely bare. The closet, which was open, was barely a walk-in. Cynthia smiled. She had never felt so content. She was at home lying next to Coop. She rolled over and rested her head on his chest.
“I love you,” she said, quietly.
“What?” Coop replied, and he gently brushed a strand of hair from her face.
“I love you,” she said again, a little louder.
“Hmm?” He rolled her onto her back and climbed on top of her, smiling.
“What did you say? I think I’m having trouble hearing…” he trailed off, kissing her as she giggled.
The piercing ring of Coop’s phone cut through their tender moment. He looked at the caller ID.
“It’s your mom,” he said.
“That’s weird,” Cynthia said, her curiosity getting the best of her, “see what she wants.”
“Hi, Nancy. Yeah she’s—sure. Hang on.” Coop put the phone on speaker and set it on the bed between them. Nancy’s frantic voice filled the room.
“There was a cop here. Well down the street. At Bunny’s house. Roberta saw him looking in the windows so we went down to see what was going on. He said there’d been a car accident, a bad one. They got the address off their car’s registration but they didn’t have any other information, so they sent him to see if anyone else was home or if there was anything there that could help them. Clive was driving he got the worst of it and… they took Bunny to Mercy Hospital but…” Nancy choked through a few sobs before she was able to continue.
“But they don’t think she’s going to make it. He said by the looks of it the only one with a chance was Tara.”
Coop was already up and pulling on his jeans. Cynthia couldn’t move. She sat up but stayed on the bed, her body was numb. If she had tried to get up, she feared that her legs wouldn’t hold up underneath her. She couldn’t comprehend anything that was going on, let alone move as quickly as Coop wanted her to.
“Mercy you said? We’re on our way. Be there in twenty.”
He reached down and hung up the phone. He picked up Cynthia’s clothes, which were scattered around the room, and dropped them onto her lap.
“Get dressed, let’s go get our daughter.”
Our daughter. Those words snapped Cynthia out of her haze. She got dressed as quickly as she could. She reached for her ring and held it in her hand for a moment hesitantly before returning it to her finger.
In the kitchen, Coop was running his hands along the chipped granite countertops, frantically searching for something.
“I can’t find my keys,” he said, in a panic, “shit. Rose took the car. When she left she took my car.”
“That’s ok, we can take mine. Come on.”
She grabbed Coop’s hand and they hurried out the door.
They cut through the lawns that separated their houses. Cynthia thought for a fleeting moment that she shouldn’t be holding hands like this with Coop for the neighbors to see. But that feeling was trumped by her need for support right now, especially from someone who understood what she was going through.
It had only been a few days since seeing Coop had forced her come to terms with acknowledging her daughter’s existence. Then she saw Tara for the first time and something inside told her that the child was hers. Seeing her for the first time, she realized she had missed out on so much, so many years of her daughter’s life had gone by without her involvement. And now she could miss out on everything. She couldn’t bear the thought of it. They had to get to the hospital.
Cynthia and Coop finally crossed onto her property. They raced inside to get her wallet and keys. The keys were on a table in the entryway. As she reached to pick them up, she saw Glen standing to her right, by the foot of the stairs, motionless. He was wearing his after work casuals, which consisted of jeans, a green sweater, and brown leather loafers. Her stomach plummeted.
“Glen, hey.” She said, softly. She dropped Coop’s hand.
“I’ve been looking for you, Cynthia. I called.”
“Glen I… we have a lot to talk about.”
“Looks like we do,” he replied, turning his eyes to Coop.
“But right now we... we have to go.”
“What? No. Cynthia you can’t just—”
“Look,” Coop cut in, “we can sort this all out later, sit down and talk about everything, but right now we really have to go.”
“Cynthia, no. I deserve an explanation. Is this where you’ve been all day? Out with… him?” Glen spat, as if it disgusted him to say it.
“Glen really, I…” Cynthia put a hand on her chest and tried to think. She needed to get out of this house, but how could she convey that to Glen? How could she break it to him that she had to attend to something more important than their relationship?
“If you walk out that door now, without even giving me a reason for all of this,” he swept his right hand towards Coop, “then… well…”
“Glen, we really do have to go,” Cynthia said, as patiently as she could. She turned towards the door.
“Well, then, don’t think you can come back here,” Glen said, as authoritatively as he could.
“We won’t,” Cynthia replied. The door slamming behind her reinforced the weight of what she had said.
She knew those two words would destroy her already struggling marriage. She hadn’t meant to insult Glen like that. He deserved better than her parading into his house hand in hand with Coop and refusing an explanation. After all the years they had known each other and the vows they had made, she never wanted to end things with him this way. But in this moment, she couldn’t slow down to deal with him. Nothing mattered, nothing other than her daughter.
Cynthia pressed the keys into Coop’s hand and they ran to the car. He got into the driver’s seat and sped out of the driveway towards the hospital.
Truthfully, she thought as she and Coop drove, she was glad for the out Glen had given her. She didn’t have the time to explain anything to him, nor did she really want to. Honestly, it was easier for her to walk out of the house than to sit down and deal with
a breakup.
They rode silently, aside from an occasional half finished utterance; the only sounds were the roar of the engine and the click of the blinkers. Neither of them dared to wonder out loud the extent of what they would find when they arrived. A trip that normally took twenty minutes only took them ten, but it still felt like an eternity.
They left the car at the valet and raced inside.
“Where’s Tara?” Cynthia gasped as they were stopped at the reception desk.
“Last name?” The receptionist replied. She held her hands over her keyboard and turned her eyes to them, waiting for their reply.
Coop and Cynthia were silent. They looked at each other for one frantic moment, each trying to come up with Clive and Bunny’s last name.
“We’re her parents,” Coop pleaded, putting his hands down on the table and leaning in slightly.
“Parents who don’t know her last name?” The receptionist deadpanned, glancing at the security guard.
“She was with her parents. They were DOA. Nice try.”
The receptionist motioned for the security guard to come closer.
“We’re her birth parents, she was adopted.”
The receptionist didn’t respond. Instead, she addressed the security guard.
“Bryce, can you please escort these people—”
Cynthia didn’t hear the rest. She had seen a gurney in the hallway behind the counter. A few doctors and nurses were pushing it in the opposite direction, deeper into the hospital. She saw a tuft of brown hair. It had to be Tara. Cynthia grabbed Coop’s hand and pulled him past the receptionist’s desk towards the gurney. They heard a doctor addressing the group as they approached.
“Right now, we just have to control her bleeding. We think it’s some kind of clotting disorder—”
“Von Willebrand Disease,” Coop jumped in, to Cynthia’s surprise, “I have it; it’s genetic.”
“Yeah, that could be…” the doctor stopped walking and flipped through the pages of his reports.
The security officer had just caught up to Coop and was pulling on his arm.
“I’m sorry, Doctor, these two should not have gotten past the front desk. We’re taking them out now.”
“We’re her parents,” Cynthia said again. She squeezed one hand around the metal railing of the hospital bed and rested the other on her daughter’s hand. Cynthia wrapped her fingers around Tara’s for the first time since she gave birth to her over six years ago. She looked so small and helpless laying on the gurney in front of her. In that moment, Cynthia would have done anything to take her place.
“Is she going to be ok?” Cynthia asked,
“The birth parents?” The doctor said, ignoring both the guard’s protests and Cynthia’s question.
“Yes,” Cynthia replied, keeping her eyes on her daughter.
“They can stay; we may need them. Claudia,” the doctor continued, addressing nurse, “take some blood from these two and compare it to the patient’s.”
Cynthia caught Coop’s eye. For a moment, they shared a jolt of excitement. They were about to get their answer.
“Nothing personal,” the doctor said, “we just have to be sure.”
“Of course, yes, anything,” Cynthia said, looking at Coop. He was already rolling up his sleeve.
Claudia, a heavy set brunette woman in her mid forties, led the two down the hall. Cynthia reached for Coop’s hand. He held hers tightly. They both stared straight ahead, following a nurse who was about to give them news that would change their lives.
Claudia finally stopped and held a curtain open for them. Behind it was a chair with a small table attached, like the ones students took tests on in high school. Cynthia sat down first. She stretched out her arm and rested it on the table to stop it from shaking. This was the most nerve-wracking moment of her life. She had been through so much in the last few days, and she was about to have a question that had plagued her for so long answered.
She reached out her hand without taking her eyes off Claudia, who was preparing her needles. Coop stretched over and held it. She took a deep breath in as Claudia came over and drew her blood.
“Is she going to be ok?” Cynthia asked again, hoping that Claudia would give her an answer.
“Unfortunately, I can’t say,” Claudia said. She signed and looked at both of them. She pulled the needle out of Cynthia’s arm.
“But now that we know what’s making her bleed the way she was… well, it’s looking up.”
“Thank you,” Cynthia replied. She started to cry and reached out to squeeze Claudia’s shoulder in thanks. Coop pulled Cynthia out of the chair and into a hug. She noticed tears falling from his eyes.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” he said, to both her and himself.
Claudia quickly drew Coop’s blood and wrapped his forearm in an elaborate bandage to curb his bleeding.
“Okay,” she said, “follow me.”
Claudia led them down the maze of hallways until they emerged back in the waiting room.
“Wait—” Cynthia began to protest.
“I’m sorry, but she’s in surgery. You have to stay out here.” Claudia replied, giving them a sympathetic look before disappearing back into hallways of the hospital.
The next two hours crawled by. Cynthia and Coop sat motionless for most of it, only shifting when the discomfort of the stiff chairs became too much.
About halfway through, Coop whispered intently to Cynthia.
“So what now? I mean I don’t want to seem… but, do we… do we just keep her?”
Cynthia hadn’t thought about anything like that. She thought about it from a legal perspective; she hadn’t accessed this knowledge since law school, but after a moment she remembered.
“Well, they have to see if there’s a will or not. I’m sure there is, but if it hasn’t been updated in a while, and… it depends on who they’ve appointed guardian in the event of their death. If those people don’t want to take on the responsibility, or if a judge deems them unfit, then we could step in and offer our services.”
“Okay,” Coop’s face fell a bit. Cynthia sensed that her answer had discouraged him.
“But at the end of the day it’s whatever best for Tara. The goal is to have as little disruption in her life as possible.”
“Like moving down the street?” Coop said hopefully, and Cynthia smiled.
“Hopefully,” she put her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
A woman walked into the waiting room and approached the front desk. She was wearing a wrinkled, bulky white button down that was tucked into ill-fitting khakis. Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail. She leaned down and mumbled something to the receptionist as she shuffled papers out of a folder in her hand. Cynthia saw the receptionist point in her direction. The woman nodded her thanks to the receptionist and came over towards Cynthia and Coop.
“Hi, I’m Nadia Turner,” she said, extending her hand.
Coop stood and introduced himself. Cynthia did the same.
“I’m a social worker, the staff here called me in to work on Tara Robison’s case. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”
“Of course, we’ll answer whatever you want. We want to help anyway we can.”
“Great, thank you,” Nadia sat down across from Cynthia and Coop and spread her papers onto the table between them. She put a tattered yellow notepad on her lap and threw a pair of drugstore reading glasses on.
“Okay, so… you two are her birth parents?”
“Yes,” Cynthia responded for the both of them.
“And what was the reason for giving her up? Unstable home life? Money issues?” her eyes drifted to Coop’s tattoos. “Drug problems?”
“No,” Cynthia replied defensively, “nothing like that. Just—well I was young, and I was off to law school, and we were having problems so… I don’t know. It was just bad timing.” She could feel her face getting red. s
“Okay, no problem, no judgments here, I’ve
seen it all,” she made some notes on her pad.
“So you two are married now?”
“No,” it was Coop’s turn to answer now, “no, we’re…”
“Engaged? I see you’re wearing a ring,” Nadia smiled encouragingly.
“Well no, I’m… I’m married to someone else, but...” Cynthia let go of Coop’s hand, “we’re having problems.” Cynthia regretted that answer as soon as it was out of her mouth.
Nadia paused, seeing if Cynthia was going to continue, then made a note on her pad. Cynthia was boiling hot. She was mad now. She could see the kind of picture their answers were painting. A couple who found the timing of a child inconvenient and gave her up because it was best for them, not because it was best for the child. Now they were reunited in an irresponsible affair. And while these observations were factually accurate, they didn’t tell the full story.
“Look,” Cynthia started, “I know how this sounds. We… we’ve messed up. We’ve made mistakes. I get it. I look like some selfish young mother who didn’t want to sacrifice her own education to deal with a child. And now I’m trying to live out some fantasy by having an affair with the guy who knocked me up. But listen, please. You have to understand that there’s so much more to our story. We were meant to be a family all along. We fell off track but we’re finally starting to get the hang of things. My marriage is over, and Coop and I, we…” Cynthia froze. She knew what she was going to say, but…
“And once it’s all finalized we’re going to get married,” Coop chimed in, picking up Cynthia’s hand and squeezing it.
“We are?” Cynthia smiled and let out a quick nervous laugh.
“Do you want to?” Coop asked.
“Well, yes, of course,” she laughed again, “I just never imagined being asked like this.”
Romance: Pummel Me: A Boxing Romance Page 18