by L. B. Dunbar
A kiss comes to the top of my head, and I want to look up at him. I want to return that kiss, but I can’t let go of him. Not yet. The backs of my eyes prickle, and I’m afraid if I glance up at those midnight eyes, I’ll break. Right here in the store, I’ll cry like a baby and tell him how much I love him. How much I appreciate him and need him by my side.
“I think you’re you, too, baby,” he whispers to my hair. “And I really like that about you.”
He’s so sweet. I don’t exactly know what he likes about me, but he’s still so sweet.
“Hi there. Is there something I can help you with?” a salesclerk greets us, and Bull’s head pops off mine. Still, he keeps me tucked into his chest.
“Can I answer any questions for you and your wife?” The salesclerk has a soft voice and glancing over at her, I see her smiling as she addresses Bull. I pull back, ready to correct her on our status, but Bull tucks me back to his chest.
“We’re interested in this one,” he says. “And do you have any bedding with little yellow ducks on it?”
This time, my head leans away from his chest, and he peers down at me.
“Yellow ducks?” I question.
“Isn’t that the one you were looking at on the internet with Rita?”
My mind blanks for a minute, and I want to blame pregnancy brain until I recall the first time Bull heard I was pregnant. When he came into the Busy Bean Café, and he overheard me mentioning it to Rita while we scanned baby products on the internet.
“That’s correct,” I say, surprised at his memory. Bull leans forward, pressing a quick kiss to my lips before pulling away and addressing the salesclerk.
“Then baby ducks, please.” Baby ducks and a burly cowboy. When did my life get so complete?
20
Parental Disapproval
Scarlett
My mother calls the day after my freak-out in the baby store, and because I’m riding a strange new high of emotion for Bull, I answer my phone. Bull’s gone to the dairy barn while I’m on my way to a maternity clothing store in Burlington, a little over an hour from Dunham. While I’m only slightly starting to show, I’m curious about maternity wear and think I might need some more stretchy materials soon.
“Scarlett Joanna Russell, where are you?” There isn’t any concern in her tone but a screeching demand to know my location as her voice filters through the Bluetooth. “It’s been almost five months since we’ve seen you.”
While I’m used to visiting with my parents once a month for a torturous lunch date, I’ve missed the last few due to my move to Vermont, which I find I must remind my mother of.
“I’m in Vermont,” I state.
“Still?” Her shrill voice doesn’t surprise me, but what does bother me is the fact she cannot believe I’m still where I told her I’d be. “What about Shelton?”
“What about him?” I snap in response.
“He’s your husband, Scarlett. When are you coming home?”
“Mother, we’re getting divorced.”
Her gasp tells me she wasn’t listening to me when I told her I’d be filing such a thing months ago. As I travel the highway through the countryside, I ignore the subtle hardening of my belly or the pain shooting up my spine. The technician said these things were normal.
“What do you mean you’re getting divorced?” my mother questions.
“I can’t believe I need to spell this out for you. Shelton cheated on me. I’ve already told you this. He slept with a medical student. He got her pregnant, and he plans to marry her. Which he can’t do unless he divorces me.”
“What’s this talk about divorce?” my father projects next through the line.
“Dad,” I groan, gritting my teeth through another tightening across my belly.
“Scarlett, you need to come home.”
Considering his words, I realize Boston is no longer my home. My home is here in Vermont, with Bull, with our future.
“Dad, I am home.”
“At your apartment?” Mother asks, and I realize I’m on speakerphone with them.
“No. My new home in Vermont.”
“You’re living there?” she shrieks again. I’m forty-two years old, and I do not understand what is so difficult for them to understand about this concept. I’ve moved. I’m getting divorced. And there’s one more thing I haven’t mentioned to them.
“Oh, and congratulations. You’re going to be grandparents.” I smile to myself, chewing my lip as I tell them the news. It’s the first time I’ve really broken the information to others. Audrey and Zara found out through my initial vomiting at work and Bull blurted it out with his brothers, so this feels different.
“You’re what?” The shock in my mother’s tone shouldn’t surprise me, yet it hurts. This is what they wanted. She told me I should have had a child. She told me I worked too hard. Although, those things were in reference to my life with Shelton.
“Strawberry, you must come home.” My father’s use of my childhood nickname pierces my heart. They were tough parents to please, tough parents to love, but they were the only parents I had. I wanted their approval. I wanted their love, but most of all, I wanted their support. “You and Shelton need to be together so he can take care of you.”
“Dad, he left me for another woman. He impregnated her.”
“Pfft. You’re his wife. He needs to be with his child,” Dad states, and I couldn’t agree more—if I was to remain his wife, if he was the father of my child, and if I wanted him. But none of those things are true.
“I’m not going to be his wife much longer. And it’s not his child,” I tell them because I’ve made a decision about that paternity test. Despite its results, it won’t matter. Bull is the man for me and our child.
“Did you have an affair?” Mother gasps. Is she listening to herself? Does she hear what she’s asking me?
“No, Shelton did.”
The other end of the line is silent for a second.
“Scarlett, first it was journalism school where you ended up working for that rag of a company for too many years. Then it was Shelton who you could not keep satisfied.” My mouth falls open at this remark from my father. “But this . . . this is just incomprehensible. How could you do such a thing? You’re a married woman.”
Not for much longer, I want to remind them again, but it’s like banging my head on this steering wheel my hands have white-knuckled. It’s not going to make the car move faster, or the reality of my situation seep into their brains any better. And it’s definitely not going to make them more sympathetic.
“Mother, Dad. I’m not in love with Shelton. I’m in love with—”
“Love,” my mother trills again. “What does love have to do with anything? Come home, Scarlett. You can go to marriage counseling and rectify what you’ve done with your husband.”
I’m so angry I can’t find the tears I should be crying over their accusations and their disappointment, but with the pain shooting up my spine and the trickle of something between my thighs, I’ve had enough.
“I’m sorry you can’t listen to me. I’m sorry you can’t hear what I’m saying, and I’m sorry you’ll miss out on a grandchild. I’m your daughter.” I feel the need to remind them.
“But Shel—”
“Goodbye, Mother. Dad.”
I’m not exactly certain where I am, but I pull to the side of the road and rest my head against the steering wheel. Rubbing a hand at the left side of my belly, I grit my teeth against the pain. I’m so angry I can hardly breathe, and again, I wait for tears that do not appear for them—my parents. I’m forty-two years old, and I’ve just had the epiphany of a lifetime. I’ll never be who they want. I’ll never conform to their desires for me. And they’ll never know the incredible gift I’m about to bring into the world because I don’t need that kind of toxicity around my child.
“Come on, Sprout. Be good for Mommy.” At my words spoken aloud, along with the future label, I burst into tears for an entirely differ
ent reason. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong.
With shaky fingers, I dial Bull’s number, waiting for it to ring through the Bluetooth. My belly contracts again hard, and I let out a hissing groan as Bull answers his phone. Before he speaks, I do.
“Oh God, Bull. It hurts so much.”
21
Bathwater Confessions
Bull
“Scarlett, where are you?”
The agonizing sound in her voice rips me in two as I stand outside the dairy barn. She should have stayed home to rest, but she was so persuasive, kissing me one more time every step to the door before I left this morning. She had the day off, and I’d have liked nothing more than to crawl back into bed with her, but the cows called.
Just going to do some personal retail therapy today. I didn’t question what that meant as she distracted me with cock-hardening kisses.
“I’m somewhere outside Burlington.” Her voice strains as the sound of her teeth gnashing fills the phone.
“Burlington?” I hiss. My heart races as Blade steps outside.
“What’s wrong?” he mouths, but I shake my head, swiping fingers into my hair. She’s almost an hour away.
“Scarlett?” Her sudden silence unnerves me.
“It really hurts, Bull.” Tears fill her voice.
“Sweetheart, please. Get to a hospital or an urgent care. Drop a pin on your phone, and I’ll find you. I’m on my way.” With the location finder, I should be able to track where she’s at as I’m already jogging to my truck. Stepping into it, I start the engine, and the phone clicks over to Bluetooth for hands-free driving.
“Sweetheart? Honey, talk to me. Tell me what happened.” As Scarlett explains the situation with her parents, irritation fills her voice, and the rising anger concerns me. I can hear her gritting her teeth through the pain.
“Never mind. Don’t think about them. Get to the urgent care.” I can’t search my phone to help her find a location near her while I’m driving, so I pull over for a minute. Finally giving her an address, I demand she go there and pull back on the road. “Just stay on the line with me until you arrive at the medical center. We don’t need to talk.”
As I drive too fast down the backroads, I will myself not to think the thoughts wanting time in my head. I will not allow my thoughts to go to the negative place where dreams are lost.
“You’re going to be okay,” I assure her as she grunts again. “You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever known.”
Scarlett hisses, and I hear a blinker through the phone.
“I’m here,” she whimpers, indicating the immediate care facility. The pain in her voice is so raw my insides split, and I continue my white-knuckle driving.
“I’m on my way, sweetheart.”
When the line goes dead, everything in me seems to shatter, and I holler at the empty road before me, sending up a prayer for all to be well in the end.
Arriving in the small town just outside Burlington in under forty minutes, I find Scarlett resting in a room, hooked up to an IV.
“Sweetheart, I’m here,” I quietly tell her, swiping a hand over her head once I reach the side of the bed.
“Bull, you really came for me.” The doubt in her voice almost shatters me again, and I see her release a long breath as if she’d been holding it the entire time she’d been here. She curls toward me, and a sob escapes her. I wrap my arms over her as best as I can without knocking the IV line.
“Shh,” I attempt to soothe her as her body shakes and her quiet sobs rattle underneath me. “Tell me you’re okay. Tell me everything.” Tell me Sprout is still well inside you.
“The doctor said it was dehydration. Along with the previous day’s procedure and the stress of what happened with my parents, I had false contractions.”
“And Sprout?” I swallow around the question.
“He’s fine. He’ll be happier once this fills my system.” She glances up at the bag hanging beside her. Her eyes are red-rimmed, and her cheeks, void of color, are stained with tears. Continuing to stroke over her hair, I brush it off her forehead.
“Where were you going in Burlington?”
“I wanted to look for maternity clothes.” Her eyes still glisten.
“Sweetheart, I don’t want you going anywhere without me.”
“I’m fine now. Better even. It was just a little stress and too little fluids.” I want to address the stress part but decide it can wait. Cupping her hand with both of mine, I pull it up to my lips, close my eyes, and set my mouth against her knuckles. My heart still hammers inside my chest. I swear I might need the bed next for the heart attack she’s given me.
“We’re getting a hotel for the night,” I tell her. “No argument.” We’ll leave her car here overnight, and I’ll return tomorrow with one of my brothers once I have Scarlett home. Home. In my house. Where she belongs.
Quietly, we wait out the drip and her discharge with strict orders for rest the remainder of the day. The urgent care doctor will pass along what happened to Scarlett’s regular doctor, where she’ll need a follow-up in a few days.
After her discharge, we stop at a pharmacy where I run in to buy basic necessities, a random assortment of snacks, and a package of underwear at Scarlett’s request. Finding a quaint bed and breakfast, I’m grateful for the midweek vacancy.
Leading Scarlett up the creaking stairs of the older inn, I can’t take my hands off her.
“I’m not an invalid,” she admonishes, but I’m not letting her go.
“You’re following my orders now, sweetheart.”
“And suddenly, you’re a doctor?” she teases.
“Yes, and I’m not past examining every inch of you once you’re better.”
“I’m fine.” She sighs. “Just worked up.”
“We’re going to unwork you.”
The antiquated room with a four-poster bed and an old fireplace appears to please Scarlett. She climbs up on the bed while I drop the bags with our measly wares on a rocking chair in the corner.
“How about a bath?” I can’t seem to sit still and need something for my hands to do. Before she even answers, I’m entering the bathroom and filling a large clawfoot tub. Next, I return to the bedroom to help Scarlett undress despite her protests.
“Scarlett, dammit. Let me take care of you.” I need to do something as I’ve been coming out of my skin the past couple of hours. Sensing the strain in my voice and my nearness to breaking, she sits back as I remove her sandals and massage each foot a second. Guiding her to stand, I slip her dress upward and marvel at the swell of her belly, which is more apparent when she’s naked before me. Her hand coasts over the bulge, and mine meets hers.
“Any movement?” I hold my breath.
“I think Sprout’s resting. He’s had a workout this morning.” Her weak voice does nothing to settle my concerns. In her bra and underwear, I lead her to the bathroom and then remove the final pieces exposing her larger breasts and a soft patch of curls at the top of her legs. The changes to her body only increase my attraction to her, and I’m grateful there’s more change to come. She’s beautiful while pregnant.
Helping her into the tub, I hang onto her as she lowers into the steamy water. I’m still unsettled, but Scarlett calmly sits upright, swishing her hands back and forth through the warm liquid.
“Bull, I know I’m getting bigger, but do you think you could join me?” Her dark eyes plead with me, and I read the fear of her thoughts equal to mine. It’s going to be a tight fit in that tub, but I tug my shirt over my head.
“Anything for you, sweetheart.” Quickly, I strip the remainder of my clothes and wedge myself behind her. I warn my body to behave as Scarlett does not need to be worked up in any way. As we melt into the warmth of the water, she leans back against my chest, and I massage her shoulders.
“I want you to tell me everything, but only if you can stay calm about it.”
Scarlett begins her story of the upsetting phone call, and I find I’m the one
struggling to remain quiet. Silently, I seethe. Her parents have unbelievable balls. The betrayal from the people who should have loved her unconditionally is incomprehensible, and I’m disappointed in the couple I’ve never met. A couple who will be my child’s grandparents. For a moment, I’m grateful once again for the parents I had. While I know their marriage wasn’t perfect, it was pretty close, and they were amazing role models. For all the trouble I’d been and put them through with my relationships, they never judged me. Their support meant everything to me over the years.
“I’m forty-two years old, and they can reduce me to a fourteen-year-old child in a heartbeat. I feel like I’ve been caught stealing or kissing.”
“As long as you’re stealing kisses from me, I don’t care what age you are. Nor do I care what they think of me. What they did to you is wrong, Scarlett. You see that, right? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
I don’t like that they accused Scarlett of having an affair or even the hint of nefarious relations with me. While I can’t say Sprout was conceived in love, he was definitely conceived by two people who want each other, who care for one another, and who will be here for him every step of the way.
Scarlett shifts, struggling to twist a bit in the tub between my thighs and her changing shape.
“Bull, honey, why are you so good to me?” Her hand cups my jaw. “You say the right things, and you came for me today.”
Because I love you.
“Anything you asked, I’d do for you, Scarlett. I care about you, and I care about our baby.” My hand covers her belly, waiting on a little kick to let me know things are okay in there. While technically she didn’t ask me to come to her today, I’d never let her suffer as I felt she was earlier. I’ll always be there for her and the baby.
“Thank you for today. And all the other days ending in day that you do things for me.” Her sincerity stirs my insides as her thumb swipes along my jaw.