When You Make It Home

by Claire Ashby

  “Unbelievable!” Theo roared with anger, but he moved when Cortez pushed him toward the door. Cortez gave me a slight nod and pulled it shut behind him.

  Jason and I sat in the waiting room of the Emergency Room and watched as people a lot worse off rolled through.

  “Has it been hard?” he asked me. The words came out nasally, and he couldn’t keep his hands off his nose. He had an ice pack in his lap, but instead of using it, he was busy poking at his nose and checking out his two black eyes with my Mac compact.

  “Not as hard as I thought it would be.”

  “You think it’s wise to have those guys hanging around? I know I don’t have much to offer, but I still don’t want to think of someone taking advantage of you. You said you’d call if you needed me.”

  “I don’t need you, and those guys have been here for me. They’ve never wavered.”

  “Meg, I wish I didn’t get you pregnant.” He’d finally put the compact down and was watching me with a look that took me back to our shared youth.

  “Don’t say that now.” Without a thought, my arms curved around our child, hidden under a curtain of fabric, protected by the layers of my flesh, thriving on the blood of my body. “I can’t regret this anymore. This baby is wanted. I love her, Jason. I know this wasn’t a plan, but I won’t regret any of it. She is not a mistake in my life.” I thought of Theo and all he’d done, all his excitement. I didn’t need Jason. His friendly ways and charm kept me from getting angry with him, but the fact was, Jason never considered how his actions affected anyone but him. I had let him get away with everything, because he validated my secret fear that I didn’t deserve to have someone love me with all his heart. Jason’s actions gave proof that what I had to offer was not enough to make someone stick around.

  “I’m glad. I’m glad for you. A part of me wants to go home and never come back. I know you don’t need me. But that baby is mine.” He shifted in his seat and stared at his shoes. Jason was better at leaving than staying. “I was hoping you’d be okay if I stopped in from time to time. You can tell the baby whatever you want. But I can’t ignore that she came from me.”

  He was thinking of himself, not the baby. His ego kept him focused on what his needs might be and how he could fulfill them. The reality left a bitter taste. But I wouldn’t erase Jason’s existence from our child’s life. She could form her own opinions of her father. Maybe she would deem him selfish, or possibly she would find him captivating, like I once did. But that would be her choice. For with every beat of my heart, knowing that the woman who brought me into the world was out there cultivating her own life with no desire to be a part of mine… It’d been devastating.

  “We’ll figure something out.” I sighed, worn out from the highs and lows of my week. I forced optimism into my voice. “I don’t want her to lose the chance to know you. Look, I’m sorry about your nose, but Theo’s not going anywhere. You have no say in the matter.”

  Jason whipped his head up to glare at me, and his lip curled. “What could you possibly see in that guy?”

  “He’s amazing. He shouldn’t have hit you, but you walked in, and you had your hands all over me. Imagine how you would feel.” Even in the chill of the hospital waiting room, heat prickled my cheeks. I grabbed a battered copy of Time from the seat next to me and fanned my face.

  “I didn’t mean anything.” Jason spoke in an insolent tone.

  “When your wife was pregnant, how would you have reacted if an ex-lover came up and rubbed her belly?”

  “Okay, you got me there. I’d want to kick his ass, but I wouldn’t. We can’t pretend we don’t have a past.”

  “Doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Really?”

  “Come on, Jason. How many times have we walked away from each other? I want you to be a part of the baby’s life. But when you come into my life you’re a guest and nothing more.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Really. I’ve moved on. Cancun was as much my fault as yours. I shouldn’t have slept with you, but I was still searching for answers from so long ago. I never got any closure, not with the way you left. I don’t know why I still searched after all that time. It was stupid, stupid on my part.”

  “I’m sorry, Meg.” He cradled his head in his hands and stared at the floor. He groaned. “My wife is going to kill me when she finds out about the baby.”

  “You haven’t told her?”

  “No, and I don’t want to face it tonight. Can I crash at your place?”

  “I’ll be here when you get out,” I promised, as the nurse came to take him back.

  While Jason was getting fixed up, I called Steve and told him what happened.

  “How do you always get yourself in a mess with that guy?” Steve asked.

  “I don’t know.” And I really didn’t. Was it Jason, or was I a magnet for trouble? As with every time before, I was certain I could make everything right for everyone. “So can he stay the night with you?” I asked. No way was I bringing him back with me.

  “That’s not a good idea, Meg.”

  “Please? I’ll make it up to you.”

  “I do this, and you owe me, big time,” Steve said.

  “Fine. I have Theo at the condo, and Jason can’t drive back to Houston tonight. Once upon a time, you and Dad loved Jason. Just tap into that reservoir.”

  “Whatever.” He covered the phone and mumbled to someone. At first I was surprised Dad would still be up so late, but then I heard the rustle of sheets and a woman’s voice. Mystery girl was in his bed.

  He came back on the line. “Sure, bring him by. But if you give me any attitude about anything when you get here, I’ll kick you both out.”

  “Deal.” I didn’t care who he had in bed, other than looking forward to finally meeting her.

  By the time Jason had his nose set and was ready to go, it was almost midnight. He looked nasty and probably felt worse. He wasn’t too excited to crash at Steve’s place. The last time they had seen each other was back in college when Jason and I were still an item, but their childhood friendship had already faded to dust.

  Steve opened the door, wearing plaid pajama pants and nothing else. Behind him, in the plaid pajama top that came halfway down her thighs, stood Chelsea—my Chelsea—with bed-rumpled hair and a this-is-better-than-cake smile on her face.

  “Chelsea? No, no, no.” I turned back to Steve, and my brain snapped the missing pieces together. “Steve, how could you?” I stammered, looking from one to the other. “You are not allowed to sleep with my friends!”

  “Keep your deal, or Jason’s going back to your place.” Steve took in Jason’s appearance. “Man, you look like shit.”

  Chelsea threw a dispassionate glance at Jason, but rushed out on the porch to hug me. “Be happy for us,” she murmured in my ear as she pulled me inside. “This is a good thing.”

  “Okay, okay. If it’s so great, why didn’t you tell me?” I scanned the front room, and the space seemed different. Dad’s presence—his reading glasses on an end table, his shoes left under a chair, the newspaper folded haphazardly on the footstool—helped calm me.

  “Because you expect everyone to follow your rules.” Chelsea pulled my focus back on her. “And I didn’t want to tell you. Anyway, you had secrets first.” Her sweet voice sounded as childlike as the words she said. “This is between the two of us. We chose to see where this was headed before going public. Plus, all the hush hush of a secret lover—you’re not the only one who gets off on that rush.”

  “Ew. Don’t use the phrase ‘getting off’ when you’re talking about Steve.”

  Chelsea rolled her eyes. “Come on back.” She strutted down the hall to Steve’s kitchen— the kitchen of my childhood—moving on tiptoe as if wearing invisible high heels, her bare legs sending me in a surreal flashback to when Nina
moved in, before she married Dad. I flushed with a territorial heat, but the house I grew up in was no longer mine to claim.

  “Don’t be mad, Meg,” Chelsea said when she looked back at me. I would never have placed my dark-haired, saucy friend with my blond jock of a brother. They didn’t match in any way, and they had absolutely nothing in common.

  “What do you see in him?” I didn’t mean to imply Steve wasn’t a catch, because he was. But I didn’t think any of my friends were looking to reel him in. I wanted to see it from her angle.

  “He’s so sweet and funny and quite the romantic. Plus, he’s amazing in the sack—”

  “Stop!” I covered my ears.

  “Fine. We’ll talk about it when you’re ready.” Chelsea took my hands and squeezed them in hers. She spoke softly to me, “I make him happy. He’s different with me than the other girls. You’ll see.” I stifled my groan but followed Chelsea back to the living room. I was done. The night had been long enough, and I was ready for a do-over.

  Jason sat dazed on the couch next to a blanket and pillow. Since Dad was crashing in Steve’s spare bed, Jason had to make do in the living room. His swollen face looked terrible, but from my experience with Theo and pills I could tell Jason was feeling no pain.

  “See you later, Jason,” I said on the way to the door.

  He smiled at me and tipped over sideways onto the pillow, curling his feet behind him.

  “It’s late. Go home,” Steve said. He put his hand on Chelsea’s hip, pulling her close. “We’ll take good care of him.” He kissed the top of her head, before reluctantly letting her go and following me out into the starlit night.

  “Did Theo cool off?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. He’s not answering the phone.” I shook my head. “I can’t believe he broke Jason’s nose.”

  Steve clutched his middle, laughing.

  “What’s funny?”

  “I owe Theo a beer. I’ve been wanting to clock that guy good for years.” Steve opened my car door. “I don’t blame Theo. Go easy on him. He means well.”

  “I hope this means you’ll be nicer to him.”

  “I’ve got nothing against the guy. I’m only looking out for you,” Steve said.

  “Well then, go convince Jason he deserved it, so he doesn’t reconsider pressing charges against Theo.”

  “Don’t worry about that. Jason will be put in his place in the morning. I’m very much looking forward to it.”

  Before I pulled out, Steve told me he’d drop Jason off at my condo in the morning, to get his car. I figured Jason would head home to his wife and weave some kind of story to explain the busted nose and black eyes. He needed to tell her everything, but I knew the truth could sometimes be so frightening you didn’t know how or when to stop running from it. But those were his problems. I had issues of my own to contend with.

  Driving along the quiet roads on my way home, I stopped at a red light and saw a man sleeping in the doorway of a church. He was filthy, his clothes stained with dirt and grime. He was somebody’s baby. Where was his family? Why was he stranded? His head rested on a backpack that I realized was identical to Theo’s army pack. Theo had told me how many men came home from war to find out they had nothing worth holding onto. What an insult, to fight for your country—to be willing to give your life, a life surrendered to duty and honor—and after all the sacrifices, your world was you alone with your possessions only piling up high enough to rest your head on.

  The man in the silver Volvo behind me honked, and I slammed my foot on the gas, jerking forward, my mind torn away from imagining an unknown man’s desolation and back to the festering turmoil of my own drama.

  Lost in my head, replaying the night while the rest of the drive home flashed by, I ended up parked in my lot, brooding. I finally left the car and walked across the lot with my eyes fixed on the condo door. My footsteps echoed, uncanny in the night.

  I found Theo hunched over on the floor with a bucket of water, scrubbing away Jason’s bloodstains. Five empty beer bottles lined the coffee table.

  “Hi,” I croaked, holding my breath, waiting for him to turn, wordlessly pleading with him to face me.

  With a deep, shuddery breath, I edged around him and perched on the sofa to watch. How would we ever shake the gloom that settled all around? He scoured the floor, not daring a glance my way. Despite Theo’s concentration on fixing the mess, his posture screamed of barely bottled rage. His jaw twitched. He clenched a bloodied cloth in his fist, drowning it in the steaming bucket, choking the excess water out of the limp rag, and he continued to scour.

  “Theo…”

  Pain etched his features, and his eyes slid shut.

  I scooted a little closer to him. “You know, Jason has a right to know about the baby.”

  His eyes snapped open, and he gave me a curt nod.

  “He’s the baby’s father, after all. It’s only natural for him to be curious.”

  “Absolutely,” he said with an overly agreeable tone that sent the little hairs on the nape of my neck tingling. Still, he would not look at me.

  “To be honest, I’m relieved Jason wants to be a part of her life.” I was sure I could convince him—maybe even convince myself—that everything was fine. I looked down at my body, hugging my baby bump. “He is a part of her.”

  Theo dropped the rag in the bucket, wiped his hands on his shorts. “I’m very aware of that, Meg.” Theo pushed the bucket and scrambled forward. He slid the bucket three feet across the floor and did a modified crawl to the bathroom with both hands on the ground, his single leg extended behind him. His crutches, propped against the sink, mocked us from ten feet away. Absentmindedly, I came up behind him and reached for the bucket.

  “Don’t you dare,” he growled.

  Stepping back, I cleared my throat and stared while he shuffled to his destination. He poured the rust-colored water into the toilet, tossed the rag in the trash, and sat on the edge of the tub to clean out the bucket. He reached for his crutches, pulled himself up, and washed his hands at the sink. After splashing water on his face, our eyes met in the mirror. I caught him soften for a beat, and then he seemed to look through me.

  “Don’t bother with the details.” Theo toweled off. “I get it. He’s the daddy.”

  “But that changes nothing between us,” I said.

  My mother’s abandonment marred my childhood, my entire life. Not having my mother’s love made it hard to believe I was worthy of anyone’s love. I thought about telling Theo how it pulled me down and ripped me to shreds every time I spent the night at a friend’s house or engaged in one of a billion activities that screamed: a mom should be there. But my mom was gone. How could I make Theo understand? This was my lot.

  “Jason has nothing to do with you and me.”

  He looked at me as if I was crazy, moving past me to the laundry room. He scooped a load out of the dryer into a basket and kicked it across the room. Crutches forward, step, and kick basket onward. I followed him to the bedroom where his duffel bag loomed, half filled, on my bed.

  “What is this?” I blurted, putting my hand to my head.

  “I’m done with the baby’s room. It’s time for me to go. That was the plan.” His words were spoken like a mantra; he hauled the basket of clothes up, dumping them in a pile on the bed.

  Don’t leave me.

  “That was the plan?” My voice cracked, eyes burning, my vision blurred.

  Finally, Theo touched me—he put his hand on my shoulder. “I lost control. I’m sorry… but I have to go.”

  “Put Jason behind us,” I pleaded. “Don’t go.”

  Theo gathered his folded boxers and tucked them in his bag. “He’s behind me. His needs don’t concern me, and I don’t see why they concern you either.”

  “What about th
e baby’s needs? She has a right to know the man she came from.” My frustration flared, and I punched his arm so he would look at me. I needed him to see me. “I don’t know what my mother looks like. I can’t remember anything about her, and when I dream, I need to see her face. I want to know why—why she didn’t love me enough to stay. I don’t want my baby to have that kind of life.”

  “I know.” Theo’s exhaustion came through in his words. “I don’t want that for her either.” He continued to fold his shirts meticulously, filling out his bag.

  “Don’t do this.” I touched his arm, and he flinched.

  Don’t leave me.

  He moved to the bathroom with his travel bag in hand and loaded up his shaving cream, toothbrush, razor, and deodorant from the vanity. He zipped the bag and tossed it in his duffel bag. “Meg, I have to go. That’s the way it is. I’m in the way, and if I stay, my demons will pull you down.”

  “That’s not true!” I wailed, my throat raw. “I want you.” I grabbed his arms, my fingers digging into his biceps, forcing him to look me in the eye. “I am not afraid of your demons—I am not afraid of you.” And finally I let out what I always thought he knew. “I do not care about your leg!”

  His face crumbled, his arms came around me, his head fell to my shoulder, breath quickening, deep gulps of air filling his lungs, and his chest heaved. “But I care.” As though the words grounded him, he pulled back, composed. “You’ll be fine.” Theo’s eyes filled with pain. “You’re surrounded by people who care about you. If you need anything, go to Cortez.”

  “Where will you go?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “How can I get in touch with you?”

  “I’ll call you,” he said. “Trust me—it’s better this way. It will be harder the longer I stay.”

  “No Theo, don’t do this to me. I love you. Don’t leave.”