Meant To Be (The Destiny Series Book 1)

by Karen Stivali

  He walked her inside and waited as she put down her bag and coat and checked her answering machine. No messages. Her heart sank. Where the hell is Frank?

  “Do you need anything?” Daniel asked.

  “No, absolutely not. You’ve done enough. Go home and get some sleep. I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t even.” He cut her off mid-sentence. “I’ll check on you before I head to work later. First class isn’t until three today. Get some rest, okay?” He leaned his head closer to her stomach. “And that goes for you too,” he said to her swollen belly. “Give your poor mum a break, okay?”

  Marienne smiled, imagining him talking to her baby someday. She hugged him, her big belly crushing between them.

  “See you later,” he said, stepping outside. “Rest.”

  She nodded and closed the door behind him.

  She stared at the answering machine. How could there be no messages? How could the last four hours have happened without Frank knowing? Where is he?

  She grabbed the phone and dialed his office. The switchboard picked up. “His call light is off,” the operator said. “Sorry.”

  “Not your fault.” Marienne hung up, annoyed and worried.

  Why won’t he answer?

  She trudged upstairs, walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. As she took off her clothes, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was a mess; her eyes had smudges beneath them. She’d forgotten that she left the house straight from bed. She looked awful. Daniel saw me like this.

  She groaned and closed her eyes, cringing, but then she remembered the look on his face as he’d hugged her, the way he’d kissed her head. Her hand instinctively touched her hair. She could still feel his lips. She hadn’t felt judged; she’d felt loved.

  She scowled as she thought of Frank. She removed the last of her clothes and stepped under the warm spray of the shower, her tight shoulders relaxed beneath the soothing water and she attempted to wash the stress away.

  Feeling clean and fresh she headed downstairs. It was nearly eight.

  She started to dial Frank’s cell, then heard his car pull into the driveway.

  Her anger percolated as she waited for him to come through the door. By the time she saw him, sneaking in, sweaty t-shirt clinging to him, gym bag in his hand, she was at the boiling point.

  “Where were you?” She startled him so much he dropped his duffel on the hall floor.

  “Jesus. You scared the shit out of me.”

  She glared, arms crossed atop her stomach. “Well?”

  “What?” His eyes bulged.

  “Where were you?” Her voice was so shrill she thought she might attain a pitch only dogs could hear. And who were you with?

  “I was at work.” He stared at her as though she were crazy. “I fell asleep on my couch, woke up, ran to the gym, now I’m home. Why are you so freaked out?”

  “I’m, there’s, grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr….”

  “Jesus, Marienne. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with me but, well, I thought there was, and I couldn’t get a hold of you, and I spent the last few hours at the hospital.”

  “Hospital? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?” He moved toward her.

  “We’re both fine.” She felt exhausted.

  “Why’d you go to the hospital?”

  She told him the whole story—it all came pouring out. He listened, but when she finished, all he said was, “Well that’s good. Everything’s fine now.”

  So matter-of-fact. Like the whole experience didn’t matter. No words of comfort. No hug. No fear in his eyes. Granted, he was hearing about it after he knew it had all turned out all right, but she couldn’t help recalling the fear she’d seen in Daniel’s face.

  Daniel had tried to mask it, to keep her calm, but she’d seen it flashing wildly behind his eyes. He’d been worried, scared for her and the baby. Frank seemed unfazed. She brushed the comparison aside. “I was terrified,” she said, hoping to get some expression of emotion out of him.

  “You’re fine now. Shit, that must have been embarrassing, finding out you’d peed your pants.”

  “It was,” she admitted, though she was appalled by how much he was missing the point.

  “I’ll bet. What’d you tell Daniel? That it was false labor?”

  “No, I told him the truth.”

  “Eeesh.” He shuddered. “Well, I think I’ll be telling people my wife had false labor, if anyone asks. Hey, look, I’ve got a ten o’clock so I’m gonna hop in the shower and head back to work. I’m glad you’re okay.” He kissed her on the cheek before heading toward the stairs. “Hey, did the doctors say if this is likely to happen again?”

  “No, they just said it wasn’t uncommon.” She felt the need to defend herself.

  “Oh, okay. I was wondering if, you know, maybe you should try to be more… prepared… in case this happens again.”

  Her mouth clenched and her nostrils flared with indignation. He didn’t want to be embarrassed by something like this. God forbid he should be inconvenienced by her or her problems.

  “Don’t worry,” she said, glaring. “I’ll make sure not to urinate in front of any of your friends.”

  He closed his eyes and shook his head, then wordlessly ascended the staircase. She watched him go, waiting until he reached the bedroom door before she let the tears fall. She stared at her untouched glass of milk until she heard Frank rushing back down the stairs. She was still hurt and annoyed, but a part of her held out hope that perhaps he’d say something, anything, now that he’d had time to let the story sink in, time to realize how upset she was.

  He struggled with his top shirt button and disappeared into his office. He returned to the foyer, putting on his jacket, and grabbed his keys off the hall table. He walked toward her. Maybe….

  “Try to have a less eventful day, okay?” He kissed her cheek, and she recoiled. He didn’t seem to notice. “I’ll be home late. Dinner and drinks with the Millers straight from work.”

  She didn’t say a word, and he didn’t seem to mind. She watched in silence as he walked out the front door.

  “Idiot,” she said, not certain who she meant to direct the word to more, him or herself.

  She headed straight to the oven, turned it to 325 degrees, and started grabbing bowls out of the cupboard. She felt the need to bake. A lot.

  Chapter 32

  Daniel couldn’t keep from smiling as he drove home from Marienne’s house. He was beyond thankful that both she and the baby were all right. He didn’t know what he’d have done had things gone differently.

  He walked into the house to see Justine standing at the kitchen counter, a half drunk glass of orange juice before her. She slipped in her earrings.

  “How’d it go?” she asked, taking a sip with her precisely lipsticked lips.

  “She’s okay.” He was pleased that Justine cared enough to ask right away. “Bit of a false alarm.”

  “A false alarm?” She grimaced. “So her water didn’t break?”

  “Not exactly.” Daniel felt like he was betraying a confidence by discussing the specifics.

  “How the hell do you mistakenly think your water breaks?”

  “Apparently, it’s pretty common.” He chose his words carefully. “I guess when the baby gets this large it puts a lot of pressure on the woman’s bladder and sometimes.…”

  “Oh, my God.” Her eyes bugged. “She wet her pants?”

  “Well, technically, yes.” He felt the need to defend Marienne. Justine let out a short, loud laugh. “Well, you know, the baby weighs—”

  Justine interrupted. “This is why I am so not having children. It’s not even born yet, and look what it’s doing to her.”

  Daniel stared at her.

  She took another gulp of juice. “I mean, as if the weight gain and morning sickness didn’t make it unappealing enough, this takes the cake. No thank you.”

  He opened his mouth, but couldn’t form the word
s. He was trying to think of something to say about pregnancy or babies or motherhood that might sound appealing to Justine, and it occurred to him that there wasn’t anything.

  She would hate it all.

  The realization hit him like an unexpected punch. Sure he’d realized ages ago that Justine wasn’t the mother-Earth, nurturing type, and of course he’d heard her say that she didn’t have the ‘urge’ to be a mom that so many women seemed to have since childhood, but he’d always assumed she meant ‘not yet’. He now realized that she likely meant ‘not at all, not ever’.

  Daniel suddenly knew he really, really wanted children. He’d always known, but he’d never put it into such concrete terms. It occurred to him that if he stayed with Justine for the rest of his life, he’d never have any.

  “You look awful.” Justine interrupted his thoughts. She looked him up and down. “I can’t believe you have a job where you can get away with looking like that.”

  He stared at her, dumbfounded, as if seeing her for the first time.

  “You’re not blocking the driveway, are you?” She grabbed her purse, seeming oblivious to his reaction.

  He shook his head.

  “Good.” She unfolded her sunglasses. “Hey, she didn’t pee in your car, did she?”

  He went from dumbfounded to exasperated.

  She snorted. “I’ll take that as a no. That’s good too.” She placed the sunglasses on her perfect face. He watched in awe as his beautiful wife sauntered out the door. He’d never found anyone less attractive.

  Daniel knew he should try to sleep before heading to work, but he was too wound up. Instead he showered, trying to let the water wash away the feeling that had come over him when he’d spoken with Justine. Maybe once she sees their baby she’ll want one.

  He graded papers, sifted through the mail, and tried to decide how early would be too early to stop by and check on Marienne and still have it look as if he was popping in on his way to work.

  By noon he couldn’t wait any longer. He wondered if he should call first, but decided she might be sleeping. He didn’t want to wake her, so he drove over and knocked quietly. He peered through the glass window that bordered the front door and caught a glimpse of her in the kitchen, carrying a bag of something. He knocked louder.

  She heard it this time, and waved him into the house. The second he cracked open the door he smelled the brownies.

  “Oh my God,” he said. “It smells amazing in here.”

  She beamed at him as she stirred the contents of the huge bowl in front of her.

  “Let’s see.” He surveyed her countertop and pointed at the different pans. “Brownies. Oatmeal squares?”

  She nodded.

  “And…” He looked at the mixture she was stirring, narrowing his eyes.

  She held up a bag of chocolate chips and proceeded to dump them into her bowl.

  “Of course,” he said. “Chocolate chip cookies.”

  She nodded again, smiling as she plucked a few chocolate chips off the top of the pile with her slender fingers, and dropped them into his open, waiting hand. He grinned as he popped them into his mouth.

  “Which do you want first?” she asked.

  He moaned as he bit into a brownie. “So good.” He mumbled, mouth full of the gooey chocolate. He indulged in another bite. “How are you feeling?”

  She flushed. “I’m fine.” She stared at the cookie dough as she dropped spoonfuls onto the silver cookie sheet. “More embarrassed than anything else.”

  “Don’t be.” He tried to make eye contact.

  She held his gaze for no more than a second before looking back down, her cheeks flushing deeper.

  “I’m serious.” He put down the brownie and tried to think of a way to make his point to her. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. How much does the baby weigh now? Four pounds?”

  “Five.” She glanced at him, brow furrowed.

  “Okay then, so that’s like…” He stood and grabbed the open five-pound bag of sugar that sat on the counter. He rolled the bag shut. “That’s like having a bag of sugar sitting on your bladder all day.” He pulled his waistband away from his body, and shoved the bag of sugar down the front of his pants as far as it would go.

  Marienne’s eyes popped open. “What?”

  He waved a hand to quiet her. “Stay with me here. You’re basically walking around, twenty-four hours a day, with a bag of sugar wedged down your pants. More than that really, as you’ve already used some of this sugar, and you’re also smaller than me, but for all intents and purposes a close approximation.”

  She giggled.

  “And I guarantee you, if someone were to come up to me and press down on this bag with any amount of force I would instantly pee on your kitchen floor.”

  She scowled and bit her lip, but was unable to keep the giggles at bay.

  “Seriously,” he said. “Don’t try it, I would.”

  She laughed. He grinned so broadly his jaw ached.

  “You’re crazy.” She reached over and yanked the sugar bag out of his trousers. His grin became impossibly broader. “But thank you, you’ve made your point.”

  “Have I? Because if not, I’m fully prepared to pee on your floor to prove my statement.”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  “You’re sure?” He reached for the sugar bag.

  “Positive,” she said, now able to hold his gaze without having to look down at the cookie dough for comfort. “Sit down and finish your brownie.”

  He felt immensely pleased as he took another huge bite.

  He watched her make cookies for the next hour, then it was time for him to leave for work. She loaded a Tupperware full of brownies, oatmeal bars, and chocolate chip cookies.

  “Thanks for checking on me.” She walked him to the door and handed him the container. “I’d hug you, but I’ve got flour all over me.” And she did, streaks of flour graced the front of her black shirt, acting as highlights across her rounded breasts and swollen belly.

  She’s so beautiful.

  “I don’t mind.” He reached around her with his Tupperware-free hand and pulled her to him. She went up on tiptoe and reached around his neck, careful not to touch him with her floury hands, but hugging him tightly with her arms. She smelled, rather irresistibly, like vanilla and chocolate. He held her for a second longer than he intended, unable to let go, then forced himself to release her.

  “See you soon.” He promised, then, eyes dropping to her belly, he bent lower. “And you be good to your mum today, okay? She’s going to be the best mum in the whole world, and you’re very, very lucky to have her.”

  He walked to his car thinking about the last words he’d just spoken, and realizing that there was no truer statement in the world.

  Chapter 33

  Marienne looked at her reflection in the mirror and sighed. Her face was puffy, again, partly from being almost nine months pregnant and partly from yet another unexplained crying fit she’d experienced for the better part of the afternoon.

  Her breasts were swollen and heavy. They strained against the fabric of her maternity top, which only barely contained her ever-expanding belly. She turned sideways, as always awed by the sight of the huge bulge and the knowledge that her baby was the cause. As if sensing her thoughts, the baby stretched, pushing against her ribs, before contracting into a tight ball on her right side. Her tummy shifted noticeably. “Yes,” she said, rubbing the lopsided lump. “Mommy was thinking about you, again.” She felt a gentle thumping and smiled.

  “Did you say something?” Frank emerged from the bathroom, still buckling his belt.

  “Just talking to the baby.”

  Marienne had been talking to the baby out loud for several weeks, and she knew he found it bizarre. Frank knew better than to say anything. The one time he had scoffed about it had sent her into hysterics, so he never mentioned it again. He clearly still thought it was strange. She remembered what he’d said: “It’s a fetus, for Chris
t’s sake. Shit, kids don’t even listen to their parents after they’re born, why the hell would this one be listening now.”

  “You ready to go?” he asked. “I’m starving.”

  “Yeah.” She sighed again as she waddled toward the door. Her muscles were so sore and strained from accommodating the new dimensions of her body that sometimes it hurt to move. She was looking forward to getting out for the night, and she was determined to go to Daniel and Justine’s house.

  They drove, because even the walk through the backyard would have been too much for Marienne. The doctor had advised as much bed rest as possible and she’d been going crazy for the past three weeks. She wasn’t sure if Frank was working longer hours, or if it was just her perception because her activities were so limited. All she knew was that she felt insanely lonely.

  Time by herself was not a good thing. She was left with hours alone to contemplate everything—the baby, Frank’s ever-increasing work hours, their marriage. She often worried herself into an inconsolable state.

  She’d tried to talk to Frank, but that only frustrated him. Frank didn’t like problems he couldn’t solve, and offering comfort wasn’t something he did well. He told her she was worried about nothing. She felt foolish and unsupported, so she opted to keep her concerns to herself as much as possible.

  Her other friends were not much help either. None of her old girlfriends had ventured into motherhood yet, and she felt herself growing further away from them as their lives revolved around their careers and upcoming vacations and hers became increasingly focused on the new person about to enter her life.

  Justine seemed the most uncomfortable of all, and would change the topic whenever it came up. Justine’s whole body seemed to reject the idea of anything related to pregnancy or babies. The only person who listened intently to Marienne, who seemed interested in hearing about what she was experiencing and never failed to try to make her feel better, no matter what the issue, was Daniel.

  Daniel was nothing short of amazing. He’d been intrigued by her pregnancy since she first told him. The fact that he’d been so concerned about her that she’d felt compelled to tell him, even before she’d told anyone else, still touched her deeply. Unlike her other friends, who easily bored of hearing about the details, Daniel seemed to want to know everything. He often led her back to the topic even when she tried to steer away from it to talk about something she thought he might prefer to discuss.