Together Again

by Aria Ford

  “Um, mister,” I said respectfully as I went to the door.

  “Uh huh?” he asked, looking up at me questioningly.

  “If you, er…need anything. Like, any help with anything, or something…please call me.” I gave him my number. He nodded.

  “Thanks, son. Appreciate it. Always good to have some help.”

  “Thanks,” I nodded.

  We looked at each other for a moment and it felt like we shared something—by admitting he needed help, he had let me in. And I had walked into that space with respect. It was a level of regard I’d shared with few people. I nodded again.

  “Bye,” I said awkwardly. “Thanks for the coffee.”

  “Pleasure, son. Anytime. And…” he paused with a grin. “I reckon the Hensley’s have a tractor, if you want to loan one.”

  I nodded. “Thanks,” I called over my shoulder. “I’ll ask.”

  As I drove away, I found myself wondering how much he’d guessed about my motives and whether or not he knew the tractor was a ruse all along.

  The short distance between his house and mine I spent thinking about Kelly and considering what he’d said about her. The description her grandpa had given: wild, free, outdoors-y, was exactly the woman I knew. I wondered if he was right, that she was unhappy and stressed out.

  The more I thought about it, the more I found myself wondering if she would be terribly offended if I turned up out of nowhere.

  When another two weeks had passed and I had no word at all from her, and when I found myself still missing her, I declared it a time for action to be taken.

  I went online and checked flight prices. There was one in a week’s time that seemed reasonable and arrived at a good time. I booked.

  I was going to visit her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Kelly

  I had lived with the secret for five weeks. I hadn’t told anyone. Not my mom or my friends or anyone at all. I still had no idea what to do.

  This was a big decision. And I was not going to make it lightly. Though even as I thought that, I knew my mind was made up.

  I was keeping this child.

  It was a Saturday and I was sitting at my table, looking out of the window over the city far below. It was a hot summer day, the sky scrubby with cloud. I was cool but I was restless. I didn’t know whether I should tell Reese.

  I pulled out my phone and called my mom. It was afternoon and I was hoping that, even if she was working on a project, she wasn’t on site right now.

  “Mom?”

  “Kelly! Sweetheart…” I heard her familiar voice, high and happy. “How are you?”

  “I’m okay,” I said. I could hear my voice sounded sad and I couldn’t do much about that.

  “Are you sure?” she asked quickly. “Just give me a minute, sweetie…I’m just going inside. I’m on site at the library.”

  “Okay…” I paused. “Just don’t go in the library. You’re supposed to be silent when you’re in there.”

  She laughed. “I’m going into the truck.”

  “Okay.”

  A moment later her voice came on again. It had a bit of an echo but nothing bad. “Hello?”

  “Mom. Hi,” I said. “I…I’ve got a decision to make. A big one.”

  “Mm?”

  “And I…I’m just having trouble deciding whether or not I should tell someone something.”

  “Oh.”

  I like my mom. She doesn’t ask questions or pry. She just invites conversation.

  “Well, you see…” I continued slowly, “I’m afraid that if I do, I’ll be forced into a decision I don’t want to make.”

  “Oh.” Her response was quick. “If you think whoever it is will be pushy, don’t tell them. It’s your choice, whatever you’re choosing…so don’t end up blaming someone for pushing you into a bad decision.”

  I let out a long breath. “You’re right.”

  “Well, I think so,” she said soothingly. “Now. What do you think of chrysanthemums and grass?”

  “Is that dinner or…” I couldn’t resist.

  “No!” Mom laughed, indignant. “It’s what I want to put in the flower-bed outside the library.”

  “What sort of grass?”

  “Tall, frond-like grass.”

  “Sounds good,” I said, approving. “The colors will look good together.”

  “Mm,” Mom sounded pleased. “That’s what I thought. Thanks.”

  “Not at all.”

  “I hope I helped with your decision?”

  “You did,” I said. “I don’t want to blame someone for pushing me into anything.”

  “No,” Mom said. “It’s good to hear from you. I missed you while you were away.”

  “I missed you too.” I had missed her input of fun-filled chaos in my life.

  “Aw. Thanks, sweetie. Now if you’ll hang on a minute, there’s a guy here with a wheelbarrow of fresh mulch. I need to tell him where to go with it.”

  I laughed. “Sounds serious. I’ll leave you in peace to deal with that.”

  “Are you sure? I’ll just be a minute.”

  “It’s okay. Bye!”

  “Bye.”

  After I had hung up I sat for a while thinking about what she’d said. I didn’t feel ready to tell her yet. But after her advice I knew I wasn’t going to tell Reese.

  If he said he didn’t want me to keep this child I’d feel I had to get rid of her. Or him. And I don’t want to.

  That was that. I was keeping her. I wouldn’t tell anyone. Not yet.

  Now I have to decide what to do next.

  My mom always said that the best way to make a decision was to write things down. I looked at the paper before me. So far I hadn’t written a lot.

  Maternity leave. Health scheme. Creche up the street. Daycare.

  Those were the bits I had in place. The other bits, the bits I wasn’t sure of yet, were written in pencil. School fees. Tutors.

  Those were the parts that were far in the future—a good six years away at least. I wasn’t going to let those worry me. Not yet. The immediate needs were addressed.

  In my heart, there was a sea of other things, unaddressed and unwritten. Unfathomable.

  The fact that this was my and Reese’s child. That our love—and I knew now it was love, though I guess I realized that after too long—made a life was the most awesome thing. The speculation about what this child would be like when he or she was born. And, overwhelmingly, the way I already felt about her.

  I already feel like she’s a her.

  That was enough to make me make up my mind. I was lucky that all the basic stuff was taken care of and that I didn’t need to consider whether or not I could support this child alone. I could. I had the luxury of choice and I was going to choose yes. She was my baby and she was being born. I just wasn’t going to tell anyone. Not yet.

  “Dammit,” I said loudly. I pushed away the chair and stood. I was grinning, though. My dilemma was finished. No more questions.

  “This child is getting born.”

  I felt my excitement then. I smiled and sat down on the sofa, my joy flowering in my heart like a delicate rosebud. I loved this daughter of mine. Or this son. I was going to carry them and give birth to them.

  I felt excited.

  As I sat there, wrapped in my own excitement, I imagined what it would be like. What I would like to give my daughter—or son—most. Oddly, I imagined that what I would most like them to have was a free childhood. Not on concrete, under a fog-wreathed sky. But on grass, under stars.

  That was my parenting vision. Somehow, I wanted that to happen. I had five years, I guessed, to work that out.

  “I can do that.”

  I stood and went to the counter and dug out the new capsules for the coffee-machine. I felt like a celebration. I was rummaging round in the topmost cupboard, looking for the cookies my mom had bought me that I’d been saving for a special occasion, when I heard it.

  “Who the heck is that?”


  I frowned. Why would someone ring my doorbell on a Saturday afternoon? It might be the courier, except that I wasn’t expecting a delivery of anything. Miller, maybe. Or the postman. Or Nick. I pressed the button for the gate and then went back to the kitchen. I took out the cookies and opened the box, set out a cup of coffee and put some cookies on a tray. My front door buzzer announced that whoever it was had arrived.

  “Hello?” I wasn’t altogether fond of the idea of letting a stranger into my house. “Miller?” I called. “That you?”

  “It’s me,” a voice said. My blood tingled. Why did I recognize that voice? It’s not…I took a breath and opened the door.

  I stared. It couldn’t be! It can’t be. How can it be?

  “Hi,” said Reese.

  I took a step back. Then another. Sat down heavily on my own plush sofa, coffee forgotten.

  He was there in my doorway with a smart suit and an embarrassed smile, and in his hand was a bunch of carnations.

  “Reese.” I half whispered it. How did he come to be here, now, thousands of miles from the farm where I had left him?

  “Kelly,” he said with that half-nervous expression, as if unsure of his welcome. He paused. “I’m…it’s not bad of me, to visit? Yes?”

  I sighed. Covered my face with my hands. At that point I wasn’t sure whether or not to laugh or cry. My heart was rejoicing but at the same time I was so cross with him I wanted to shake him. How dare he walk back into my life with no warning like this? Had he no idea of how many times I had fallen asleep with tears on my cheeks, wishing I could have seen him once more? How dare he!

  “Um, Kelly?”

  “Reese,” I said thinly, my palms still covering my mouth, muffling the exchange.

  “What? You’re not mad? Tell me you’re not mad at me?”

  I sighed. Then, surprisingly, I laughed. I took my hands away from covering my face and looked up at him. He was looking at me with that tentative grin and I couldn’t contain my amusement.

  “Reese!” I yelled. I stood and held him against me, squashing him to my chest with all the strength of my annoyance, hurt and love. “You’re here! But…how’d you find me?” I was amazed. All my emotions had transformed into a big ball of absolute wonder that lit up inside my chest. I was laughing and crying and I embraced him.

  He chuckled and held me against him. “Uh, Facebook.” He mumbled. We were both laughing and tears streaked down my cheeks and it was as if all the time between now and when I saw him last had melted away.

  “Sit down,” I demanded as he let me go. “I was just making coffee. How many sugars again?”

  “One,” he said. He was looking up at me with such an expression of gentleness that I felt my heart melt.

  I bustled off to the kitchen to fix the coffee and I could feel my cheeks hurt with my big grin.

  When we were seated in my sitting-room with the cookies and coffee on a tray between us, I cleared my throat.

  “Reese,” I said. “I don’t know how you got here, or how you found me. But I’m glad you did.”

  “Really?” He smiled. He looked so earnest, as if he didn’t expect a good reception at all, that I had to laugh.

  “Absolutely. Now,” I said, clearing my throat. I still had no idea how to tell him but I knew that I was going to have this baby. It was a miracle that he was here to hear my news—that was the only way I could describe it. I swallowed hard. “I need to tell you some news.”

  “What news?” he asked. He had a cookie in one hand and coffee in the other. I looked at him, trying to figure out what to say. He looked so innocent. He lowered them to the table. Looked at me.

  “Reese,” I said slowly. “I’m expecting your child.”

  He stared at me. His expression went from elation to wonder to confusion and back to joy again. He jumped up and hugged me. “No way!”

  I laughed. “It’s true!”

  He was chuckling now. “But how?”

  I was giggling at his surprise. “Dear, you know by now how babies happen,” I teased.

  He went red. He was still grinning. We were both laughing together, our arms round each other.

  “My dear,” he said. He looked into my face, and his own eyes were unashamedly full of tears. I coughed, feeling my throat ache with the pain and beauty of how much I loved him right then.

  “Well, now you know.”

  He stared at me. “It’s the most amazing thing…” He shook his head, lost for words. “I’m going to be a dad!”

  He was sitting with such a silly expression on his face that I laughed. “Well, yes. That’s how it usually works.”

  He grinned and ruffled my hair, and then he put his hands on my shoulders, looking into my eyes.

  “You’re going to be an incredible mother. I can’t believe you’re doing this. You’re wonderful.”

  I sniffed, feeling my eyes suddenly wet. I tried to say something but the words wouldn’t come up and coughed, clearing my throat. “Well, you’re going to be an awesome dad,” I said finally. I had not thought he would be, but now I knew. His reaction had shown me he was absolutely ready for it.

  He smiled at me again. He bent forward and, very gently, kissed my mouth.

  Then he leaned back on the chair and looked at me. “How…how do you know?” he asked.

  I chuckled. “Well, I must say I suspected a few weeks ago already. And then I did a pregnancy test, and two weeks later another one, just to make sure. And now I know. It’s early yet, you know, and anything can happen, but…” I cautioned.

  “You went to a doctor?” he asked. He looked worried, as if the condition of pregnancy might be highly dangerous. I laughed.

  “Well, I plan to. Not yet.”

  He looked at me with big eyes. “You must have told someone…” he trailed off.

  “No,” I shook my head. “Just you.”

  “Oh, Kelly…”

  He kissed me again and then we were tumbling back with me held against his chest. He looked up at me with a worried frown.

  “We shouldn’t…should we?”

  I roared with laughter. He gave me a confused frown and I pulled myself together, burying my face in his chest to stop the giggles.

  “Oh, Reese,” I said. “We don’t have to worry about that.”

  “Really?” He looked pleased, if slightly uncertain whether or not that was right.

  “Not for months.”

  “Oh.” He smiled. “Well, then.”

  He kissed me and this time it was anything but restrained. My body ached for his and I realized afresh how much I had wanted him those past weeks. My groin throbbed with longing and my arms ached to hold him.

  We went to my bedroom and it was several hours before I thought of anything but him and his body and my body.

  “How long are you staying?” I asked.

  “It depends,” he said softly.

  “Depends?” I asked.

  “On how long you want me.”

  “Forever.”

  He looked into my eyes, and the utter disbelief was there. He smiled at me, and again I saw the faintest glimmer of wetness, quickly vanishing.

  “Oh, Kelly.” he said. “Me too. Oh, Kelly.”

  He kissed me and I kissed him back and we lay like that until the night was dark and for once even the yellow glow of streetlamps on cloud had its own special presence.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Reese

  The next morning I woke up with my heart more full and overwhelmed than it had been as long as I could remember. I felt warm and at peace.

  I heard breathing beside me and reached out to stroke a hand down Kelly’s body. She stirred and a smile crossed her lips, fleeting and small, but enough to tell me that she was awake, so I curled up on one side and held her in my arms.

  She snuggled back so that we lay with her butt pressed up against my hips, my face at her neck. I held her against me and drifted into sleep.

  Later, when I woke again it was to feel her han
d on my skin. She was holding my fingers in her hand, squeezing gently. I woke and quested sleepily forward, kissing her hair.

  “Good morning,” I whispered. She smiled. I heard her lips move and smiled too.

  “It is a good morning,” she said.

  “A Sunday morning.”

  “Yes.”

  That was the best thing. We could lie there together and watch the sun come up and hear the city coming awake below us. I had never lived in a big city before—not a really big one anyway. The sound of traffic—the hiss and roll and honk—was new to me. I wondered how she got to sleep here nights. Though I had to admit with a blush that I had managed to do that fairly well.

  I guess I was tired out.

  I kissed the side of her throat and she rolled over, pushing that soft body against me. When she was facing me, we kissed. I stroked her hair.

  “It’s good to be back,” I said. I meant it. I’d longed for her.

  “It’s good to see you again, she mused. “And not just see you, either.”