by Lulu Pratt
He still has a hold of my hand, and as we crest the parking lot, the smell of salt water wafts through my nostrils. The sound of waves lapping at the shore also appears as if from nowhere. As I look down, I spot the coastline.
“So, I was right,” I chime in. “It is your old make-out spot.”
“Only sometimes, I had a lot of spots to choose from,” he jokes. “Now come on.”
He lets go of my hand and sprints down the old wooden steps and onto the beach. I laugh at how enthusiastic he is, and I follow.
The sand is coarse on my feet, but I love the feeling. I follow him along the beach to the water’s edge, where he has stopped. He stares out across the water, and the moonlight bathes itself over him. He turns and waves me over.
“I can’t believe how long it has been since I was here last,” he says as I walk to his side. I reach him and take his hand in mine. “It’s got to have been more than fifteen years now.”
“What?” I ask, surprised. “Why so long?”
He pauses for a moment and looks back out across the water. There is a look in his eyes that I don’t recognize. Is it pain?
“The last time I was here was with my high-school sweetheart. And that was also the time she broke up with me.”
“Oh,” I say simply, surprised by the admission.
“Yeah. I thought we were in love. You know how it is in high school? But she dumped me and then I never saw her again.”
“And you never tried to see her again?” I ask.
I don’t know why I ask that. I know that he didn’t and I know that his story is a lie.
“No, she is dead.” He sounds remorseful as he speaks, and for a second, I almost believe him. “It happened a few months ago. I couldn’t believe it when I heard a few weeks later. I always saw her as the one who got away, and a part of me always thought I would see her again. But now… I’m sorry. You probably don’t want to hear any of this.”
He’s right. I don’t. In fact, it actually makes me a little angry, and I can feel myself starting to run hot. How dare he say such things, pinning it on my sister? And how dare he act now like he was the one who was the victim? After what he did?
I have to work to control my anger. I can feel it bubbling up inside of me.
“That’s too bad,” I say coldly as I look out across the water. I don’t look at his face. If I do, he will probably see the anger etched across it.
“Yeah, it is,” he agrees. “But no matter. I have you now.” He still has my hand, and he lifts it up and kisses the back of it. I seethe. “Is everything okay?”
“Oh, yeah, of course,” I say pleasantly, trying my best to not let him know how I am feeling.
Even I don’t really know how I am feeling. Angry, yes. But also confused. It’s a fight between my loyalty to my sister and my feelings for Blake. Until recently, I could almost lie to myself and say that the two hadn’t dated, and I was mistaken. But now that he has said it openly to me, I can ignore it no longer. And I have no idea how to feel.
I am bad company the rest of the night. Blake does most of the talking, and I smile and nod. A few times, he tries to kiss me, but I make some sort of excuse as to why he can’t. I swat away at a fly or pretend to sneeze.
When the awkwardness becomes too much, he suggests that he take me home, and I agree. I don’t want to stay in his company any longer tonight. Not until I have a chance to think over everything.
The car pulls up in front of my apartment, and I can feel the tension. He turns off the car and turns to look at me. I try my best to avoid his eyes.
“Well, good night,” he says, and he leans in to kiss me.
“Goodnight,” I say hurriedly, and instead I reach for the door handle, pop it open and jump out before he has a chance to say or do anything.
I need to be away from him. I need time to think. I don’t know what I should be feeling, but I do know that it isn’t good. I just hope that tomorrow, everything will be clearer. But as I walk to my front door, open it and enter my lonely, empty apartment, I realize that isn’t going to be the case.
Chapter 33
BLAKE
I stare at my phone and wonder if I should call.
I have not spoken to Carrie all week. Not since our date last Saturday. The date itself started off great. The idea was to show her a different side of me, one who isn’t this rich guy. And I was sure that it was working. She seemed to be having a great time.
Then it all went to hell.
I still can’t bring myself to call.
I have spent the whole week going over that night in my head, trying to decipher what went wrong, but I just can’t figure it out. Did I say something, do something? Did I not do something?
One minute, we were laughing and having a good time, and the next, she was cold as ice. I think of that look she gave me as she got out of my car. It was a look of hate.
I hope that is in the past, though. I have spent the week convincing myself that she was just in a mood or upset over something else. Consequently, I have spent the week avoiding contact, letting her cool down.
But today is an important day, and I have no choice but to see her.
Today is the first day that she is potentially able to take the pregnancy test. Usually, it doesn’t happen this fast, but I made a few phone calls and got a hold of a very expensive, off-the-market test. The two of us were going to do it together.
We had spoken about it often, but that was before last week. Now that I haven’t heard from her, I can only assume that she hasn’t taken the test yet and is waiting for me. If she even expects me to be coming over at all.
The phone is still in my hand. I sigh to myself and put it in my pocket. I’m not going to call her. That is too impersonal.
I stand up from the edge of my bed, and I make my way through the hotel room to the front door. I am going to see her instead. Face to face. I just hope that by now, she has cooled off.
***
Today, her apartment looks even more run down. I’ve been sitting in the car, watching it for the last five minutes. By my side, I have a bouquet of flowers, coffee and donuts.
I was going to get her chocolate cake, but I thought that might have been a little too obvious. A little too manipulative. Instead, I have settled for a different treat. Really, I am just trying to ensure that she is in a good mood.
Taking a deep breath, I reach for the door handle, pop it open and climb from the car. The walk to her front door feels like it takes forever. It’s only a short walk, but with every step, I remember that look on her face, and I shake my head as if trying to dislodge the memory.
Reaching the door, I knock twice. Two hard and firm knocks. I can hear movement from inside. I brace myself as the door opens.
“Oh, hey,” Carrie says with a half-smile.
“Hey,” I respond. “I brought you these.” I hold out the flowers, coffee and donuts.
“Wow, thanks. You didn’t have to.” Her voice isn’t as cold as it was the other night, but it isn’t as warm as it used to be, either. There is definitely some tension here. I can feel it.
“I wanted to,” I assure her. “May I come in?”
“Oh, right.” She shakes her head and steps to the side. I walk into the apartment, feeling slightly better about the situation.
“So, today is the day,” I say as I make my way to the kitchen. Reaching it, I put the coffee and donuts down on the counter and begin to search through the cabinets for a vase. “Do you have anything for the flowers?”
“I doubt it,” she calls to me. She’s in the bed area, doing God knows what. Usually, I wouldn’t give it a second thought, but today, it feels like she is avoiding me on purpose.
“Well, I’ll have to buy you a vase, too,” I say with a smile.
She isn’t looking at me and, therefore, does not see it.
“You really don’t have to do that. But hey, I’m surprised that you remembered today.”
She walks from her bed to the kitchen area. Sh
e scoops up the coffee, which she takes a long, satisfied sip from.
“Really?” I ask with a frown. “How could I forget? It’s a pretty big deal. You haven’t, you know. You haven’t tried yet have you?”
“You actually got here just in time,” she says, offering me a weak smile. “I was going to. I wasn’t sure if you were coming around, and we haven’t spoken, so…”
The tension in the room mounts as she makes the first reference to the other night on the beach. I feel as if she wants to talk about it. And I do too. Well, kind of. I want to know why she got so angry, but I’m also afraid I won’t like the answer. So instead, I deflect.
“And it isn’t too early?” I ask. “The test will be accurate?”
“According to the packet,” she says, and she looks relieved at my change in the topic. “I mean, you’re the one who bought them, but the packet says it’s ninety-six percent accurate, six days before a missed period. Well, yeah, it should work.”
“Good,” I say, nodding my head to myself. “So, shall we? I mean, shall you?”
“Sure,” she says, smiling awkwardly. She turns and heads to the bathroom.
When she does, I stumble to the couch and fall into it. I can’t believe how awkward this is now. Up until the previous week, the two of us were getting along so great. The idea of having a baby together seemed the most natural thing in the world.
Now, it feels as if I am doing it with a total stranger. I just hope that once she takes the test, and if it is positive, we can move on and forget that the whole thing ever happened. I just want it to be like it was before.
But there is nothing I can do now. I sit on the couch, and I stare at the closed bathroom door. I hold my breath and wait.
Chapter 34
CARRIE
The bathroom has a cold, isolating feel to it. I walk to the toilet and pull the test from its box. As I do, the four walls seem to close in around me. The seriousness of the situation and everything that I have been doing the past few weeks is suddenly beginning to feel very real. But oddly enough, it’s still better than being out in that room with Blake.
The worst thing is that it isn’t even his fault. Not really. I mean, yes, what he did to Lyndsey was his fault. The way she told me about it, how he dumped her without a second thought. He didn’t care.
Before I met Blake, I had a totally different picture in my head of what he would look like. And what he would be like. So now that I know who he really is, my emotions are conflicted.
I have felt awful all week. The way I treated him on our date wasn’t fair. I know it wasn’t. I treated him like some sort of evil entity, without even letting him know why. No wonder he hasn’t spoken to me all week. In fact, I didn’t even think he was going to come over today. Maybe a phone call or a brief text and that would be it.
But he has come over. And with gifts, too. It’s so incredibly sweet of him. Ever since I have known him, he has been nothing but kind and caring. It’s because of this, that I don’t know what to think. I can’t imagine that Lyndsey was lying, but I also can’t imagine that Blake would do what she said he did.
I look down at the test in my hands. I’m sitting on the toilet, my pants down, ready to take the final leap. With a deep breath, I stick it between my legs and pee.
As I am doing this, I’m wondering what I should do about Blake. I think I will do my best to pretend that I don’t know the things I know. At least, until the baby is born. If I am going to do this, and be with him for the next nine months, I need to be civil. I need to help melt away the tension that has risen between the two of us. Even in the bathroom now, I can feel it, emanating through the door.
I stand from the toilet and still hold the test in my hands. It is going to take two minutes to activate and give me a reading. I can’t stand here for two minutes, though. That is going to be agony.
What I will do instead is go outside, take Blake’s hand in mine, and wait with him. It is time to start repairing the damage. For the sake of the unborn baby, if nothing else.
I put the test down on the counter, flush the toilet and wash my hands. I take a deep breath and open the bathroom door.
“What did it say?” Blake asks, the moment that I step into the room.
“Nothing yet. It’s going to take two minutes. I’ll check it then.” I walk to his side, take his hand in mine and sit down on the couch. He falls in beside me.
It’s funny, but I can already feel the tension melting away. We sit in silence, neither of us saying anything. But it doesn’t feel like there is a need to speak. I hold his hand, stroking it with my thumb. He reaches across and clasps my hand in both of his. I look up at him, and he at me. We both smile at one another.
The last week has been agony, and when Blake arrived at my house only a few minutes ago, it was incredibly awkward. But sitting here now, holding his hand in mine, I feel all that fade away. It’s as if we have both suddenly remembered why we are here.
“So,” he says after some time. “Has it been two minutes?”
“It has,” I say simply.
I pull my hand from his. He releases it, albeit with some hesitation. I stand from the couch and slowly walk to the bathroom. The short walk feels like it is taking a long time. Every step is slow and precise, as if I am walking a tightrope.
I can see the test, sitting on the counter. It seems to be calling me, taunting me even. I reach out for it, and as I do, it’s as if the room extends in length, and the test moves away from me. I shake my head, clearing my thoughts as I clasp it in my hand.
Taking a deep breath, I look down at the tiny test in my hands. There are two blue plus signs, as clear as day. It takes a second for the realization of what this means to sink in. I stare down at the positive reading, silent.
“Well?” Blake asks from the other room. His voice is gentle and nervous. He is probably even more nervous than I am.
I turn around. He is standing there in the living area, with his arms crossed. I hold the test up to show him. Of course, he can’t see a thing from that distance.
“It’s positive,” I say, my voice cracking a little. “We’re pregnant.”
If us holding hands earlier helped relieve the tension, my announcement all but banished it from the room. Blake stares at me for a second as the news washes over him.
“What? Are you serious?” He reaches me, wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me in the air. “Oh my God! We’re pregnant! I’m going to be…”
“You’re going to be a father,” I say.
He spins me around in his arms, laughing as he does. I laugh, too. I laugh so hard that I am almost crying.
“And you’re going to be a mother,” he says, dropping me to me feet. He has tears in his eyes, but I can barely see them as the tears in my eyes are so thick and come so quickly that everything is a blur.
Without even thinking, without even caring, I lean forward and kiss him. And he kisses me back. It’s a tender, joyous moment. It’s a personal moment. It’s one, that right then, I would not want to be sharing with anyone else.
Despite all that has happened over the past week and how I felt about Blake up until this morning, right now, none of that matters. Right now, I only care about one thing, and that is that I am having a baby.
Chapter 35
BLAKE
I can’t believe it. I seriously can’t. Even as I stare down at the test for what I think is the tenth time at least, I am still in total awe.
Honestly, I still have the test in my hand. I am still looking at it. Those two plus symbols are right in my face, and all I can do is gawk. Even Carrie, who still has her arms wrapped around me, is an afterthought at the moment. I am just so damn happy.
“So, should we celebrate?” Carrie asks. “I would suggest Champagne but that seems inappropriate.”
She leans over my shoulder and looks down at the test in my hand.
It’s incredible the effect that good news can have on somebody. Up until five minutes ago, I was
seriously doubting if I had made the right choice with Carrie. Sure, everything leading up to the previous few days was perfect in almost every way, but her sudden flip in attitude and the tension between us all but canceled that out.
But from the moment she came out of the bathroom, all that began to change. And now, it seems as if it had never happened at all.
She is smiling, she is happy and she is jokey. I am, too. There is zero tension, and again, I am glad that I chose her to do this with.
“How about we just have some breakfast instead?” I suggest. “I’ve been told those donuts are pretty special in their own right.”
“Sounds good to me,” she says.
As she does, she kisses me on the neck and takes her hands off my waist. The kiss was warm and natural. The last few days were a bad dream and nothing more. I am now lucky enough to be living in the reality.
I watch her stroll around to the kitchen, and I can’t believe how pretty she looks. Her cheeks seem to be glowing, most likely from the tears and her eyes are a bloodshot red. Yet, she is still perfect in every way. I can only imagine how amazing she will look when she is showing. Beautiful, I am sure.
She reaches for the coffee, and I suddenly remember something.
“Wait!” I say, a little too loudly.
“What?” She asks, looking at me in a panic. “What’s wrong?”
“The coffee,” I say, and I nod to the cup she holds in her hands. “Are you allowed to drink that? Isn’t caffeine bad for the baby? Actually, it was idiotic for me to even bring it over here in the first place.”
“That’s not true,” she scoffs, and again, she goes to drink the coffee.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“That’s not sure,” I say.
“Hmm,” she says, biting her lip. “It’s a shame we live in 1987 and not 2017. Otherwise we could go online and – oh, wait a minute, this is 2017!” She speaks in a dramatic fashion.
She puts down the coffee. I watch as she rushes from the kitchen.