Solid

by Jettie Woodruff

  By ten in the morning, the anticipation just about killed me. I tried to read, tried to clean some windows, tried to come up with a new recipe, and then tried to relax in a hot tub of lavender scented bubbles. Nothing. I gave up and went for a walk, ending on the top of one of my favorite places. The air was cooler there, the ocean was clearer, and the sun warmer. It felt like my place to find myself.

  I jumped when my phone rang, a surge of adrenaline, rushing through my veins with the ringing. “Jesus, God. Don’t ever do that again. You scared the hell out of me.”

  “Sorry, whatcha doing? Did she call?”

  “No, not yet. Did you get the test?”

  “Yes, bring his brush with you. He said he could have the results back to you by the end of the week.”

  “I’m scared, Mi. What if she’s really Lane’s? I can’t keep doing this. I’m going to have to tell him, or we’re never going to work. I can’t keep going like this.”

  “Fingers crossed, I mean it’s not impossible. You did have sex with both of them, and you’re pregnant now. I’d say the odds are in your favor. Gotta go. I’ll see you at two. Is he coming?”

  “I don’t know. We had a fight.”

  “You just told me yesterday how good things were going.”

  “Yeah, and then the bastard snuck upstairs and caught me on the phone with Tatiana.”

  “I tried to tell you to wait for the stupid test. You never listen to me. What did she say?”

  I reminded Mi of how that all went down, defending myself against her, I told you so’s. “You told me that after I sent the email. How was I supposed to know I could just give you his hairbrush along with the girls’? I’m not a forensic cop, and besides. I didn’t know she would call when he was home. I specifically stated before three for a reason.”

  “Don’t you watch NCIS? Law and order, CSI? Nothing?”

  “No, not really. I either watch Nickelodeon, Disney, or football. That’s about it.”

  “I gotta go, chica. I’ll see you when you get here. Don’t worry about anything. Just take care of that baby. No stress.”

  “Yeah, that’s easy with my life. I’ll see you later.”

  I breathed a deep breath, realizing how I must have sounded to Tatiana. Like an immature idiot, telling her to call back when my husband wasn’t home. I didn’t jump with next ring. I prepared myself with a straight spine and a strong voice.

  “Hello, this is Gabriella Pierce.”

  “Um yes, this is Tatiana Gibson. You wanted to speak with me. Is Rowan okay?”

  “Yes, of course. It was nothing like that.” For whatever reason, the sound of her voice relaxed me a little, and we talked, and talked, and talked. That was unexpected, and way out in left field. I wasn’t expecting that at all.

  Tatiana confessed her mistakes to me, telling me how lucky I was to have Paxton. She’d been through two other divorces since him, expecting them to be like him. Work hard and love her the way that he once did. Of course, I never disclosed the aftermath of her cyclone had caused, or that I was what it had collided with. I took the blunt of her betrayal. I, however, wasn’t about to tell her that part. I was okay with her thinking we had this magical thing between us, and in some sort of fucked up way, we did.

  “I wish I could tell you, but I can’t. That doesn’t make me very proud of myself, but it’s the truth. I was so young when I met Paxton, at the top of the world, partying with my friends, and cheering in front of thousands of people. I tried to tell him that I wasn’t ready. We actually made it to the abortion clinic, before I finally caved, and gave into him, knowing before I did, that it would never work. I tried. I swear I did. It just wasn’t for me.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t do that to Rowan, but I don’t understand how you could just walk away from her. I would die if someone took Rowan from me, and I’m not even her blood.” I would have done the same thing for Vander, too. They were all mine. All three of them and I loved them so much, and so did their daddy. Whoever said DNA made a daddy was crazy. It didn’t. Not at all.

  “Oh, I knew she would be better off with Paxton. He was an amazing daddy to her from the moment she came out, squeaking like a little mouse. While he was busy with his grandfather’s house, and that development that would give him his fresh start, I was busy, losing my baby fat. By the time Rowan was three months old, I was back to running five miles a day, and practicing for four hours to be the best cheerleader I could be. I cared about the Dallas Cowboys, not being a mommy.”

  As crazy as it sounded, I sort of felt her pain. Paxton could no doubt be overbearing, and I could see him trapping her. Maybe not in the same way that he trapped me, but nonetheless, he did. “Do you have other kids?” I don’t know why that mattered to me, but for whatever reason, that answer was important to me.

  Her tone became quiet and level. “No, I always thought that would be unfair to Rowan.”

  I understood what she meant, knowing she felt too much shame to ever do that. “You’re still young enough to have another baby. They’re amazing little people, and you don’t have to worry about Rowan. She’s loved very much.”

  The smile in her voice was heard through her words. “Thank you for saying that. I have been dating a super guy who would make an excellent father. If you don’t mind me asking, how is she? Does she still have bleach blonde hair?”

  “Yes, and it’s okay. You can ask. She’s a dancer. Ballet, and she’s so smart. She skipped the first grade because she was so bored in Kindergarten. She’s only been a second grader for a month and she’s already read seven chapter books. She’s a lot like you.”

  “She is? Like how?”

  “Well, you know we have Ophelia. That’s our daughter together, and we’re also raising my sister’s five-year-old little boy. Row-row is constantly changing her clothes, washing her hands, clothes. Oh my, God. This girl is a walking fashion designer. She’s good, too. She knows her style, the only six-year-old I know addicted to Project Runway. You would be very proud.”

  “I am, and a little sad that I’m missing it.”

  Although she was the one who chose to walk away, I felt bad. I mean, if Paxton told me I couldn’t see one of my kids, I would fight him to my death. However…I still felt sorry for her. I couldn’t imagine not seeing them. “Thank you for returning my call. Even though I didn’t get the answer I hoped for, I feel a little closure after talking to you. Don’t ever worry about Rowan, Tatiana. I’m madly in love with her. I can’t fathom the thought of her not being in my life.”

  “That means a lot. Take care.”

  “You, too.”

  “Gabriella?”

  “Yes?”

  “I really don’t think you need a piece of paper to know who her father is.”

  “Thank you.”

  With that I hit end, glancing up to the warm sun with a new sense of direction. Maybe all of this was just plain silly. Maybe I should just stop and forget all about it, but I knew that wouldn’t happen, that I would never be able to let it rest until I knew. Climbing down from the large rock, I decided to continue with the plan. If all went as planned, Mi would be able to tell me if Paxton was indeed the father of both my daughters. I refused to think about the, what ifs, deciding to stay focused on, the positive, believing that he was.

  Chapter Seven

  Paxton

  I honestly didn’t know if I would show up to take her. I was so pissed off at her. This was ridiculous and I was sick of the games. My morning was spent away from my employees with a shovel and a fifteen-foot ditch that needed to be dug. The best place for my pissed off energy. Fuck her, fuck all of this shit. Things were a lot simpler when she just did what I told her to do, and didn’t talk. Then again, they was a lot less happy, too. I never thought about Gabriella not loving me. I guess I didn’t care then, but I did now. I wanted her to love me, and I wanted to love her. Hard, like we meant it.

  Sweat running down my back pulled my attention from the ditch that I had been frantically digging to t
he time. It was nearly noon, and if I planned on being there, I needed to go. I didn’t go to the appointments with Ophelia. It wasn’t unheard of. Lots of men didn’t take off work for that.

  “Mother-fucker,” I audibly said as the nose of my shovel dove into the pile of dirt, and I climbed out. “Hey, Red,” I called to a kid not normally on this crew. The one standing around with his hands in his pockets.

  The red-haired kid jogged over to me, correcting right away. “Jason. My names Jason.”

  “Yeah, okay. Finish this ditch, go to the stake right there, and make a sharp left toward that one,” I instructed with a nod toward the other stake. I didn’t care what his name was. I cared that I paid him by the hour, not by standing around.

  Once I said a few words to Pete, one being to keep that kid moving, I got in my truck. Like a whipped little pup, I went home to my wife. My twenty-minute drive must have been spent in a fog. I didn’t even remember it. The two old ladies, looking at Tricia and Mark’s house pulled my attention from my thoughts. Not at all what I had in mind with this place. It was supposed to be fun. I chose who I sold the lots to very carefully. Young and full of life, like Tatiana. Tricia, Layla, and Candace were all women she could relate to. Gabriella on the other hand, not so much.

  Although there at the end, I really thought she would finally fit in. It may have been fake, but she played the part well. I snorted as I watched the two old women look around the yard, hoping like hell they bought the place. God knew I sucked at picking neighbors. Then again, I chose them for Tatiana, not Gabriella. She’d probably love two old women, Tatiana would not.

  Just when I had myself loaded with enough attitude to walk in my house, and right past my wife without a word, she threw a curve ball. Jesus Christ. I couldn’t fucking win.

  “Why are you crying?”

  “You came home. That surprises me.”

  “Why are you crying?”

  “Don’t ask. Just go take a shower so we can go.”

  I shook my head in utter confusion, walking to her while I tried to figure out what the hell to do with this crazy chick. “We can’t keep doing this, Gabriella. I’ve told you everything because I love you, and I want to grow old and wrinkly with you, but you’re a liar. You’re hiding something from me and it’s not right. I’ve laid it all out there for you. You know it all, yet you won’t give it all to me.”

  “I’m not crying because of you. I’m crying because Morgan has it way worse than I ever did. Drew is a monster. More than you. Way more.”

  I backed away from her with a frown. “Who the fuck is Morgan and Drew?”

  Gabriella stood from the sofa and walked away from me. “It’s a book. I needed something to occupy my time while I waited to see if you were going to show up.”

  My head shook back and forth while I contemplated my hormonal wife. I would never survive this. Thank God she was already five months along. Four more months was better than nine. Thinking about four more months made my head spin. That would be here before we knew it. Not a lot of time to prepare.

  “Gabriella, stop reading those depressing books, especially now. I’m trying to be pissed off at you for sneaking around behind my back, doing something that you know is driving a wedge between us, and refusing to tell me. Don’t fucking expect me to feel sorry for you over some made up story. Worry about this one right here, Gabriella. The one staring you right in the face. Fuck Drew and Megan. Worry about your own problems.”

  “Morgan.”

  “What?”

  “Her name is Morgan, not Megan.”

  The grumble that came out from deep within my throat lasted all the way up the steps. I couldn’t say another word. This was a new kind of anger for me. One that I didn’t know how to handle, and I had learned right quick to not handle. Walk away. A fistful of hair and a good old ass beating sure as hell didn’t work anymore. She liked it. And if she wasn’t in the mood for liking it, I had to protect myself with armor. What the fuck?

  I tried to shower away the anger, scrubbing hard with lavender scented bubbles. For whatever reason, the sweet aroma did relax me. A little. By the time I had started with a shower, and ended with a shave, I was finished. Being angry with her didn’t work like it once did. Gabriella would never look down to the floor because I told her to. Not now. Once again, I blamed it on hormones, thinking back to spying on her while she was pregnant with Phi.

  That’s when I had installed the cameras. I couldn’t leave my daughter with someone I barely knew, not until I was one-hundred-percent sure she would be taken care of. I snorted to my reflection as I glided the razor down my throat. She was more than taken care of. She was loved. Every time I went to my phone, she was reading to her, rocking her, bathing her, playing with her, always her. Gabriella was always her mommy, and I didn’t care what role Tatiana played in her life. DNA doesn’t make a mommy. Love does.

  Needless to say, I couldn’t remember any outburst while she was pregnant. Nothing. She pretty much did any and everything I told her to do. And she didn’t throw me right hooks.

  “That’s because she was broken, you fucking idiot,” I said with harsh words right to my own face. It was the truth. I deserved everything that woman handed to me and then some, but that didn’t change the fact that somewhere the train jumped the track. This sort of thing doesn’t happen in real life. I’m sure I could find a case or two amnesia movies, a few books, maybe even romance novels like my crybaby wife read, but not this.

  One minute things are normal. Normal for us. I’m fucking my wife over my desk, planning a fun night in-land with my girls, a nice meal, a blow job, and then—BAM. The train jumps the track. Not only does my wife not remember me, she’s somebody else. A total one-eighty in the blink of an eye. Just like that. Little by little, I got to know this new person with no memory because she gave me no choice. She defied me every chance she got, she flirted with me, stood up for me, called out euphoric dirty words while I fucked her, and she loved me.

  If that wasn’t enough, I had to go and fall in love with her, too. And the train jumped tracks again. It all made perfect sense. I fell in love with her because she wasn’t my real wife. For a minute, I did believe that she was the real Gabriella, not the imposter that I married. And there was still that something with Lane. A thousand thoughts went through my mind while I dressed in jeans, the ones I knew Gabriella drooled over. I also chose her favorite shirt. The one she always laid out for me to wear when we went out. A gray button up with black stripes, barely visible with the sleeves rolled halfway up my arms. What can I say, I was good at manipulating, especially her. I just had to rethink my strategies for my own personal safety.

  My feet skated down the stairs and our eyes met. “You ready? We better get going,” I nonchalantly said, sliding my feet into clean sneakers. Score. Her eyes never left my body. Digging ditches and sweating for a living saved a ton of money and time at the gym.

  Gabriella retrieved her phone and purse, walking out to the garage without a word. I followed, raising the garage door while setting the alarm. Once again, I nonchalantly talked like she wasn’t already drooling. The expensive cologne that I didn’t remember, nor cared, what the name was for my birthday lingered in the air, and I knew she took it in. I stunned her and I liked it. Maybe I was on to something.

  “There’s two old ladies, looking at Tricia’s house. I saw them checking out the lot when I came in.”

  Gabriella quickly shifted her gaze from mine when I glanced over, catching her checking me out. “Oh yeah? Cool.”

  Cool. That made me chuckle inside a little. Gabriella didn’t say cool. She also didn’t play into my hand. She lost that filter after the accident.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  I played coy, turned to her with confusion, and then back to the road. “Driving you to the doctor. Ultrasound, remember? Today?” My eyebrows raised to the ceiling as gave her a quick look, trying to make her feel silly.

  “Yeah, but are you trying to get laid, or w
hat? Or is this another attempt to manipulate me into your way of thinking? A way for you to connive me into telling you what I promised to tell you, in my own time? What? Do you think you’re that irresistible? Seriously?”

  I hit the gas pedal a little harder than I meant to and frowned, straight ahead, not at her. Definitely not at her. When did this happen? When did I become an open book to her? I couldn’t win. Hell, I couldn’t even keep up with the fucking game.

  “Tell me, Pax. Why are you dressed like you want me to jump your bones? Why do you smell like that?”

  “Like what? I took a shower and cleaned up because we’re going out. Why do you have to make something out of nothing all the time?”

  Gabriella stared at me through two tiny slits in her eyes. “Okay, macho man. I’ll pretend like this is just you. You know, since you lay your own clothes out and all. Like you didn’t see the clothes in the bathroom where they always are. Not those clothes. I’ll pretend like you’re not up to something. How’s that?”

  I shrugged the shoulder closest to her, ready to fire with my own comeback. “Okay, I like it. You pretend that I’m not up to something, and I’ll pretend that you’re not up to something. How’s that?”

  Gabriella wasn’t as quick on her toes as she thought she was. She didn’t prance around with her smart-ass words, she ignored it with the radio and Eminem. I reached over and cranked the knob, sending bass through the car with a deep thump. We didn’t have a choice but to listen to the words. Words from a song I had never paid attention to before, hit home, harder than either one of us expected. I said and did a lot of those same things he sang angrily about. I felt his anger with him, and I related to almost every word. I also wondered if Gabriella felt what I felt when the female sang her part. It was the most powerful fucked-upped thing at the right, wrong time. Did Gabriella feel like that? Did she think I stood there and watched her burn? I tapped my brake for a little black squirrel, turning off the music when I looked over to Gabriella.