by Holly Rayner
She launched into a story about her pregnancy that lasted for a full half-hour. While she listened to her mother’s chatter, Marissa helped to prepare the lasagna. She whipped together the cheese-filling ingredients and then helped her mother layer it in, along with the sauce, over the long, flat noodles. While the meal baked, Marissa fixed a salad while her mother set the table. Soon the two sat down together at Marissa’s kitchen table, which looked out over her landlady’s backyard.
The lasagna smelled delicious. Marissa served a piece for her mother and then scooped a steaming square of the cheesy dish onto her own plate.
“I’ve been thinking,” Linda said while drizzling Italian dressing over her salad. “When the baby comes, why don’t you come back home and stay with your dad and me?”
Marissa swallowed.
In fact, the thought of moving home had occurred to her, as well.
She never wanted to be an adult living in her parent’s home. When she was a child, she always dreamed of leaving Peabody, Kansas, and seeing the big wide world. She thought she’d meet a man, fall in love, and together, they’d raise a family. Of course, she would visit Peabody, but she wouldn’t live there.
Getting pregnant by mistake and then losing the baby's father to a tragic plane accident was surely not in her plan. Nor was moving back to Peabody to once again live in her childhood home.
But her options were limited.
While she thought this through, a silence lingered between her and her mother.
Linda filled the gap in conversation. “I know you don’t like to talk about the baby’s father. You’ve said he was a man that you met while on vacation, and you’ve said he’s not going to be in the picture…”
“He’s not,” Marissa said.
“And there’s really no chance of contacting him?” Marissa’s mother asked.
Marissa sighed and her shoulders slumped.
Linda reached across the table and patted Marissa’s hand. “It’s okay, dear,” she said. “I know it’s a sensitive subject, and I promise this is the last time I’ll bring it up. You don’t know him well, and that’s fine, but couldn’t you just find him—at least so that you could ask for child support payments?”
“I didn’t say that I don’t know him well,” Marissa said stiffly. She didn’t like talking about Colt. It was bad enough that the man was on the front of her mind all day long, and often filled her dreams. She didn’t need him to fill her conversations, too.
“I thought you said you only knew him for two days?” Linda said.
Marissa nodded. “Yes, but the duration of time doesn’t matter. I felt like I knew him by the time I left Texas. I know it sounds crazy, but I connected with him on a deeper level than I’ve ever connected with anyone before.”
“Then why aren’t you talking to him now?” Linda pressed.
“I told you,” Marissa said. “He’s not available.”
Linda frowned and leaned forward. “You mean he’s married?” she asked in a disapproving whisper.
“No!”
“Seeing someone, then?”
“Mom, no… I wouldn’t sleep with a guy who had another girlfriend.”
Linda threw her arms up. “Well, what then? I don’t see the problem, Marissa.”
Marissa stared down at her food. “I can’t call him because… he’s dead, Mom. He was in a plane accident.”
“Oh, sweetie!” Linda cooed. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“It all happened so suddenly,” Marissa said. “First, meeting this guy—I wasn’t expecting it.”
“One never is,” Linda said. “You can’t plan to fall in love.”
Marissa nodded. “And then I found out I was pregnant, soon after I found out that his plane went down in the gulf. It all felt so surreal. I’ve barely been able to wrap my own head around it, let alone discuss it with others.”
“I’m not others,” Linda admonished. “I’m your mother. You need to tell me these things! Now I understand.”
She fell silent.
Marissa looked up from her plate. “Please don’t go spreading it around Peabody. It was bad enough that everyone at my work knew about Colt’s death. I don’t need everyone in my hometown feeling sorry for me, too.”
“My lips are sealed,” Linda said.
Marissa arched a brow. “Even with the folks who have known me since I was in diapers?”
Linda nodded. “Even them,” she said.
The two ate in silence for a moment. The clank of forks against knives was the only sound. After some time passed, Linda spoke. “Well, raising a child is a lot of work. You’re going to need some help. Your father and I are ready to step in and give a hand.”
“Thanks, Mom,” she said softly. “That’s a kind offer. I know you and Dad don’t have much room to spare.”
“Nonsense,” Linda said, “We have plenty of room. Your old bedroom is serving as a sewing room now, so all I’d have to do is move a few things around, and ‘bingo!’ we’d be all set. Now, mind you, the baby would have to sleep in there with you, but that’s probably best anyhow, seeing as you’ll be up at night to do feedings.”
“Right,” Marissa said, frowning with concern as she thought about her parents’ small house. “I have a few thousand dollars saved up, so I can at least afford to stay here for July and August. Come September, I might just take you…” She hesitated, finding it hard to say the words aloud. Her mother waited expectantly. Marissa gulped. “Might just take you up on the offer,” she finished.
Linda smiled. “Wonderful!” she said. “Your father will be so pleased. He’s so worried about you, too, sweet pea. Now, tell me about how you’ve been eating. Are you having three square meals a day? It’s important that you get all your nutrients.”
For the remainder of the meal, Marissa reported on her eating habits while her mother listened intently. Though her mother’s visit was a complete surprise, Marissa felt happy to have her there. It was a nice change to have someone to eat dinner with.
Well, thought Marissa, as she scrubbed out the lasagna pot once the meal was through, I might not have to worry about being lonely for much longer. In just a few months, I’ll be moving back in with Mom and Dad.
The thought was discouraging, but she tried to make the best of it. It’s not ideal, but at least it’ll be a roof over my head and extra love for the baby. I’m going to need help—whether I want to admit it or not, that’s the truth. I can’t do this alone. Colt is gone, and I need to make realistic plans for the future.
She loaded the pan into the drying rack and then dried her own hands and leaned against the sink for a moment, looking out into the starry sky. I wish he was here. I wish right now he was standing here next to me, drying the dishes after I wash them. I wish he’d turn to me, wrap me in a warm hug, and tell me everything is going to be okay.
But he’s not here. He can’t be.
I have to stop fantasizing about him—it’s not healthy.
I have to move on. It’s time.
Chapter 12
Colt
Knock, knock.
Colt crossed the hotel room to the door. “Coming!” he said.
When he yanked it open, he saw two security officers that had been assigned to his case recently, at just the beginning of the week. Charlie, back in the States, had contracted out a few guys to keep Colt company, but the faces of his guards kept changing.
These two looked like they might have been ex-military. They each stood erect, with hands folded in front of them and stony expressions on their faces. Each sported a crew haircut, and they were both well-built, with boxy, muscular physiques.
“Come on in, guys,” Colt said, stepping aside. “What’s the news? Bradley contacted me to say that a few of the security guys state-side finally dug up some news on Marissa. I’ve been waiting on pins and needles. Let’s sit outside.”
He moved to the balcony and then stood at the rail, looking out over the street below as he waited anxiously for the g
uards to start talking.
One cleared his throat. Colt turned and saw that the guard was holding out a manila folder. The other guard perched on one of the patio chairs. Colt accepted the folder. “What’s this?” he asked, eyeing it.
“Info on Marissa Garvin,” the guard said. “It took a while to locate her. Charlie said you didn’t have a last name?”
Colt nodded and then opened the folder. His heart skipped a beat as he saw the first photo within. It was a picture of Marissa, taken while she was backing down a driveway in a red Jetta. She wore large sunglasses that hid her beautiful eyes, but even still, she was stunning. Colt smiled.
“This is her!” he said happily. He’d only had his memory of Marissa, for so long. What a relief to finally see a photograph of her. “Is she doing okay? She looks good… healthy.”
The guard who had handed him the folder nodded. “Like I said, it took us a while to track her down.”
“I know,” Colt said, still staring at the photo. “I asked Bradley to check on her a month ago. I thought he’d have info in days, not weeks.”
He thought about the many apologetic calls from Bradley that he’d fielded over the last few weeks. It seemed that Marissa had not registered for her room at the Skylark Suites with her own name—perhaps the reservation was made and paid for by a friend. Then, there was the fact that there were hundreds of Marissas who were teachers. Though the process had been slow, Colt never gave up hope that they would eventually locate her. And they had.
He stared down at the photograph now in his hands. She’s more beautiful even than I remembered, he thought.
He flipped to the next photograph in the stack and his eyes widened. It was a photograph of Marissa, walking down the sidewalk. The photographer had obviously been hidden; the angle of the photo was odd, and Marissa appeared oblivious that she was being photographed.
She wore black pants and a pale pink blouse. The blouse was stretched tight against her body, thanks to a breeze that blasted her from the front, sweeping her hair back and the fabric of her top taught against her torso.
Because the fabric of her blouse was plastered against her so tightly, the curves of her figure were clear—and they were distinctly different than Colt remembered. She had a clearly defined baby bump. It was small, but obvious.
He looked up from the photo. “Is she…” his voice faded before he finished his sentence.
The guard who was sitting gave a curt nod. “Pregnant,” he said. “About four months, we estimate. We had experts look at the photographs, and they said that based on the fact that she’s a first-time mother, she’s about fifteen to sixteen weeks along.”
Colt licked his lips. He looked back down at the photograph. She’s pregnant, he thought. Could it be mine?
He did the math in his head. Sixteen weeks ago he’d been in the US. In Austin. With Marissa.
He reached a hand up and ran it through his hair. “Holy smokes,” he said under his breath. “This is real? This isn’t some prank that Bradley is playing on me, is it?” He eyed the two guards. “Did Bradley put you up to this? He loves to mess with me.”
Both guards shook their heads. “No, sir,” said the one who was sitting.
“I have to go see her,” Colt muttered. “This is crazy…”
The guard who was sitting now got to his feet. “Hold up, Mr. Thorpe,” he said. “Don’t go doing anything rash. Charlie said you might want to travel home when you heard this news, but he asked us to emphasize to you that Vance isn’t in custody yet. The FBI is much closer to getting some hard evidence, but they still don’t have him locked down. We have to stick to the plan for a little while longer.”
Colt set the folder of photos down on a patio table. He clenched his fists as he crossed the small balcony.
He turned his back to the guards and once again looked out over the street below. The hustle and bustle of the local commerce was familiar to him, now. He loosened and then clenched his fist again. The thought of staying in Argentina, so far from Marissa, felt all wrong.
“If you go home now, you will put the entire operation in jeopardy,” one of the guards said.
“You’ve been here for so long,” said the other. “Don’t let your time here be a waste. Stick it out, and go home to your girl once everything’s wrapped up in Austin.”
Still looking away, Colt nodded. “Fine,” he said. He didn’t like lying to the guards. They were good men—just doing their jobs. But he also couldn’t have them around for the next few hours, given what he planned to do.
He remained at the railing but turned to face the messengers. “Thanks, guys, for the work you do to keep me safe. I appreciate it. Now, if you don’t mind, I think I need some time to process this news. Leave the folder.” He pointed to the manilla folder, which was lying open on the round glass table between two patio chairs.
The guards nodded. “Of course,” one said.
“We’ll be right next door if you need us,” the other added.
Colt knew that the two were staying in the room immediately adjacent to his. He nodded and held up his hand. “Got it, guys,” he said, waving them off. “Thanks again.”
Once they left, he sat down in one of the chairs and pulled the folder of photos and information into his lap.
He flipped past the first two photos and came to a sheet of paper with some typed words on it.
Marissa Garvin.
Address: 14 Briar Road, Dulcett, Kansas.
Below that was her birthdate and her occupation: first-grade teacher.
He flipped the page. There was a photograph of Marissa, standing on her front porch looking through some mail. Her hair was slightly longer than he remembered; it fell over one eye and down past her shoulders. Though the photo was taken on what looked like a gray, chilly day, Marissa’s face glowed with warmth.
Colt closed his eyes and could see the image of her standing on her porch in his mind’s eye. He wished desperately that he was in front of her house. He wished he could lift an arm, wave, and call out a friendly hello. He imagined that she looked up from the stack of letters in her hands and smiled in his direction.
I’d walk right up to her, he thought. I’d sweep her off her feet. I’d give her the kiss I’ve been dreaming about, all these long lonely nights.
Then a thought struck him: Will she be happy to see me?
In all of his fantasies of reuniting with Marissa, he’d never considered anything but their mutual happiness. He assumed both of them would be thrilled about the reunion. But what if that’s not the case? he wondered now.
What if she’s upset with me for being gone so long?
What if she’s upset that she’s had to manage the shock of becoming pregnant, all on her own?
Furthermore, is the child even mine?
Fear shot through his heart. Or has she moved on and found someone else? The timing seems to point to me, but what if the experts are wrong? What if she met someone else, and she’s not as far along as she looks? There’s a chance she’s carrying someone else’s child…
A sinking feeling filled his chest as he pondered these doubts.
He opened his eyes. I have to risk it, he thought.
I know her full name, now, and I know where she lives.
He looked back to the interior of his hotel room. He had very few belongings. It wouldn’t take long to pack, and he could hail a cab to the airport. From there, the flight home was only a matter of hours.
His security team wanted him to stay in South America.
Logic told him to do what he was told. Logic told him to be patient and wait until the sting operation unfolding around Vance was complete.
But his heart had other plans. His heart begged him to return to the States immediately and speak to Marissa face-to-face.
Colt decided to follow his heart.
He moved through his hotel room quietly, throwing his few items into his suitcase and zipping it up. Then, he tiptoed to the door, stepped out into the hallway, and closed
the door as softly as he could behind him.
He didn’t want the two guards next door to be alerted that he was on the move. If they followed him, they might try to stop him from getting on the plane, and Colt didn’t want that. He wanted to be on a plane—the sooner, the better—on his way back to the States.
I’ll get a ticket to Kansas, he thought. I’ll rent a car and drive right to the address listed—14 Briar Road, Dulcett, Kansas. He stepped into the hotel elevator, pressed the button for the lobby, closed his eyes, and brought up the image of Marissa on her porch.
I’m coming home, he thought. Just hang on. I’ll be there before you know it.
Chapter 13
Marissa
Marissa took one last look in the mirror. She turned this way and that, examining her reflection. The pale blue sundress and white cardigan combination looked nice. The sundress was one of her only nice outfits that was loose enough to wear over her emerging four-month baby bump, and she liked the way it swished around her knees when she turned.
She reached up and touched the tulip necklace that Colt had given her, all those months back. The pink charm didn’t go well with the pale blue dress, so she tucked it under the dress’s neckline. Then she turned her attention to her hair, which was down around her shoulders. She pulled a few strands up into a half ponytail and fastened them with a clip.
She smiled.
For the first time in a while, she liked the appearance of the woman staring back at her in the mirror. Now that it was mid-July, she’d been unemployed for an entire month. During that time, she had rarely dressed up. Once in a while, she gussied up to go to job interviews, but that was about it. When she was home searching for jobs online or reading up about pregnancy, she usually wore her most comfortable lounge pants or pajamas.
It felt good to get dressed up for a change.