by R. R. Banks
“I know.” She slowly lays back onto the rock. “But I just feel like I should do normal teenager stuff.”
“You should stop thinking about what you ‘should’ do and do what you want.” I scoot so I can look at her face. “That’s the fastest way to be unhappy.”
“But what if having a boyfriend makes me happy?”
“You can’t know that. And you can’t rely on anyone else to make you happy.” I wonder if I sound as worried and terrified as I think I do. I’ve fallen into the same trap before and I’m still dealing with the blowback.
She blinks, considering what I said. “I guess.”
“Yeah.” I smile, even though as I say it, I realize that I’m spouting all this advice and taking exactly none of it. My gut churns a little, and I’m not sure if it’s the baby or unwanted thoughts trying to fight to the surface. “C’mon, let’s keep walking.”
Maya nods and gets up, and we continue. She’s quiet but doesn’t seem to be as low as she was.
The longer we walk, the more beautiful it seems to get. The forest on either side of the trail seems to get more and more dense, too, almost like one in a fairy tale. It’s been so long since I’ve really felt calm like this, physically. I never realized how much the constant sounds of the city wore me down, or the pace. Yeah, there’s always stuff going on, which is great, but I’m never taking advantage of it all. Most of the time I’m just grumbling with other commuters on the subway or standing in lines outside of places, not taking in all of the art and culture there is to offer. I always wanted to live in New York City, so I never thought about how much my body doesn’t actually like it. I’m not sure if just going back up here — or to any other town in the area — will be enough.
“Do you think you’ll miss Gray’s Point when you move?” I ask. “It’s just so calm out here.”
“I dunno. I haven’t seen enough of the world yet. Maybe it sucks. I don’t know.” She smacks a bug on her arm.
“That’s pretty wise.”
“It’s just what my mom said.” She wrinkles her nose. “I think she just wants me to stay and hang out with her and the alpacas forever. Not that I don’t love them, but I want to leave here.”
“You will.” I wipe the back of my neck with a handkerchief I tucked into my pocket. God, it’s warm.
We stop and start, depending on how I’m feeling. I think Maya’s too polite to ask if I’m okay, since I keep pretending I’m fine. Maybe I should tell her, since she’s big on keeping secrets — a teenager thing that might come in handy.
“Hey, can I tell you something?” I start. “Something that’s kind of a secret?”
“Yeah, of course,” she replies, excitement bubbling over her words.
I pause, feeling a surge of anxiety. “I’m having a baby.”
“No shit?” she squeals. “Congrats, Simone!”
Surprisingly, I feel relieved, not like I’ve added to my burden. “Thank you.”
“Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?” she asks.
“Not sure yet. I’m not too far along.” I touch my belly a little. I’m not sure whether I’d want one sex over the other, though. Maybe I’ll wait until the birth, but I don’t know if I could handle waiting that long.
“Wait…” She pauses. “Who is the father? Can I even ask that question? Am I being rude?”
“In this circumstance, it’s not that rude.” I bite my bottom lip. “It’s Jay’s.”
“Oh.” She blinks. “Oh my God, you won’t tell him I said he was —”
“I’m not going to tell him you said he was a hot, sexy Hagrid.”
“Okay, good.” She sighs in relief. “But wow. How’d he take it? I thought you guys were just friends?”
“We are… But we kind of aren’t.” I tuck my hands into my pocket. “He still doesn’t know.”
Maya senses that she’s reached the limit of polite questions and goes quiet. I need to tell Jay tonight. I’m just putting off the inevitable, and the longer I wait, the more hurt he might be. Or the happier he’ll be that I let him live in blissful ignorance for a while.
And I need to take a long hard look at whether I should stay in the city or not, especially with the baby. Maybe I could even move back to New Jersey, even though the commute would suck. It would be a little bit calmer. I can try to talk to Katya. I’m still an important part of the team, but things have moved along pretty smoothly with just me on the phone.
Maybe it could work. Maybe I could actually stay up here and raise the baby with or without Jay. Andrew and Holly are nice. And I’m not so far away that I can’t go back to the city to visit regularly.
I take a deep breath, pushing forward. Here I go again, not taking my own stupid advice. I have my friends and my family. It might not be the exact life I imagined, but I can try to juggle it all, with or without Jay.
I hear some twigs snapping to my left in the forest. I hope it’s just a bird or something, maybe a wild turkey, even though they’re actually slightly terrifying. Maya hears it, too, and she looks over in that direction. Before I can say anything about it, someone grabs me by the ponytail and yanks me back. My scream is muffled by a hand over my mouth, and everything goes black.
Chapter Sixteen
Jay
The only reason I have a smartphone is that the flip phones my carrier had were pretty bad. I never use it for anything more than its intended purpose, texting, and maybe an alarm clock or camera from time to time. But now I get why people are attached to their phones. I just want something to happen, or come through, or something. I sent Simone a text last night, and she hasn’t responded. I can see that she’s read it, though. That’s the worst part. I’d prefer to just not know.
I thought we were finally getting closer to being together again. We’ve texted most days, just casual conversation, talking about whatever pops into our heads. I haven’t asked if she wants to hang out again, maybe to grab a drink. I don’t want to push her, since she seems like she’s coming back around to the idea of us actually being a couple and not whatever non-relationship limbo we’re in on her own. It feels like I’m trying to coax a cat from underneath my truck. Sometimes the cat comes closer, but if I move the wrong way, it goes back to its hiding spot.
I roll over onto my stomach and bury my face into my pillow. I’ve had to wash the sheets since the last time Simone was here, so it doesn’t smell like her anymore. Nothing does, since all of her stuff is gone. She left one pair of panties crumpled in the back corner of a drawer, but that’s about it. They’re clean, because of course I had to check immediately. It’s been way too long since we’ve had sex, or even exchanged a sexy text or two. Even though the panties were on the less fancy end of her lingerie spectrum, they were still hot enough for me to jack off to like some sad teenager.
I pick up my phone and check it again. My last text was so mundane — I asked her if she saw this terrible sci-fi movie that came out a few years back. I want to watch it with her, since I know she’d find it hilarious. All my texts before that were replied to in a reasonable time, with a reasonable amount of enthusiasm.
Fuck, I can’t believe I’ve turned into this guy. Waiting by my phone, analyzing every single letter and emoji in a conversation.
I need to get dressed and get on with my day. I roll out of bed, drink some coffee, then shower. It’s pristine and empty with just my shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. No more scrubs, bubble baths, body masks, hair treatments, or any of the stuff Simone brought around. Even if I didn’t use those things, I miss the way it made the bathroom smell — feminine, but not overly sweet.
I pour myself another cup and head to my workshop. It’s hot out now, and I’m not looking forward to working with my forge. It has to be done, though. I have a project due to a client in two weeks. I throw myself into my work, trying to get every detail right, ignoring the feeling of my phone in my pocket. It’s on vibrate, so I should feel it, but whenever I do something with machinery, it feels like it’s vibrating.
Hours go by, and soon it’s lunch. Maybe I should send another text? I pour myself a big bowl of cereal and start tapping out another response. “You okay?” sounds a little presumptuous — maybe she’s really busy and just hasn’t had the time to respond. Before I can figure out a good text, I get another one from Holly.
Hey, is Simone at your place? Her car’s still gone from yesterday.
I frown.
No, she’s not. Why?
Holly calls a few seconds later.
“Have you seen her since yesterday?” she asks, sounding panicked. “She usually lets us know if she’s going out for a while, so she wouldn’t just leave overnight without telling us.”
“I haven’t. I was just texting her to see what’s up. She read my text last night but didn’t respond.” My heart leaps into my throat, driven by Holly’s worried tone. Holly’s usually pretty level-headed. “Do you think she went home already?”
“I haven’t checked in the guesthouse yet.” I hear her walk outside. “I’m going to check. Maybe someone borrowed her car?”
“But who would? She’s friends with Maya, but she’s barely out of high school. She shouldn’t be driving a rental car.” I glance at my cereal, my appetite completely gone.
“I don’t know. I was just throwing something out there.” Holly knocks on a door. “Simone? Are you in?”
There’s a pause, and I hear Holly open the door.
“She’s not here,” she tells me, taking in a long breath.
“Does it look like she’s been there recently?” I ask. “Y’know what — I’ll just come over there. I’ll be there in five.”
I grab my keys and phone and book it over to Holly and Andrew’s. She’s standing outside, holding her phone in one hand and the end of her long braid in the other. Her clothes are haphazardly hanging on her frame, like she threw them on hastily.
“Does her place look ransacked?” I ask, stepping past her and into the guest house.
“Nope.” She steps in behind me.
I scan the room. It’s really nice — their renovations look good. There’s her bed on the far side of the room, unmade, but Simone doesn’t like to make her bed. Her work stuff is on the long table next to the window, neatly organized. Her keys are gone, obviously, but so is her purse. If she were kidnapped from the house, the kidnapper might have left some evidence behind. At least it’s not like the last time something happened to her, where everything was wrecked.
“Here’s her calendar,” Holly says, pointing to the fridge.
I step up behind her and scan it. Her neat, feminine handwriting is all over it. Most things are work-related notes, but she’s also made a note that she has a doctor’s appointment close to when she leaves, and a “to buy” list on the empty space beside the calendar. Granola bars, bug spray, sunscreen…
“Maybe she went for a hike?” Holly attempts.
“But with who? I highly doubt she’d go on a hike by herself.” I pause, thinking of an explanation. “Maybe she’d go with Maya. She’s been mentoring her.”
“That’s worth a shot. She babysits for us sometimes. Let me text her. She usually responds quickly.” Holly does so, and we wait.
I sink down onto the couch, feeling the little amount of cereal I ate churn in my gut. Maybe her phone died before she could respond. That would make sense. But most places have somewhere to charge your phone. She’s not a hiker, but she has enough sense to charge her phone before going into the woods.
“Do you think she’s at the doctor, maybe?” I throw out there. “I don’t know. It seems like it might be worth a shot.”
Holly stops, her back to me. I can see the tension in her shoulders. “I don’t think she would be.”
“Is she sick? Why would she go to the doctor up here when she’s about to go home soon?” I get back up and pace.
Holly doesn’t say anything for a moment, but it’s clear she knows something. I give her a questioning look.
“She wasn’t feeling great. All those colds and viruses, you know?” She shrugs. “I don’t know much more than that.”
A series of worst-case scenarios flood through my head. What if her car’s in a ditch somewhere? What if she passed out on this hike? What if she has some incurable disease that she didn’t want to tell me about? That might explain why she pulled away, but that would make everything so much worse.
Holly’s phone rings and she picks it up right away.
“Oh, hi, Natasha. How are you?” Holly frowns. She mouths Maya’s mom to me. “No, she’s not babysitting for us today. Justin’s with my mother… She said she was going on a hike with Simone? We haven’t seen her either.”
I feel myself going pale and starting to sweat, even though I also feel cold.
“It’s been less than twenty-four hours, I think, at least eighteen or so…” Holly paces a little bit. “Since she’s an adult, I don’t think the cops can do anything yet.”
“Put her on speaker,” I say. Holly does it.
“So what should we do? Also, Jay’s here — we’re on speaker now.” Holly holds the phone between us.
“We can try going into town and asking around. I know people know Maya from the store. And maybe some others can go around the trail to see if they’re there,” Natasha says over the phone. She sounds like she’s been up for days, talking herself hoarse.
“That sounds good. I can go into town and start asking around,” I offer.
“I’ll come with you,” Holly says.
“Okay, I’ll go to the trail. What did Simone’s car look like?” Natasha asks.
I give her the details. I wish I could remember her license plate number, but I never thought I would actually need to remember it off the top of my head. If we can’t get any details in town, we decide to meet up at the trail head later. Once we have all the details and plans set out, Holly and I get into my truck and head into town.
The atmosphere in my truck is tense. Holly’s not saying anything, and I don’t want to turn on any music. I’ve never felt like this before, like I’m about to fall apart from anxiety. I don’t know what I will do if Simone is hurt. Every imagined future where we finally got to know each other again is starting to crumble. And then more terrible thoughts follow. What if she’s fine for now, but she’s on borrowed time with her health? What if we find her and still lose her anyway? She’s thirty, but that doesn’t mean she’s impervious to disease. But it could be something less serious.
“When you said she wasn’t feeling great, were you talking about the flu? She’s been sick off and on for a while now.” I slow to a stop at a light.
Holly doesn’t say anything for a few beats and keeps staring out the window. I can’t tell whether she’s scared or not, but there’s something on her mind. “I’m not sure if she’d want you to know.”
“What do you mean?” Someone behind us honks for me to go, and I speed on.
“It’s not my business to tell you.”
“You can’t just give me half of the answers, Holly. This might be a life or death situation. Maybe it’s something that can help jog my memory about her.” I grip the steering wheel, trying to pull myself back together. “I’m worried to death about her. We’re sort of seeing each other.”
‘Seeing each other’ is definitely a stretch, since I haven’t seen her in person in a long ass time and our conversations are basically all friend-level things, but still. I’m falling in love with her again, so who cares what I call it? A big part of a relationship is just how much you enjoy being around a person, and I really enjoy being around Simone.
Holly swears, and I’ve never heard her swear in the whole time I’ve known her. Not even ‘hell’ or ‘damn.’
“Park for a second, and I can tell you more about it.” She gestures toward the lot at the end of the main road.
“We need to get into town —”
“Please. Just pull over.”
I do as she says and pull into a spot.
“Okay, go ahead.” I c
rack the windows and turn the car off.
“She’s going to be so mad I told you, but since there’s a very strong chance she’s missing, I hope she’ll understand.” Holly sighs and looks at me. “She’s pregnant, Jay. And she wanted me to keep it a secret.”
I know what she said, but part of my brain isn’t processing the words. It’s like someone shoved a hunk of sheet metal into a paper shredder — it just isn’t going through.
“Pregnant?” I echo.
“Yes.” Her eyes soften. “And I’m guessing it’s yours?”
I nod, but panic grips my throat. Fuck. “It might be her ex’s. I don’t know.”
Could she have slept with Max while we were together? Or would she do it? When she said that she wanted to put our relationship on hold, she said Max was part of the reason. I shake my head. She would never cheat on me, especially with the guy who literally drove her out of her home. Even though she’s closed off, she’s not a terrible person.
“I’d say she’s about three months along,” Holly adds. “Maybe a little bit more.”
That was around the time that we had sex for the first time. But then that leaves an uncomfortable truth: I’m the father of her kid.
I let my head fall back onto the headrest with a thump. Thank God Holly had me park, because I’m not sure if I can focus on driving without sending us careening off the road. My brain’s still not fully understanding all of this. I never thought I would father a child. I’ve gone out of my way to not do that my whole adult life because of my own fucked-up childhood, and I’m content with my decision for the most part.
But that was before Simone came back into my life and made me realize that my life doesn’t have to be some solitary thing with no connections, family, or friends. Deep down, I know that things might not end up perfectly, but that doesn’t mean we can’t try. Doesn’t mean I’m not scared shitless, but my first impulse is to just give it a shot. I need to go with my gut.
“Are you sure?” I ask. Suddenly, I’m more scared of the answer being no than yes.