by Max Monroe
“Take me back to San Diego, please. I have a party to get to tonight.”
Holley
My hand shakes as I sweep eye shadow across the crease in the lid of one eye and then the other. It’s a dramatic, smoky look, one I’m not known for sporting with any regularity at all.
But I figure, a confident woman needs a confident look, and if she’s not confident on her own, a confident look will sure as hell help her play the part.
I clean off my brush and poise it to dip into the next accent color when the doorbell rings. My eyebrows draw together in confusion, and then, I’m ashamed to admit, in hope. Maybe it’s Jake, and he’s here to make up!
I toss the brush down on my vanity top and rush out of the bathroom, through my bedroom, down the hall, through the living room, and out to the front door.
It’s only when I see Chloe’s face pressed up against the glass, her smile growing excitedly as she sees me coming, that I remember I promised her I’d do her makeup for the party tonight.
Holy shit, I feel awful!
I cannot believe I forgot.
Thank God I didn’t accidentally flake out on her. No matter what’s going on between Jake and me, I’d never forgive myself if I let this sweet teenage girl down.
I plaster on a quick smile and do my best to think of a game plan for her makeup. I’m a hoarder of way too many products, so I should be able to scrape together what I need without much of a problem, no matter what her dress looks like.
She has a garment bag hanging over her arm, and I speed my jog up to a full run to get to the door quicker so she doesn’t have to stand there and hold it much longer.
I turn the lock and swing the door open wide. Chloe bounces on her toes a little with her excitement, though I can tell she’s at least kind of trying to hide it. I do my best to match her enthusiasm even though I don’t feel it. What’s one more faked emotion at this point? I’m already a smorgasbord of anxiety, sadness, denial, hope, and crushing disappointment.
“Hey, Chlo,” I greet warmly, ushering her in with a swing of my free arm and stepping out of the way. “Sorry it took me a minute. I was all the way back in my bathroom.”
“That’s okay!” she says breezily. “No biggie at all.”
She walks the short distance to my living room while I shut the door, her eyes wandering wildly as she takes in everything my place has to offer. Apparently, it’s only when you get to my age that you feel like you have to snoop in secret. Her eyes are ping-pong balls, bouncing from my furniture to my abstract paintings on the walls to my built-in shelves and back again. Finally, they catch on a photograph on one of the shelves on the left, and when they do, boy do they narrow.
“Who’s that?” she asks, pointing at it with a finger to leave no doubt as to which photograph she’s talking about.
It’s a photograph of Raleigh and me, one of very few that survived the séance-style bonfire I had with them the week after I found out about him and Meghan.
“Oh,” I say cautiously, a little embarrassment creeping into my voice. “That’s my ex-fiancé.”
“You were engaged?” she asks then, whipping around to look me in the eye.
I nod. “We dated for…” I clear my throat. “Well, more than a decade, I guess. Eleven or twelve years. He, um, well…he cheated on me.” I wave a hand. “It was a whole thing.”
“Why do you keep this photo of him?” she asks unabashedly.
I groan. “I’m not sure?” I answer, kind of like a question. “I guess as a reminder of what was and what I don’t want my future to be? Plus, if I got rid of all of our photos together, there really wouldn’t be any of me left for a huge portion of my life. I decided to hold on to just a few.”
She nods, tosses the garment bag at me—I’m impressed that I catch it, frankly—and she bends down to pick up the frame. My stomach churns a little as she studies him closely, but when she turns back to me, her eyes are unbelievably kind. “You’re, like, way too pretty for him anyway. Wayyy too pretty.”
I look at the photograph of Raleigh in his prime and jerk my chin back into my chest. “You think so?”
“Ohhh yeah,” she breathes confidently, knocking on the glass of the frame with her knuckle. “You’re, like, totally wig, and he’s average at best.”
“Is wig a good thing?” I ask, and she laughs.
“Definitely.”
My chest warms, and a natural rush of endorphins makes my smile climb all the way up my face.
Chloe must notice because she nods. “You’re great, Holley. And you deserve someone great to love you back.”
I suck in my lips, pretty sure the tears are only moments away from flowing freely when she reaches out and grabs my arm quickly. “Come on! We don’t have much time, and we both have to finish getting ready.”
I lead her down the hall and into my bedroom, and I’m pretty sure, from the sound of it, I hear the picture frame with Raleigh and me hit the bottom of the kitchen trash can when she passes it.
And if that is the case, I have zero desire to go back and dig it out.
I take her dress bag and hang it on my closet door, while she glances around, pausing noticeably on my bed. For the first time since it happened, I realize I’ve been markedly avoiding changing the sheets on my bed since Jake and I slept together in it.
In fact, his leftover semen is probably still there, staining it somewhere in the middle where it leaked out of me. I just haven’t been able to bring myself—
Oh, holy shit! Anxiety reaches out and wraps its hands around my throat. My freaking birth control pills!
When was the last time I took them?
And how I am just now coming to a full realization that we didn’t use a condom that night?
Wild with panic, I turn recklessly and bowl right into Chloe. She almost takes a tumble—we both do, but I don’t even remotely have the awareness or clarity to care. I single-mindedly run for the bathroom, grabbing on to the trim of the doorway to swing myself around at full speed, and grab the handle on the top drawer where I always keep my medication.
I’m violent in my motions, and the carefully organized rows I keep any and all medication in go right to hell, but I don’t care. I scrap and scrape at the stack, throwing everything I come into contact with that isn’t a little round case of very important pills right into the basin of my sink and mumbling to myself.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God…”
I can almost feel Chloe’s presence as she sidles up behind me, but I pay her no mind, finally finding the elusive case and popping it open to inspect it.
I count pills and calculate dates in my head, but fucking hell, it is a fool’s errand. I haven’t been taking this shit for at least a week and a half. I open my mouth and close it, gulping like a fish.
What am I going to do? What if I’m actually fucking pregnant? I mean, it’d be Jake’s kid, which is great—he obviously makes good kids—but holy SHIT! I’m not even dating the guy! We slept together one time, and he’s dating five other women! I swear to Zeus, this is some kind of bullshit universe full-circle crazy nonsense if I’ve ever seen it. I know it’s my fault for not being more responsible, but—
Chloe jerks me out of my mental tirade and spins me to face her. After getting one look at my face, she grabs my head on both sides with her hands and holds me steady as she gets as close as she can.
“Do not freak out,” she commands, sounding scarily authoritative like her father. I swallow thickly, but every fiber of my body wants to rebel against her. If ever there was a time to freak out, dammit, this is it!
“Holley,” she snaps, bringing my manic eyes back to her. “Do not freak out! Whatever you’re thinking about right now, stop, okay?”
I shake my head, and she grips it harder, forcing me to make it nod.
“Whatever it is, my dad is going to make it all right,” she says, showing a finesse and a heart so far beyond her years it’s not even funny.
Tears sting my nose, but this time, they’re the good kin
d.
It may sound weird, but I think I knew I loved her before I knew I loved him. Yeah, yeah. I love him. I admit it.
I laugh, and she frowns, fearing I’m moving even closer to the brink of a breakdown, but the truth is, no matter what, she’s just done the impossible.
Because knowing her, and knowing Jake—knowing the way they are together—makes me know that no matter what happens with him and me, I—and maybe this baby!—will be more than all right. It’s seriously the weirdest emotional rollercoaster I’ve ever been on, but Chloe being here during one of the most unexpectedly ground-shattering moments of my life makes me feel calm. Right. Purposed.
I swear, I barely even recognize myself. I should have a hole halfway burrowed to China by now.
“Come on,” I say, a wave of peace washing over me and steadying my voice. I reach up and run the backs of my knuckles along her cheek. “Let’s get ready.”
“You’re fine now?” she asks skeptically. I can’t blame her. She’s only a teenager, but I’m pretty positive she knows what birth control pills look like. Hell, I wonder if she’s put it all together already? I wince internally. God, I wonder how that makes her feel.
I take her hand in mine and smile. “No, Chloe. I’m good. Are you okay?”
Chloe nods then, her eyes shiny with both unshed tears and questions. I’m not really prepared to face them, but that’s the way parenthood goes a lot of the time, I’d guess. I might as well get prepared now…just in case.
“Are you…” she starts to ask, obviously unsure how to word it. “Did you and my dad…”
Yikes. How to tiptoe through this delicate web…
“Yes. I think. If you’re asking what I think you’re asking.”
Chloe snorts a little laugh and almost smiles. “It, like, couldn’t be someone else’s, you know, baby…”
I shake my head vehemently. “If there’s a baby—and there may be no baby…” I qualify, shocked by the feeling of disappointment that follows. “But if there’s a baby, it wouldn’t be anyone else’s. Physically impossible.”
She nods and, surprising me greatly, smiles huge.
I don’t know what to make of her happiness at the possibility, but I choose not to make anything of it that’s not good. Emotionally—mentally—that’s all I can handle at this point.
My front door bangs open suddenly, handle hitting the wall stopper with a thud, and Chloe and I both jerk to look that way. We left the bedroom door open, obviously not expecting any intruders, so I push her behind me quickly and grab the first thing I can find from the counter.
I doubt my curling iron is going to do a lot of good protecting us, but it’s the only thing I’ve got.
Chloe squeals behind me, and I reach back to squeeze her wrist in comfort before yelling out, “Who’s there?”
“Phil Fields,” my dad booms out from just outside the bedroom door, and I sag in relief. Anger builds in its wake.
“Jesus, Dad! You almost scared the life out of us!” I accuse. “First, kidnapping, and now, breaking and entering—”
My tirade comes to a screeching halt as he crosses the threshold of my bedroom and smirks, tugging at the lapels of his fancy black suit.
“Mm-hmm,” he coos. “Figured the penguin getup would shut your trap.”
Chloe giggles behind me.
“What…what are you doing?”
“Takin’ you to the party,” he says matter-of-factly. “What else?”
“Dad, this is a work function—”
“Ah, horseshit,” he cuts me off. “This is my baby girl’s shot at love. If she doesn’t cock it up, that is.”
I roll my eyes as he continues.
“Which is the other part of why I’m here. Want to make sure you don’t wimp out.”
“Dad,” I say, gritting my teeth now as Chloe laughs. “This is Jake’s daughter.”
“Jake?”
“Yes, Dad. Jake.”
He nods.
“Jake, Dad. You know, the guy.”
He chuckles then, shrugging his shoulders. “Yeah, I know. Just wanted to see how many times I could make you say it.”
Chloe snorts, grabbing the curling iron from my hand and plugging it in so she can get to work on her hair. “Oh man, Holley. Your dad and my dad are going to get along great.”
Phil laughs, and I roll my eyes to the heavens again. Chloe’s right. I guess that’s one of the reasons I’m so comfortable with all of Jake’s teasing.
“I’ll just be in the living room,” my dad offers then. “You ladies finish getting ready. I’ve got a jar of pickles ready and waiting in the Buick if we need ’em.”
Chloe’s eyebrows knit in confusion, but I shake my head. “Trust me, it’s a long story.”
She giggles, but hope makes her amber eyes sparkle. “I can’t wait to hear it one day.”
I nod. I sure as hell hope Jake’s receptive to my apology and I get the chance to tell it.
All I can do now is be me and tell Jake the truth.
“Come on,” I say with a smile. “Let’s get your makeup done.”
Chloe laughs again in the back seat, ever entertained by Phil as I sink my head into my hands and try not to cry. He’s been a one-man show for the last half hour on our way to the venue, filling the ride with tales of my misadventures as a child and beyond. The one good thing I can say for it is that until this moment, it’s kept me pretty distracted from the shitshow I’m about to walk into.
Phil leans over and grabs my hands, pulling them away from my eyes as I feel the car rock to a stop. His smile is kind and loving and confirms without a shadow of a doubt that distraction is exactly what he was going for.
“Don’t know much about makeup, but I figure it probably don’t like your hands all over it, girl.”
I sigh and laugh at the same time. “Probably not. Does it still look okay?” Phil surveys me closely, but when it becomes frighteningly clear that he’s not going to be able to give me a credible answer, I turn to face Chloe.
She nods enthusiastically. “You look terrific.”
I smile my thanks and let out a deep exhale. “I guess it’s go time, then.”
I grab the handle of my door and open it, and from the sound of things, both my dad and Chloe do the same. Careful to pull the train of my dress away first, I slam the door shut and turn to face the venue—The Fleet Science Center at Balboa Park.
The building has a Spanish flair, with a whitewashed stone exterior and a red tile roof, but to tell you the truth, all it really looks like to me right now is intimidating.
I was already feeling nervous enough. Declaring your feelings for a man who is quite possibly the best, most attractive guy in the universe in a roomful of people who expect him to date other women is ominous all on its own. Add in a possible unplanned pregnancy? Yeah, I might faint.
My dad rounds the car and takes my arm, gesturing for Chloe to do the same on the other side, and I have to admit, even in the middle of my breakdown, the action makes me smile.
When he starts to walk, I have no choice but to put one foot in front of the other and do the same.
Ready or not, here we go.
Jake
Wanting to make a production of the big reveal, the paper has been kind enough to keep me barricaded off in a side room in the venue, while the party guests gather on the other side of the glass wall that looks into the main space.
SoCal Tribune pulled out all the stops tonight. Flowers, photographer, and food, they didn’t hold back on the big Bachelor Anonymous reveal.
Normally, I’d be running in the other direction to be a part of something so insane, but tonight is important.
Seeing Holley is a necessity. Telling her how I feel, really truly feel, about her is just as important as fucking oxygen for my survival.
And I’m wearing a suit, which feels weird, but tonight required a balls-to-the-wall, put-everything-on-the-line kind of mind-set.
I’m certain of what I should have known weeks ago�
��I’m in love with her. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I also know that, for me, the sound of her laughter is one of the single greatest things I’ve heard in my entire life.
I know that when she smiles, my heart does a flip inside my chest, and when she hurts, I hurt more than I’ve ever hurt.
I know that I think of her when I wake up, and I think of her when I go to sleep, and I know that sending my daughter to her house tonight—taking the chance on welcoming her into my daughter’s life—has been one of the easiest decisions I’ve ever made.
Chloe’s right. She fits. Not just me, but us, and I swear to God I’ll do everything in my power tonight to make sure she believes me when I tell her.
A woman in a low-cut dress winks through the glass wall, so I turn to face the other direction immediately.
By God, the last thing I need is another one.
As chance would have it, the movement is almost cosmically ordained, happening at just the right time to clear my line of sight to the door all the way at the other end of the venue.
My heart trips over itself as Holley and Chloe walk in the door together, arm in arm with a suit-wearing, older, bald man. I don’t recognize him, but I don’t feel any sort of immediate threat from his presence either. And the truth is, when I get one look at the woman I’m waiting for, I can’t even pretend to pay attention to him anymore. In a long black dress with a plunging neckline, Holley’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of and more. Her lips are painted a dark red, her eyebrows heavy with attitude. Her jade eyes sparkle against the neutral background of the rest of her outfit, and it’s all I can do to keep myself standing.
A hand goes to my chest as my breath leaves, desperate to put some pressure on the rapidly forming void. I know what I need to fill it—I can’t take my eyes off her.
The three of them are stopped by a woman in a bright-red dress not far inside the entrance, and everything inside me vibrates. They unlink arms then, and the man—who, now that I look at him more closely, has got to be Holley’s father—turns to Chloe and says something to make her smile.