Wrong Question, Right Answer

by Elle Casey

  I shake my head at him. “I love how you’re so casual about all of this. I hope you realize it’s not just my life that’s going to completely change.”

  He leans in and puts his hand on my knee. “Trust me, I understand. I’ve been thinking about it ever since we were here in the kitchen last time.”

  My mind rewinds back to that moment when we were rolling around on the floor, just before we realized the colossal mistake we’d made. I nod absently. I cannot wrap my brain around how much my life has changed in such a short period of time. And nobody even really knows yet. I can’t imagine what Thibault, Dev, and Ozzie are going to say. I can, however, imagine what May and Jenny are going to do: they’re going to flip their wigs. I’m not looking forward to the crazy enthusiasm. Even the idea of it makes me queasy.

  “What are you thinking right now?” Lucky asks me.

  “I’m thinking about how this will affect the team.”

  Lucky nods before taking a sip of his tea, wincing at the heat. “Things are going to change, that’s for sure. But it doesn’t have to be bad.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. Your life with the team isn’t going to change at all.” I sound bitter, I know I do, but who can blame me? “I don’t want you saying anything to anybody about this.”

  He frowns at me. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I don’t want you to say anything. This is my business, and I’m going to decide when the team is informed about the situation, not you.”

  I can tell by the way he sits up straighter and throws his shoulders back that he doesn’t agree. “We’ll see.”

  I shake my head, sitting up straight myself. “No, we won’t see. This is my decision, not yours.”

  He cocks his head at me. “How do you figure? It’s my child too.”

  I’m not going to play dirty and pretend like it could be anyone else’s, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to start deciding what I do with my life. “We need to get something straight here, Lucky . . . Just because you failed to wear a condom, it doesn’t mean that you suddenly get to make decisions for me about how I live my life.”

  Two bright red spots show up on his cheeks and his jaw muscle bounces a couple times as he works to control his anger. He speaks in a very calm voice. “I don’t appreciate the way you’re wording that, because I believe you’re being unfair.”

  He has chosen his words very carefully, but I don’t care. This is a conversation that we need to have right now, get it over with. I don’t want him going into this thing under any illusions. I work to keep my tone civil.

  “I’m sorry you don’t like the way I am talking right now, but that doesn’t change the facts. This is my body. And my work is my business. I will decide when, where, and how anyone on the team is informed about my condition, not you.”

  He takes a slow sip of his tea and waits almost a full minute before responding. The tension in the room is palpable. “I agree that it’s your body hosting our child; however, the life inside it is as much my responsibility as it is yours, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep my child safe.”

  I narrow my eyes at him and my nostrils flare. He’s begging for a fat lip. “Are you suggesting that I feel differently? That I would risk my child’s safety?”

  He shakes his head, his chin jutting out. “I’m not suggesting anything. But I think we both know that it’s in your personality to take certain risks, and that you might not fully appreciate some of the risks you’re taking until it’s too late.”

  I’m trying so hard to stay cool right now, but my voice gives me away, going higher. “No, I don’t agree to that. I know exactly what I’m capable of, and I know exactly what risk I’m taking every time I walk out the front door.”

  “Please don’t get mad at me when I say this,” he begs, leaning closer, “but sometimes, maybe a lot of times, you’re impulsive and reckless, Toni. Just by getting behind the wheel you put yourself at risk. You have more speeding tickets than anyone on the team.”

  He’s playing dirty now, and I’m not going to stand for any of that crap. “Screw you, Lucky.” I stand up, my chair sliding out behind me with a loud screech. I point to the hallway. “Get out of my house.”

  He shakes his head slowly, looking up at me, his jaw set firm and his gaze unflinching. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me for at least the next nine months and probably longer.”

  I am so pissed at this alpha male bullshit, I don’t know what to say. He’s come in here and just railroaded me like he has the right to do it, like he hasn’t known me forever and has forgotten what I do to guys who make me angry.

  I breathe in and out deeply, trying to slow my respirations and calm myself down. He accused me of being reckless and crazy basically, so attacking him right now as a pregnant woman is probably not the best way to argue that he’s wrong. When I can finally speak I’m proud that my voice comes out level and controlled.

  “I appreciate that you think you’re doing the right thing by moving in here, but I’m sorry; I’m not ready for that. I don’t want you here. You need to take your bags back out to your car and go. I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk to you again.” I turn around to leave the kitchen, and his voice follows me out.

  “We can talk about it more tomorrow, but I care about you and I really want to do my part. I need to!”

  I pause in the middle of the hallway, trying to decide how to handle the situation. The decision is taken out of my hands when a knock comes at the front door and a key sounds in the lock.

  I close my eyes and take another deep breath. What the hell is this? God, haven’t you punished me enough?

  The door opens and Thibault pokes his head in. “Hey, Sis. Glad I caught you awake.”

  I throw my hand up and let it drop down to slap my thigh. “Sure, come on in. Everyone else has.”

  Thibault steps into the front hallway, his eyebrows pulling together at the sight of all the suitcases in front of him. “Are you going somewhere?”

  All I can do is shake my head. I’m too pissed to speak. A noise behind me tells me that Lucky has come from the kitchen to join us.

  “Hey, man.” Lucky stands just next to me, his hands shoved into his front pockets.

  Thibault gives him a half smile. “Hey. What’s up?” He looks at Lucky and then me and the suitcases. I can almost see the gears turning in his head.

  I turn and glare at Lucky, trying to tell him with a look that he’d better not say anything to Thibault about the situation.

  “I’m moving in,” Lucky says.

  It’s taking every ounce of strength that I have not to slug him in the gut and knock all the wind out of him. Maybe he senses it, because he steps sideways and moves around me, walking over to greet Thibault with a handshake. “Your sister’s going to need some help around here.”

  Thibault grips his friend’s hand, but it’s obvious he has no idea what’s going on. “Help?” He shifts his gaze to me. “Are you remodeling or something?”

  All I can do is shake my head. I’m so angry I don’t trust myself to speak. But it doesn’t matter, because Lucky’s on a roll, the asshole. He doesn’t look at me; all of his attention is focused on my brother.

  “No, she’s not remodeling. She’s . . .” He stops, maybe finally realizing he’s gone too far.

  Better late than never.

  “She’s what?” Thibault asks. He turns his attention to me. “Are you sick?”

  “No, I’m not sick. Not exactly. I’m pregnant.”

  The only audible sound now is the ticking of the wall clock my grandfather left me. And then the little door on the front of it opens and a tiny bluebird comes out and starts mocking me. Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo . . . He says I’m cuckoo ten times, and I can’t say as I disagree.

  When the bird is done mocking me, Thibault responds. “Uhhh . . . I’m sorry . . . I think I heard you wrong. I could’ve sworn you said that you’re pregnant.” He glares at Lucky and then at me.

  B
efore Lucky can say anything else, I throw both hands up like two stop signs. “Stop talking! We are not discussing this right now!” I glare at Lucky. “I told you to take your bags and get the hell out of my house, and I meant it.” I point at his suitcases. “Start gathering your shit or I’m going to throw it out on the front lawn.”

  Thibault moves to stand between us, placing one hand on Lucky’s shoulder and one on mine. My attempt to knock him away is futile; Thibault’s grip is like iron.

  “I don’t know exactly what’s going on here, but I think you guys need a referee.” He pushes us both toward the kitchen. “Go on. Go sit down.”

  Normally when my brother starts acting like my father used to I tell him to screw off, but this time there’s a little piece of me that wants him to take over. I want him to stare Lucky in the eye and tell him to fuck off. I need somebody on my side, especially now when it feels like Lucky is standing opposite me, and Lucky’s never been in that place before.

  “You can say whatever you want, but I’m not going anywhere,” Lucky proclaims as he heads to the kitchen.

  Thibault says nothing and neither do I, and it makes me feel even more united with my brother than I did two seconds ago. It gives me confidence and fills me with hope. I am not going to be railroaded just because I’m pregnant. I am Toni the badass, according to my teammate May, and I am perfectly capable of doing all the things I’ve always done, and I don’t need anyone’s permission to do them. May’s statement about me earlier today makes me proud of myself. I should probably thank her for having so much faith in my strength when it seems like no one else does.

  Thibault takes another chair at the table, and I sit back down in front of my mug. The tea is cold, but I don’t want it anyway. Lucky made it.

  “So, is this true?” Thibault has turned his attention fully on me. “You’re sure?”

  I squirm under the attention. “Maybe. Yes. I guess.”

  His right eyebrow goes up. “It should be an easy question to answer. Are you or are you not pregnant?”

  I grit my teeth a couple times to keep from growling at him. “Yes. Fine. I’m pregnant.”

  His expression softens. “Are you absolutely sure? Have you been tested?”

  Lucky speaks up as my mouth opens to answer. “She did four different tests. It’s for sure. She’s pregnant.”

  I whip my head in his direction. “Do not speak for me. I am perfectly capable of answering my brother’s questions without your help.”

  Lucky looks over at Thibault. “I’m here to be supportive, but she’s not happy about it, obviously.”

  Thibault looks at Lucky, his expression as tough as I’ve ever seen it. “Maybe it’s your approach that’s the problem, bro.”

  Lucky is clearly surprised by the attitude. Joy surges through me.

  “Toni knows I love her, man.” He looks at me. “You know I do, Toni. You know I have your best interests at heart.”

  My heart feels like it’s going to collapse in on itself. He used the L word. He probably doesn’t even realize he said it, the idiot. “You don’t decide what’s best for me.” I jab my thumb into my chest. “I decide.”

  Thibault holds up his hands like he’s trying to slow us down. “Okay, I get that this is a seriously stressful situation, but I think we can work through this together without any bloodshed.”

  I’m not against shedding a little of Lucky’s blood at this point.

  Thibault folds his hands and rests them on the table. “Toni, everybody on the team knows that you’re one hundred percent capable of taking care of yourself.”

  I nod. “Thank you.” I sneer at Lucky. Told you so, jerk.

  “However, I think anyone who knows anything about pregnancy and childbirth knows that it’s much easier when you have a partner to help you through it.”

  I glare at my brother. Traitor. “I don’t need anyone.”

  Thibault reaches over to take my hand, but I yank it away and rest my hands in my lap. He is not going to try to manipulate me by acting all nicey nice.

  “Everybody needs somebody, and you’re no exception, young lady.”

  My eyebrows go up. “You better be careful, bro. You don’t get to call me ‘young lady’ and get away with it.”

  He smiles, the bastard. “Sorry. I was channeling Dad there.”

  “Bad move.”

  He nods. “Yeah. It just slipped out. Sorry.”

  I look at the two severely misguided men sitting in front of me and shake my head. “I don’t know why you suddenly see this little girl who needs everybody’s help sitting in front of you. Just because I’m pregnant, it doesn’t change who I am. What’s wrong with you guys?”

  Lucky might be a tiny bit contrite. “I don’t know. Logically I know you’re as tough as ever.” He shrugs. “I can’t say why, but I’m definitely looking at you differently now. I guess I’m just a sexist pig or something.” He looks down at the table with a confused expression on his face.

  I slap my hand on the table. “Well, don’t be that person! You’ve never been a sexist pig before, so don’t start now. I’m still the same girl I was two weeks ago. Nothing has changed.”

  Thibault is shaking his head, his expression concerned.

  I turn on him. “What? What’s your problem?”

  He’s looking at me like he’s one of our parents again. “You know that’s not exactly true, Toni. Things have changed. You’re pregnant, and you can’t just disregard that fact. You have to deal with it.”

  It’s not his words that have my back up so much as the tone he uses. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that your duties at work are going to have to change.” Thibault looks over at Lucky, and Lucky nods. They both look sad, but they’re not nearly as sad as I am. I’m battling tears.

  “Why? Nothing has to change as far as I’m concerned.”

  Thibault sits back and sighs. “You forget that I’m the one who handles the insurance for the group. I have to manage our risks to the extent possible. Sending you out into the field, into those neighborhoods where we go, is not an option right now. You’ll have to work a lot more inside the warehouse. We need to lower your personal risk to as close to zero as we can.”

  Thibault’s my brother, but he’s also kind of my boss. If I fly off the handle now, he’ll know that I can’t handle my shit when stuff gets hard.

  “I can see why you would think that, but you know that when I go out in the field it’s pretty much no risk. We just go out, take a look at things, and come back and talk about it. That’s it.”

  Thibault’s brows go up. “I read May’s report about what went down today. I wouldn’t exactly call that a no-risk situation.”

  I want to explode, I’m so angry. “What report? I’m the one who was supposed to write the report, and I haven’t submitted it yet.”

  “Actually, you were both supposed to submit a report together, but since you left work early, May did it herself. And I’m glad she did, because its contents are germane to this conversation.”

  Breathe in for five seconds, breathe out for six. In for five, out for six. It’s the only way I can keep from jumping up and punching a hole in the wall.

  Lucky leans in and puts his hand on my knee. “Babe, I can see you’re upset, but I wish you would just listen to your brother for a minute.”

  I don’t move a single millimeter. I just look at him, my expression dead. “I hear everything you’re both saying. Trust me.” Obviously, this pregnancy has turned them both into cavemen, but I’ve got news for them: I ain’t no cavewoman.

  He’s almost pleading now. “I know you hear the words, but I’m not sure you appreciate where they’re coming from. We just care about you so much, and we worry that in an effort to prove yourself, you’ll take too much risk and end up getting hurt. You could hurt the baby.”

  Tears rush to my eyes, and I battle to keep them from falling down my cheeks. “Are you saying that I’m the type of mother who would intentionally h
urt her child?” I guess I can’t blame him for thinking that; I am a murderer after all. But it still hurts.

  He grips my knee hard. “No, I would never say that. And I would never think it, either. You’re misunderstanding me.”

  “Toni, come on, you know he didn’t mean it that way.” Thibault sounds disappointed in me, which feels like a knife to the gut. “Stop turning this into a pity party.”

  I stand slowly, unable to deal with these idiots anymore. “It’s late. And as you’ve pointed out many times already, I’m pregnant, and I guess that means I’m more tired than I would normally be. So I’m going to go upstairs and leave you cavemen down here to make your plans and dream your dreams about how you’re going to start running my life for me. But . . .” I look at each of them in turn, “. . . you need to keep something very clear in your heads: this is my life and my body and I’m going to do whatever the hell I want with it. And if you try to control me or if you try to tell me how I’m going to live, you’re going to be very sorry.”

  I spin on my heel and leave the room, slowly mounting the steps as my heart cracks into a bunch of small pieces. I’m so mad at them at this point, I’d be willing to walk away from Bourbon Street Boys altogether. It’s killing me.

  Whenever the vague idea of being pregnant entered my mind before, I imagined it being pretty crappy, but I never thought it would be this awful. Two of the four men in my life, guys who I respect more than anything in the world, have essentially turned on me. They’re treating me like an idiot, like a possession. Like they don’t know me at all. I feel so alone. Where have all the men who respected me gone?

  Then I remember: I don’t just have Thibault and Lucky at my back. They’re not the only ones who respect who I am and what I’m all about. The thought brings instant relief and a plan. I’m going to wake up tomorrow morning first thing and go talk to Ozzie about this. Ozzie will fix it. Ozzie will know what to do. I know I can count on him.