by M. S. Parker
Cain was stretched out on the couch in our small lobby, and he sat up when the door sensor dinged, alerting him to my arrival. When he saw it was me, he frowned. “What are you doing here? Is something wrong?”
I shook my head. “I just left my insurance paperwork here.”
He stood, following me to my office. “You came in on Christmas Eve to get insurance papers?”
I had to tell him anyway, and his question meant I didn’t need to try to find some awkward way to introduce my news into a conversation, so I went with it. “Yeah, I need to get Aline covered on my health insurance and listed as the beneficiary for my life insurance.” I picked up the papers and turned to face Cain. “She and I are engaged, and we’re having a baby.”
Cain stared at me without saying a word, like he was waiting for me to say I was joking.
I wasn’t, and I let the seriousness of the situation show in my voice. “She’ll be moving in with me, but I’m not sure exactly what day because we have to decide the best day for us to drive to Stanford and get her things, but we’ll plan it around when I’m scheduled to work.”
“Wow.” Cain shook his head. “Congratulations, man. That’s great.”
Even though he seemed to be sincere, I got the impression that he didn’t really think I’d made the best choices, but since he was at least trying, I wouldn’t call him on it. Sometimes, the best thing to do was just prove people wrong.
“Thanks.” I stuck the papers in a manila envelope. “Everything okay with you?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” Cain sounded confused.
“Because it’s Christmas Eve, and you told all of us not to come in until the weekend, but you’re here.”
He shrugged and gave me a half-smile. “Not all of us have pretty fiancées waiting for us at home.”
It wasn’t until then that I realized I didn’t really know that much about Cain’s personal life, and I was suddenly tempted to ask him if he’d thought about getting back together with Freedom now that they’d reconnected. But that would’ve been a bad idea on a lot of fronts, the first of which was pissing off my boss, and the second was similar.
No way in hell did I want to piss off my future sister-in-law. Things between Aline and Freedom were tense, but I knew that shit happened all the time with siblings, and I wasn’t going to do anything that could keep the two of them from making up.
“Since you do have a pretty…and pregnant…fiancée waiting,” he continued, “why don’t you get out of here and spend some time with her.”
“I’ll do that.” I walked toward the door, but something occurred to me before I reached it. “Hey, if you happen to talk to Freedom, don’t mention any of what I told you. Things are still…tense between the two of them, and Aline should decide when to tell her family.”
“Right.” He nodded. “I won’t say a word to anyone.”
“Thanks, man.” Since neither of us enjoyed unnecessary conversation without a purpose, I left, my mind already jumping ahead to what I could pick up for us to have for lunch.
That’s what I planned to do from here on out. Focus on the future.
Twenty-Eight
Aline
When I woke, it took me a few minutes to remember where I was, but the disorientation itself wasn’t a surprise. In fact, in the last couple months, the times I had known where I was as soon as I woke up had been few and far between.
What was new, however, was the strange weight on my left hand. A weight that drew my attention to it only moments before I remembered what it was.
A ring.
An engagement ring.
As I stared at it, I realized I hadn’t really looked at it last night. I’d just registered that it was pretty, my mind more focused on the fact that Eoin was proposing.
I wasn’t a jeweler, but I’d seen my fair share of engagement rings flashed about during one social event or another. I was ninety-five percent certain that it was white gold. A swirl halo style with a full carat diamond, and smaller diamonds on either side along the front of the band.
It was breath-taking.
I ran my thumb over it, almost like I was trying to convince myself that all of it was real. Eoin McCrae had changed my entire life in a little over a month, starting with literally saving my life. He’d been my first lover and was the father of a child I’d only recently learned I was carrying. He’d aggravated me and thrilled me. He’d given me orgasms that had made me see white and left me pleasantly sated. And even though he hadn’t known me long, my husband-to-be had found the engagement ring I would’ve chosen for myself.
My fiancé.
I was going to get married.
I was going to be a mother.
Maybe not in that order.
I let out a slow breath, thankful that Eoin wasn’t still in bed with me. Yes, we would be sharing a bed on a regular basis soon enough, but at this exact moment, I needed a few minutes to compose myself before I saw him. Prepare to face the reality of what had been a whirlwind night. Because the proposal and everything that had followed had been wonderful, but the baby was very real and needed real-life decisions made.
And it was my responsibility to make them.
No, I silently corrected myself. Our responsibility. Because we were in this together. He’d made that clear even before he’d given me the ring. No matter where things went with us, he wanted to be part of our child’s life. Despite what others may have thought from Eoin’s appearance, I knew how important family was to him. Yes, the proposal had thrown me, but the commitment to the baby hadn’t surprised me in the least.
After I cleaned up a bit, I headed for the kitchen, fully expecting to run into Eoin there, if not on the way. I was a yard or so away when I realized that I didn’t hear any sounds. Not things being moved around, doors opened or closed, not even the whisper of footsteps on the hardwood floor.
The kitchen was empty.
I frowned. I hadn’t expected Eoin to be here making me breakfast or anything like that, but I had thought he’d be here getting himself coffee or something to eat. It was Christmas Eve, and he hadn’t needed to go to work, which I had assumed meant he’d be here.
Before I could start analyzing his absence, however, I spotted a piece of paper on the fridge, and it appeared to have been handwritten. Relieved, I went to it.
Woke up and remembered I’d left something at the office but didn’t want to wake you. I shouldn’t be too long. If there’s anything you need, text me, and I’ll pick it up on my way back.
I felt a little awkward being here without him, but I supposed now was as good a time as any to acclimate to my new surroundings. After all, we were engaged, and he had already started on a nursery, which I assumed meant he intended for us to both – no, all three of us – to live here at some point.
That was when it hit me that we hadn’t talked about when the move would happen or how long our engagement would be. I didn’t know enough about his family to predict whether or not they would approve of us moving in together before we were married, but since I was already pregnant, I couldn’t really see the point of us living apart for appearance’s sake. But I also didn’t know if Eoin planned for a long engagement and some time in his new house by himself.
Guilt gnawed at me. He’d spent his entire adult life serving and protecting our country, only leaving after he was wounded, and when he finally found a place he wanted for his own, he was suddenly pushed into a situation where he couldn’t enjoy that freedom.
I could sympathize, I realized. I’d never lived on my own. Never had a life where I answered only to myself. And when I’d finally broken free, I hadn’t even had the time to adjust to mostly taking care of myself before I’d found out that my short-lived independence had turned into a crash course in all things adult.
My chest tightened, and I had to close my eyes to fight against the nearly overwhelming sensation of drowning. Could I truly do this, or was I simply deceiving myself? Had I made the decision to have and keep this
baby because I would have felt like a failure otherwise? That my family’s opinion of me as an irresponsible and naïve child was justified? Was I in over my head, or would most women who experienced an unplanned pregnancy, regardless of age or circumstances, have similar moments of doubt?
I put my hand on my stomach, trying to decide if I already noticed a difference or if it was just in my head. I was slender enough that I wouldn’t be able to hide it once I did start showing. Not that I felt the need to conceal anything, I firmly told myself.
True, this hadn’t been intentional, but I wasn’t a minor who now had to decide whether or not she could finish high school. I was twenty-two, had a degree in a good field, and the advantage of a trust to ensure that money would never be an issue. Both of those didn’t even take into account Eoin’s involvement.
When he returned, we’d discuss things in more detail now that the emotion of last night had passed. A part of me, however, had the sudden desire to call my parents and confess all, ask for their help. But if I did that in a moment of weakness, I’d never forgive myself. I would just be proving what they’d thought all along.
So, no, I wouldn’t be going to them for advice or help. At least until I spoke with Eoin and determined whether or not I actually did need to do anything more than simply inform them of the changes in my life.
As for my sister, despite how close we’d always been, Freedom was below our parents when it came to people in whom I wished to confide. I had, however, told my parents that I would talk to Freedom before I joined them all for Christmas. Considering today was Christmas Eve, I didn’t have much time left to make good on my promise.
Which meant I needed to call my sister.
I wouldn’t, however, be telling her anything about the baby, Eoin, this place, or the engagement. Not yet.
No, I would keep the conversation firmly fixed on the plans for tomorrow, what I needed to bring, and perhaps tell her a bit about what I’d been doing since Thanksgiving. I could handle that.
I hoped.
I made myself some toast, even though I wasn’t queasy. There was, however, a distinct possibility that talking to my sister would make me sick to my stomach, so I decided that a preemptive strike in the form of breakfast was in order.
My stomach was already churning when I pulled up Freedom’s contact information and made the call. Part of me hoped that it’d go to voicemail, and I could simply leave a message saying that I’d be at Mom and Dad’s tomorrow, but that would only be putting off the inevitable.
“Aline? Are you okay?” The concern in Freedom’s voice both made me feel guilty that I’d worried her, as well as irritated that she seemed to think I was calling because something was wrong.
“I’m fine.” The words came out flat, so I tried again. “I was calling to see what time dinner was tomorrow.”
Freedom wasn’t stupid. She knew that I could have called or texted either of our parents, especially since I’d already spoken to them while avoiding her. She knew I’d intentionally chosen to speak to her.
“So, you’re coming for Christmas?”
Now, I couldn’t hear anything in her tone at all. She was being careful with me in a way she never had been before.
“I am,” I said, being just as careful with her. “Is there anything I’m supposed to bring?”
“Just the usual.”
“I don’t usually bring anything,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, that’s pretty much what they expect of you this time too.”
I wanted to pretend that I didn’t hear the undercurrent of double meaning in her words, but I knew I wasn’t imagining it. She – they – didn’t expect anything of me. Not when it came to practical responsibilities, anyway. Oh, I could be counted on to study for a test and ace it but being in charge of a veggie tray was expecting too much.
I closed my eyes and pushed back my annoyance. I hadn’t called Freedom to continue an argument or even to defend myself.
“Can you get your gifts to the house without a car?” Freedom asked. “I’ll be at Mom and Dad’s by this evening, so I can come pick you up in the morning.”
I didn’t know yet what Eoin’s plans were for tomorrow, but I didn’t think it would be too much to ask him to at least drop me off at my parents’ place, no matter how early it was. It said something that I was more willing to possibly get up insanely early on Christmas Day rather than have to rely on Freedom for transportation.
“It’s not a problem,” I said. “Are we eating at noon?”
“Around then.” After an awkward couple moments, she cleared her throat. “How’s Martina doing?”
That answered any question I had about whether or not our parents had told Freedom where I was, despite the fact that I’d asked them not to say anything to her about where I was staying. At least Freedom hadn’t chosen to use the information to come speak to me in person. Perhaps finding new footing with each other wouldn’t be as complicated as I’d feared.
And then I remembered that she was in Stanford, which could also be an explanation as to why she hadn’t shown up at the apartment. I wasn’t in the mood to figure out which it was, though. Or mention that I wouldn’t trust my parents with any sensitive information soon.
“She’s good. Everyone at Silverton Designs loves her, and she’s one of the most requested stylists on their staff. After the first of the year, they’re going to take her completely off the register and make her only a stylist.”
“That’s good to hear.”
Another few beats of awkward silence, and then it was my turn to ask a question. “How’s Dr. Ipres?”
“She’s doing well,” Freedom said. “She’s taking a sabbatical this summer to visit some relatives in Greece.”
As the conversation drifted off yet again, I internally cringed at the thought of hours of this tomorrow, but I’d already made the promise. Perhaps I’d ask Eoin to go with me. I hadn’t yet decided a timeline regarding what I wanted to reveal or when. Having him there would help center me.
Right now, I needed to end this agony. “Well, I have a couple other calls to make, so I’ll see you tomorrow around noon.”
“All right. I’ll see you then.”
As I ended the call, I breathed a sigh of relief that it was over. Yes, I would see her tomorrow, but I was already planning to avoid any time with her where we didn’t have at least one other person in the room with us. I hated the distance and unease between us, but I had drawn a line in the sand, and I couldn’t go back on it. How my family saw me was too important for me to brush off. For me to have any semblance of adult relationships with them, I had to stick to my guns.
Rather than dwelling on how the call had gone, I picked up my phone to make another call, this one to Martina.
Since Martina was at work, the call went to voicemail, which I’d expected. “Hey, it’s me. I’m still at Eoin’s, and I don’t know how long I’ll be here. Um, a lot’s happened, and I’ll fill you in the next time I see you, but it’s all good stuff. I’m probably going to come by sometime today to get some of my things, but I don’t know if it’ll be before you’re off work or not.” Emotion pricked the backs of my eyes, and I cleared my throat. “Thank you, Martina, for everything. I wouldn’t have gotten through all this without you.”
As I ended the call, I thought how true that last statement was and wondered if I’d ever be able to return the favor someday.
Twenty-Nine
Eoin
Since I didn’t get back to my place – that still sounded strange to me – until close to noon, I wasn’t surprised to hear Aline when I opened the door. I was, however, surprised to see that she was in the kitchen, standing in front of my stove and stirring a pot of…something.
“I’m almost afraid to ask what’s in there,” I said as I set my papers and my bag down on the counter. “I didn’t think I had anything pot-worthy. Mostly frozen dinners and stuff I could grill.”
The smile she gave distracted me for a moment from the fact tha
t she was wearing one of my shirts. Unsurprisingly, it was pretty much a dress on her, the bottom only a couple inches above her knee. My dick perked up at the thought of what she was – or wasn’t – wearing underneath, but I wasn’t going to give in to the urge to take her right here on the counter. I didn’t know how she was feeling this morning, and her well-being was more important than me being horny.
I filed the idea of fucking in the kitchen as something to do at some point in our future.
“I can’t take any credit for it,” she said as she turned back to the pot and continued stirring. “About fifteen minutes ago, one of your neighbors stopped by to introduce himself and brought you some homemade chicken noodle soup. Like the noodles are homemade too. I couldn’t turn that down.”
I didn’t like that she was using your and you, but I supposed it would take a bit to get used to saying our and us. Hell, I was having a hard time wrapping my head around it. But that wasn’t what I wanted to talk about at the moment.
“And would this neighbor happen to be an elderly gentleman without any interest in his definitely taken neighbor?” My tone was teasing, but my stomach had clenched at the thought of her being here alone when a strange man knocked on the door. What if he had been some Ted Bundy type? Shit like that happened.
“No, Kevin looks like he’s about your age.” She glanced over her shoulder at me. “But I got the impression that his husband is closer to mine since he mentioned Landon being a student at UCLA.”
I relaxed, though it was more because of the ‘married’ thing rather than him having a husband. Just because he was with another guy didn’t mean he was only into men. Then again, there were plenty of married serial killers, and sexuality didn’t really mean shit either when it came to stuff like that since–