Текст книги "Lead Him Not Into Temptation"
Автор книги: M. L. Steinbrunn
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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 11 страниц)
Jen
“Am I understanding this correctly? Casen found your aunt’s letter about the daughter you were forced to give up for adoption, who your aunt actually hid instead and he arranged a reunion for you all?” Vivian asks, throwing herself onto her plush loveseat and digging into a bag of Snickers.
I nod, insecure about my friends’ reactions to my tainted past.
“And you haven’t seen him since that night?” Carly adds, throwing a few Skittles into her mouth.
“He’s texted me and I’ve texted back, but I haven’t seen him. I don’t know what to say. I’m thankful for what he did, but I’m embarrassed at the same time. I never told him about Abby. I’ve spent the last decade trying to forget she existed. I never in a million years thought I would have a chance to see her again, let alone be her mother.” The entire situation has made me physically sick. This week away from him has plagued my body to the point I think I’ve caught the flu.
“So, is she going to come live with you? What’s the plan?” Vivian asks.
I slide off of the couch onto the floor and bury my face in my hands. I’m sure I’ve smeared whatever makeup is left on my face. “We’re taking things slow. We have some visits planned to get to know each other, and we’ll take it from there,” I explain.
My stomach rumbles and a wave of nausea hits me. I knew I should have stayed home; Brooks will kill me if I get his pregnant wife sick.
Vivian unwraps a Snickers and hands it to me. “Here, hun, chocolate makes everything better.”
I pop the little morsel in my mouth, but the instant my taste buds recognize the velvety milk-chocolate, the slight nauseous feeling from a few minutes ago escalates which forces me to test my indoor track skills. Without a word, I stand and sprint to the bathroom to rid myself of not only the Snickers but also the few saltine crackers I had managed to keep down.
I feel a cool washcloth on the back of my neck and then a bottle of water is placed on the floor next to me. Through the haze of my misery I hear Vivian’s voice, “Are you okay, hun?”
I use the cloth to wipe my neck and face before taking a drink of the cold water to calm my burning throat. “This whole situation has me so upset. I think I’m coming down with the flu.”
Expecting nothing less, Vivian feels my forehead for fever. “You don’t feel warm, are you sure it’s the flu?” she says, helping me off the floor. She puts the toilet seat down and helps me sit down.
“Of course,” I insist. “All week I’ve been worn down and tired and I can’t keep anything down. My throat doesn’t hurt so I don’t think it is strep. Even the smell of my lattes make me sick, so I’ve had the worst caffeine headache the last few days.”
Vivian begins to rummage through her medicine cabinet above the sink, and I’m hoping she finds a bucket of Pepto Bismol and a bottle of aspirin. I’m stunned with what she pulls out and places on the counter instead.
“A pregnancy test? Really, Viv? I need to rest for a few days and I’ll be fine.”
Vivian ignores my protest and begins unwrapping the packaging. “Jen, do you realize how many of these I’ve peed on? I’ve given birth to two babies and am pregnant with another, I think I’m familiar with the symptoms of pregnancy. Plus, I’ve known you long enough to know the signs of denial.”
She hands me the stick and smiles gently. “Just pee on the damn stick.”
I snag it from her hand with an eye roll. “Fine,” I relent. “If it will make you feel better.”
Vivian opens the door to give me a little privacy and as the door opens Carly and Campbell, who have apparently been eavesdropping, fall into the doorway of bathroom.
“Holy shit, Jen,” Carly shouts, staring at the test in my hand.
“Sorry,” Cam offers. “We just wanted to make sure you were all right.”
Vivian pushes them both out of the room and begins to close the door. “We’ll be right out here when you’re done; I’ll even have the Pepto ready for you.” She closes the door and leaves me with the stick of fate.
Holding it in my hand, I mentally run through my womanly calendar. When the dates play through my head, I realize the likelihood the result of this test probably won’t be what I expected. I’ve been so consumed with the situation surrounding my aunt and daughter, I hadn’t noticed I was not only sick but also late.
Worry overtakes me. I just found out about my daughter, adding an infant seems like more than I can handle. Even my friends know I’m anything but maternal. One of the reasons I gave Carly my cat was because I kept forgetting to feed it. I don’t have plants because every plant I’ve brought into my apartment has shriveled up and died from lack of water. Hell, I have like ten half-used bottles of vitamins because I can’t remember to take them every day.
Then there’s Casen to think about. He just got a record deal. How fair would it be to throw a baby into the mix? I know how much he wants a family, and as much as he loves music, he would probably give up the deal for a baby. I don’t think I could let him do that.
Unsure of everything, I take the test, lay it on the counter, and leave the bathroom before the results appear.
The girls are waiting anxiously for me in the living room. Vivian, as promised, has a cup of Pepto waiting for me. I take it from her, guzzle the chalky substance down, and walk across the room to sit down. Their eyes follow me as I sit in the recliner.
“Well, what did it say?” Carly says, breaking through the silence.
“I don’t know, I haven’t looked. It’s sitting on the counter. I don’t think I can look.”
Carly and Vivian run to the bathroom, almost knocking each other down in the process. They slowly return with the test, their pale faces and wide eyes are all the confirmation I need.
“Positive, huh?” I say, shell-shocked from my new predicament.
Vivian lays the test on the coffee table, the two pink lines glaring at me…mocking me. The girls take up spots on the couch and loveseat, their shocked expressions matching mine.
“How are you holding up?” Campbell asks, reading my unease.
“What do you mean? This is fantastic!” Carly interjects enthusiastically. “You and Vivian, two babies. How wonderful!”
Campbell offers a me a look of sympathy. We all are aware of Carly’s struggles to get pregnant, and now her marital issues. To not only show a lack of enthusiasm but to inform her I’m not sure if I’ll be keeping the baby will be like a slap to the face. It will hurt her deeply, but I have to remember this is my situation, not hers.
“Carly, hun, I need to think things through before I make any decisions about this baby.”
Her faces scrunches, her disapproval written all over it. “What do you mean, decisions? You would consider not having it?”
“Easy guys,” Vivian warns. “This is all a bit of a shock; we shouldn’t let our emotions run away with us.”
“No,” she snaps. “There are people in this world who want nothing more than to have a child but can’t, myself included. Yet here you sit with the greatest gift in the world, and you don’t want it.”
“I didn’t say that, Carly,” I defend myself. “I just found out I didn’t lose my daughter. I need to think about if I can handle all of this on my own. Besides, you’ve always been the first one to point out how irresponsible I am and what a terrible mother I would be. Shit, you don’t even want to send Olivia with me on the camping trip.”
“Wait, what do you mean, do it alone, Jen? What about Casen?” Cam inquires. “He’s not the type of guy to let you do this by yourself.”
I’m under a microscope and the scrutiny is becoming extremely uncomfortable. I stand and move to the window, wishing like hell it would open up and the breeze would carry me away from this conversation.
“Jen, what about Casen?” Vivian presses.
I spin around to the group, my patience wearing, my emotions frayed. “Either way, I’m not telling him.”
”What! Why not?” Vivian asks, scooting toward the end of the loveseat.
I sigh and take a seat on the edge of the coffee table, my eyes burning a hole in the beige carpet below my feet. “What kind of person would I be if I told him and put him in a position to choose between the two things he’s always wanted?” I look up and focus my attention on the one person I think will understand me the most. “I love him, Campbell. I love him enough to let him go,” my voice is a mere whisper as emotion chokes my throat. Losing Casen would feel like suffocating, but I can’t take his dream from him either. I know no matter what I say, he would give up music to be with his family.
Campbell slides closer to me and covers my hands with hers. Her voice is soothing, understanding. “Jen, I would never tell you what to do. However, if you love him, don’t you think he deserves to know? What kind of person would you be if you took the choice away from him? “
Vivian stands and moves over to the coffee table to sit beside me. “We are here for you, no matter what, doll. We love you,” she says, placing her hands on Campbell’s which are still resting on mine.
Everyone looks to Carly, who’s been silently hanging back since our emotional eruption. Finally, she slides up next to me on the opposite side of Vivian and rests her hands on the pile. “Jen, you are the most loyal, loving person I know. You are stronger than anyone I know. If there was anyone who could handle all of this, it would be you. But don’t ever think you would do this alone, we will always be there for you. You need to know, hun, I believe in you…we believe in you.”
And just like that, my girls restored my faith in myself. I was going to be a mom, and for once I felt excited about hearing the word.
Jen
What a difference a picture can make. When I had the first sonogram of Abby done, I didn’t even look at it. I didn’t want to get attached to something I couldn’t have. Things are different now. Seeing this baby’s image on the screen and holding the image in my hand, all of the indecision I had a few weeks ago has evaporated. All doubts have transformed into butterflies, which are taking up residence in my stomach; I’m overcome with an excitement I’ve never experienced, and wouldn’t trade for anything.
The second I enter my quaint, little apartment, a place I’ll have to leave soon if I plan on having two children living with me, I enter the kitchen and stick the ultrasound picture on my refrigerator with my favorite X-rated magnet. My naked man-tini will be the first of many things in this apartment, which will need to go when I childproof my previous life from the space.
A faint knock at the front door draws my attention from the picture of my little jellybean. I still can’t believe I already have such an emotional attachment with something which really does look like a jellybean. I told Campbell I would text her after the appointment, but it doesn’t surprise me that one of the girls would show up here to hear all about it. There’s another knock as I walk across the living room to the door. Unlocking the deadbolt and swinging it open, I’m shocked at who is actually standing on the other side of the doorway.
“Hello, Mother.”
I try to examine her appearance as a clue as to what she’s doing here. I haven’t spoken to her in years, and there is no reason I can think of for her unannounced visit. I always knew she and my father kept an eye on things to make sure I didn’t publicly embarrass them, but nothing I’ve done recently should have made it back to them as of yet.
Her Chanel pantsuit is freshly pressed and there isn’t a hair out of place. Nothing about her appearance looks any different from the last time I saw her, except for one noticeable difference. Her iceberg of a wedding ring is missing. She used to flaunt it as a status symbol…this is who I’m married to and this is what he bought me. Her marriage is all she’s ever had. To see her without the ring is alarming.
“I’m sorry to show up like this, I don’t have your phone number. Can I come in?” She looks uneasy and nervous that I may close the door on her, and for a moment, I consider just that.
“Sure,” I quietly say, moving to the side to allow her entry.
She wanders into the living room, examining my pictures, running her hand along the sofa. Really, she’s silently scrutinizing my life, deciding whether she approves of my choices or not. “Your place looks lovely,” she finally announces, taking a seat on the chair.
“What are you doing here?” I question before she gets too comfortable.
“I left your father, and I wanted to let you know.” I sense her unease with not only saying the words, but embracing her new single life.
I sit down on the couch across the room from her, preparing for the massive explanation, which will be coming my way. My mother was happy to look the other way for many years; I can’t imagine what the final straw was which prompted her to leave a life she loved.
“Did something happen?”
“Oh, Jennifer. Too many things have happened. I was too content being oblivious to them. I looked into divorce many times, I just could never find a lawyer who was willing to go up against your father.”
“And that’s changed?” I ask, still not showing much compassion for the woman who also looked the other way when my father sent me away.
“After his latest extramarital indiscretion with his newest twenty-six year old secretary I searched a little harder and found someone to help me. Once I left, I immediately called your Aunt Maggie to find out about you.” Her voice cracks and she covers her mouth, looking away from me.
I grab a tissue from the end table next to me and offer it to her. She accepts and, always the socialite, she delicately dabs her eyes.
“Jennifer, honey, I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you, that I didn’t stand up for you. I’m not expecting you to forgive me. I honestly don’t think I deserve your forgiveness, but I think it’s important you hear the words.”
“I don’t know what to say. It’s been a long time.”
“Too long. I wish I would have had the courage sooner. I want to be a part of your life, if you’ll let me.”
I stay silent, unsure how I feel about her presence in my life.
“I don’t need an answer right now; I just want to put it on the table. This time, on your terms.” She stands up and slides a piece of paper across the coffee table, her phone number written across the card. “When you’re ready, if you’re ever ready, please call,” she says and begins to walk toward the door.
I think of all the relationships that have been damaged, the ones that I’ve lost. If I have a chance to possibly mend one, I don’t want to be the reason it doesn’t happen.
“Mom,” I murmur, prompting her to stop. “Give me some time, but I’ll call.”
She turns and smiles at me before walking out the door.
Casen
Jen has avoided my calls for weeks. I’ve been busy negotiating contracts with the label, but every available moment I have, I try to get a hold of Jen. Any texts I send are responded to with simple sentences or a single word. I realize I overstepped some boundaries, but I refuse to let her shut me out forever. I figure if I show up at her apartment, she can’t avoid me anymore.
My nerves are kicked into overdrive as I climb the stairs to her apartment. I feel my heart beat with each step I take closer to the woman I love. When I finally reach her floor, I pass a well-dressed middle-aged woman in the hallway outside Jen’s apartment. Even though Jen’s building is a decent one, I can’t help but wonder if this lady feels as out of place as she looks. She notices my tattoos and I sense her passing judgment as to the type of guy I am. If I didn’t have manners or a pressing mission to attend to, I would do my best to play up the stereotype and make her feel uncomfortable. That’s what Jen would do. The woman provides a slight smile as we pass each other, and I smile back at the thought of what my sparkplug would say to this woman.
I finally make it to her door and knock, still unsure of what I’m going to say or how to approach her.
“Mom, I said I would call,” she says, opening the door extremely quickly and throwing me off guard. Well, that explains the wealthy woman I saw in the hallway.
“Nope, just me,” I tell her with a wave. “You won’t answer my calls, you left me no choice.”
She nods and moves aside for me to come in, thank God. She leads me to the kitchen and I pull out a barstool at the counter to prepare for the discussion of my life.
As soon as she enters the kitchen, I begin the begging. I need her to forgive the invasion of her privacy. I’m not a groveling man, but the bottom line is, I need this woman.
“I’m sorry for going behind your back, Jen, I didn’t want to hurt you. If anything, I wanted to fix something for you,” I explain.
“I understand why you did it, Casen,” she says, leaning on the counter, her expression giving nothing away as to my fate. “I don’t know if I ever would have had the courage to follow through if you hadn’t set up the meeting. So in a way, I’m thankful you did what you did.”
I must be hallucinating. Never did I think she would be thankful. Pissed, livid, irate…yes, but never thankful. “So where does this leave us then? Are we okay?” I ask, hopeful as to where this conversation is headed.
Instead of answering Jen turns toward the fridge and opens it, hiding her face behind the door. She’s avoiding my question. “Do you want something to drink? I’m going to grab a water.”
I hop off the barstool and move around the counter to stand behind her. “I don’t want a drink, Jen. I want to know if I still have you.”
Her shoulders slump in defeat, and I know it’s not avoidance. She’s hiding something. “You need to focus on the record deal. It’s such a great opportunity, I can’t let you throw that away for me.” Her back is still to me as she stares at the inside of the fridge, which only contains drinks.
Placing my hand on her back, I attempt to soothe her. “I’m not throwing anything way. There’s no reason I can’t have both.” I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her away from the fridge, closing the door once there’s room.
That’s when I see it. The picture, which steals every bit of air from my lungs. My arm around Jen falls away and my focus on her dissipates. Everything falls away except the little bean of a baby in the photo. My world shifts on its axis and I can hardly catch my breath.
“Please tell me it’s mine,” I croak out, strangling on each word.
She turns to face me and nods, tears gathering in her eyes. “Casen,” she whispers.
“Were you going to tell me? Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” I ask, letting the pieces fall into place. I turn and leave the kitchen to give myself some needed space. Jen follows behind me.
“Casen, please. I didn’t want you to feel trapped. You love music, I couldn’t put you a position where you thought you had to choose one or the other,” she pleads as I pace the living room, wearing a hole in the carpet.
“Then don’t make me choose,” I roar. “Besides, family always comes first. If I needed to choose, it would always be you, whether there were kids involved or not. As much as I love music, I love you more.”
“But you’re a musician. What would you be if the music wasn’t there?” she argues, still not understanding what I’m trying to tell her. I offer my hand and she takes it, allowing my fingers to weave between hers. I lead her to the couch and pull her down to my lap.
“I get to be something way more important than some guy who plays guitar in a band, sparky,” I tell her, pushing her hair away from her face and slowly planting soft kisses on both of her cheeks. When she closes her eyes to absorb the feeling of my touch, I lean in and whisper in her ear. “I get to be a dad.”
Hoping to find the conviction behind my words, her head pulls back to dive into my eyes, searching them for sincerity. When she finds the love I’m trying to convey, she places her lips to mine in pursuit of reassurance. Her arms tangle around me and peace surrounds us. We are going to be okay. We are going to be a family.
Jen
“I can be there in fifteen minutes,” I say before ending the call and throwing my phone into my purse. I knew once the guys found out about the baby, they would want to address the issue somehow. I just figured they would work it out with Casen. So, John’s call has me a little flustered.
Slipping on sandals and grabbing my keys, I rush out the door to the pizza place he is supposed to be meeting me at. I haven’t ventured into many restaurants in the last few weeks. Whoever gave morning sickness its name is full of shit because it can hit you anytime of the day and I refuse to throw up in public. I’m hoping that pizza is a safe choice.
I make awesome time, for once, and find a front-row parking spot at Beau Jo’s Pizza. The smell of sausage and homemade bread filter out of the establishment and attack my senses, but thankfully doesn’t spark any waves of queasiness. Swinging open the door, I send up a little prayer that my luck continues and the Hawaiian pizza that I’m about to inhale stays down.
John is standing in the foyer and immediately smiles when he sees me. “Come here, prego,” he says as he picks me up and swings me around. “I’m shocked you’re on time; I thought we’d be waiting for at least another twenty minutes.”
I roll my eyes, at his backwards compliment. He’s like a big teddy bear that you can’t help but love. I only wish he would get a better handle on the idea of personal space. He constantly invades my bubble and doesn’t think twice about it.
“We?” I ask hesitantly when he finally puts me down. “I thought it was just you and I.”
John looks at me apologetically but doesn’t get the opportunity to answer. The men’s room door opens and out walks Royce. “Well, shit. There goes my dinner; the nausea has returned,” I say sarcastically.
“Hey, Yoko, glad you could make it,” he says with a shit eating grin while he adjusts himself.
I narrow my eyes at John, who instantly looks away from me and walks to our table. So I turn my attention to my nemesis.
“Hello Royce. I noticed you’re having a below the belt situation,” I say, pointing to his crotch area. “Did Stacy finally give you the clap or is your dick so small, you pissed on your balls?”
I turn on my heel to catch up to John, but Royce moves quickly placing his arm around my shoulder. “Since you’re curious, I was shifting things around because my anaconda keeps hitting my knee and I need to move the man snake to the other side before it leaves a mark. I bruise like a peach.”
He chuckles at my look of disgust. “You’re so gross,” I insist as I push him away from me and rush to the table. John pulls my chair out for me, and I sit down as I grab a menu to help avoid any more conversation with Royce.
My plan fails when Royce steals my menu and sits across from me. John looks completely embarrassed but says nothing, so I take the initiative. “What do I owe the pleasure, since we apparently, are not having pizza tonight?”
“We come in peace, Jen,” John explains. “Really. We don’t mean to piss you off. Right, Royce?” His lips are tight and his eyes narrow, willing Royce to go with the flow. The ostentatious lead singer I know though is not going to give a shit about the request of his friend.
“You bet.” Royce affirms as he waves over a waitress. “I don’t want to be in the war path of those hormones; a man like me wouldn’t survive.” John shakes his head and rubs his hands across his face like this discussion is torture for him.
The waitress makes her way to our table, but when she begins to address us, Royce speaks over her. “We don’t need to hear the specials, sweetpea. My friend and I will just take whatever you have on tap, but she’s knocked up so just bring her a water.” He points to me and gives me a little wink which earns him the best crusty look I can throw at him. The waitress looks to me for confirmation, and I just give her a nod that the water is fine. I’m thankful when she leaves without asking anything else.
“So. We wanted to invite you here to find out what your intentions are with are boy?” John probes sheepishly.
“Are you fucking kidding me, guys?” I spit out, annoyed with this dinner outing and Royce’s mouth. “This isn’t the 1800’s and Casen and I aren’t in some G-rated courtship. Just ask me what you want to know,” I demand impatiently.
“Simmer it down, Madre,” Royce interjects. “We know that Casen is in love with you, but we also know he loves his music. We just want to make sure that you have his best interest at heart. That you aren’t going to be one of those groupie bitches that snags a man on his way up by getting pregnant, comes between him and his band, and then leaves him when he doesn’t have a penny to his name.”
“I have been with you guys for a while now, and this is really what you think of me?” I ask unsure if I am more hurt than pissed over their accusation.
“No!” John shouts. “We think you’re great. He’ll never admit it, but even Royce thinks so. We just want Casen to be happy. He’s been through a lot, and he would do anything for anyone, without ever expecting anything in return. We want to know that you’ll give as much as you take.”
“And that you won’t break up the band,” Royce interrupts. John elbows him, attempting to shut him up and Royce throws his hands up in defense. “What? We want to know that too.”
“Basically, you think I’m going to steal him away from you guys and make him get some shitty nine to five job to support the baby I stuck him with,” I clarify.
“No!” John contends.
“Yes,” Royce says at the same time.
My face flushes and my body vibrates as the anger takes hold. “You guys are pricks,” I snap, as I push my chair away from the table and begin to stand.
“Stop,” Royce says grabbing my arm, halting my mad dash out of the building. “Please. We just want to make sure that were on the same page, that’s all.”
I take a deep breath and slowly return to me seat. “Fine let’s hear it.”
“We all think you’re a kickass chick, Jen,” Royce begins.
I tilt my head and narrow my eyes at him, disbelieving his attempt at a compliment.
“We really do,” John adds.
“The band is supposed to start recording in a month or so,” Royce continues. “Casen has always wanted to be a dad, and he’s always wanted to play his music. We need to know that you’re going to be okay with how life will change for all of us, that you won’t hurt him. He deserves to have both of his dreams come true.”
Taking my time to rein in my fury and compose myself, I gather the words that I need to tell these two. “I know what it’s like to be in the public eye,” I tell them. “There are some great perks, of course, but there is also some fucked up things that come along with fame. None of it is going to scare me away from Casen, guys. I’m here to stay, so you better start treating me like the kickass chick that I am.”
Royce cracks a smile. “I can live with that,” he says, lightly smacking my back.
“Good. Now buy me a damn Hawaiian pizza.”
