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“Are those from a boy?”

“Izzie!”

She was only six, but man, she was smart. “What?” she asked defensively.

“Are you watering the garden or what?”

“Fine. I’ll butt out,” she conceded, handing me the roses.

“Thank you,” I said with a smile. Then I kissed both her cheeks and walked into the house, still unable to believe Preston dropped off flowers.

While Isabelle was in the shower, I called and thanked him.

“Can I come over tonight after you put Izzie to bed?”

My first thought was Laura. A, we were in a fight, and B, this was the worst time for her to meet the father of her future niece or nephew. Then I thought of C, which was myself. “Sure,” I smiled, “Come around 9:00.”

Laura got home from work around 6:00 and tried to apologize to me. I was in the kitchen making Isabelle a hot dog, and making apple salsa.

“Are those walnuts you’re putting in that salsa?” my sister asked.

My assistant, who was sitting on the kitchen counter mixing the ingredients, answered, “Yeah, and there’s cinnamon in it too.”

“Yum!” said Laura, “Can I try?”

“Sure,” answered her niece.

Laura put a spoon into the bowl and then tasted the salsa. “Em, I swear to God, you should go into business! This is yummy.”

I completely ignored her.

“Hey, Izzie, will you go upstairs and get me a hair band?” Laura asked. It was obvious that her motive of sending my child away was to be alone with me.

“Sure,” said Isabelle, jumping off the counter and running off.

“Em, please talk to me.”

“Nothing to say,” I answered coldly.

“You can’t see things clearly!” she exclaimed, “You’re not thinking. I’m trying to help you!”

I turned to her. “Laura, you’re the one who can’t see things clearly. Stay out of this. If you’re not going to stand by me, then butt out.”

“Stand by you? And watch you ruin your life? And your daughter’s life?”

I couldn’t take it anymore, so I shouted, “Watch me ruin my life? What a joke! I watched you ruin yours twenty-three years ago! I knew marrying Alan was a mistake, but I stood by and let you live your life! And I never judged you! All I want is your support. I think what I’m doing is the right thing. You don’t know how I feel!”

“No, I guess I don’t,” she answered sadly.

“Here, Aunt Laura,” said Izzie, back with the hair band.

“Thanks, cutie,” she said, giving her niece a kiss on the cheek. Then she said to me, “I’m going upstairs to change, and then I’m going out. Please think about what I said.”

I didn’t answer back. Instead I watched my daughter chase after her aunt and ask where she was going. I heard Laura tell her she was going out to dinner with a friend. I knew right away it was a date. I also knew it was with Dan from the night before.

When my sister left my house, I never even looked at her. Major guilt crept in because I knew she’d probably struggled with her outfit and that she was wishing she had my opinion. Still I stayed away, acting cold and bitter and angry.

Later that night, I put Izzie to bed, and she asked me why I was angry at Aunt Laura.

“We just disagree about a lot of things,” I told my daughter.

“What’s disagree?”

“We have different opinions about things.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Someday you will, when you’re older.”

“Do you still love Aunt Laura?”

“Oh yes,” I said with a smile, and right then I began to soften about my sister, “You can disagree but still love someone.”

“Are you guys best friends?”

I laughed, “Yeah, I guess we are.”

“I knew it.”

“Well, you and I are best friends, too, aren’t we?”

“You and me?” she asked.

“Yeah! You and me!” Then I hugged my daughter as hard as I could.

“Hey mommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Were you and daddy best friends?”

“Yes, sweetie, we were.”

“Did you and Dad ever disagree?”

“Man, you’re smart!” I declared, “Go to sleep!”

I must have kissed her good-night 25 times before I left the room, perhaps trying to make up for what she had just confirmed: her knowing that her mom and dad used to argue.

I shut her door, and then went downstairs and into the kitchen. I took out the apple salsa, some chips and apple slices, and put them on the table for my date. Preston arrived promptly at 9:00, and the way he kissed me was heavenly. I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination, but there was meaning in it, as if our relationship had suddenly transformed from lust into something deeper.

We ended up sitting at my kitchen table, eating the chips and salsa and talking about the baby.

“What do you think it is?” he asked me.

“Boy.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I just have a gut feeling.”

“Can we name it after me?” he asked.

“No way,” I said with a laugh.

“Why not?”

“I’m having a hard enough time figuring out how I’m going to tell my mother I’m having a baby whose legal last name is going to be Christiansen! If I tell her his first name’s going to be Preston, I think she may go into shock.”

Preston laughed. Then he did something endearing and unforgettable. “Come here,” he whispered, taking me onto his lap. He lifted up my t-shirt and kissed my stomach. “Are you going to get really big?” he asked.

“Yup,” I said with a laugh.

He kissed it again. Then he gently kissed my lips. Then he kissed me harder. And harder. And we kissed for a long time.

It was interesting because ordinarily, clothes would have been flying off of us, but now, everything seemed to be different all of a sudden, like our relationship had just changed. Granted, my daugh/ter was upstairs sleeping, and I wasn’t going to risk having sex in my house while she was there. But still, neither of the two people who previously felt it impossible to keep our hands off of each other were interested in doing anything besides kissing. And it seemed like both a good and a bad thing.

After we were done smooching, we plopped on the couch and watched TV. Ironically, the movie
He’s Just Not That Into You
was on, starring my boyfriend, Bradley Cooper. Preston had his arms around me, and that’s when I started to think about Luke. Sitting here with Preston didn’t really feel natural. Lying on the sand with Luke did. Preston was the fun, wild, spontaneous guy in my life. He wasn’t supposed to be the person watching Bradley Cooper and cuddling with me. Luke was. Or maybe someone else. But not the man with whom I ate salsa naked, or the person who I had sex with in a forest preserve. This is not the man to watch TV and snuggle with, and let’s be honest, have a baby with. I mean, Preston had never even met my daughter, other than for five minutes at the McGowan’s house. Nevertheless, life in my belly always seemed to win the argument against reason. So, I continued to accept fate and go with it.

When he left, Preston kissed me good-bye and gave me a smile I knew was genuine.

“I still can’t believe we’re doing this,” I said softly to him.

“Me neither,” he said, “But for once in my life, I’m taking responsibility and it feels good. It feels really good.”

I wished right then I could say the same, but I didn’t feel that way. Preston was supposed to be my boy toy. Now he was turning out to be the father of my child who would be in my life forever. And regardless of my feelings for Luke, it really didn’t seem right.

Then again, the events that had taken place in the past had shaped who I was now. Sam’s death had led me to isolation and misery like none I’d ever experienced, followed by a crazy physical attraction that had led to a life. And that made logic go right out the window. Following protocol seemed so unnecessary. There were no rules anymore. Just life and death.

Preston and I were having a baby. That didn’t mean we had to get married and live happily ever after. I felt okay with accepting the fact that God gave me a fetus. It was a miracle, and that was good enough for me. And my sister didn’t understand this. Probably never would with her closed-minded attitude and her pragmatic approach to life. But I did.

This was life on my terms, no one else’s. The accident that now lived in my belly was mine and Preston’s. He or she was also my daughter’s sibling, who we would all love. And regardless of my gut instinct telling me I was nuts for going through with this, once again, I felt like the miracle of life was taking precedence over normalcy.

And then, just as I was feeling peaceful and happy and somewhat serene for the first time all night, that’s when I went to the bathroom and saw blood gushing out of me.

.

Chapter 16

D
ozens of emotions were running wild inside of me. Panic, shock, confusion, devastation, sadness. The worst one of all, though, was relief. I sat there thinking, ‘I’m off the hook,’ these words ironically making me even more upset because I felt guilty for being partially thankful that I was losing this baby. Then again, I was losing this baby! The child who was inside me, even if just for a short time, was never going to be.

I began to cry, the tears flowing as fast as they did in the dark days of the previous year, the year of Sam’s death. I sobbed for a long time. Then I took a shower, wondering the entire time while hot water streamed down on me, how I was going to tell the father.

Do I call him? Do I tell him in person? I asked myself, as beads of sweat began to form on my forehead, caused both by hot steam and the anxiety of thinking about how hard Preston might take the news. I got out of the shower, put on some sweats, and fell asleep in literally less than a minute. I was wiped out.

Very late in the night, I was awakened by the noise of someone coming up the stairs. I knew right away that it was my sister. I looked at the clock. 3:22! Laura, Miss Conservative was getting home from a date in the early morning hours! I found myself very happy for her. Perhaps for the first time in her life, she was allowing herself to have fun. In my eyes, my sister was finally living.

I wanted so much to go talk to her, but I couldn’t bring myself to get up for two reasons. First, I was still extremely angry with her, my idiotic stubborn side stopping me from giving in, and secondly, I was drained and weak and exhausted, not to mention in pain due to severe cramping. When my thoughts shifted from Laura and Dan’s date back to my now empty womb and my baby who would never be, I began to weep again. I cried quietly until I eventually fell back asleep.

Awake again at 6:30, still in a little bit of pain, I was tossing and turning, trying to fall back to sleep. A few minutes later, I made the decision to give up and go downstairs. And once I found myself standing in my kitchen with nothing to do, I did what I always did. I made salsa. It was the one task always guaranteed to cause a diversion, and right now I sure needed one.

I opened the fridge and took out two large green peppers, a bunch of cilantro, two jalapenos and a large watermelon. Then I began furiously seeding and cutting and mixing, anything to take me away from the realization that I had to deal with loss. Again.

“Watermelon salsa?” I heard Laura say, “Now I’ve seen it all.”

I turned to my sister, who was standing there in a t-shirt and socks, looking exhausted, but happy.

“Hi,” I said flatly.

“Hi?” she laughed, “You actually said something to me?”

I couldn’t help but giggle.

“Listen,” she began, “I have to tell you something.”

“Laura…”

“No, let me say something. I want to apologize. You were right. If you want to have a baby, I shouldn’t be talking you out of it. I’ve always been too much of a conformist, too old-fashioned. I’m sorry, Emmie.” She hugged me, and that’s when I lost it, and I mean
really
lost it. I began to sob uncontrollably.

“Shhh,” said my sister, who was like a means of life-support to me at this moment, “It’s okay. I’m here with you and I will help you, and we’ll make everyone understand. And I’ll love your baby just like I love Izzie.”

I pulled away from her embrace and managed to say through tears, “No, you don’t understand. I lost the baby.”

Laura gasped. “What? When?”

“Last night before I went to bed,” I said, breaking down again. My big sister immediately pulled me to her and held me tight.

She whispered, “It’s okay.” She put her soothing hand over my hair and said, “I’m so sorry.”

I pulled away and looked right at her. “Thank you,” I said softly, “Thank you for accepting me for the person I am. I appreciate it.”

Laura took a big piece of my hair and put it behind my ear. Then she looked into my eyes and said softly, “Things happen. How we deal with them is how we find out what we’re made of.”

“You’re right.”

“You should probably call your doctor today and tell her.”

“Okay, I will.”

“And drink lots of water and Gatorade and stay in bed and just rest today.”

“Yes, Doctor,” I said with a smile, “I will.”

Laura hugged me again and I cried for what seemed like a long time. “Thanks for taking care of me. You’re a good doctor.”

Laura laughed.

“And a good sister.”

“So are you, my sweet Emmie.”