Not Quite Forever (Not Quite series) (16 page)

“Spit?”

“Yes.”

“Southern women don’t spit.”

Walt wasn’t amused. “Blood in your stomach will make you vomit. Do Southern women puke, Dakota?”

Curse him! He was really starting to piss her off.

If she wasn’t already feeling the overkill of unwelcome fluid in her stomach, she’d argue. Instead, when the need came over her, she lifted a hand to help shield the need to spit.

Disgusting!

“I need to pack your nose.”

“What?”

Didn’t matter what Walt said, Dakota didn’t hear him. Valerie caught her attention, explained what they needed to do.

Instead of arguing, Dakota sat back and closed her eyes.

The pressure and pain of the packing made her want to fight. She didn’t. When they were done, the blood flowing down her throat stopped and she was able to relax. As undignified as it was sitting with her nose stuffed full and a sweater full of blood, she at least felt a little better.

Dakota opened her eyes to find the second nurse gone and Valerie walking out of the room.

Walt sat beside her. “How long have you had the nosebleeds, Dakota?”

“A week, two. I’ve been a little on edge.”

She blew out a sigh.

“A little stress doesn’t do this.” He was pale, not a hint of a smile on his face.

She wasn’t sure what this was, but she knew her blood pressure wasn’t going down with him by her side. “I’m not her, Walt. I’m not dying. It’s a nosebleed.”

His jaw visibly tightened.

Instead of commenting on his emotions, she asked, “How long does this need to stay in?”

“We’ll give it a while, bring your blood pressure down, and see if we can cauterize the bleed.”

“Burn it?”

“Kind of.”

“Great!”

He laid a hand to her side and she pulled away. “I’m trying real hard to calm down here, Doc. The timing of this couldn’t suck more. So give a girl a break and back off.”

“Damn it, Dakota . . . I’m sorry.”

She felt tears and closed her eyes. “Me, too.”

Dakota didn’t sleep that night. Walt left her bedside for nearly an hour before he returned to remove the stupid thing in her nose. He found something to burn, did so, and left again. When she’d left the ER it was just after ten. Boxes of leftover pizza were on the nurse’s desk and the staff was running. She didn’t know where Walt was, and didn’t ask to talk to him. Dakota was just thankful the bleeding had stopped and her head wasn’t as thick as it had been when she walked in.

She held a cold glass of milk and watched the sunrise hours later. The need to get away tugged at her. The last thing she wanted was a guilty doctor showing up at her doorstep making excuses.

He’d walked out of her life.

With her big-girl panties in place, she was willing to move on.

Dakota’s personal physician pushed her into an early appointment. Dr. Chin took care of any ache or pain Dakota could come up with since her move to California. That had been since college.

“Your blood pressure is better today, 146 over 86, but that isn’t great. The last time you were in it was 118 over 62.”

“I’ve never had a problem. I don’t understand what’s happening.”

“Any other symptoms?”

“Headaches. I’m not sleeping . . . but I’ve had a recent breakup.”

Dr. Chin wrote a note in his chart. “Stress was something we called a reason back in the eighties. Now we look for other causes. Any recent illness?”

She shook her head. “I had a urinary tract infection a month and a half ago.”

Dr. Chin flipped through the chart. “Did you go to a clinic?”

“No. I did talk to a doctor. I’ve had them before. A little Bactrim and I was good.”

“Did you finish the prescription?”

“Of course.”

He closed his chart. “I’m going to run a few tests, probably refer you to a cardiologist.”

She couldn’t help but think of Walt’s dad. Pushed the thought aside.

Three vials of blood, one urine sample, several blood pressure retakes later, Dr. Chin returned.

“We did a few tests but will send out the bulk of the blood work. We did find something.” Dr. Chin tapped the chart in his hands and lifted an eyebrow.

A chill ran over her.

“Nothing bad. At least at this point,” he offered.

She wasn’t sure how to respond so she kept silent.

He sighed and finally finished his explanation. “I believe your high blood pressure is a temporary thing. Gestational hypertension isn’t completely uncommon.”

Her head went blank. “Gestational what?”

Dr. Chin met her gaze. “I need you to follow up with an obstetric doctor and not a cardiologist, Dakota. You’re pregnant.”

He kept talking, but she didn’t hear him.

“But I’m on the pill.”

“Which does have a fail rate. Plus you were taking Bactrim. There are plenty of Bactrim babies out there. The drug has been known to decrease the effectiveness of birth control. Says so right on the warning label.”

She dropped her head in her hands.

Holy hell.

Chapter Fourteen

“You’re running!” Mary stated the obvious.

“I need to get my head back on.”

Dakota continued to move around Mary and pack two oversized bags and a carry-on. She told Mary about confronting Walt. Told her about the nosebleed and the three hours she spent in the ER. But that was all.

“It’s still running. Who are you and what have you done with my friend?”

Dakota stopped packing long enough to catch her breath. Controlling her blood pressure until she could find the right doctor would be a combination of diet and stress relief. She’d already downloaded several books on high blood pressure in pregnancy. She’d deal with the blood pressure, and skim over the reason she was dealing with it for now.

She hadn’t wrapped her head around a
bun in the oven
.

Damn clichés were running in her head like an old movie reel.

“Your strong, self-sufficient friend needs to get away. Walt’s called twice since I left the ER.” Dakota didn’t even listen to his messages. She deleted them unheard.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“He just wants to play hero. Probably feels guilty for my stress level.” If he knew he’d impregnated her and
that
caused the blood pressure, his hero complex would soar. “I don’t want a pity date. I don’t want him.”

“Bullshit on that. If you didn’t want him or didn’t care, you’d stay right here and tell him to blow.”

Dakota blinked a few times, her lips a thin line. “I hate you sometimes.” She twisted away, continued to pack.

“Because I’m right.”

“Fine. Now be my friend and help me pack.”

Mary started with her shoes, lifting two pairs at a time and packing the ones Dakota agreed to. “Where are you going anyway?”

“You have to promise not to tell Walt if he comes asking.”

“I’ll tell Walt he’s a douche bag. He broke Dakota’s number one rule.”

Dakota laughed for the first time in what felt like a week.
“ 
‘Don’t be a douche bag.’ Followed closely by ‘don’t be a fucking douche bag.
’ 
”

“Sensible or sexy?” Mary lifted two sets of black heels, one with a four-inch lift, the others with two.

“Sensible. I won’t be hitting any clubs back home.”

Mary dropped the shoes in the case and popped her head up. “You’re going home?”

Dakota tucked the shoes in place, grabbed another pair. “My family’s annoying, catty, snarky, but . . .”

“They’re family. God, Dakota, you really love him.”

Dakota snapped the case together and started to zip it up. Hearing her best friend, who accompanied her to conventions because she loved the idea of love as much as Dakota preached it, shook her. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve known him for three months.”

“There isn’t a timeline for falling and you know it.”

“I don’t know what I am. I need to find out and I can’t do that here where I see him in my bed, in my kitchen. Damn, I see now why people sell their houses after a divorce. The shadows a breakup leaves behind are dark.”

The drive to LAX was full of instructions. “I set the timers on the lights to come off and on. I’ll call you to remind you to change the times every so often. Put your garbage in front of my place once in a while so people don’t realize I’m gone.”

“You make it sound like you’ll be gone for a long time.”

The traffic rolling by distracted her. There were plenty of cars on the freeways at home, but nothing like this.

“Dakota?”

“Yeah?”

“I asked when you thought you’d be back?”

They turned into the departing terminal ramp.

“I-I don’t know.” She offered a humorous laugh. “Seven and a half months.”

“You’re kidding.”

Mary snagged a spot against the curb and pulled in. They both moved behind the car and removed her luggage.

Dakota embraced her friend. “Thank you for keeping my secrets.”

Mary pulled away, narrowed her eyes. “Not telling Walt where you are will be a pleasure. The jerk.”

Dakota hugged her again and whispered in her ear, “I’m pregnant.”

Mary sucked in a breath, drew away.

Lifting a finger to her lips, Dakota said, “Shh!”

“Oh, hon.”

Car horns started to honk and airport security started walking their way. “Better go. Don’t want a ticket.”

Mary moved around the car. “I’m calling you tomorrow. We’re going to talk about this.”

Yeah, but Dakota could actually avoid that call from thousands of miles away.

Lost in her thoughts, Dakota stood at the curb until another car skidded into the spot.

She half expected to see Walt jumping from the town car. When a family of four emerged from the back with one toddler and another preteen, Dakota dragged her luggage behind her.

If Walt didn’t calm down,
his
blood pressure was going to go ape-shit crazy or he’d crash his car from a lack of paying attention.

She hadn’t answered her phone, didn’t return his calls.

He couldn’t blame her. He’d been an ass.

Although he wasn’t sure what to do about the rampant emotions inside him, he knew that distance and time away from Dakota only made him feel worse.

If she wanted to ignore him, she’d have to do it with him on her doorstep.

She’d shown up at his place of work, he justified. So he’d just show up at hers.

It was past six and the wind was blowing in off the ocean, making the air chill as he pushed out of his car and jogged up the path to her front door. He ran both hands through his hair and rang the bell.

He rang it a second time and looked over the peekaboo window into the house. No movement. He knocked and called her name.

Nothing.

There were windows lighting up the garage, he moved to them and looked inside. Her car sat dormant.

So she wants to ignore me.

A light went on in the window above the garage.

He smiled, returned to the door.

After a quick rap, he leaned close. “I know you’re home, Dakota. We need to talk.”

Nothing.

“I’m not going to leave.”

Still nothing.

“I fucked up.”

When all he heard was silence, he leaned his forehead against the door.

“You sure as hell did.”

He jumped and turned.

Mary.

“Can you talk to her?” he asked, motioning toward the door.

“Why should I talk when avoiding is so much more effective?” Mary tucked a long string of her wavy blonde hair behind her ear.

“What I need to say I need to say to Dakota.”

Mary crossed her arms over her chest and grinned.

Giving up on her, he pounded on the door again. “Dakota?”

Mary started to laugh. “Where is my cell phone when I need it?”

He knocked again.

“She’s not home, Walter.”

“I saw a light go on.”

Mary lowered her voice. “Automatic lighting.”

Walt gave Mary his full attention.

“I dropped her off at the airport at noon.”

He frowned and his heart dropped.
She’s gone?
“Conference?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Her publisher?”

“Might be.”

“Her agent?”

“Desi
is
demanding.”

“Damn it, Mary.”

Mary snarled. “Damn it, Walt.”

He stepped close to Dakota’s best friend. “High altitude and high blood pressure aren’t a great combination.”

The smirk on Mary’s face fell.

“Sparks nosebleeds.”

Mary throat contracted. “Why do you care? You dumped her.”

“I didn’t dump her.”

“Ignored her. Same thing.”

At that very moment, Walt hated that women were so open with each other.

“Tell me where she went.”

Mary offered a full-throat laugh. “Give me one good reason.”

He hesitated and lost his chance.

“Well, Walt, Chinese water torture won’t bring forth where Dakota flew off to. You might as well go home.” Mary turned to leave.

“She won’t answer my calls.”

“Smart woman. Talking to a douche bag is a waste of her time.”

He jogged in front of Mary, stopped her in the middle of the residential street. The reality that he might not be able to contact Dakota left him breathless. Scared. Wait! Mary was a psychologist, or some such thing . . .

“I was scared.”

She moved around him, kept walking. “Come back when you have more than that, Walt.”

“Tell her I was here,” he called out after her.

“And prolong her misery? I don’t think so. I love her too much for that.”

Mary walked through her front door and slammed it.

Dakota spent the entire flight coaxing her headache into submission, drinking milk—because somewhere in her head she thought that might help—and listening to piano drifts on her phone.

What she really thought would help was a whiskey . . . but she couldn’t bring herself to ignore her pregnancy that far.

Lucky for her, the first-class seat beside her was empty and she didn’t have to pretend happiness with pleasant conversation. She counted the silent miles that drifted between her and Walt and finally fell asleep somewhere over Texas.

The need to pee woke and annoyed her.

When she made her way back to her seat, she checked her phone. Luckily, the plane closed in on landing.

Even though she sat in first class, she didn’t jump to leave the plane.

When she did, the pilot was watching her from the door to the cockpit with a crooked smile.

“Visiting family,” she managed as an explanation before exiting the plane.

It was dark in Savannah, and she still had a drive to get home, which was closer to the coast. She obtained a rental car with an indefinite return date, loaded her luggage, and headed home.

Her parents didn’t know she was coming. On the off chance they weren’t home, she had her key. The same damn key she left on her ring when she went off to college.

The closer to home she got, the harder it was to hold back tears.

Familiar houses, and driveways, dotted the landscape. Beyond the houses, she could hear the sea. She loved the ocean. The waves.

The humidity of summer was passing and the night was chilling enough to know that fall was in the air. She had memories of holidays past and missed her people.

Since when did she become homesick? Damn hormones were getting the best of her.

The gateway was as it had always been. Same rock, same lights . . . same plants. Though the plants had grown and were barely tamed.

She moved into the circular drive and killed the engine.

Lights were on in the back of the house and the occasional flip of the television set flickered.

She stepped out of the car, stood between the open door and the seat, and looked around. The willows were starting to drop their summer growth and the air around her made her shiver. It wasn’t exactly cold, but it wasn’t California in late September. The air was scented with magnolia, fading jasmine, and salt air.

Home.

The light on the porch lit and the front door opened.

She caught her breath. Held it.

“Dakota?” Her mother’s voice was soft, and full of Southern song.