Sliding (The Stone Series) (13 page)

I think we need to table the drinking discussion for a bit so I can see
for myself if he’s telling me the truth or not so I go onto my next point

“Tate, we also need to discuss children. I know how much it hurts, it
kills me every day, Tate you have no idea the demons I live with but it can’t
stop us from having children” I whisper almost so quietly that I can’t be heard
because just referring to my accidental pregnancy brings back such horrific
memories I can hardly bare them.

“It was my fault entirely, the drinking then the fighting with you, I
caused the miscarriage one way or another Brook and I hate myself for that as
much as you hate me for it. I was just so fucking pissed off about you getting
pregnant; I thought you did it on purpose to get your way. I know now that you
didn’t. I think I always knew but a year ago I just couldn’t see that. I was
still in a fog over losing my dad. And then I was just so fucking out of my
mind when you almost died, I couldn’t face the possibility of losing you. That’s
why I had to leave, I had to get us some breathing air or we were not going to
survive. But now I know I was being selfish and immature. I didn’t want to
share you with anyone, I’ve never wanted to share you with anyone, you know
that Brook. I admit to the control issues. But I am so scared right now, what
if it happens again? What if I do lose you this time? I don’t know if I can
risk that Brook, I just don’t know.”

A tear slips down my face as I let myself remember…I was a few days late
getting my period but I wasn’t worried. I was working on a new workshop in the
City and not eating much. I had lost some weight and being late was nothing new
for me under those circumstances. On the way home one night after the workshop
I popped into the Duane Reade on the corner near my studio space and I bought a
pregnancy test just for the hell of it. Just as I was stepping out of the store
Dominick pulled up to the curb with Tate in the backseat. Tate rolled down the
window and whistled at me, “Hey baby, you need a ride? I’m told I’m a hell of a
good one! Care to climb in and find out?” I laugh, shove the bag into my purse
and get in the car as Tate steps out and opens the door for me.

The next morning when Tate goes to work I pee on the little stick from
the box and learn that I am pregnant. Tate has been very clear from quite early
on about his feelings of having children. I have never agreed and secretly I
have always thought he’d change his mind but now that I am pregnant I’m not so
sure. I call my doctor and get an appointment for later that day. I cancel my
workout with my personal trainer knowing he is going to work me so much harder
tomorrow that I almost tell him why I am cancelling our session hoping he’ll
take pity on me.

At the doctor’s I learn that I am eight weeks along and I am scheduled
for an ultrasound and a full physical in a week. When Tate gets home that night
I am waiting with a fire and a candlelight dinner on the table. “Always” is
playing on the iPod. Tate stumbles into the room and I know he’s drunk again
and I know I won’t be telling him about the baby tonight. I never get the
perfect opportunity to tell him because every time I see him he is drunk, I end
up with no choice a week later, the night before my appointment.

I am so nervous; I don’t know how to begin or what to say so I just blurt
it out as he falls into the house drunk again. His drinking is increasing and
this is going to have to be another difficult conversation. At first he just
kind of looks at me, trying to process what I’ve just said. Once it finally
hits him he starts to laugh, at this point he thinks I’m fooling around. Within
seconds he realizes that I am serious and he goes crazy. He starts yelling at
me, telling me I did it on purpose. He accuses me of the baby not being his. He
tells me I am going to have an abortion and then he says he’s leaving and he
walks right back out the door he just fell through not five minutes ago.

I spend the better part of the night worrying about him, about us. I cry
myself to sleep sometime around midnight only to be awoken three hours later
with the worst cramps I have ever felt and feeling like I have wet the bed.
When I check I am covered in blood. The bed looks like a crime scene and I am
doubled over in pain. I know I need help and fast and that I should call for
Dominick who should be downstairs but instead he’s most likely babysitting my
husband. I call Asia on her cell not wanting to wake up Ted and she calls 911
and meets me at the hospital. When I see Asia we can barely look at each other,
each remembering her past but unable to speak of it. I don’t bother to call
Tate even though I know I should and I tell Asia not to either, she is more
than happy to oblige.

Tate arrives home within a half hour of my leaving to find our bed the
way I left it. He vomits on the bedroom floor and yells for Dominick. When
Dominick enters the room and sees the scene laid out in front of him he sits
Tate down in a chair and calls 911, identifies himself and learns what happened
and where I am. Dominick pulls Tate to his feet and drags him crying out of the
room. Tate is still too drunk to process what Dominick is telling him and he’s
convinced I’ve been hurt. By the time he arrives at the hospital an hour after
me he’s sobered up enough to be coherent. The doctors explain that I had a
miscarriage and lost a large amount of blood. My blood pressure crashed and my
heart was concerning them at one point but that I am stable now.

“You are a lucky man, Mr. Taylor. We could have lost her tonight if she
didn’t get here when she did” the doctor informs Tate and scares the shit out
of him.

Asia and Tate can barely look at each other when he walks into my room. They
do not speak and as soon as he comes in Asia kisses me and walks out still
never making full eye contact with me or Tate. I am sobbing uncontrollably and
I can’t stop. I am so tired I can barely keep my eyes open but when I close
them I see the baby I will never hold, never kiss, never be a mommy to and
staying awake is so much easier than that. Tate climbs into bed and takes me
into his arms; he strokes my hair and cries with me and I allow him that even
though he doesn’t deserve to be allowed to morn this child he so clearly didn’t
want. He tells me he is so sorry and my body can’t resist any longer, the next
thing I know I am asleep in my husband’s arms.

************

I snap back to the here and now and Tate knows where I’ve been in my
mind.

“Okay, listen we need to talk to a counselor together about all of this
and a doctor about the medical implications. When it happened they said I was
not at an increased risk of it happening again but let’s find a specialist and
make an appointment before we decide anything” I rationally suggest and Tate
agrees as he calls the waiter over and informs me that’s enough talking for today.
  

I left Connecticut to get my shit
together. I knew I had to clean up. I knew leaving Brooklynn was risky. I came
to California and started seeing a shrink to iron out my issues. I have my
drinking and drug use under control and my life is getting back on track but I
know that we need to work through some stuff together and when I see her lost
in her thoughts I know she’s remembering the night of the miscarriage too. I
don’t want her to have to live through that night again so I interrupt her
thoughts. I call the waiter over and inform her that’s enough talking for today
but I do agree to go to counseling with her.
 

After all is said and done we manage to have a pleasant enough breakfast
and when we arrive back at the hotel Tate asks me if I want to take a ride.

“We were just out” I say.

“Not in my car, in yours” Tate says with his famous thousand watt smile
as he points to the parking spot next to his where there is a black Volvo C70.

“Of course this will only be until there’s a…a possible need for a
minivan” and he leans over kisses me and hands me the keys to my new car.

Tate opens the driver’s door for me and I sit in the driver’s seat as
Tate walks around the sleek convertible and climbs into the passenger seat.
When I start up the car I hear the purr of the engine and then Connecticut’s
own John Mayer comes on the radio singing “California Queen”. I take Tate for a
cruise not knowing where we are headed…not in my new car and not in our lives.

When the song changes to “The Lady in Red” Tate just looks at me and
smirks about our private joke to that song. The summer that I went away for the
first time to work at the cheer camp this song was very popular and Tate used
to sing it to me because the uniform I had was red. He used to make me describe
it to him on nights that we were able to talk on the phone while he masturbated
to my voice describing myself in my uniform.
 

************

Tate was grounded for the rest of the school year. He couldn’t talk on
the phone and he couldn’t go anywhere. I was afraid to tell him about my job at
cheer camp because he was already upset about only getting to see and talk to
me at school and I knew he was looking forward to having his punishment lifted
and hanging out again, talking on the phone and resuming what had been going on
between us physically. I was also afraid to tell him because what I hadn’t
realized when I agreed to do the camp was that I was going to have a stunt
partner who I would travel with, practice with and teach at the camps with, pretty
much be with day and night…and it was a boy! I knew Tate was going to flip out
when he found out so I was waiting until the last possible moment to break the
news.

It was the last week of school and I knew I had to tell him. I asked
Wendy if I could have her car keys during the school day so Tate and I could
sneak out of classes and meet at her car. I promised her we wouldn’t drive it,
I just wanted a private place to break my news. I told Tate that I had Wendy’s
keys when I saw him at lunch that day and I asked him to meet me at her car
after sixth period. We would skip seventh period which I knew for Tate was
study hall and the last period of the day. His teacher never took attendance so
Tate would never get caught. I talked Wendy into calling the school and
pretending she was my mom, letting them know that I would be leaving after
sixth period today for a doctor’s appointment.

Tate and I meet at Wendy’s car and when Tate climbs in he pops a tape
into her radio. “I Want Your Sex” comes on…big surprise! Tate and I laugh for a
while over his choice of song but within minutes we are all over each other. I
don’t know why we hadn’t thought of this car idea before. Tate takes my face in
his hands and he pulls my lips to his. He kisses me intensely, pushing his lips
against mine harder than he usually does. His tongue enters my mouth within
seconds and I let out an uncontrollable moan.

Tate breathes, “God, I’ve missed you” then resumes our kiss. He sucks on
my bottom lip instantly making it swell to twice its size before he nips it
with his teeth. I run my tongue over his top lip and he lets his head fall back
against the back of the seat. Tate pushes me down onto the back seat and before
I know it he’s on top of me supporting his weight on his arms that are on
either side of my body. The only parts of our bodies that are touching are
stiff and wet and not supposed to be touching. Luckily we are dressed but I can
still feel Tate’s growing bulge in his pants as he grinds it into me.

“I can’t wait till next week when I can see you again. We’re going to have
to be creative and careful; our parents are going to be watching us like hawks”
Tate says as he continues to dry hump me.

“Uh, Tate we need to talk about something, that’s kind of why I asked you
to meet me here.”

“What, are you fucking kidding me? You’re not breaking up with me are
you?”

I tell him he’s being an idiot and I would never break up with him and
then I drop the bomb, “I’m working at a cheer camp for six weeks. I’ll have one
week after school gets out but then I’ll be gone all of July and the first two
weeks in August. It’s a great opportunity for me, lots of college scouts will
be there and they’re paying me to do it so I’ll have money for stuff.”

“What the fuck, Brooklynn? When were you going to tell me about this? How
long have you been hiding this from me? I’m finally going to be out of that
fucking jail my parents call home and you’re taking off for six fucking weeks?”

I explain about the people who were at the competition where Tate’s
problems all began, and how when my mom called them they told her that I had
great potential and that the top colleges send their cheer coaches to scout at
these camps and I could get a scholarship to even University of Kentucky. They
have the best cheer team ever and I would kill to cheer there. Tate seems to be
getting less mad, I think he’s trying to be supportive after the whole
competition debacle.

That is until I say my next words, “There’s one problem, something you
are not going to like but there’s nothing I can do about it so you’re going to
have to find a way to be okay with it. Everyone is paired up with a partner for
stunts and that is the person you travel with from camp to camp and do the
demonstrations with.”

Before I can tell him it’s a boy Tate starts laughing.