Catching Preeya (Paradise South Book 3) (31 page)

CHAPTER 50

P
reeya
needed
punctuality
all the time now—she’d become
near-OCD
about it. “We’ll talk later, babe. Promise.” She kissed Ben’s mouth slow and sweet, then rolled—like the hippo she felt like—off the bed. They’d had it out again about last week’s mall incident—but their version of
having it out
…well, it wasn’t like their climactic sex life, by any means. Delicate niceties and
half-compromises
softened by noncommittal touches and superficial caresses. And
laters
. Lots of
laters
.

Result—nothing ever got settled. Not the name, not the baby’s faith.
Nothing
.

But she had to go. And so did he. His last week of lectures before finals. Her morning for “yoga for pregos” at Green Lake.

She got to Gigi’s in plenty of time to find parking near the yoga spot, that was, if
Geej
had been on time. Preeya tapped her fingers on the steering wheel then texted Gigi a second time. A few beats passed.
Now we’re late.
It was like she and Gigi had switched places—Preeya obsessively ahead and Gigi always behind.

But Preeya couldn’t blame her. Not after Rod cut out last week. Cut out for good.
Raging
prick.

Preeya’s best friend waddled out to the car. “Sorry, sorry…just had two
last-minute
bladder calls.”

“It’s cool. You ready?”

“Yeah…sure.” Gigi buckled up. “Oh, hey, did you get the marriage license yesterday?” Gigi’s eyes were wide with attempted excitement.

“Yes, ma’am, we did.” Preeya couldn’t even try to hide her enthusiasm, even though she’d been drastically curbing her ups due to Gigi’s recent downs. “We can be married within sixty days from the day after tomorrow.”

“So great, Pree.” Gigi grinned, then turned toward the window.

At the steering wheel ready to go, Preeya took one hand and placed it on Gigi’s arm. “Hey, you okay?” Between the hormones, lower back, and, well, the
all-over
body pain of being
five-plus
months along—for the both of them—she had to admit that
okay
was relative. Then, add each of their other life hurdles…

“Yeah, Pree, I’m good. Always good.” Gigi winked and patted Preeya’s hand, reaching for the radio controls.

Preeya smiled at her friend and pulled out of the spot.

How amazing, them being pregnant together, there for each other during the landmark of landmarks of their lives. She flipped on her turn signal and eyed the stunning yet tasteful engagement ring she and Ben had picked out together.
Together. Together
felt so nice. She smiled, then buried it—a pang of heartbreak hit her chest for her
essential-sister
hunting for distraction on the radio.

“Hey,” Gigi said through her gum smacking, happier since finding their favorite Prince song. “I’ve been anxious about something.”

“Huh, what’s that?”

“Well, I picked the thing…for you, for the baby shower, but it will most definitely give away the sex and—”

“God, Geej. How many times…we still don’t want to know, and that’s that.” Preeya lifted her brows to punctuate her
semi-lighthearted
warning.

Gigi
hmphed
.

“Gigi! I’m not kidding! Do not. Tell me.”

“Okay, okay. If it’s that important to you.” Gigi grinned from ear to ear.

“It’s important to me
and
Ben.”

Preeya caught Gigi’s grumble. Ben and Gigi only pretended to get along. But so be it. They were both her life’s breath, so they had little choice. And she had a feeling that once the babies arrived, her soul sister and soul mate would bond. No doubt.

“Which do you want, though? A boy or girl?”

“As long as the baby’s healthy…” Preeya stated. “But even if he or she isn’t…”
Dare she say it out loud?
Unlike her own mother—her vacating coward of a mother—she’d love her baby no matter what. Preeya took a deep breath, remembering her doctor’s—and Ben’s—concerns. Blood pressure, nerves. So the easiest fix: shove it down for another time. Maybe after the baby comes.

“Hey, Pree, your baby,
my
godbaby”—she waggled her eyebrows—“is beautiful and healthy and already so loved, my dear sister. That’s what your baby is. Completely and totally loved.”

Preeya smiled and her heart swam. Then her eyes glanced in Gigi’s direction. “I’m no psychic, Gigi Donlow, but I know your baby is wonderful and perfectly loved, too.
My
little godchild…he or she is infinitely loved.”

Gigi squeezed then kissed Preeya’s hand. “Enough sappy stuff.” Gigi cleared her throat. “Hey, let’s get something to eat. I’m craving a bucket of fried chicken.”

“You know we’re not supposed to eat before class, Geej. And we’re late.”

“Can’t we just skip yoga this week?” Gigi’s eyes got
puppy-dog
wide.

“Wow, Geej, really? Forget about the heartburn I get just thinking about fried chicken…
and
that it’s not great for the babies—but missing class? What about the new breathing exercise?”

“You’re right, you’re right.” Gigi shook her head and glanced at her lap. “I’m so bad. And I’m the one who needs the breathing exercises most.” Tears began to well in Gigi’s eyes. “Because I’m the one who’s alone!”
All-out
crying now. “And…I can’t even keep a man!” Bawling now.

“Oh, sweetie!” She reached over to give Gigi’s shoulder a squeeze while keeping her eyes on the road. The sobbing became heaving hyperventilation, so Preeya pulled over—the easiest
turn-in
was a doughnut shop.

Gigi gasped for air between tears. “You’re gonna be such a good mom, Pree.” Gigi shifted in the seat to face her. “I mean it. I knew you’d be fabulous at
the thing
awaiting you, and here you are.”

Preeya’s heart squeezed out a beat. Ben had drilled into her the same message, telling her over and over how wonderful a mother she’d be. But she doubted—God, she held such strong doubt and worry and panic—that she would be. She swallowed back her own tears. “You really think so, Geej? Because”—she looked down at her belly and couldn’t stop the building tears
…so much for being strong for Gigi—
“how the hell do I know…what a good mom is? And the odds…they’re against me. I’ve got my mother in me, always have. Skipping out on one thing then the next when shit got hard, just like
her
!”

Gigi unbuckled her seat belt, pulled Preeya to her shoulder, and held her tight. For minutes. Warm, firm, and steadying minutes.

“Hey.” Gigi released her grasp.

“Hey back.” Preeya sniffled, wiping clean her face—and Gigi’s shoulder—of all her leaking…emotion.

Gigi squeezed Preeya’s arm. “Oh, please…
snot-on
, my friend.
Snot-on
. What else am I here for?”

Preeya cracked up, squeezing Gigi’s hand. “Got a tissue or ten?”

Gigi reached into her purse and pulled out a stack of napkins from a
fast-food
joint and handed a few to Preeya. Preeya laughed harder still and threw Gigi a sideways glance. “Burger Bobo’s? Really?”

Gigi shrugged through her own giggle fit. “I’m not strong like you.”

“Bullshit.” Preeya slapped Gigi’s thigh. “Let’s get out of this parking lot before we both cave to the doughnut
drive-thru
.”

Gigi grinned with a wink, then got suddenly serious. “Wait. Stop the car for a sec.”

“What, Geej?”

Gigi squeezed her hand.

God, too tight!
“Ouch, Geej!”

Gigi nodded, narrowed her gaze, and squeezed Preeya’s hand again. “About the type of mother you’ll be”—Gigi swallowed and slammed her eyes tight, then whipped them open again—“You are
The Giving Tree
?” Gigi asked, tilting her head, slightly out of breath. “Does that make sense to you?”

Preeya choked on her tears and worked to find air. “Prana?” Gigi hadn’t known about the one book she and her sister had read a billion times over.

“Yes.
Prana.
”

*

Ben had been reading all morning up to Gigi’s phone call. Another
start-to
-
never
-finished
fatherhood book. The irony. He had to combat his own sliver—
planet-size
sliver
—of parental insecurity spiking in his gut every time he thought about Preeya’s secret worries. Her deeply buried fears were only privy to him late at night when she slept hard and deep beside him. His concerns for his own lack of fatherly instinct plagued him still, but he couldn’t talk to Preeya about it. Or maybe he could? Maybe that would comfort her? After this phone call with Gigi, maybe it would be the connection they both needed.

He sat on the couch in surrender as he stared at his phone, the minutes from his call with Gigi flashing
42
on his screen. It had been the longest conversation he’d had with Preeya’s best friend yet. Gigi relayed the entire episode to him. “Watch her, Ben,” Gigi’d told him. “I’ve never seen her so raw.”

Up to that phone call, Ben had pegged Gigi as quite the nut. But the woman had Preeya’s back—her mind, her body, her soul—without a doubt. For that, Ben could not be more grateful. He quickly buried the slight pang of something like jealousy for the fact that his fiancée opened up to Gigi about her
deep-seated
insecurities, and not him. He sighed and raked his hands through his hair. The important thing was that she’d vented it out loud—finally facing her fears in reality.

A huge step in the right direction, the direction toward ripping out the one lingering thorn.

Her
mother.

Ben would hunt the woman down himself and hang her if…

Chill out, man.

But it burned him. The haunting ghost of a woman, Ben knew, had been hovering in Preeya’s psyche, torturing her soul. Preeya’d started talking in her sleep—and by
talking
, he meant screaming, yelling, wailing—for the past few months. As the pregnancy wore on, she’d expressed her fears and her anxieties about her mother—and worse, about becoming the selfish woman who’d left Preeya without a word. Just a helpless little girl.

Ben had never thought to confide in Gigi about the nightmares, but he did tell her about them on their call. And that his heart screamed out for Preeya. He had, of course, not spoken a word of it to Preeya, herself.

“Why?” Gigi had asked.

He’d had no answer, but he’d said it was his gut instinct. Gigi’d get that, he thought. “And anyway,” he explained, “Preeya’s fears had obviously not been ready to surface in waking life yet. Suppressing a trauma, such
heart-wrenching
emotion, it’s common and medically necessary, in fact. Especially having idolized her mother for her entire life—all based on a lie.” Her father’s
bald-faced
lie.

All in all, everything had been taking its natural course toward the positive. Preeya had come so far with her monophobia, almost excited to be on her own these days—well, not really alone. God, he loved catching her singing to the baby, rubbing her belly with loving intimacy. Chills shot up his neck.
What an unbelievable mother she’ll
be.

She had also been opening up about Prana’s passing, sharing her grief, her deep ache over her sister’s departure. A few weeks ago she’d told him a story about Prana when she was an infant. Preeya took her sister from the basinet and wouldn’t let her go.
Really
would not release the child. Preeya laughed as she shared the memory while Ben ignored the thickness in her voice. “Even Aunt Champa and her evil claws couldn’t tear Prana from my grasp,” Preeya had said. He knew
full-well
what had preceded the landmark memory.
Her mother’s departure, still untold.
That’s when he’d jumped on the opportunity, subtly suggesting that she maybe see a therapist—“For the mourning process,” he’d said.

But Preeya had
flat-out
refused, saying she was fine. “Better than fine,” she’d declared. “I love you, I love our baby. I even love being pregnant! Nausea, achiness, and all!”

“My case in point, babe”—he laughed—“that therapy’s a good idea. I’ve
never
heard a woman crazy about being pregnant!” He got a good punch in the arm for the comment, but, no, he didn’t force the
therapy-issue
. Because even with Preeya’s hormones and emotions on hyperdrive, school, the recent traumas coming to light, she really was doing well. Why was he surprised, though? Preeya proved time and time again to be as solid as a rock.

But the baby.
Their tiny miracle. He’d lost a child once and it had been an unyielding
vise-grip
on his heart. And the amount of stress Preeya shouldered, consciously or not—it was a lot for someone who
wasn’t
pregnant to take on. He had every right to worry. God, even
free-spirited
Gigi worried, hence the call.

But she’s fine, Ben.
The OB had seen them last week and all was great, on point. And the baby’s first kick had been the day before yesterday. Oh man, Preeya’s expression—indescribable joy. Their unborn child’s sharp kick to Preeya’s right side sent her to the next level of ecstasy.

And speaking of ecstasy, even their lovemaking had been pure bliss, a different level of passion. If Preeya’s sex drive indicated anything about her mood and state of mind, wow, Ben truly had nothing to be concerned over. Inside the bedroom and out—in the kitchen, Jacuzzi tub, back porch, living room lounger, and on the safe, flat portion of the roof accessible from the guest room—she had been throwing herself at him with all the raging desire of a tigress in heat. But, oh God, so much deeper. Indescribable. He got hot just thinking about it.

When they weren’t connecting as if they were reuniting after being apart forever, she was focusing on school and the baby’s
well-being
. Reading every book, blog, and parenting article she said she’d never imagined herself reading. Then weekly yoga, a
pre-mommy
group, and, hell, he couldn’t forget the fact that she’d chosen a pediatric specialty. Yeah, Preeya had every
baby-base
covered.