Catching Preeya (Paradise South Book 3) (38 page)

“Wow, that’s unbelievable.” Preeya stroked her belly. “This woman…she hardly…hardly knew me. To…do this?”

The only thing that caught me up? A little bit selfish…(see, almost nothing can be done with pure and total selflessness LOL.) I just had to punch Josh in the virtual face for being such a goddamn prick to me, to you, to countless women, people, animals…for as long as I’ve known him. So…I added a little “bonus material” to the auction
post.

Oh no she did not. Did she?

Our little
water-pouring
video snippet. It felt so good, Preeya. Embarrassing the shit out of him, even though it potentially risked the value of the letter, making the “great Josh Bolte” less desirable…but the fans jumped on it anyway. And, yes, the whole incident got me canned. Worth it, though. Totally worth
it.

So that’s the story. I’m hoping to hell you’re holding the check instead of it being in the hands of some new prick in your life who’s not worth the crud underneath your
fingernails.

No…no new prick.

No prick at
all.

Her mind spun. She has, or
had
, an unbelievably amazing man, one whom she’d pushed away. Alienated. Selfishly goddamn alienated and hurt and had only
considered
when the decisions were simple. She hadn’t let him in—not really. Not with any of the vital choices or parts.

God, how different was she than
Josh-fucking
-Bolte? Center of the Universe, Josh Bolte.

Because here she was, center of
her
universe, alone, Preeya Patel.

Maybe never to be Preeya Trainer.
And it goddamn served her right.

And while she’d played for control, Ben had been busy assuring her health and
well-being
. He’d been so focused on her fears, on protecting her, that he locked away his own hidden pains. Beyond losing his wife to cancer, Ben had lost his first baby! How could she not know that? He held it back for her welfare.

Jesus, she’d been a horrible partner, person, friend. How lonesome Ben must’ve felt.

She hadn’t been there for him.

Like her mother hadn’t been there for Preeya’s father.

Then her thoughts shifted to the soothing balance struck by Sylvia and her dad. And, in contrast, how muddy and murky and downright blurred she and Ben seemed, had become. Or had always been?

Because of Preeya’s officially apparent
one-sidedness
. Opposite of Sylvia…and just like her mother. But she’d end it here. She’d change the tides. She wanted to share her life—truly share it—
with
Ben.

She wiped a rogue tear from her cheek while she stared at the letter in her hands.

God, what a prick
—
Josh Bolte.
How many times might she have gotten pregnant by mistake with Josh’s kid, as that stupid teenager she’d been—that teenager who Josh Bolte had convinced he’d loved, and set to be with forever. So convincing that, goddamn it, they “didn’t need protection.” She gagged.
“Let’s make true, raw love—no barriers, no shield.”
And gagged again. No fucking condom? And she’d caved. Thank God the universe didn’t teach her a lesson by planting
that
seed—a
sure
path to hell on earth. Goddamn
coke-snorting
Josh Bolte as the father of her kid.
Full-blown
nausea now. The idea of having a baby, a life with that man,
Jesus
.

She winced then slammed her eyes shut, forcing an upsurge of bile from her stomach back down her esophagus. A flash of Josh’s empty eyes in that guest room that regrettable morning met her mind—thank God again that he couldn’t get it up or keep it up because who knows if she’d cave again, that the baby in her womb now really could have been that asshole’s. She flushed the memory away as fast as it had come.

Replaced by a soothing realization that the child growing inside her was Ben’s. God, what she’d taken for granted. All he’d wanted was for her to share her life with him. The decisions about their family. Ben just wanted the best for her. The best for the baby, and the best for
them
. Ben Trainer set the bar—not a selfish bone in the man’s entire body.

She felt numb, frozen in time.

Read the rest and be done
—so she could…
do
something. Change something. Fast.

Her finger traced down the muddled page of scratch to find her place.

In closing, Preeya Patel, some things have changed…while some have not. Undoubtedly, Josh is still a cocksucker. A selfish prick. And that may never change. But here’s to people like you and, now me, acting otherwise. The way you spoke of your mother, the woman who’d left you and your sister to help the children of the godforsaken world. That struck me, man. It truly did. For a child to take such a hit, and not to be bitter and sour and ugly, but instead to show love and compassion to your helpless little sister. I hope to find more selfless people like
you…

Other words based on illusion followed. Then,
Truly yours. Dawn.

And a cell number.

How insane.

And motivating.

She stood up. Things were clearer than ever. She spun around, nowhere to go, but, God, she had to do or go or say something to change the course of things. Like Dawn’s compulsion into Sandpoint Way, she needed to fix what she’d broke, and she had to do it now.

CHAPTER 56

A
n avalanche of
truth buried her.

Time to dig out.

Call Gigi.
Tell her that what Gigi’d done—going against Ben’s wishes—it wasn’t okay. And that she’s sorry, but Gigi couldn’t be her child’s godmother. And she understood if she didn’t want Preeya to be Gigi’s baby’s either. Though it hurt her heart.

And it would rock Gigi’s.

Bad timing. Okay, maybe she’d wait. To upset her best friend in the same state, farther along, in fact. She would not do to Gigi what Gigi had done to her. She loved Gigi like a sister, always.

But she was ready to prove to Ben where her loyalties lied.

With
him.

And she needed help to do that. To prove to Ben that
he
was it.

She picked up her cell.

And dialed Sylvia—more of a mother to her in six months than anyone else had ever been.

“Sweetie, we’ve been trying to reach you for days, and to be honest, if we didn’t hear back by the end of today, we were booking a flight up to you.”

“I’m sorry to have worried you.”

“I’m just glad to hear your voice, that you’re okay…but, Preeya, are you? Okay? Because Ben called your father. Told him to hold off on…well, he was planning—”

“Planning what?”

“The day you and I had coffee Ben had apparently brought your father in on a secret. Ben arranged with his sister to surprise you. In Vallarta. A beach wedding, a tiny ceremony, right after you guys became…‘courthouse legal’. But the other day he called to ask your father to hold off on buying the tickets. He wouldn’t say why…just that we should call you, make sure you’re okay because he had to take a
long-distance
long job in Texas? Why didn’t you guys ask us if money is an issue, Preeya?”

“It’s not, Sylvia. Money’s not an issue.” She snorted, holding the
eleven-thousand
-dollar check in her hand. “No, it’s not money, and it’s not Ben. It’s me, all me. I screwed up royally and now I need to make it right. I need help, though. I need your help to fix this…please.” No panic, just stoic surrender.

“Of course, sweetheart.” Sylvia paused. “Indra, I’ve got Preeya on the phone. Come!” Back on the call. “Can I put you on speakerphone, sweetie? Your dad is here. We’re both here.”

*

She couldn’t believe he’d planned a surprise wedding for her. And one so vastly different than his first wedding, like he’d read her mind, her soul. Jesus, it made her heart hurt worse than it already did.

But it was more confirmation that she’d found the
one
. And
lost
the one. Again.

She’d correct what she’d nearly destroyed. Sylvia and her father were on it. She’d left Stacy a voice mail and waited on that return call, also.

Now for Gigi. A delicate version of the truth, but it had to be done.

Preeya sat down on the sofa and threw her swollen feet up while she found and tapped Gigi’s image on her phone screen.

She waited for Gigi to answer while a jumble of words bubbled in Preeya’s mind. Her eyes shut tight as she tried to prioritize what to say first. Gigi didn’t know that Ben had even left. And how would Gigi take it, being the root of the most major issues?

But bottom line, Pree…Gigi had only burst the bubble, while you had blown it up in the first
place.

She sighed
. Truth
hurts.

“Pree, it’s like we haven’t spoken in ages! One second, though…over there, Dad, in the left drawer under the plates. Sorry, Pree. Lord help us, my dad is cooking dinner tonight.”

“That’s rarer than an earthquake,” Preeya chortled, then felt a sudden worry prickle her arms.

“Yeah, I, uh, had a bit of a…thing today, Pree—”

“What? Geej, what is it—you okay? Why didn’t you call me?”

“I didn’t want to scare you, especially when I was too out of it to really put it in perspective…” Clanking pots in the background. “Sorry, one second, Preeya.”

Teeth gnashed, Preeya huffed her irritation and dread. She didn’t want to even imagine the matter. And she needed to shove down her impulsive fury at Gigi for not calling her. Hell, she would have done—has done—the same thing…keeping her own scenario
close-lipped
.

“I’m back. Dad’s about to burn the place down, but lucky he’s got an in with the fire chief.” Gigi laughed.

Preeya didn’t. “Tell me, Geej. What’s going on?”

Gigi exhaled into the phone. “I had my weekly exam this morning, and, well, it’s nothing horrible”—Preeya had already stopped breathing—“but the doctor says I have placenta previa, which is—”

“I
know
what it is, Geej.” Enter oxygen.
Placenta previa—okay…it’s
manageable
.

“Right, of course, med school.”

Yeah, med school, which, as Ben had pointed out during their blowout fight, should have corrected her own
screwed-up
stance on her own pregnancy. Finding her mother? After all this time?
Really, Preeya?
The realization of her
over-the
-top stupidity now played like a broken record in her head. Previa is only one of a thousand complications that a woman could face. And Ben’s Jamie had miscarried….

“You there, Pree?”

“Yeah. I’m here, Geej.”
My mind’s just unhinging, is all.
“Partial or complete previa? What did the doctor say?”

She heard Gigi sigh. “Complete. The cervix is completely covered, and at this stage, six and half months, my OB says I’m hereby on pelvic rest. No intercourse—
check
—no more vaginal exams—
yay!
—and no other activities that may promote bleeding. Basically, I need to take it really easy.”

Preeya swallowed back her lack of words.
Complete previa
. She cleared her throat of the new knot of worry. “Not just easy, Geej…
complete
bed rest. Err on the side of caution here. I mean it.” And Preeya would do the same. Her own saga would remain completely off the table. Gigi shouldn’t, couldn’t handle any of it right now.

“Which is why my dad is here. I know you can’t juggle any more than you already are, even
with
Ben, so Dad took time off.”

With Ben…right.

“Oh, Geej, I’m so sorry—”

“Hey, quit it. I’m fine. Dad’s here. The baby’s healthy, which,” she said, exhaling deep relief, “is the most…important…” Sudden sobs broke through her best friend’s shield of calm.

“You’re right, Geej. The baby’s healthy. That’s what matters. It’ll all be fine.”

“No, Pree,” Gigi nearly shouted, “that’s not all that matters.” Her longtime friend gasped for air. “Your baby. Your baby’s health, my God…and
your
health, it’s equally important, Pree, and today with my feet in the stirrups and the doctor’s face paler than it should ever be, I could only think of how goddamn selfish and downright…horrid I’ve been.”

Helping her find her mom was less than prudent, but Preeya wouldn’t go as far as to say Gigi’d been
horrid
. “Geej, I think you’re overreacting just a—”

“Pree,” Gigi growled, “let me talk. Tell me, did you see my text…from this morning? Because you usually answer right away and you didn’t so I’m praying you didn’t. Either way, I just need you to erase the damn thing. Don’t look at it—delete the entire string of…”

But Preeya had already put Gigi on speakerphone
two-rambling
sentences ago to see the text. From Gigi. With an address and a name.

Jenny
Freedman.

Gigi’s frantic talk buzzed like flies around Preeya’s head while she read the text again and again
: 522 Dawson Street, Tucson, Arizona. Jenny. Jenny
Freedman.

She felt a dull kick then a
follow-up
rumble on her left side. From the baby.
Jenny’s your grandmother’s name, little one.
Your
blood-only
grandmother.

Alive. In Tucson. With a new name. Not her maiden name.

Gigi’s voice still hovered like radio static—overshadowed by inner sounds, deafening noise, namely Preeya’s pulse. It squeezed up the side of her throat and sent reverberating throbs of heat the rest of the way, to her forehead and eyes and ears. Wonder and questions pulsed through her thoughts with each wax and wane of the
slow-motion
pounding. “Gigi, are…are you sure it’s her? Are. You. Sure.”

“Preeya, listen to me now. Ben…he told me not to bring her up, not to mention my idea now or ever. He was concerned for you, for the baby. I ignored him, the fucking idiot I am. I ignored him and it…it hit me, with today’s news. This condition, the previa, it’s a warning. You have to put this whole thing out of your mind, Pree. You just…just have to delete the text; delete the thought. Facing her, erasing the negativity, won’t matter a damn if…if there is no baby. My godbaby, Pree. Please…do you hear me? Just leave the whole thing alone.”

Curiosity to numbness transitioning to irritation rooted in her diaphragm like she’d been sucker punched. Then it all snowballed into hot fury and erupted into her chest.

“I will do what I need to, Geej.”
No remorse. No guilt.
“And, sorry, but Ben and I have decided to choose Stacy as our baby’s guardian, the godparent—”

Beeep-beep
.
Her
call-waiting
. Preeya didn’t hear Gigi’s reaction over Stacy’s incoming call.

“Listen, Gigi, I gotta take this call. Rest, and I love you. I’ll be in touch…next week. And I do…I do love you so much.”

She answered Stacy’s call with her chest heaving, hands shaking, head still throbbing along with her feet and ankles.

Ben. God, Ben. I wish to God you were
here.

“Stacy.” Preeya held back a river of tears.

“Preeya, honey…what? What is it? Are you and the baby okay?”