Authors: Anna Cruise
THIRTY
WEST
“That could have gone better.”
Abby was snuggled against me. We were standing against the sea wall at the end of Chalcedony, gazing out at the water. The sun was a foot above the horizon, beginning its descent, the last of its rays lighting the waves on fire.
“Uh. Yeah.”
I tightened my arm around her. “Wasn't expecting you to just go and blurt it out.”
“Me, either,” she admitted.
“So why did you?” I ruffled her hair. “We didn't even get to eat.”
She smiled. “Sorry.”
We'd sat in awkward silence for a few minutes after Annika arrived, no one volunteering to speak.
Annika had complained. “I thought we were eating.”
I glanced at her and she frowned. “Dinner? This was supposed to be a family dinner. Did everyone suddenly lose their appetites?”
When no one responded she'd turned on her heel and marched into the kitchen. “Well, I'm eating,” she called over her shoulder. “With or without you guys.”
Abby's parents had sat motionless on the couch, her mother examining her cuticles and her dad staring blankly at the wall in front of him. I hesitated for just a minute, then stood up, pulling Abby along with me.
“I'm not hungry,” she told me.
“Me, either.” And I'd tightened my grip on her hand and led her out the front door and to my truck.
“I'm sorry,” Abby said again, her eyes focused on the waves crashing on the beach.
“For what?”
“For what happened back there.”
I snorted. “Please. You can't control how people are gonna react to the news.”
“I should have waited,” she said. “Until after dinner. And two bottles of wine.”
I grinned and pulled her closer. “Wine probably would have been good.”
She shook her head in disgust. “I don't know what the hell I was thinking. So stupid.”
“Stop,” I told her. “The goal for the night was telling your parents about the baby. Mission accomplished.”
She sighed. “Yeah, but I'm not sure they're ever gonna speak to me again.”
I tilted my head so it was resting against hers. “They'll speak to you,” I said. “And they'll still love you. And they're gonna love our baby. Everybody is just gonna have to get used to it.”
I felt her stiffen a little and she turned her face so she was looking at me, her eyes damp. “Our baby,” she repeated, her voice soft.
“Sounds good, right?”
She closed her eyes and smiled. “A little. Mostly, it sounds terrifying.”
“Well, yeah,” I admitted. “That, too.”
She'd hit the nail on the head. It
was
absolutely terrifying. But it was kind of like waiting on a big wave or staring down a hundred mile an hour fastball—they might scare the shit out of you but you knew there'd be something exhilarating about riding that wave or smashing the ball over the centerfield wall. The ride was bound to be bumpy over the next few months—hell, over the next eighteen years—but it was something I knew we would be good at. Better than good.
“I need to go to a doctor.”
I tensed up. “Why? What's wrong? Are you bleeding again?”
“No. Nothing like that,” she said. “But I need to go see a regular doctor. Like, for check-ups and stuff.”
I relaxed just a little but kept my arm tight around her. “Oh. Right. We can do that.”
“We?”
I stared at her. “Yes, we. You're not going to the doctor by yourself.”
“I'm not?”
“Nope.” I shook my head, dropped a kiss on her hair. “This is us, Abby. All us.”
THIRTY-ONE
ABBY
The house was silent when I got home. The living room was dark, the television black. The only sound was the antique clock sitting on top of the bookshelf, the ticking a steady, rhythmic beat. I dropped my purse on the side table next to the living room and kicked off my sandals. A spray of sand hit the floor and I debated grabbing the broom to clean it up. I decided against it, telling myself I'd sweep first thing in the morning.
“I'm sorry.” A voice spoke from the darkness.
I peered into the living room. A shadowy figure sat on the couch. My mother.
I ran my hand along the wall and flipped the switch. The table lamp next to the sofa lit up and I saw my mom sitting cross-legged on the couch, her hands folded in her lap. She'd changed into pajamas, a pair of flannel pants and a loose-fitting t-shirt. The purple headband was gone and her curls sprang from her head like tightly wound coils. I knew she'd taken a shower since West and I had left and had allowed it to dry naturally.
“Will you...will you come in and talk to me?” she asked.
I didn't answer but I took a step toward her, into the living room. A few steps closer and I sank down on to the couch. Not right next to her, but close.
“Your dad and I...” her voice trailed off. She bit her lip, swallowed, then tried again. “Your dad and I were just...surprised.”
“West and I were, too.”
She nodded quickly and her curls bounced. “I can imagine.” She rubbed her hands together. “I know you said you thought everything through. I'm glad.”
I nodded and said nothing.
“I just wish...” she started, then stopped. She swallowed again. “I just wish you would have come to me. To talk.”
I stole a quick glance at her. She was staring at her hands, her fingers a twisted mess as she rubbed her palms together. I felt a twinge of guilt.
“I'm sorry,” I said. It had never occurred to me to talk to her about it. Not because we weren't close—we were—but because of the situation. If West and I had been married and found out we were having a baby? She would have been the first person to know. Well, the first person after Tana. But there was shame and worry in the position I was in. Shame because of the situation—unwed and unprepared—and worry because I didn't know how she would handle the news.
“Look,” she said, clearing her throat as she brought her eyes to mine. “I know it was hard to tell us. I know it's always been difficult to tell us things that are hard.” I raised my eyebrows in question and she tilted her head. “Annika?”
I averted my eyes and nodded. I remembered very clearly the conversation I'd had with my dad about my sister after she'd pretended to be me with West.
“But just because things are hard doesn't mean you should keep them from us.” She reached out her hand and touched my leg. “We're your parents, Abby. We want to help.”
“I know,” I told her. I sank back into the couch and stared at the ceiling. “But there was nothing you could do to help. You couldn't undo what had happened.”
“You're right,” she said. “We couldn't. But we could be there to support you. Be a sounding board. Offer advice.”
I straightened and turned to look at her. “Okay.” I grabbed the throw pillow next to me and pulled it into my lap. “What advice would you have given me? If I'd just told you. If we hadn't already made a decision.”
She considered this for a moment. “I would have gone through all the options. Abortion. Adoption. Keeping it.”
“That's not advice,” I pointed out.
“True,” she admitted. She took a deep breath and held it for a moment before slowly releasing it. “I would have encouraged you to do exactly what you're doing.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
She tugged on one of her curls and tried to tuck it behind her ear. It sprang right back to her cheek. “Yes,” she said.
“Even though we're too young? Even though we pretty much have nothing figured out?”
“Yep.” A faint smile appeared on her lips.
She'd caught me off guard. I didn't know what I'd expected her to say but, if I'd had to guess, I'd thought my parents would have suggested an abortion. They weren't religious so there were no moral demons hanging over them when it came to that issue. And I knew how important school was to them. They'd both gotten their real estate licenses and my dad had gotten his degree after Annika and I were born, taking night classes so he could work during the day.
“Why?” I asked.
She lifted her eyes so they were locked on me. “Because you're in exactly the same position I was in, sweetheart.”
My mouth dropped open. “What?”
She picked at a thread on her pants. “You and your sister. You were a surprise. Something we weren't expecting.”
“But you were already married,” I said. They had been. I knew the story, had seen the pictures. My mom and dad at Balboa Park, exchanging vows in front of the fountain in the park, a small group of friends and family surrounding them.
“I found out I was pregnant five days later.” She smiled again. “I fully expected to have my period on my wedding day. Was supposed to. Nothing like wearing white and standing up in front of a ton of people and worrying about whether or not your tampon's gonna hold.”
I couldn't help but chuckle.
“It didn't come,” she continued. “I thought it was just stress or nerves or whatever. So did your dad. We went on our honeymoon and I remember waiting for it to finally show up. It never did.” She smiled and shook her head. “I took a test at the airport.”
“The airport?”
“Coming back from Oahu.” She pressed her lips together to hide the smile. “We didn't speak the entire flight home.”
I'd known they'd had us right away. And I knew we were early, born around 34 weeks. But I'd never done the math, never asked any questions.
“Was Dad upset?” I asked.
My mom shook her head. “No. Just surprised. We wanted kids—we just weren't sure about having them right after getting married.”
I nodded. I knew exactly what she meant.
“So, anyway,” she said. “If you'd asked me—before you made up your minds—I would have encouraged you to do what you're doing.”
“Why?” I asked again.
“Because you remind me an awful lot of me when I was young,” she said. There was a faraway look in her eyes. “And West, in his own way, reminds me of your dad.”
I let her words sink in.
She scooted closer to me and reached out for my hand. I let her take it just as I pushed myself into her embrace. Her free arm folded around me and I sank against her chest, breathing her in. Her arm tightened around me and her chin rested on top of my head.
“But mostly, I think you should do it because I know you can. I know you'll be good at it. And I know that you and West will be good at it
together
.”
THIRTY TWO
WEST
My phone buzzed. I bolted out of bed and reached for it, my heart beginning to jackhammer as the name on the screen registered in my brain.
Abby.
I slid my thumb across the screen.
Talked to my mom.
The light from the phone was blinding in my dark bedroom and I had to blink a few times and squint as I typed back.
Everything ok?
Yes.
Yeah?
Yes. :)Sleep. I'll find you in the morning. Xoxoxo
I dropped the phone back on the nightstand and sank back into the bed. I was wide awake and my eyes had adjusted to the darkness. I stared at the shadows on my ceiling.
Abby had gone home and talked to her mom. And it had gone well, at least according to her. I breathed a sigh of relief.
One hurdle down.
A million more to go.
THIRTY-THREE
ABBY
“Nothing fits.” I examined myself in the mirror in my bedroom, loosening the drawstring on the black cotton shorts I was wearing. They stretched tight across my belly and hugged my expanding hips.
Tana was lounging on my bed, her hand buried in a bag of pretzels. “Duh.”
I glared at her. “Thanks.”
She bit the pretzel stick she was holding in half. “You're almost four months pregnant, Abs. Nothing is supposed to fit. Well, except maternity stuff. Which you should probably go shopping for.”
I made a face. “I don't wanna shop for maternity clothes.”
“Why not?”
“Because.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Because...?”
“Because it makes me feel old. Matronly.”
She laughed. “Matronly? Uh, you're pregnant, not an old married hag.”
I smiled. “Gee. Thanks.”
“Speaking of,” she said, shoving another pretzel in her mouth.
I tugged a t-shirt over my head. It was one of West's and it should have been loose and baggy. Instead, it looked like I could march myself over to a wet t-shirt contest. Well, a wet t-shirt contest for pregnant chicks. “Speaking of what?”
“Getting married.”
“We weren't.”
“No?” She adjusted herself on my bed so she was sitting cross-legged, the bag of pretzels planted on her lap. “Well, we are now.”
I joined her on the bed and reached into the bag, drawing out a handful. My morning sickness had ended right at the twelve week mark and I was always starving. Always.
“When are you and West getting married?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Who says we are?”
“You're having a baby.”
“So?” Getting married was not something we'd talked about. There were too many other things going on.
Tana rolled her eyes. “Oh, okay. So you're gonna stay here with mom and dad and West'll live in his apartment? You gonna arrange dates for him and the baby, too?”
“Shut up,” I said, only half-teasing.
“I'm serious, Abs.”
“We haven't really talked about it.”
“Don't you think you should?” When I didn't answer, she sighed. “Not trying to be difficult here. But I'm your best friend. Your best friend who's only in town every few weeks. Your best friend who's getting her ass kicked at school. I need to hound you on
my
time.”
I couldn't help but smile. “No shit.”
“So, what have you guys decided? I mean, besides the fact that you're keeping the kid?”
I grabbed another handful of pretzels and ate them methodically, one at a time. Because I was hungry, yes, but mostly because I didn't want to talk. We hadn't discussed much of anything in the month since we'd announced the news to my parents. West was still in the thick of baseball season and I was dealing with mom's health issues. Her PET scan had come back normal but her markers were still elevated. There were no clear cut answers but she'd decided to go ahead with a preventative mastectomy.
“Waiting,” Tana said, nudging me with her thigh.
“Not much,” I finally said. “We've just focused on the day to day stuff. Work. Baseball. My mom.”
Her expression softened a little. “She get a date for her surgery?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Two weeks from now.”
“And everyone is...okay with it?”
“The only one who needs to be okay with it is her,” I said.
Tana's brow furrowed. “I guess.”
“So, anyway, we've sort of been thinking about other stuff. Stuff that needs attention right now. This?” I motioned to the small bulge my stomach had become. “This can wait.”
“Well, it can't wait forever,” she said. “It's gonna come out, you know. And you're going to need a plan.”
I smiled. “I'm aware. And West and I are going to get some stuff settled once baseball is done.”
And we would. It was the beginning of May. I was going into finals and West was nearing the end of baseball season. Once we got through those things, we could focus on the future. What we wanted to do.
“You better,” she said. She handed the bag of chips to me and stood up, brushing crumbs from her shorts. “I need to start prepping to be an aunt, you know.”
“Aunt?” I feigned surprise. “I thought I was a twin, not a triplet...”
She grinned. “Shut up. You know I'll be a better aunt to that kid than your sister will ever be.”
She had a good point. I'd seen Annika once since the dinner fiasco, when we'd shared the news with my parents, and she hadn't mentioned the pregnancy. I wasn't sure if it was because she didn't care or if she'd simply forgotten. She was probably too wrapped up in end-of-year sorority stuff to focus on much else. But I also knew she was keeping a low profile because of Mom. She might have been the one who'd said we needed to face reality but she was never one to take her own medicine.
“You'll be the first to know.”
“Know what?”
I folded up the bag of pretzels and leaned back on my bed. “Everything.” A knock sounded and I turned my head so I was facing the door. “Yeah?”
The door opened and my mom peered into my room. She was in shorts and a T-shirt, her short hair hidden by a baseball cap emblazoned with the company logo. She looked normal, healthy, not someone who was potentially battling a life-threatening illness.
“Am I interrupting?” she asked.
I sat up. “No. We were just talking.”
She smiled. “Just like old times.”
Tana and I glanced at each other. Nothing was like old times anymore—she lived five hours away and I was pregnant—but we nodded our heads in unison, anyway.
“I'm leaving for a doctor's appointment,” she said.
I sprang to my feet. “Oh. Do you want me to go along with?” I wracked my brain, trying to remember her mentioning an appointment.
“No, no,” she said, waving her hand. “Just wanted to let you know. I'll be home in an hour or so.” Before I could respond, she closed the door.
Tana watched me as I sank back down on the bed. “They still okay with everything?”
“Everything” was code word for the baby. I knew my mom was; she'd always made a point to ask how I was doing, how I was feeling. My dad had taken a more conservative approach but I didn't expect him to fawn over me. After all, I was still his little girl.
“Yeah, I think so.”
She nodded. “Good. You're gonna need them.”
I raised my eyebrows. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
She shrugged and reached for the bag of pretzels. “I dunno. Having the baby seems like it's gonna be the easy part. The other stuff? Having someone you're responsible for...for the rest of your life? That's the part that would scare the shit out of me.”