Lost & Found (17 page)

She went to stay with Cameron. Her parents had more room in their huge mansion where she could probably stay and not even see them for an entire week, but she couldn’t go there. Couldn’t bear to feel her mother’s censure and blame for her failed marriage. She already knew her mother had been horrified at catching her and Nate together that day, had been convinced Krissa was cheating on her husband.

And Krissa had a lump of guilt deep inside her that she had been cheating on her husband.

Cameron’s house was noisy and crazy with two toddlers and a baby, although Cameron had just gone back to work. For two hours every morning, a whirlwind of frantic activity took place when Cam and Eric got the kids up, got them dressed, made breakfast, packed bags and exploded out the door.

“I’m exhausted before I even get to work,” Cam complained to Krissa one morning as she ran to change. They’d been on their way out the door when somehow one of the boys had tripped and fallen in the driveway. His nose started bleeding and he’d been crying so Cameron had scooped him up to comfort him and he’d bled all over her silk blouse.

Krissa took Benjamin to the bathroom to clean him up and get the bleeding stopped while Eric loaded Alex and Emma into the van. The least she could do while she stayed there was help. She tried to do what she could.

When everyone had left for the day and the house was blissfully quiet, she got into a routine of cleaning up the dishes Cam always left in the sink and on the counter, knowing how much it would mean to Cam to come home and not have to worry about that at the end of the day. She threw in loads of laundry, started dinner for them. She had to keep busy.

She worked. She’d retrieved her computer and her files and books from the house, set up a cramped tiny office in a storage room above Cam’s garage where she slept on a futon. She scoured the newspaper looking for cheap apartments. She had money coming in, but damn, rent was expensive. She’d need to work harder on expanding her business.

So she threw her heartbroken self into approaching new clients, spent all her time working, e-mailing and researching when she wasn’t doing training. She needed to stay busy to keep from going crazy thinking about the mess her life was in and how much she missed Nate.

He’d been there every day with her, ready to listen to her talk about a client, celebrate a success, comfort her when things went wrong. They’d talked and laughed in the kitchen as they made dinner, and one afternoon as she peeled carrots alone in Cam’s tiny kitchen, a wave of loneliness swept over her so intense she almost dropped to her knees. She clutched the edge of the counter, took deep breaths, pain ripping at her insides.

She’d get over it. Of course she would. It would just take time.

Sometimes she tortured herself wondering what her life would be like. Would she be alone forever? Would she never have the family she’d always wanted? She’d thought she’d been so close, had agonized over having a baby and meanwhile her marriage had been disintegrating around her.

After two weeks at Cam’s place, Krissa found an apartment in Summerland. It was tiny, but cute, on the second floor of a two-story white wood building near the beach. Her neighbors included a surfer dude who reminded her of Nate and Derek ten years ago, two girls who looked barely old enough to live on their own and a young newly married couple sickeningly in looooove. No, it wasn’t sickening. It was sweet. But depressing.

She had nothing, but Derek told her to take whatever she wanted from the house. She wanted nothing, but needed to survive, so Eric and a friend of his with a truck helped her load up some basic furniture and dishes and move it into the apartment. Derek thankfully had been out at the time, probably deliberately.

The apartment building had a small pool, a pretty turquoise blue surrounded by bare concrete and some cheap plastic chairs, but sometimes in the afternoon she’d take her laptop down there and sit in the sun to work. She missed living beside the ocean. The vast, seemingly endless expanse of water had always served to put her own tiny problems in perspective. The little pool just didn’t have the same effect. Although it was water, and the sun sparkling off the gentle ripples, all the mingling shades of turquoise, aqua and azure, did have a soothing effect.

When her second month’s rent was due and she realized she’d been living there a month already, the passage of time surprised her. Each day blended into the next in a blur of automation. Thankfully she kept detailed notes in her day planner or she’d never know when to show up at her clients’ offices for meetings or workshops. One full month of living alone. Cooking meals for one wasn’t the same as preparing food for others, enjoying their pleasure from it. One full month of breakfasts, lunches, dinners. One full month of…

It was then she realized the one monthly thing that hadn’t happened since she’d lived there.

She hadn’t had a period.

She froze over her checkbook. Put a hand to her stomach. How long had it been?

Her last period had been the day Nate had comforted her on the beach. That was—she thought back—over two months ago. Her periods had always been wonky, but…not that much.

Shaking inside, she got to her feet and went into the tiny bathroom, opened the cupboard doors beneath the sink. She used to buy pregnancy tests in bulk, but did she still have…yes. There was one.

She didn’t need to read the instructions. She’d used so many of them, she knew exactly what to do, but her trembling hands made handling the tester clumsy.

She waited. Five minutes took forever. She sat on the side of the bathtub, drumming her fingers in a hollow beat. She checked her watch. Drummed her fingers. Checked her watch. Time.

She looked at the tester. Blinked.

Dear lord. She was pregnant.

Pregnant!

Once again, she laid her palm against her tummy. She stood and looked at herself in the mirror.

She’d lost weight. She didn’t get the same pleasure from cooking as she did when she was feeding someone else, so she hadn’t eaten much lately. That wasn’t healthy for the baby.

She looked healthy, though. Her nose and cheeks had a few more freckles from sitting in the sun by the pool, but also a light golden tan. She’d have to take better care of herself. She’d have to go the doctor. Get an official confirmation.

What if the test was wrong?

She’d never had a false positive in all the months of checking. How cruel would it be of fate to play that trick on her? After all this time, now the last thing she could think about was a baby, and here she was knocked up? Surely to God the test was accurate.

A baby. Her eyes widened in the mirror.

Her knees went weak and she had to grip the edge of the vanity to hold herself up. But still she slid to the floor, crumpled on the bath mat, knocking one elbow against the side of the tub. She leaned there, closed her eyes, sucked in air. Emotion swelled inside her so powerfully she thought she might burst. She wrapped her arms around herself, tears pooling in her eyes then dripping down her cheeks. She bowed her head, leaned her forehead on her knees and let herself cry.

She cried for all the times she’d done the pregnancy test and the harsh disappointment she’d felt each time it was negative. She cried for the life growing inside her and the joy of creating it, of knowing she was going to have a child. And she cried for Nate. That he wasn’t here to know this. That she couldn’t share this with him.

She was all alone. Another cruel twist of fate. Finally she got what she’d wanted—and she was alone. Never mind two fathers for the baby—now she had none. She turned her head to the side and blindly reached for a towel to mop her tears, pressed the soft terry to her face, inhaled the scent of spring breeze fabric softener.

Single women had babies all the time. She could do it.

When she’d sobbed herself dry and limp, she climbed to her feet. She set the tester on the counter by the sink, unwilling to toss it in the trash, the only concrete, real evidence of the life growing inside her. She wandered into her little kitchen and poured herself a glass of milk. She’d have to drink more milk.

She sat on her couch in a daze. The joy bubbling up inside her was tempered with a dose of fear. Worry about doing this on her own. Supporting a child with her fledgling consulting business. Could she make it work for the long term? She’d never exactly had a stable career.

Was she crazy? When she’d been with Derek, she’d blithely wondered about continuing her career, money the least of her worries. Now…oh, God.

Bringing up a child on her own. What if it was a boy? He’d need a dad. He’d need someone to teach him male things.

And what about Nate?

He was the father. Biologically. He would have to know.

She closed her eyes against the pain that stabbed through her. She had no idea how to contact him. And no idea what she would even say to him. Would he be horrified? Or happy?

She would assure him nothing had changed. They’d wanted nothing from him in exchange for his sperm donation and she’d make sure he knew that was the same. She wasn’t going to—oh, God, it hurt—force him to be part of their lives if he didn’t want to be.

And if he did…

She couldn’t even bear to let her thoughts go there. Obviously, he’d shown how much he’d wanted to be part of their lives the day he’d left.

A knock sounded on her door. Her head jerked up. Thinking about Nate…then she remembered Cameron was coming over for a girls’ evening, drinking margaritas, eating popcorn and watching a chick flick. It was a much-needed night of respite for Cameron.

Krissa dragged herself off the couch and went to the door, peeked through the peephole to ensure it was her friend, then unlatched the door.

“Hi!” Cam breezed in, her arms full. “I got the DVD, two bottles of margaritas, and a bag of ice.” She thunked everything down on the counter with a rustle of paper and plastic.

She turned to Krissa and paused. “Hey. You okay?”

Krissa nodded, forced a smile. “Sure.”

Cam tipped her pretty blonde head. “You sure, honey? It’s okay to still be sad about everything.”

Cam had no idea what had really happened. All she knew was Derek had cheated on Krissa and she’d left him.

Krissa nodded, got a big bowl out of the cupboard for the popcorn.

“I’m fine.”

“You kind of look like you just won the lottery, actually,” Cam said, with a perception that startled Krissa. “Like something really good happened but you’re afraid it’s too good to be true.”

Krissa laughed. She ripped the cellophane off the bag of microwave popcorn. “Extra buttery,” she said, waving the flat package before inserting it into the microwave. With a few quick beeps, the oven started humming.

“Where’s your blender?”

They pulled it out, but before Cam could pour tequila into the blender, Krissa stopped her. “Make mine without.”

“Without tequila? Are you kidding me? That’s not a margarita, that’s a…Slurpee.”

“I know.” Krissa smiled. “I don’t feel like drinking tonight.”

Cam’s eyes narrowed. “But that was the whole point of tonight…”

“Oh, come on. The whole point is you and me getting together and watching a movie.”

Cam made a face but nodded and whirred the blender with a non-alcoholic drink for Krissa, then a tequila-laced one for herself.

“God, I needed this.” Cam sank onto Krissa’s couch with her drink in hand. Krissa didn’t have proper margarita glasses so they drank out of tumblers. Whatever. “Those kids are driving me crazy. And so, for that matter, is Eric. God.”

“What now?”

“Oh, everything.” She blew out a gusty sigh. “He’s just useless. He works all day, but doesn’t make any money. Then he comes home and he’s useless there, too. Doesn’t know what to do for the kids. I had to leave detailed instructions on how to get them to bed tonight, what to feed them…” She pushed out her lips. “It’s overwhelming. I feel like I’m doing everything—supporting us, looking after the house, the kids—everything.”

Krissa sipped her tangy lime drink and looked at her friend over the glass. “At least you have a husband.”

“Yeah.” Cam’s expression softened a bit. “I’m sorry. Be thankful it’s just you—imagine if you had three kids and were on your own.”

Be thankful it was just her? Had she heard Cam correctly? She was alone. Admittedly, Cam didn’t know how concerning that was, but…what a stupid thing to say.

“Although, frankly, I pretty much feel like that anyway,” Cam continued. “God, even the sex is non-existent lately. A husband should be good for that much at least.”

“I’m sure Eric is trying.”

Cam grimaced. “Not hard enough.”

Cam’s attention went back to the movie, but anger simmered inside Krissa. Once again, her friend sat there and did nothing but complain, not even realizing how lucky she was.

“Cam?”

“Mmm?”

“Do you love Eric?”

Cam turned toward Krissa, brows lifted. “Do I love him? Yeah, of course I do.”

“Then shut up.”

Cam’s eyes flew wide.

Krissa couldn’t stop the words. She’d kept them inside her for so long, tried to pretend they weren’t there. She couldn’t stop.

“All you do is complain about him. And about your kids. How bad things are for you. You have no fucking idea what bad is.”

Cam blinked, her margarita clutched in her hand.

Krissa squeezed her own drink tightly, the icy-cold glass slick under her fingers. “You have a husband who loves you. Who doesn’t cheat on you. You love him, too. Don’t complain about not having sex. You sleep with him every night. If you want sex—then tell him you want sex.” She almost choked on the words that spilled out of her.

“And don’t…please don’t complain about those beautiful children you have.” Oh, dammit, she was going to cry. Here she’d thought she could get mad and express her anger. But no, the tears had to flow. She swallowed.

“You are so lucky to have three gorgeous children,” she continued fiercely. “Yeah, being a mom is hard, but it’s the most important thing you can ever do. You’re a good mom, Cam, but sometimes I worry you’re going to do to your kids what my mom did to me.”