The Beginning of Us (198 page)

“I suspect that what you thought was your period was the spotting most women experience early in their pregnancy. All things considered, you’re very lucky, Ms. Becker.”

I can’t help the scoff that comes out of my mouth. I’m sorry, but did she just say I was
lucky?
What the hell is there about this situation that’s lucky? “Yup, that’s me. Your regular old four-leaf clover.”

Dr. McNamara gives me a glaring side-eye at my flippant attitude.

“For starters, you’re alive. And more importantly, so is your baby,” she chides me, but softens at the last part.

My baby.

And then it’s all-of-a-sudden more real. There is a tiny person growing inside me. A person made up of me and Reid.

So many thoughts scramble my brain, but the most prominent one is of Reid. How will he react?  We’ve barely been together a few months, and now a baby! He never signed up for this – hell, neither did I.

Then I think of our fight over his mother and all those horrible things he said about her. I’m trying to look at this from every possible angle. She is definitely less than worthy of Reid’s attention after how she treated Shane and then Reid after Shane’s death, but the bottom line is that she’s his mom. Reid is here because of her, and I just cannot wrap my head around how he could be so cold and callous to the person who brought him into this world.

If he can so easily erase her from his life – whatever justifiable reason he may think he has – what is going to stop him from wiping me out one day? What’s going to happen when he stops loving me? I’ve been trying to keep them subdued, but my old insecurities are beginning to consume me, and suddenly my walls are snapping back into place.

How would it be possible for me to look into the eyes of my child and hand him off to Reid, knowing that he let his mother die without fighting for her? It wouldn’t. There’s enough pain and suffering out there in the world. I can’t imagine having to deal with the guilt of his mom’s death hanging over me, over us, over our child, when there’s something he can do about it to make it right.

If he’s capable of cutting his mother out of his life when she needs him, could he be capable of doing the same to me and our child?

That last thought hits me like a ton of bricks – our child. While the idea of having a kid when I’m eighteen years old scares the freaking crap out of me, I can’t deny that I would be beside myself with joy that I would finally have the family I’ve wanted for so long. This little tiny person would be a part of me – nothing can come between that.

Unless you’re Reid.

I’m pretty sure my face is a contorted mess as I try to process it all. This is just too much to take in, and I’m so thankful when Dr. McNamara stands up to leave.

“I should have your final paperwork done shortly. You should be out of here by lunchtime. Don’t forget to get those vitamins filled along with everything else.”

Standing at the door, she pauses, her hand hovering over the handle. She turns back around to me and walks back to the bed.

“Maddy, can I just say one thing?” Her tone is cautious, as if she’s treading in unfamiliar waters here.

“Sure. Anything.”

“Don’t worry about it - about being pregnant, I mean. You can worry all you want, but it’s not going to change things. Do you want your first thoughts of your child to be ones of regret or remorse? Worrying does not change your situation, so just let it all play out and embrace the path that’s laid before you – you might find that initially your road is dark and lonely, but eventually the sun will rise and light your way.”

I can see her trying to visibly rein in her emotions, trying to take back her words.

“I’m sorry. I’ve overstepped my bounds. It’s none of my business how you deal with this and how you feel about it. I just…well, I just didn’t want you to feel alone. That’s all.”

Guilt rests heavily in my throat, making me choke on my words a little. “No, believe me, it’s all right. You didn’t overstep any bounds. That was actually really helpful advice.”

“Good. Then I guess I’ll see you later.”

When she gets to the door this time, she offers a small smile and a quiet nod in my direction. And then she’s gone.

I’m left in the room all alone with thoughts about Reid and our baby, about his dying mother and our dying relationship.

I really wish I could ask for some pain medication. I could use something to numb some of the all-encompassing grief that is sucking me down into an abyss of darkness. Tears threaten to drown me, and my chest heaves as I try to draw oxygen into my lungs when the sobs set in.

And of course this is when Reid chooses to enter the room. He practically sprints to my side when he sees that I’m crying. Tenderly brushing away the hair that’s fallen in my eyes, careful not to touch my bruises, he lightly presses his lips to my forehead. He doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t have to. It’s like an unwritten language of love and support. When one of us is hurting, the other just holds on tighter, letting the strength seep into our bones, deep into our soul. It’s never draining or exhausting because we’re always there to give our strength back in return.

While he’s brushing his fingers lightly through my hair, I think about how amazing he’s been while I’ve been recovering. He’s brought me flowers almost every day, and the morning after I woke up, the first thing I saw, besides his shining blue eyes, was the jar of sand from my parents’ beach. He told me that he knew I would want them with me as I healed.

Now more than ever, though, I just wish he would listen to his own words and let his mother back in his life while he still can. Suddenly, agnawing unsettled
feeling
begins to swallow me whole.

The timbre of Reid’s calming voice breaks through my thoughts.

He tips my face up to his and grazes his lips over mine. Physically, I react right away. I’ve missed him, and right now all of this inner turmoil is making me desire his comfort and affection that much more.

“Talk to me, babe. What’s wrong?” He pulls me into his side, and I nuzzle in the crook of his arm.

“Dr. McNamara gave me my discharge papers and said I’d be good to leave here shortly.”  Okay, so I’m beating around the bush a little, but I’m just trying to delay the inevitable.

He crinkles his brow in confusion. “That’s good, though, right?”

“Yeah, of course it’s good. It’s just that she told me something else, too.”

He doesn’t say anything. He just looks at me, his eyes willing me to continue saying whatever it is that I have to tell him. I just can’t spit the words out.

“And that would be? What did she tell you, Maddy?”

I know that when I say these next two words, my world will change irrevocably.

“I’m…I’m pregnant.” The last word comes out on a sob. I hear him gasp in shock, as I figured he would. The bed shifts as he leaps from it, as if he can’t get away from me fast enough.

He’s wildly pacing the floor next to me. “How? I mean, I thought you said you were on the pill.” He’s trying to hide it, but I hear the accusation in his voice.

“Of course I was on the pill. You saw me take them every morning, Reid. The doctor mentioned something about needing a backup form of birth control for the first month.”

“Why didn’t we, then? Why didn’t you tell me about that? Shit!” He runs both hands through his hair and pulls on the ends in frustration.

“Don’t you think I would have told you, if I would have known? The doctor at the clinic forgot to mention that little gem, so now here we are.”

I’m hurt, and I won’t hide it. Does he think I lied to him? He doesn’t want this; I knew he wouldn’t. I know it’s stupid, but all of the crap with his mother and my current feelings of anger aside, there’s a huge part of me that was hoping he would smile and kiss me and be elated.

Being happy after hearing that your girlfriend of less than three months is pregnant is not an equation that adds up for a twenty-one-year-old college graduate. He slumps down into the chair, and he looks utterly defeated – shoulders sagging, head held in his hands.

Shaking his head as it’s cradled in his hands, he says, “What the fuck are we going to do? I fucking start my internship in a few weeks, and it already took an act of God to get them to postpone it because of the accident.”

He might as well have slapped me.

Actually, I might have enjoyed a smack about the face more than I did his words.

“So this is my fault, then? I got knocked up because I didn’t follow instructions that I was never given, and then I went ahead and got myself into a car accident with the sole purpose of screwing up your plans.” I roll my eyes skyward, and seething anger takes over. “And you had absolutely nothing to do with any of this? Did it ever occur to you that I wouldn’t even be in this freaking hospital if it wasn’t for you? You want to blame someone -- blame yourself and your stubborn ass.”

I no longer care about the pain radiating through my body as I storm out of the bed and start packing my things up. Shoving things into my little suitcase with one hand is difficult, but I refuse to let him help. I refuse to soften to him.

Reid steps between me and my suitcase. He’s towering over me, glaring me in the eyes. “And tell me how on earth this is all my fault?”

I’ve never been afraid of his physical size, and, even though he’s threateningly crowding my space, I won’t start now. He may be pissed, but I know he’s not going to hurt me – physically, anyway. His words, however, are certainly going to rip my heart to shreds.

“I said, tell me how this is my fucking fault.” His voice snarls in anger, and I flinch.

I look up into his eyes, which are no longer a peaceful and calming blue. There is a storm raging there, and I am about to unleash its fury.

“How? Well, it’s simple, really.” My tone is like that of an adult trying to calmly and patiently explain a simple task to a child; that is what I’m doing, after all.

“I did not have sex with myself. If you recall, I’ve only ever had sex with you. So while I’m not completely free of blame, I did not do this,” I point to my flat stomach for emphasis, “all by myself.”

He may have half a foot of height and nearly one hundred pounds of weight more than me, but I refuse to back down, so I move in to his physical space for this next part.

“And I’m in this place and screwing up your precious internship because you refuse to do the right thing and call your fucking dying mother!” I don’t scream; I don’t yell. My quiet, calm, even tone conveys my fury well enough.

I turn away from him and go into the small bathroom to collect a few things. When I come back out into the room, he is practically vibrating in anger.

“So we’re going to come back to this again? When are you going to stop throwing my fucking past in my face? She hasn’t meant anything to me for the last five years. That’s it -- it’s over. So get off your fucking high horse and deal with it. Why is it such a big deal to you, anyway?”

“Why is it important to me? Are you really that thick-skulled that you don’t see it?”

“Maybe I am just that dumb, Maddy. So please do me the favor and enlighten me, please.” His voice is dripping in sarcasm, and in this moment I recall every reason I ever had to stay away from Reid in the first place.

“Because my mom
is
dead, and I’ll never get to tell her I love her again. I never had a chance to make my peace with her, to say goodbye. You do, and you’re being an asshole for not taking advantage of it.” I choke down my tears but somehow find the strength to continue. “And because I’m going to be a mom. There’s a person growing inside me who, yeah, okay, I definitely didn’t plan, but I can’t change that. I can’t change the fact that I will love this child with everything that I am, and I don’t think I can be with someone who doesn’t share those same feelings. What happens when you have enough of me and our baby? Will you just walk away like you’re doing to your mom?”

“That’s low, Maddy. You know what she did to me, to Shane. You know everything about me, and you’re going to throw it in my face like this. You know I love you and that I could never turn my back on you.”

While I can see the truth in what he’s just said, he left out the most important piece of information.

Our baby.

He’s walking toward me with his arms outstretched.  I put my arms up in front of me, to protect, to defend, because I know that if he wraps his strong arms around me I’ll give in; I’ll surrender to his love for me, but I can’t act with only my needs in mind.

“No, Reid. Do not touch me. Please just get out. I want to finish getting packed up so I can leave.”

His face sinks, and he looks as if I’ve physically attacked him.

“Are you leaving me? Is this it? Are you saying that we’re over?” There’s disbelief and pain in his words. Anguish settles in over his beautiful face, and I want to make it go away. I want to curl up in his arms and let the world fade away so that it’s just the two of us in our own little bubble, but I can’t. It’s not just the two of us any longer. I can’t be with him and trust him to be with me until I know he is fully capable of loving me and our child the way we deserve to be loved.

Tears are burning in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I will be strong for me and for our baby. This baby deserves a family that loves him unconditionally, and I can now see that Reid is not capable of unconditional love. He needs time to work out his past, because no matter how much he thinks he’s over it, he’s not.