Pleasure Extraordinaire 2 (PURSUIT) (13 page)

“Lindsay will be here too, but make sure she doesn’t get involved with anyone unless
it’s requested by the minister himself.”

Lindsay? Fuck. With my bad luck, the minister will ask for only her for twenty-four
hours long. I’ll have to get in contact with her to warn her off accompanying Michael’s
guests. On the other hand, I have no idea how she can say no to Michael.

“I’ll see to it.” I work hard to listen to the details about the special guests, grab
a pen and notebook to jot down their likes and dislikes, and ask questions to keep
my thoughts away from Lindsay at least while in Michael’s presence. The thought of
Lindsay in the hands of some Russian jerk isn’t something that can be ignored easily.

I
run out of the PE building as if there’re explosives in it, and in a sense, there
are. Ace looked completely outraged, almost traumatized by the news of Michael’s unannounced
visit. I have no idea about their father-son relationship, but I have this nagging
feeling that the two aren’t exactly on their best terms.

That and my fear of facing Michael when I’m at my dirtiest, lowest, sluttiest makes
me want to grow a pair of wings so I can fly away from PE’s sex-filled walls as quickly
as possible, although I know that he knows what I’m doing here.

I drive to my home to shower, change into normal clothes, which won’t reveal majority
of my body, and then text Taylor to ask about her plans for the evening.

Her reply arrives immediately. “I’m leaving for a dinner with Adriana. Adam has an
errand to run and won’t be coming until midnight. Help!”

My text: “Lindsay to the rescue! Make sure they serve margaritas wherever we’re going.
I’m planning to get her drunk and take her picture while she’s making out with the
bartender, then blackmail her to get her to behave nicely to you. It’ll be fun!”

Taylor: “I can’t say something similar hasn’t crossed my mind. One problem, though.
She’s bringing her little son.”

My text: “No problemo. We can cuddle with her son while she cuddles with the bartender.
Btw, how is my nephew/niece doing in your tummy?”

“Hopefully growing,” she replies, adding a smiley-face sign and the address of the
restaurant. I want to assure her that this time she’ll have a healthy baby and to
offer her free babysitting for life, but what if she doesn’t? If I’m feeling this
insecure, how must she be feeling?

For some reason, I manage to arrive at the restaurant before Taylor and give Adriana
an awkward hug. She and I probably exchanged only a few words during Taylor, and Adam’s
wedding reception and have never been alone.

“So, how are you?” I ask, trying to remember her son’s name. Aiden, Jason?

“Not so well. The move has been going terribly. I have to deal with a lot of things
with the new house and, as if I don’t have enough on my plate, Felix refuses to sleep
through the night.”

Oh, Felix. Where did I get Aiden from? “He seems fine now. Huh, little boy? Aren’t
you the cutest baby in the world?” I coo and soften my voice while caressing his cheek
with my finger, and he responds with the sweetest, heart-melting smile, revealing
his four teeth, trying to grab my finger. Taylor arrives while Felix and I are exchanging
intimate smiles, apologizes for her tardiness, and shakes hands with Adriana. As in
no hugging. Huh? I have a suspicion whose fault it is.

“Would you mind taking care of Felix for a second? I have to use the restroom,” Adriana
asks and Taylor and I both nod and wave our hands at her.

“Oh, please go and never come back, and leave your cute boy to us,” I whisper to Taylor
after I make sure Adriana is gone.

Taylor lifts the boy from his high chair and holds him in her arms, kissing his cheeks
several times. “He’s so sweet, I can kiss him all night long.”

“I was thinking the same thing. So much the opposite of his mom. I’m sure she adopted
him or exchanged babies in the hospital, because this cutie can’t possibly have come
out of her.”

Taylor laughs and makes silly sounds to the baby, taping on his little nose with her
finger, tickling him until his laughter fills the restaurant.

Adriana comes back, looking pale and shocked, and without any notice or permission
grabs Felix out of Taylor’s arms. “You should be gentle with him. He’s not strong
enough to be roughened up,” she bellows. Roughened up? A few heads from nearby tables
turn to our direction.

Taylor’s face reddens in the instant. “I’m sorry. I didn’t...”

“Come on, Adriana. What’s your problem? She didn’t do anything wrong,” I say, angry
at Taylor for apologizing for something she didn’t do. She’s giving Adriana reason
to bully her.

“When’s Adam coming?” Adriana asks Taylor, totally ignoring my comment.

“He’s not coming,” I answer her. “Must have better things to do than listening to
your bullshit.”

“Lindsay,” Taylor yells at me, her eyes shooting fireballs of rage, and I wish she
could yell at Adriana with the same anger. “Something came up at work in the last
minute. He had to stay and deal with it,” she explains to Adriana with a softer voice.

“Whatever, let’s order,” Adriana says, placing the boy back in his high chair, and
grabs the menu. I seriously wonder what her problem with Taylor is. Some women have
to deal with overly protective mother-in-laws; Taylor has to deal with a bitch as
a sister-in-law.

In addition to food, I order a pitcher of margaritas, but neither Taylor nor Adriana
want to share with me. Adriana claims to be still breastfeeding her son as an excuse,
and Taylor uses the good old designated-driver excuse. So, I’m left with enjoying
the drink all by myself.

I must say alcohol definitely helps me filter out most of Adriana’s bullshit. I’m
sure her husband must be an alcoholic in order to have enough libido to produce four
kids with her. Taylor doesn’t even dare smile at the baby’s attempts to get attention.
It’s just sad. I hope she’ll have her own baby and get a restraining order against
Adriana so she pays for her rudeness with not being able to interact with her nephew/niece.

Through the end of the dinner, we three fall into silence. Adriana seems to have run
out of her nonsense about her restaurant business and her children. Taylor wipes her
lips with the napkin and leaves for the restroom, blowing an air-kiss to baby as she
leaves. I don’t miss Adriana’s eye-rolling at Taylor’s cute gesture. She seriously
has issues with Taylor, and I’m going to find out the reason, even though I risk being
excommunicated from all things related to Garnetts.

“Adriana, I’m very curious about something, and I hope you’ll shed a light on my curiosity.”

“Sure.” She nods, looking intrigued about my question.

“What’s your issue with Taylor, really? Hmm? She has been nothing but nice to you
the entire time. She loves your brother and has always been kind to your family. Why
is it that you treat her like a piece of dirt?”

She freezes, can’t even blink her eyes. Her boy cries loudly after nearly half an
hour of sitting silently and cooing around as if he understood my attack on his mother.
Even if Adriana decides to answer my question at this point, I won’t be able to hear
her words over the shrill screams of the boy.

Adriana murmurs something, and I can only make out “breastfeeding.” I watch her throw
a rather large shawl around her shoulders and chest and hold the baby in her arm,
under the shawl. My ears haven’t misheard her. She indeed said breastfeeding. Is breastfeeding
in public allowed?

The boy’s loud cry comes to a sudden halt, once he starts sucking on the nipple, at
least that’s what I think he’s doing under the shawl. Adriana doesn’t dare look at
me and occupies herself with Felix.

When Taylor shows up again, her whole demeanor looks shifted. She looks sick, ghostly
pale, and sad. Can she be offended by Adriana’s breastfeeding in public? I can tell
the people at the surrounded table are.

“What’s wrong?” I ask when she doesn’t speak and just watches Felix’s hand moving
up and down.

“I’m bleeding,” she whispers almost inaudibly. I don’t even see her lips moving.

“Oh, my god.” Shit! Not again. When the witch of Adriana can’t headcount her children,
Taylor has to lose yet another one. I move my chair close to hers to hug her. Taylor
collapses onto my shoulder and cries.

“What’s going on?” Adriana asks, looking dumbfounded.

“She’s having a miscarriage,” I say, but immediately regret my openness. Taylor wanted
to keep it secret from Adam, and now I’m revealing it to Adriana. Great job, Lindsay.
I’ve probably given her yet another thing to use against Taylor.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Adriana says, and for the first time, there’s sincerity
in her voice. It’s so unusual, it sounds as if someone else has spoken on her behalf.

“Would you mind if we leave now?” Taylor asks to Adriana, and Adriana simply nods.
I pay the tabs and slip my arm around Taylor’s waist as we walk to the parking lot.
I realize I won’t be able to drive, with the level of margaritas running through my
veins. Taylor doesn’t look like she can handle driving at the moment, either. So I
call a cab, and together we drive to my condo.

I help her get into my bed, take off her shoes, and run to the kitchen to make us
tea, while she cries silently. Putting two teabags of chamomile into the teapot, I
carry it and two cups to the bedroom. Taylor is lying on her stomach, her head hidden
under my pillow. I place the teapot and the cups on the nightstand and slip under
the bedcovers beside her.

“This too shall pass,” I find myself whispering to her. What a dumb saying, actually.
Of course it’ll pass, but who cares about the future right now? Why does it matter
that the pain will diminish in the future? Maybe it won’t? Maybe it’ll just get worse
if she keeps on having miscarriages. I caress her hair with my hand, incapable of
doing anything else while watching her cry. She wants a child so badly, that’s all
she talks about and probably thinks about.

That must be the root of her problem. Of all our problems.

Wanting something so obsessively that everything else in her life stops mattering
one way or another. If only she focuses her thoughts on something else and stops wanting
a child so badly. She should stop counting the days of her menstruation cycle and,
for the love of everything good in this world, stop buying those high-tech pregnancy
tests that can detect pregnancy at a very early stage. Whoever claims that the technological
advancements are for the good of humanity; here’s the evidence to falsify your claim,
served with disheartening tears of a hopeless woman.

After several minutes of crying, Taylor finally emerges from under the pillow and
wipes her mascara-smeared face with her hand. “I’m starting to think I’m not supposed
to be the mother a child. I’ll most likely screw it up royally, that’s why Mother
Nature is trying to prevent it.”

“As far as the reasons go, that’s by far the stupidest. You’ll make an excellent mother.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I’ve experienced your skills in person. You’ve been mothering me for all
those years, in case you haven’t noticed. As a child, even before I knew our aunt
wasn’t our mother, I loved you more than I loved her. You’re everything a perfect
mother can be. You’re loving, caring, patient, and have I said loving? I love you
as much as I could have loved our mother if I had the chance to get to know her.”

“I’m glad I have you as my sister.” She wraps her hand around my shoulder and pulls
me in over her chest. “Did you know you saved my life before you were even born?”

“What?” I peek up at her and see a slither of smile curving up her lips.

“Yeah. When Mom was around five months pregnant with you, Dad wanted to have a vacation
in Hawaii. It was my first time on a plane. I was giddy with excitement and didn’t
want to sit still in my seat. Just before the plane took off, Mom had a sudden cramp
in her belly and starting screaming. The flight attendants couldn’t do anything to
ease her pain. At the end, Dad decided we had to leave. You’ll not believe me but
that plane, my dear, crashed into the ocean due to some mechanical failure, and no
one survived. Later, when we went to hospital, the doctor said everything was fine
with you. Mom always joked it was you kicking her as a warning to get out, but now
I know you weren’t actually kicking her, you were slapping her.”

I start laughing and crying, as it’s both funny and sad story. “Are you making it
up? I’ve never heard of that before.”

“I’m not making it up. You’re the reason why I’m alive now. I may have lost our mother
and my babies, but you and Adam are my rocks. I don’t need anyone else as long as
I have you and him.”

Zane was right. Not everything is inherently bad. My existence helped save Taylor’s
life twice.

“That’s the right attitude, but don’t give up on miracles.” I hug her, swallowing
an enormous sob. “They really do come true.”