A Long Time Coming (21 page)

Could he do it? Could he let
the pain take him away at work, as well as at home?

And that’s when thoughts of
Abigail and their baby ran through his mind. Yeah…for their family, he could do
anything. He sighed to himself at the words
their family.
Such a
scary–ass concept…but one that made his heart flip–flop in excitement anyways.

“Hey, you kind of went
somewhere just now, David. You coming back anytime soon, cuz we gotta get to
class now.”

No…yes…hell, he didn’t know
shit anymore. “Uh, yeah, sorry,” he ran a hand through his hair, stepping out
onto the blacktop parking lot.

“Okay then, when can you
start? Tomorrow? Tonight? I need you dude. My aunt will like you with…” he
motioned down at his prosthetic, “you know, with the leg thing and all. It’ll
make the kids feel better too knowing you’re messed up like they are.”

Nice tact. This guy had none.
Zero. But he was used to the bluntness. He growled, shaking his head. He had to
do something for cash, even if it wasn’t much. “Yeah, count me in…tomorrow
though. I’ve got a date tonight.”

“Oh yeah? With that little
sexy blonde—”

“Shut your trap. She’s not
just some
sexy blonde.
She’s…” What was she exactly? His? A best
friend…? His lover…? His girlfriend…? The future mother of his child…? He
sighed as they entered building three. Abigail was a complex puzzle piece to
his disorganized life, that’d be the perfect description for her right now. But
truth be told, when it came down to that one all important word, he knew there
was only one way to describe her: His.

“She’s mine, dammit…and don’t
you ever get any ideas in your head, you got it?” He grinned, heading towards
the elevator just as JT pressed his hands out in front of himself and laughed
hysterically. Let the douche laugh, she was his. Always his—in all the senses
she could be, all the ways he’d ever dreamed of her to be. She was the
completion he needed, his meaning, and his number one purpose.

* * *

The house was silent when he
arrived home, which was strange because his mom was
always
there. Worry
plagued his chest, and he dashed through the living room like the house was on
fire—like his legs were
both
attached. David set himself in motion until
his breath was panting and he was standing right outside his parents’ bedroom
door.

He blinked. His throat burned
from the dryness. Stunned at what he saw there in the darkness of the room, he
somehow still managed to make it over the threshold.

Napping was not in his
mother’s usual agenda, but there she was, doing just that. Having not seen her
since Friday, he crept closer, needing to see her now—needing to check on her.
His knees hit the mattress and he leaned over to look at her face. Shit… she
looked a fucking mess. Slowly, he sat down on the blanket adjacent to her feet,
peeking up at her in greater detail. Dark pocketed lines sat under her eyes,
like she’d either been crying a lot, or she was just downright exhausted. David’s
guess was both.

But he had to wake her, had to
play it cool too. Because he promised his dad he wouldn’t say anything. He
promised to stay quiet, until they could discuss things as a family. But seeing
her and not saying something was going to be damn hard.

“Mom,” his voice was a
whispered choke as he pressed his fingers against her shoulder. “Mom, I’m
home.” He swallowed just as she rolled over onto her back.

“Wow. David. I’m sorry honey.
I just must have been tired.” She darted upwards, smiling her normal genuine
smile at him as she rubbed her eyes. It was hard to smile back, even harder to
make it seem as if he didn’t know the truth.

“No biggie.” He shrugged,
staring down at the flowered pattern of the bed spread.

“You look good, Son. Dad said
you went to Abigail’s last night?” He glanced up at her, eyes widening at the
words. There was excitement behind her grin—probably over the prospect of him
and Abs—but for the first time, in a long time, he didn’t mind seeing it there.

“I did…” he nodded, feeling
his face burn with embarrassment.

Her smile broadened, “And…?”

“We’re finally together now.”
Wow. Where did that come from? Today was a day of shares, apparently. He hadn’t
intended on telling them yet, but seeing her so happy at the prospect, made it
all worthwhile.

Tiny arms wrapped around his
neck—god, had his mother always been this skinny? It was in his head, it had to
be. Paranoia was a bitch. He swallowed as she squeezed him. Dammit, how many
more times did he have left to get these hugs from her? Tears stung his eyes,
but he kept them from falling.

“Well, it’s about time you got
over yourself and did something about it.” Damn this woman.

“Yeah, well, the California
trip kind of put it all in perspective for me.”

“So you
did
go out
there to be with her then…” It was a statement. Not a question. The woman was a
damn genius.

“Uh, kind of? I mean, I was
worried about her.”

“Because you love her…”

“Jeez Mom, nothing like
putting it all out there at once…” She slipped her feet over the edge of the
bed and grabbed his arm with her hand to pull him up, too.

“Come on, I’ll make some lunch
for us. Then you can give me the
PG
version of what happened.”

Christ, his mother was a
fucking trip. And he loved the hell out of her. “I will, Ma, but I kind of need
your help with something, too.”

She led him down the hall, her
shoulders held back—eyes wide as she stared up at him. Knowingness appeared in
her grin once again. “You need help with wooing? Simple…”

Wooing. What the fuck is
wooing?

“Uh, I guess, whatever that
means. We have our first
official
date tonight, and I have the perfect
location in mind, but otherwise, I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Flittering around the kitchen,
his mother held a smile as she readied something to eat. “Well, I can handle the
food part. You handle the location.”

“Food?”

“Yes Son, the food. As in,
the
picnic food
?”

“Picnic?” His head tipped to
the side. A picnic… Huh…it might just work.

“Yes, silly. Harley loved it
when Mason took her on that picnic down by the lake before homecoming last
year. She said it was the most rom—”

“Mom, seriously?” He cringed
sitting back in his seat, crossing his arms, “I don’t want to hear about
Harley’s and Mason’s rendezvous in the park.” Really though, after the visit
with them both, Mason had moved down his shit scale to the point of being sort
of cool. Just sort of though. He just didn’t want him to pressure his sister
into doing the whole marriage thing, especially if she wasn’t ready.

Did his mom know that about
her daughter’s precious surfer boy and what he’d gone and done? What would she
think of him if she knew what he was up to?

“How is my baby girl anyway?
We’re thinking about taking a trip there around Christmas. Maybe you and
Abigail could go, too.”

Christmas… He froze at that
one simple word. His hands plastered to the table top, his stomach churned,
suddenly no longer hungry for food. This
Christmas
might be his mother’s
last. But the way she spoke, the way she bounced around as she made the damn
sandwiches, you’d never think of her as woman who was on the verge of death.
She floored him, completely.

Lacking any real words, David
stuttered hoping he was coherent. “Uh, she’s great. Happy,”
kind of…
“I’d
love to go back.”

“Great, we’ll plan on it
then.” He wanted to say it then, wanted ask her about the disease secretly
stealing her away. He wanted answers most of all. Wanted to know when she
planned on telling them all. Needed to know that she was going to try and fight
this. But still, she stood there, so uncaring about the bad, focused fully on
the good that was her children’s lives.

He watched her curls bob
around her shoulders, the sunlight reflecting off her body like a halo. She was
a beautiful woman, an awesome mom who got blunt, and emotional, and sappy. But
she was his, the only one he’d ever have. And he’d make sure to do whatever it
took to be the son he once was, for her.

No more pity party.

No more hatred for himself and
his situation.

His mother deserved it…

It was raining, well,
sprinkling really. But still, how could they possibly have a good first date if
it was wet outside? It was an omen… She was sure of it. Abigail wasn’t one to
fear the worst things in life. In fact, she always had tried to stay on the positive
side of things. But tonight, she was filled with that annoying sense of
trepidation. It clamped down on her insides, ripping her stomach to shreds,
causing her heartbeat to double in its intense pounding against her breastbone.
Her hand flexed and un–flexed against her chest as she paced the front
sidewalk. Her other hand flattened over her lower abdomen, a piss–poor attempt
at keeping those wicked, anxious butterflies from tumbling around.

The September weather had
taken a turn for the worst, taking the warm summer air and shoving it out of
its way to make room for this cold, rainy crap. She’d at least dressed the
part, right down to the boots covering her little–too–snug around the waist
skinny jeans, topping the entire outfit off with a bulky brown sweater that
would most definitely hide the bulge peeking out from beneath her bellybutton.

Shit though, she’d read up on
all the books, and according to most of them, it said she wouldn’t start
showing for at least another month. What the hell was her issue then?

Shaking her head, she slipped
her phone from her purse, deciding a little gaming was necessary while she
waited for the ride she was told would be here at six–thirty, sharp. It was now
six–thirty–one. She wasn’t a patient girl.

After a round with witches,
rescuing pets, and eliminating little candy jellies from cages, Abigail decided
that she needed some serious game rehabilitation. Or David just needed to get
his big old bulky body there instead. Yeah, the big old bulky body that she
couldn’t wait to see naked again.

Almost giving up, she pressed
the number to dial his phone when the time read seven. It rang once before his
breathless voice sounded on the other end. “Abs, where are you?”

“Umm, I don’t know…
maybe
waiting at my house for you to get here
?”

“Aw, fuck…he didn’t show?”

She scowled down at the
ground, digging her foot into the crevice of the sidewalk. “Who am I supposed
to be waiting for anyways?
Who
didn’t show?”

“My buddy, JT. His dad runs
this limo service in town, and he was getting one to pick you up
and…shit…dammit, get away you mangy mutt!” The sound of the phone clattered to
the ground. She giggled as his curses echoed on the other end. “Jesus
Christ…all right, just…fuck, just wait like, five minutes. Someone will be
there to get you. I’ve gotta go before this random, nasty, stray dog eats all
the cheesecake.”

The phone beeped, signaling
the end of their call. She shook her head, grinning. She no longer cared if he
was late…the boy had gone and gotten her cheesecake. All was
definitely
forgiven
if cheesecake was involved.

Five more minutes ticked by
before a car finally skidded up the driveway. But it wasn’t David, nor Mr. A,
nor David’s friend. Behind the wheel instead sat Mrs. A, a smile bright on her
face, genuine love in her eyes. Abigail held her breath at the vision,
unmoving, not knowing if she wanted to cry, or run and hug her instead. She
settled on none of the above because she’d promised David that she’d keep the
secret as well, and an ugly cry might just drop some obvious hints. But acting
the part of not knowing about her sickness would have to be Oscar–worthy
tonight.

“Hey Mrs. A.” Voice squeaking
a little too brightly, Abigail settled into the passenger seat.

Arms latched around her
shoulders as Mrs. A pulled her into a tight hug. She smelled like cookies,
which wasn’t surprising because the woman was always baking something. She gave
Betty Crocker a serious run for her money. “Oh Abigail, it’s good to see you
sweetheart. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

Smiling into her shoulder,
Abigail wrapped her arms around her pseudo mom and hugged her back, something
fierce. “You too.”

Mrs. A pulled back, but kept
her hands on her shoulders. Her curls fell to the side, her dark eyes searching
her face. Abigail suddenly felt like a wanted prisoner in a line up, waiting to
be identified. What was she looking at? And why was she so…so smiley? “You’re
glowing. Pregnancy suits you well, my love.” She patted her cheek and started
the car back up.

Holy. Hell. She knew? Her
brows pinched together. Then it hit her…damn did her best friend have a big–ass
mouth! “Uh…” What could she say? Because a thank you did not seem a tiny bit
appropriate.

“That’s a compliment sweetie,”
she put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway. Abigail chewed on
her lip, watching her face brighten the more she spoke. “And I honestly thought
Harley would give me my first grandbaby, but now I know I was only fooling
myself.”

How was the lady not pissed
about this? How was she not screaming at the stupidity of their mistake? Sure,
they were nineteen, but they had no goals, nothing to show for themselves yet.
Granted they both attended some sort of college, but beyond that neither one of
them really had much of a plan. Maybe that’s why they were meant to be in the
end: They were just two lost souls, looking for a balance to their lives,
finding it in each other. Yeah, she knew that was the stuff of movies but she
always knew, too, deep down, that the two of them were meant to be.

“Have you been waiting long?
David was pretty frantic when he called.”

Suddenly nervous over God only
knows what, Abigail shrugged, messing around with the loops of her sweater.
“Not too long, a half hour maybe.”

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. David
had such good intentions for tonight, too.”

Blushing, she smiled over at
Mrs. A’s honest face. “No worries. I know it wasn’t his fault.”

“Hmm.” It was the only
response she got back in return. What was she hmm–ing about? Had the truth
finally come forefront to the lady’s brain, making her realize that her son was
screwed now? God, it was hot in there. She needed some serious air. “You warm,
hon?”

Blinking, she stared over at
her profile again. Sweat was pooling against her pseudo mom’s temple, running
down behind her ear. Oh God, it was more than obvious she wasn’t feeling well.
Why had she come to get her then? She should have just driven. Granted, she had
no idea where she’d be going and all, but still, Mrs. A was sick…dying sick.
She didn’t need to be out and about playing her date chauffeur when she could
easily be doing the driving herself. Deciding to play up the card she’d been
given, Abigail fanned her face as she spoke. “Yeah, sweating bullets here—must
be my hormones or something.”

She nodded over at her, in
what appeared to be relief before switching on the air conditioner. “Yeah,
humidity will do that to you too, sweetie.”

Okay, this was an awkward
ride. Nothing about her relationship with David and Harley’s mom had been weird
in the past either. But suddenly, it all just seemed…wrong. Not wrong in the
sense that it wasn’t right, more like wrong being something was missing. Okay,
she’d do something about this. And she’d do it now.

“I can’t fit into my pants
anymore…”

Well fuck a monkey. That was
beyond ridiculous.
Well said Abs, well said.

Brows raised, Mrs. A glanced
down at Abigail’s waistline for a brief second before refocusing on the road.
“Well…
twins
will do that to you, ya know.” She winked. Why the hell was
she winking? This was not something
wink–worthy
. The thought of having
twins
never even crossed her mind. It was not an option. Not at all. Totally not.
Definitely non–doable here.

Stiffened to the point of
being an icicle, Abigail stared holes into her hands that sat trembling against
her legs. Christ…but what if it was? Twins? A David plus one? Or even two of
her…or one of each of them? Lord help her, because if she was somehow pregnant
with twins, then life as she once knew it? Hell…what would it be like? She
didn’t have a damn clue. Mrs. A did it…but Mrs. A was also super mom with a
cleaning rag seemingly attached to her shoulder. Abigail didn’t like to clean.
Abigail liked to do hair…and makeup. Running one of her trembling hands through
her hair, she leaned back in her seat, and tried to let the reality of the
words sink in. Unfortunately, it just wasn’t happening.

Twins? Hell no.

The sense–making woman sitting
to her left continued to spout off the most incomprehensible stuff in her ear.
Or…maybe it was the simple fact that Abigail just didn’t want to listen. “I
mean,
I
was in maternity pants at nine weeks sweetie. So it’s quite
possible you may just have your very own little David
and
Harley in
there, too.”

“Uh…” her mouth hung open and
her throat was burning from dryness. Why did she make this seem like such a
good thing? Mrs. A’s hand patted hers before gripping it fully within her hold.
It was obvious she saw the gaping look on her face, because their preggo–twin
conversation came to a sudden stop.

That was good. More than good.
The last thing she needed was to be thinking on their first date, that they may
be needing to buy twice as much baby stuff when the time came down to doing
this whole parenting shindig.

They pulled up to their old
high school, yet she didn’t have time to stop and wonder why they were there.
All she could think about—all she could
see
—was the six foot plus man
leaning against the gate of the football field, with one single yellow rose in
his hands. She swallowed, reaching for the door, one goal on her mind. David.
Getting to David… Kissing David… She smiled, that is until Mrs. A opened her
mouth again.

“You’re going to be a great
mom, Abigail. And David, whether he thinks it or not, was born to be a daddy.”
The voice that held strength and all things pride for her family flittered away.
And in its place was the sound of a devastating emotion that Abigail didn’t
expect. Desperation… Sadness… Grief…

David forgotten, Abigail faced
his mother. Her eyes were filled with tears as she stared out the front window.
They were like tiny crystals peeking to the surface, but not quite to the point
where they would be big enough to be captured by her eyelashes just yet.

Abigail’s voice was dulled as
it sat almost dormant in her aching throat. Dammit. There was nothing fair
about life. “Mrs. A, I just want to say—”

“I’m not gone yet, Abs. Don’t
make it seem as though I am…” Frozen, with her hand pressed over her lips,
Abigail watched as those tears broke free. Oh God…what was she doing? What was
she saying here? Mrs. A couldn’t be telling her the truth. Her own
children
weren’t even supposed to know it yet. “I…I plan on surviving this thing, for at
least another eight months. I’ve got to kiss and hug my grandkids at least one
time, you know.”

Life didn’t prepare you for
moments like that—the moments where all the truths came rushing at you full
force, with not a moment to prepare yourself for them. Abigail almost hated
life more in that one measly second, than she hated the idea of death stealing
this wonderful woman away from her and from her family.

“I…I don’t know what to say.”

She smiled sadly, the tears
were few and far between, but they were there, and she couldn’t stop looking at
them, hating them for breaking free. “Don’t say anything, hon. And please, by
all means, don’t tell David I know that you guys know. I could have killed my
husband for breaking the news, but he told me why he did it. And quite frankly
I’m glad he did because it brought him back to you.”

Her throat constricted tighter
than ever. Jesus…this wasn’t fair. Nothing about this situation was fair.
Nothing. The worst part was that Abigail didn’t have the heart to tell her
they’d decided in California to take that next step. But really, what the
beautiful woman next to her didn’t know would never hurt her. Things happened
for a reason though, and with the bad came the good. She could only hope that
the bad had taken its turn long enough so that the good could finally have the
last say in life. She wasn’t holding her breath though. She knew life’s
disappointments were secret little bitches that would sneak up on you when you
weren’t paying attention. She’d just have to be better prepared for them the
next time.

“Your mom loves you, Abigail.
Your father loves you too, even though he may only be your uncle.” Okay, wow.
So when had this lady become a fortune teller? Abigail questioned her with her
eyes, tears inappropriately dashing down her own cheeks as she did. Damn, she
shouldn’t be crying when the lady who was on the verge of death had a sad smile
on her face!

Glad for the subject change,
even though it wasn’t for the better, she spoke through the tightness in her
throat. “I don’t understand. They didn’t tell me anything, I wasn’t prepared. I
mean, I knew they never really got along growing up. Now that I think about it,
I don’t even remember them kissing or anything.” She bit down on her lip,
trying to remember any piece of a memory where the two of them looked as if
they were in love. There was nothing there. A kinship in parenting—but other
than that, nothing. She shook her head, escaping the thoughts to speak. “And
now my supposed
dad
is gone, and my
mom
is avoiding me
altogether! How do I get answers when they just don’t seem to care?”