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Authors: Abby McCarthy

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“That motherfucker. What did he do to you? I’ll stab him.”

“Good luck with that; he’s gone,” I say and wrap my arms around Liz’s waist and cry some more. She strokes my head, moving the hair behind my ear with her fingers.

“Did he leave town for work or something?”

“Or something,” I tell her not wanting to get into exactly what happened just yet.

“Honey, you tell me when you’re ready, okay?”

“Thanks, Liz.” I close my eyes and let my heart ache seep from the corners of my eyes.

“It’s going to be alright. You’ll see whatever this is, we’ll work it out.”

“I loved him,” I whisper out.

Liz lets out a breath, “I was afraid of that,” she sighs. “We’ll get through this.” I stay in her arms for a long time until I finally fall asleep.

“Morning! Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” Liz bounces into my room. I feel like hell. Days of crying are worse than any hangover. My body hurts. My head hurts. My heart hurts. Everything hurts.

“Go away,” I mumble.

“No, you’ve missed two days of classes, and I know you can't miss any more. You know what you have to do?”

“Go back to bed?”

“No! You have to get out of bed and fake it ‘til you make it. You might be heartbroken and this douche might be gone, but you can’t let it break you. You’re strong, June. The strongest person I know. You can do this. You need to do this. If you get put on academic probation, you will never get that junior editor position offered to you. You know a strong GPA is one of their requirements. This guy just took your heart. I won’t let him take your dream.”

“Liz,” I mumble again knowing she is right, but also knowing he was my dream and that burns.

“No, I know you want to wallow and I don't blame you, but you can’t afford to. I won’t let you screw up because of some jerk.”

I suddenly feel very protective of Jake, “He’s not a jerk.”

“Have you been crying for the last few days?” she asks.

“I guess.”

“No, I guess about it. He’s a jerk because he’s not here.” I couldn't argue with that logic.

“Come on. We’ll hit the gym before class. I’ll have your thighs burning so bad you won't be able to think about anything other than how much you want to kill me.”

“I already do,” I relent and get out of bed and throw on some workout clothes deciding I’ll shower after she kicks my butt.

Liz does as promised and as has me working out so hard I want to puke. She’s right. It helps keep my mind off of Jake, and I make it through the day. I go to my classes, and the bookstore. She does the same to me the next day, and then the next.

Dietz calls to check in on me, but it feels forced like it’s out of obligation.

On Saturday, I have an assignment for The Scene and Liz doesn’t let me skip out on that either. I have to give it to her, she is one determined friend. I would give up and curl in on myself, but she won't let me.

On Sunday, I get in the car, ready to drive two hours south to the prison. I’m a ball of nerves. I’m anxious, sad, apprehensive and somewhat excited to see him. As I start the car and put it in reverse to pull out of the spot, my passenger door swings open. “Where are we going?” Liz asks.

“I’m going somewhere,” I say hoping she’ll get the hint and leave me. I need to do this.

“You’re going to him, aren’t you?”

A guilty look flashes across my face and before I can protest again Liz has her ass planted in the seat beside me. “Let’s go.”

It’s not ten minutes into the drive before I hear, “No judging, I swear. Where are we going?”

“You won’t understand. Heck, I hardly understand.”

“You’ll feel better having someone on your side. You can tell me.”

“Where to even start,” I sigh.

“How about at the beginning?” she asks. I know I need to tell someone. I can’t keep this in and let it eat away at me. Besides, soon enough she'll know we're headed to a prison.

“Lucas’ name is really Jake Daniels.”

“Wait a minute, he’s Jake? Like Jake, Jake? The one you’ve held on to for all of these years?”

“He is, but I didn’t know it for sure until the other day. I thought they resembled each other and I was actually struggling with my feelings for him because I thought I was misplacing them or some shit. Like maybe I was into “Lucas” more because I thought he reminded me of Jake. But I fell for Lucas too. No matter what he calls himself, I would. So, here’s where it gets interesting. When we were kids, I was so into him. He was the first guy that I did anything with, but it wasn't about that, you know? We had this connection that went deeper than physical. It was like he just called to me in every way.

“His dad was an asshole. He beat the shit out of him; it was bad. He made Jake drop out of high school and pretty much made him work twenty-four-seven. I wanted to spend time with him, so I helped him as much as I could. One day, when the summer was coming to an end, Mr. Daniels showed up. I didn't know it at the time, but he’d caught Jake and I fooling around.”

“Oh, no,” Liz looks at me wide eyed.

“Oh yes, but that’s not the worst. I didn’t want to miss any time with Jake so I pushed and got his dad to let me go fishing with them. On the boat, Mr. Daniels was drinking and just being mean. He kept making these comments to Jake that made me hate his dad. The water started to get choppy. There were huge signs that the weather was about to turn bad and that a storm was coming. Jake tried to warn his dad, but that just made him even angrier. Mr. Daniels lost some fishing rig in the water and he made Jake swim out after it. I was scared for Jake. I knew he was a good swimmer, but the water was still so choppy. While he was out there, Mr. Daniels started saying stuff to me, how he saw me and Jake together and that I was a whore. He grabbed me, so I smacked him.”

“Good for you,” Liz is angry on my behalf. I give her a look and then continue.

“So, once I smacked him, he grabbed me by the throat and started undoing his belt buckle. I was scared shitless. Jake got there and the two started fighting. Liz, Mr. Daniels was huge. Jake didn't have a chance. He was beating Jake, so I grabbed this oar, hit him with it and he went overboard.”

“Oh, my God! Thank God, you found that,” Liz says.

“It was so bad. He didn't come back up and we couldn't find him. I was shaken up and Jake was badly beaten. He was able to bring the boat back in and I went to his house to wash up. He held me and told me it was all okay. He said that no one would know; that his dad was a drunk so everyone would just assume he had an accident on the water.

“When he walked me home I was still shaken up. Then we reached my place and I knew when I saw the car and the trailer packed up that we were leaving early. I remember my dad seeing us when we walked up. If Jake didn’t get roughed up by his dad all the time then I think my dad would have made a bigger deal about Jake’s appearance. I remember wanting to tell him what his daughter did. I killed a man. No matter what Mr. Daniels did, he didn’t deserve to die.”

“He would’ve killed you both. Don't do that. Don’t take the blame for some sick old man. It wasn’t your fault.”

I nod and continue my story, even though I don’t I agree with her. It was my fault. If I didn't push to go out there none of it would’ve happened, and then we didn't go after him. We should’ve gone after him. We shouldn’t have let the current take him.

“My dad told us that he was taking this assistant coaching job and we needed to leave early. He said he’d give us a few minutes to say goodbye, and just like that we were leaving each other. I remember crying in Jake’s arms. How could it all be over just like that? He told me it was okay and that he loved me. He told me he would make sure everything was okay and that he would find me. He took my number and promised to call. He told me not to stress over his dad and that everything would be okay. He said he’d protect me and make sure no one knew what happened and he assured me over and over again that I did the right thing. He even thanked me for protecting him, saying he had never had anyone do that before. I said goodbye to him that night and cried for weeks. It was the hardest thing I ever had to go through.”

“And then you never heard from him again, right?” Liz asks remembering how I told her I fell in love once and hoped I’d hear from Jake, but never did.

“Right, not until that night at the bar. I thought it was him and I wanted it to be him, but then he said his name was Lucas. So the other night after an awesome date, we get back to his place and have this mind-blowing sex. I wake up to him on the keyboard and he’s singing. The lyrics he was singing told me without a doubt that he was Jake. Before I could really ask him why he kept it from me, there was this loud banging on the door and it was the police.”

“No!” Liz gasps.

“Yes, and they came in and arrested him for the disappearance of his dad.”

“No!”

“Yes and it gets worse. I went to the police station and he tells me I can't say anything and that he’s doing what’s best. He says I’ll be in danger if I tell anyone and that he needs to say goodbye to me. He says it wasn’t me, but we both know it was. And then he tells me he already took a plea deal and is going away for four years. I tried to talk to the prosecutor and she said if this goes to trial he’ll end up with a ton more jail time and that I need to stop or I'm going to seriously end up getting him more time. So here we are. We’re on our way to see Jake in prison doing time for a crime he didn't commit.”

Liz’s face is filled with compassion, “Oh honey, what are you going to do?”

“I don't really know what I can do. I don't want to make it harder for him. I’m hoping I’ll get some answers today. It’s been killing me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she asks.

“Guilt I guess,” I say shrugging. “I can't help but feel like this whole thing is my fault.”

“Jake said you would be in danger?”

“Yeah, it doesn't make sense. Danger from who? Danger from what? See, he left me with so many unanswered questions.”

We talk for a while longer and go over all the possibilities. I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders by my confession. All this time, I’ve never told anyone what happened. My behavior changed after that summer, so much so that my parents tried to put me in therapy. I wouldn't talk to a therapist and when Jake never contacted me, I got angry. I lashed out and gave away parts of myself to men who never deserved it.

We pull up to the prison and I ask Liz to wait in the car. I need to do this alone. I’m brought to a room where other family members are sitting on one side of thick glass, and their felonious loved ones are on the other side with phones to their ears.

I wait for fifteen minutes or so, and they bring Jake in. He’s wearing the standard orange jumpsuit and I can see a black eye as soon as he gets close.

He picks the phone up, “June, you shouldn't be here.”

Not the warm welcome I was expecting, “You left me with too many questions not to be here.”

“I told you it wasn't safe and it’s still not. You need to leave and not come back.”

“Jake, I can’t just let you sit in here. You’re innocent.”

“And so are you. Everything that happened was in self defense. It's not your fault. You need to go live a happy life, but I need you to let me go. I’m going to be in here for a while. You can't wait on me.”

“This isn't fair, Jake. Nothing about this feels okay. Why are you pushing me away when we only just found each other? How is this so easy for you?”

“Are you kidding? Easy for me? Look at where I am, June. Nothing about this is easy, but you know what? I was never good enough for you. You know it and I know it. I’m a selfish prick. I should've stayed away from you then and I should've stayed away from you now, but I couldn’t. You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who I am, but there’s a reason for that. It’s to protect you. Trust me.” He’s pleading with me. His eyes are asking more than his words. They’re asking me to say goodbye. I can see it.

“I can't not see you. You know you’re the only man I ever loved, right? I don't care that you’re here. I’ll visit you as often as I can, and I’ll be waiting for you when you get out.”

“No, June. I won't see you again, if you come here. I don't want you to see me here.”

I'm shaking my head at Jake not understanding how he can be turning me away. “Don't push me away,” I plead.

He sets the phone down and gives me one last hard look. His eyes stare into mine; looking at me like it’s the last time he'll ever see me; like he's taking me in and memorizing me. I’m at a loss. I don't know what I can do or say. A few tears leak out of the corners of my eyes and then he’s gone.

 

Chapter Nine

6 months later

“That’s the last box,” I groan to Liz, setting the pile of returned mail on top and then sealing the cardboard box shut.

“I still can't believe he never responded to one of your letters. I mean if he’d opened one letter, just one, he’d know that you’re about to have his baby.”

I rub my stomach that’s been hiding my feet for the last two months. Apparently, Plan B is only 97 percent effective in the first 24 hours. After that, it’s 85 percent and then so on and so on. So, I have about a month left to go until my son or daughter is born. I finished school and I’m moving in with my mom and dad who bought a house about forty-five minutes east of Cleveland when they retired last year. It’s about as rural as you can get.

They were shocked when I told them I was expecting. Even more shocked when I told them I ran into Jake Daniels, who was passing through town. I told them it was a one night stand and that we didn't exchange numbers. They couldn't believe how careless I was, but ultimately being the good parents they are, they’ve accepted the fact that they’re going to be grandparents.

I wish Jake would respond to one of my letters. He won’t see me either. It makes me angry. If he would get his head out of ass and talk to me, maybe I would understand. I stopped going out there when I started showing. His words from our last face to face sent chills through me. What if I am in danger? I can’t put our baby in harm’s way. So I’ve been writing him in hopes that this month will be the month he finally decides to respond. It’s wearing on me, though.

I start to lift the box and get the death glare from Liz, “Oh no, you don’t. I’ve already seen you carry way too much today and that box is heavy. If you try and lift that one your back is going to be killing you.”

“Fine. It’s all you,” I say throwing my hands up in surrender. Liz helps me pack the last box into my car filling it to the brim and snagging a blanket in the corner of the door when she slams it closed. She has to open it and close it again before walking to her car so she can follow me to my parent’s house. I don't know what I would’ve done without Liz. She’s gone with me to every doctor’s appointment and stood by me while I cried over the loss of Jake.

By the time we make it to Mom and Dad’s house, I have to pee so badly. I swear this baby dances on my bladder. We pull up to their house and I take nothing in, but the single thought racing through my mind; pee.

“Hi, Mom!” I waddle past her as fast as I can. “Love you, but I gotta go,” I say racing to the bathroom.

I finish and Liz is already handing my dad boxes. “Hi Daddy!” I say grabbing a box from him. He leans down to kiss me and asks, “How’s my baby girl doing?”

“I’m okay, Dad,” I stifle a yawn.

“You’re exhausted, why don't you lay down for a bit,” Mom offers throwing her arm around my shoulder.

“There’s so much to do. I’ll help for a bit and then lay down.”

“She’s been like this all day, not wanting to stop for anything,” Liz says tattling on me.

“I can’t help it. I need to feel useful,” I say walking back to the bedroom mom told me I’d be staying in. I open the door and gasp. Tears fill my eyes as I look around the room. A window air conditioner unit hums, blowing cool air into the room. My parents hate forced air. Even in the hot, humid summers they refuse to use air, settling for fans and natural breezes from the Lake. A full-size bed with my favorite quilt, the one my Grandma spent three years making while I was a little girl, is on one side of the room. Next to that is a beautiful white crib with yellow and green giraffes on the bumper. I’m sure if I run my fingers over it, it would be the softest material I’ve ever felt. Across from that next to my bed is a changing table stocked with diapers and neutral clothes. In the corner by the window is a gliding rocking chair with a matching footrest.

“You guys,” I say wiping my eye, “this is amazing. Thank you.”

“Your dad put the crib together and even helped me shop,” Mom says hanging up some clothes in the closet.

“It’s perfect. I love it.” As soon as I say that the baby kicks me hard enough that you can see it’s foot or elbow- I’m not sure which since I can’t keep track of Olympic gymnast-jutting out the side of my stomach. “Dad, feel right here.” I grab Dad's hand and press it against my stomach.

“That’s incredible,” Dad says as the baby does somersaults in my belly.

“I want to feel.” Mom pushes Dad’s hand aside and looks at dad and says, “Our baby’s having a baby.”

“Your baby needs to rest,” Liz says, besides being the best friend in the world Liz has taken to being a tad overprotective.

“Okay, okay. You win. This baby officially just kicked my butt. I think he or she just stuck their foot right into my spine.” I yawn and then with a glance at the soft bed say, “I really do love the room, guys.”

“Rest. We’ll bring everything in and then I’ll wake you before I go,” Liz orders. Liz is taking her dream job in New York City and getting on a flight tomorrow.

I do as I’m ordered and lay down in my new bedroom, with a hand on my belly to calm my tumultuous baby, despite the fact that everyone is moving boxes in and out of my room, I fall asleep.

“Hey honey, it’s time,” Liz’s soothing voice wakes me.

The bed dips next to me as Liz takes a seat. “I wish I didn't have to go yet,” she sighs.

I sit up on the bed and smile at my best friend, who I first thought of as superficial and have learned what a great heart she has. “I’m really going to miss you,” my voice cracks as I try to not choke on the emotion strangling me.

“None of that. I’ll be back when the baby’s born. It’s only a couple hours flight. I’ll be back so often you won't even know I’m gone.”

“Liz, thank you so much for everything. If it wasn’t for you, I don't know how I would’ve gotten through these last few months,” I swipe a tear from under my eye.

“Nonsense, you’re the strongest person I know. You’re brave and strong and you have the best pregnant ass ever. All I did was make you work out at an unhealthy level,” she laughs trying to lighten the mood. Liz has had me at the gym all throughout my pregnancy and I can’t argue with the fact that despite having a bowling ball for a belly, my buns have never looked so good.

I stand up and walk Liz out. My mom and dad hug her and thank her for taking such good care of me and moments later I’m waving goodbye to Liz as her car pulls away.

Over the next several weeks, I settle into a routine with Mom and Dad. They let me sleep in and are understanding of their pregnant over-emotional daughter. I sometimes find myself crying for no other reason than I’m lonely.

Looking out at the lake, I silently let tears fall, oblivious to anything going on around me. Warm hands close around my shoulders. “Oh, June, What’s the matter?” Mom cradles me close.

“It’s nothing, just hormones I guess.” I don't want her to know about the gaping hole in my chest that I’m ignoring.

“I can’t imagine being pregnant without the father. Dad was so sensitive to my every need. He’d rub my back and my feet, and he never got mad when I blew up at him.” I stifle a sob because she’s right it’s so hard. “Oh, honey, no. I didn’t mean to upset you further. You’re going to be just fine, and it’s okay to get a little misty-eyed.”

I hug Mom tight and do my best to reign in my emotions.

“How about we go have some sundaes? Ice cream always makes everything better.”

“You’re right on that one, Mom.” I follow her into the house and wipe my tears. I attempt to grab bowls, but like everything else lately, I can’t seem to do it. Lately it feels like everything is hard to do. I get tired often and the weekly trips to the doctor tell me that the baby is going to be big. My doctor is slightly worried because of my small frame, but she tells me I’m in good hands and that they will be prepared for anything.

On a Tuesday, one week before my due date, I wake with stabbing pains. I call out for my parents and they rush to the bedroom. My parents are frenzied because their house is a good thirty five minutes from the hospital.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” I try to reassure my Dad as he loads my overnight bag into the car. We’re not even out of the driveway when I hear Mom calling Liz.

“Liz is on her way,” Mom tells me like that is what was on my mind.

“Oh, God.” The pain is so fierce I grip the handle on the door. I can't wait for us to get to the hospital.

“I’ll start timing them,” Mom rubs my back trying to calm me.

We make it to the hospital in record time. I’m assuming Dad broke all kinds of laws to get us here so quickly.

They settle me into a room, put a band around my belly to keep track of the baby’s heart beat and monitor my contractions. They are at a steady four minutes apart for far too long. I’m exhausted. I wish I could say that I had some profound thoughts during labor, but really all I’m thinking about is that I hope everything’s alright. I just want my baby to be healthy. I want to do a good job. I’m exhausted and have been in labor for at least twelve hours when Liz makes it here.

“I caught the first flight I could. How are you?”

“How the fuck do you think I am?” I shout as another contraction takes over.

“They wanted to hold off on an epidural until her labor has moved further along,” Mom explains to Liz.

“Screw that! Everything I read said to get it as soon as possible. I don't care what they say, my girl needs an epi stat!” Liz says leaving the room in search of a doctor. It isn’t much longer when the anesthesiologist comes by and has me bend forward so he can stick a needle in my back. The epidural medicine gives me chills that make me shake so hard my head hurts from the constant rattle of my teeth. Labor moves along, but the medicine finally kicks in relieving some of my pain. Liz takes turns with my parents being as supportive as she can.

The doctor checks my cervix and decides after a full twenty-four hours of contractions, it’s finally time to push.

“I got you. You can do this!” Liz holds my hand tightly.

“I can’t. Oh fuck, it hurts!” I scream. I’ve been pushing for so long I have no concept of time. Alarms sound and I panic.

“The baby is in distress. She’s getting stuck. I don't want anything to happen to either of you. We have to do a C-section,” Dr Anderson explains as she starts barking orders for the nursing staff to rush me to an emergency Cesarean Section. My heart plummets and I’m so afraid. My daughter is all I have left. Please, God, don't let anything happen to her.I pray over and over again that my baby will be alright.

An hour later and with much better drugs, Lily Marie Withers is born. She weighs a whopping ten pounds four ounces. My mom and dad both cry when they see her, “She’s perfect,” Mom says rushing into my room with a huge pink balloons.

“She looks just like you did when you were a baby,” Dad coos holding her close. He tickles his beard on her face and she scrunches up her face like it tickles. “She’s dark like you,” he smiles in between soft baby kisses.

I know that can’t be true, though, because everything about her, including her full head of dark hair and her perfectly shaped lips, reminds me of Jake. I can't help but let a few tears leak out of the corners of my eyes. I wish he could share this moment with us. I’m both exhausted and overwhelmed with emotion. Becoming a mom is a moment like no other. One moment you think you have a full life and that your heart understands love. I know that I love Jake, Liz, and my family, but the moment my eyes latched onto the sleepy, half-open eyes of my baby girl, my heart grew. I have so much love now. It’s like there were sleeping parts of my heart that weren’t fully awake until my eyes met hers.

Liz catches on to my tears and kisses my forehead and then whispers into my ear, “She’s perfect, honey.”

Mom, Dad, and Liz fuss over the baby and me. I’m tired the first few days and the three of them take turns helping me with Lily. One of them is right next to me, to grab her from her plastic hospital bassinet and hand her to me when she needs feedings. They help with changings and Liz even goes so far as to convince the nurses to let her help bathe her too.

On the third night in the hospital, I wake to find Liz in the darkened room sitting in the small rocking chair that each room has, patting Lily on her bottom and softly whispers to her, “Your mommy and I have no brothers and sisters, so I’m going to be Aunty Liz, okay? I work in a big city called New York and when you’re older I’ll take you shopping and teach you about boys. Your Mommy and I love you so much, but she has been missing your daddy for a long time, so it’s up to me and you to bring smiles to her, okay? I bet you can handle that, can’t you? Oh yes, you can,” her voice changes as she coos in baby talk. A lump forms in my throat when I think about how long I’ve been holding on to the hurt. It’s not up to Liz or my baby to make me happy. Somehow, I’m going to find a way to move on from Jake. Looking at Liz and my baby, I decide right at this moment that I will not let any of my heartache with Jake taint our beautiful daughter’s life.

I’m in the hospital for five days. The recuperation for the C-section isn’t fun, but I’m really grateful that Liz made me work out so much. I think being in such great shape has helped. None of that really matters though because Lily is the most perfect baby and she makes up for all of the pain.

***

Lily is only a month old and is already wearing three-month clothes. She has the cutest baby fat I’ve ever seen. Her eyes are the same blue-green as her dad’s and I’m sure that they’re going to stay that color. I often find myself thinking of him when Lily is sleeping and I’m alone with my thoughts. It’s the only time I’ll allow my mind to go there. I sometimes get angry at him. He had the opportunity to talk to me. He could’ve filled me in on what was happening and who he was.

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