First Chances (21 page)

“Yes.” Mom nodded. “I understood she was grieving, but the woman was insane. Finally, hospital security escorted her and her daughter out, and Howard broke down in tears.” Ugh. Becky Bracks—Lincoln’s awful sister. “My shift was almost over, so I took him downstairs to the cafeteria and bought him coffee and some food. Then we sat there for hours as he spoke about Lincoln, and I listened.”

That sounded like my mom—always the one with the patient ear. I was glad I had inherited that trait from her.

“So that’s how you two reconnected again?” I asked.

“Yes, Howard is a wonderful man,” she said with a smile. “And I know one day you will also have someone wonderful in your life, Eddie.”

I had been so enraptured by her story that I had forgotten about my own troubles for a few minutes. With her words, it all came rushing back. A painful, twisting in my chest as I thought of the world of hurt Hadie had given me.

“I don’t know if that will ever happen.”

Sure, that was a little overdramatic, but it wasn’t like I was even thinking about being with anyone else right now. As much as Hadie had hurt me, she was still the foremost person in my heart, in my mind, in my bones

“I know you will, Eddison,” Mom said, placing a hand on my cheek. “You are so strong. You and I have been through heartbreak before and survived, and I know you will come out of this even stronger than you were before.”

Closing my eyes, I let her words sink in.

I was strong.

I would get through this.

I would fall in love again.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Hadie

Day one.

I was holed up in my bedroom, staring out the window, watching the snow flutter to the ground.

My parents had agreed to let me take a week off school so that I could come to terms with the head spinning news I'd received. I had already taken enough time off school this year, but I had really needed a week to regroup.

I ignored my friends' messages and calls, forced down the meals my mother brought me, and continued to stare out the frosty window in basically a catatonic state.

I thought about the impossibilities of something like this happening to a person. I wondered if there was a support group for people in my situation--people who were pregnant with their dead boyfriend's baby.

I thought a lot about my baby growing up without a father, something I could never imagine. My father was my whole world, my rock, and would do anything for me. My baby would never have that, and it tore my heart to shreds.

I thought about a lot of things on Monday--what kind of a mother I would be, what my friends would think, how the heck I would finish school pregnant, and if I would have to give up going to college.

I thought of all these things, but the thing I thought of most was him. I thought of Eddie Cavallari, the boy I loved.

Even though I thought about Eddie, he didn't call. He didn't message. He didn't come and see me after school. It seemed as though my Dad’s lie to him about Three had worked. I knew it was enough to make him mad, and that was what I wanted. Eddie didn't need to deal with my problems, and this was something beyond him. Heck, it was beyond me, too.

So, I thought about him. I stared at my phone, wondering if he would try to contact me, and when he didn't, I cried myself to sleep. Because even though I was doing what was best for Eddie, it still killed me inside to do it.

I had been a step away from starting something incredible with Eddie, but a single moment had taken it away. And there was nothing I could do but stare out of my damn window.

***

Day two.

Basically nothing had changed, other than the weather. The snow had ceased to fall, leaving a thick, white blanket covering the ground. I considered taking the dogs outside and letting them run through the snow, but by the time I managed to get around to doing it, it was close to four in the afternoon.

My spirits were still incredibly low, and I didn't exactly want to be outside, but I knew I had to get out of my room. I pulled on a thick coat and my winter boots, and headed out to the front yard. Halo and Chance tore through the snow, burying their noses in it and slurping it up.

With a half-smile on my face, I sat down on the front step, wrapping my arms around my body as I watched them, lost in my own world.

A mother. I was going to be a mother. I was going to have a baby. A real, live baby. A baby that would be mine.

What the heck? Was this a nightmare?

I buried my head in my hands, trying to figure out how this could happen to me. Now everything made sense--my mood swings, my nausea, why my clothes didn't fit as well anymore. I had been so consumed by my grief over Lincoln that I hadn't paid any attention to the changes in my body. I had been so blind to what was happening to me that I'd let myself drink and smoke, something I never would have done if I'd known my condition.

Crap. What if something was wrong with the baby because of my stupidity? What if there were complications? All the possible repercussions for my actions were flashing through my mind, scaring the frick out of me.

My thoughts were so distracting that it wasn't until Estella and Mariah were standing right in front of me that I noticed them. I had completely missed Chance and Halo racing over to them, and their ascent up the yard towards me.

"Oh, hi," I said, my stomach dropping as I stood up to meet their serious expressions.

My friends were pissed. And for good reason. Once again, I had ignored them with no explanation. The way I was acting, it was a wonder I still had friends.

Mariah gave me a small smile, but Estella’s face was wrought with a hundred different emotions. She was frozen, still, and I wasn’t sure where this was heading. The last time we had spoken, she had been mad at me for leading Three on. Who knew how pissed she was now.

“Hadie,” Estella whispered, and that’s when she crumbled. She reached out and pulled me into a hug, crying into my shoulder.

I was so surprised by her reaction that it took me a good, few seconds to relax and wrap my arms around her.

“I am so sorry,” she sobbed. “I kept replaying over and over in my head the last thing I’d said to you.” She pulled away from me, staring at me with tear-filled eyes. “What if that was the last thing I ever said to you? I just-I can’t believe that could’ve been it.”

Her words completely blew me away, considering I had expected her to yell at me again for being a bad friend. Before I could respond to her, Mariah began to speak.

“I’ve been so worried about you,” she said, her tone solemn. “When you wouldn’t respond to my messages and phone calls, I contacted your parents. Your mom said you were dealing with a lot right now and that you needed time to yourself, but I had to see you. Don’t forget that Estee and I are different people, Hadie. I’ve made a ton of mistakes in my life and I am never going to judge you for yours.”

She was right, of course. She and Estella were nothing alike, though they had always been great friends in different ways. Boy-crazy Mariah wasn’t going to judge me because I was caught in the middle of two guys. Estella had been mad because she was close to Three—Mariah was not.

“I didn’t even think,” I said, my tone soft. “I should know I can talk to you about anything, Ray.”

“You’re damn right you can!” she said, wrapping me up in a fierce hug. “I love you, Hadie!”

Tears sprung to my eyes as Mariah held me. I had spilled a lot of tears this year, but these ones seemed worth it. To have two friends who loved me was everything. They loved me for who I was, and they would love something that was a part of me, too.

Releasing Mariah, I brushed the tears from my face. Estella pulled a handful of tissues out of her bag and handed them out to us before dabbing at her own face.

“I have to tell you something. It’s something huge.” I began, my voice soft. “While I was at the hospital I found out I was pregnant. With Lincoln’s baby.”

They both froze—Mariah’s eyes grew wide and Estella looked as though she was about to pass out.

“W-what?” Mariah asked, staring at me as though I was playing a practical joke on her.

“Yep, I’m not fat, I’m just pregnant,” I joked, patting my small baby bump.

“Oh, gosh, I need to sit down,” Estella said, dropping down on the front step I’d been sitting on a few moments earlier.

Mariah and I joined her, and I waited for either of them to say something, anything. A heavy silence surrounded us. Estella’s face was pale, whereas Mariah appeared to be in shock.

“That’s why you had your dad lie to Eddie,” Estella finally said as realization hit her. “Eddie told Ashton, and she told us, so I spoke to Three the next day. I know you guys didn’t work anything out.”

I should’ve known Estella would ask Three about what had really happened. “I thought it would be easier than telling him I was having a baby.”

“But will you tell him the truth eventually?” Mariah asked, raising her brows at me. “It’s gonna be a pretty
big
secret to hide.”

“Yes, but when I’m ready. When he’s moved on.”

“He won’t. Not for a long time,” Estella said, giving me a look that meant I should already know this. “Guys like Eddie don’t come around often, and when they do you should hold onto them.”

“I know,” I said with a sigh, wondering how long it would take before both of us were over the other.

“Are you going to tell Lincoln’s dad you’re pregnant?” Estella asked. “He was at the hospital the night you were admitted.”

“Yeah, my dad told me he was,” I paused, still surprised he’d been there. “And, yeah, I guess I should tell him. He is the baby’s grandfather, after all.”

It was strange for me to say that word out loud when it came to Mr. Bracks. I just didn’t know him well enough to even associate him as someone that was connected to my baby now.

“So you knew about Eddie’s mom and Lincoln’s dad?” Mariah asked, wiggling her brows at me.

My mouth dropped open. What? Eddie’s mom and Lincoln’s dad? Was it just a really small world or was poor Eddie never going to be able to escape from my ex-boyfriend’s memory?

“Wait, what! About them
what
?”

“They came to the hospital together the other night and it was pretty obvious they were together.” she said, leaning in closer in case someone might hear. Except there was no one out here except us. “Even Eddie didn’t know until then.”

My mind flashed back to the night Mr. Bracks had brought a date with him to the diner. I’d known the woman had seemed familiar, but I hadn’t been able to recall how I knew her. Now it was obvious, of course—his date was Eddie’s mom.

Wow. That night at the hospital had probably been pretty overwhelming for Eddie; my rejection and then finding out his mom was dating Lincoln’s dad. The last thing he needed to know about was my baby bombshell. I felt more secure in my decision to end things with him—kind of.

“I don’t know how I’m going to get through all of this,” I admitted, trying my hardest not to break down into tears again. “A baby. Crap. It’s going to completely change my life.”

Estella wrapped a slender arm around me, pulling me close. “Don’t worry, Hadie. Aunt Estee and Aunt Ray will be there every step of the way.”

As Mariah squeezed me from the other side, and the three of us sat huddled together, I was beyond grateful that my friends were standing by me.

If only I had Eddie, too.

***

Day Three.

My thoughts and solitude were eating me up alive.

Whenever I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw this slightly imbalanced girl with unruly, purple hair. The minion hair had to go.

That afternoon, I asked Mariah and Estella to come over so they could help me dye it. Estella brought a book along with her:
What to Expect When You’re Expecting
. As usual, practical, thoughtful Estella had given me something I would definitely use.

I placed the book on top of a pile of other books, promising her I would read it front to back.

Since Mariah was the one who was better at doing hair—along with various other girly skills like doing nails and makeup—I let her take the reins. She decided she wanted to keep the ends of my hair purple because she thought it looked cool.

I didn’t argue with her.

Besides, it would be an interesting reminder of the time I had tried and failed to be rebellious.

***

Day Four.

I was still cooped up in my room.

I still hadn’t heard from Eddie, which was exactly what I had wanted, right? Regardless of what I wanted, he was still the primary thought in my mind. It was the first time in a long time that I hadn’t sat around moping about Lincoln. Now I was sitting around moping about Eddie. Which probably wasn’t any better.

Then Lincoln’s words came rushing back to me—well, dream Lincoln, not real Lincoln.

That’s when you know it’s really love. When you can’t go a day without thinking about someone.

But there was nothing I could do. I had made my decision. I had to stand by it. In order to distract myself, I decided to read the baby book Estella had brought over yesterday.

Jumping up from my bed, I walked over to my desk and picked the book up. The book beneath it caught my eye—it was bright pink. It was the copy of
P.S. I Love You
that Eddie had given me weeks ago.

Putting aside the baby book, my hands sought out
P.S. I Love You
. I stared it for a second and then held it to my chest, closing my eyes.

Eddie had chosen this book for me; he had wanted me to read it. Maybe there was something for me to learn among its dusty pages.

So I lay back down on my bed, curling up into a comfortable position, and opened up the book. I began reading, flipping through the pages slowly at first, and then a little faster.

Don't mind all those people who say that you should be back to normal in a month or two. Grieving is all part of helping yourself anyway.

That was when the book connected with me. This book was about me. It was about what I’d been going through. This was what Philip always talked to us about in support group—moving on when we were ready.

This was all Eddie had been trying to do this entire time—help me move on in my own time. And I had pushed him away every chance I’d gotten.

Taking a deep breath, I read on.

I didn’t put the book down until I finished reading it. I was a girl possessed. This book understood me on a level I couldn’t even explain. There was so much about it that I could relate to—the death of someone I loved, struggling to move past it and find my own identity, pushing people away, and trying to reject love when it was right in front of me.