If I Break (27 page)

“About two months ago. Well, three weeks ago I had it, but it only lasted for a day.”

“You told the nurse that you took an at-home pregnancy test, and it was positive?” she asks, scribbling on the chart.

“Yes, but I hear that it can be wrong, right? At-home kits aren’t a hundred percent.”

“No, at-home kits are not one hundred percent, but they are pretty close. Most are up to 97 percent accurate.”

“But there’s still a three percent chance that I’m not,” I say quickly.

She finally stops writing and her eyes connect with mine. “Mrs. Scott, I am going to be honest with you. You seem like right now you need honesty and not vague reassurances from me,” she starts.

“Brooks. I’d prefer if you called me Brooks,” I say quietly. I guess I’ll have to get used to it.

“Miss Brooks, an at-home pregnancy test or the pregnancy test I would give you measures for a hormone called human chorionic gonadotropin, the pregnancy hormone. An at-home test uses urine to detect the level in your body. I gave you a qualitative hcg blood test which would measure the exact amount of the hormone in your bloodstream. This test is extremely accurate—it could detect the hormone as soon as a week after ovulation. Pregnancy kit tests are least accurate if you had taken the test a week after you ovulated, which could possibly have given you false results taking it to early. But from your statements in my professional opinion, if you’ve missed your period by six weeks, the test is most likely accurate. From the symptoms you’ve described such as extreme fatigue, morning sickness, there is a strong possibility…” her voice starts to drown out after a while. I know that I’m pregnant because when things are bad they only get worse.

***

When I open the door, I see Angela talking on the phone.

“I’ve got to go,” she says quickly and hangs up. I close the door and lean against it.

“Lauren, I was so worried about you. I didn’t know where to look. Your aunt keeps calling, and I don’t know what to say. You’ve been gone five hours,” she scolds me in a worried tone.

“Eight weeks,” I say simply

“What?” her tone softens.

“I’m eight weeks pregnant,” I say, feeling completely numb. I slide down the door and cover my face. Out of all the tears I cried, I’m surprised I’m not dehydrated. I think I’ve literally cried myself out. She doesn’t say anything, but sits beside me and takes my hand.

“I went to the doctor’s office down the street. After I found out, I walked around for hours, just trying to clear my head, but it helped,” I say, clearing my throat.

“I can’t cry anymore or feel sorry for myself. I’m having a baby, and I’m going to have to deal with it. There are so many people who have had children in worse situations than me, so I can’t just cry about it anymore. But I am so angry because I shouldn’t have to do this alone. I can do this by myself, but I shouldn’t have to!”

“You’re not going to. You’ll have me, your aunt…”

“He should be here! I need
him
, and he’s not going to be. I remember the night, this happened. When I was going to leave him, and he carried me upstairs like I was a six-year-old with a temper tantrum and locked me in my room… and that night he came home and brought me a dozen pink roses. I was so angry with him, and I still gave in. I still wanted him. He made love to me the entire night and left the next afternoon.” I stand up. “That was the night he did this to me. And just like then, he leaves!”

Angela gets up and walks toward me. “It may seem bad now, but when you hold that little baby in your arms, and you see its eyes and its smile, all of this shit you’re going through now will be worth it.”

I hug her. She has been such a good friend to me, through all of my crazy mood swings and anti-social behavior, she’s never complained and always listened without asking.

I’m going to get through this. I’m going to have to be a better woman, more for myself and now for this baby that’s growing inside of me. Things aren’t just about me anymore. I can’t cry for Cal another day. My life can’t be wrapped around him or his memory. I guess in some way, he’s given me a piece of him, and now I have someone else to love.

December 7th 2010

Next week, I 'll be standing in a church in front of over five hundred guests, most of whom Cal or I don't really care about, even Michael was invited. I don’t hate him so much anymore though. A thousand pictures will be taken as we say our vows for the second time. I’ll be wearing a nine-thousand-dollar
Vera Wang
gown and a diamond necklace that costs even more than that and it will be followed by a grand reception. But that’s not
my
wedding; well, supposedly it is, but I call it “The Crest Field Affair.”

Cal and I have joked about it. Dexter says it will be good for the company’s image—whatever that is. Cal wanted to blow it off, but Helen begged me. I never thought she’d beg a day in her life, and, I guess, what girl wouldn’t want two weddings?

But today, on this perfect 70-degree day on a private beach in Rio, wearing a little white sundress, pearls and a yellow flower in my hair, with my toes in the beautiful white sand, I commit to spending the rest of my life with the man who swept me off my feet and captured my heart. My tears flow freely as I hold his hand. He’s in white slacks and a matching short-sleeved button up with a yellow handkerchief in his pocket. He’s displaying a boyish grin but I know the naughtiness that hides behind it. He squeezes my hand as the pastor—whose English is a little less than perfect—has given him the go ahead to say his vows. He takes a deep breath and Dexter pats him on the shoulder. He lets out a small laugh, but then his expression turns serious.

“Lauren, you know that I love you more than anything, more than anyone,” he says, his voice steady and I hear Raven sigh a few feet away from me. I giggle, but the weight of his words cause a warm rush to come over me.

“You’ve made me a better man,” he says a little more softly and pauses. I wipe away the tears from my eyes and resist the urge to hug him tightly. He steps closer towards me and kisses away the tears on my cheeks. More swooning comes from the women in our audience, which includes Angela, Raven, Hillary, and Helen.

“I’ve never wanted anything more than our marriage, Lauren. You’re the one thing that belongs to me. The only pure thing I have is us. I used to have a different reason for being. It came from a dark place. My motivation changed when I fell in love with you. You’re my strength and my weakness. You’re the reason I fight to be here,” he says my face now in his hands and I can’t resist the urge to kiss him at that moment. I give in, nearly jumping into his arms. His lips welcome mine and I rest in his embrace.

“I love you so much, Cal,” I say quietly when our lips have separated and only he can hear me.

I’m sure the pastor is shooting me a disapproving look for jumping the gun on the kiss, but I don’t care. Nothing has been traditional about us before so why start now? As long as this ends with me being proclaimed Mrs. Lauren Scott, nothing else will matter—not his secrets, not his past. Every negative echo that rested in my brain has melted away; it just doesn’t matter. Our love will overcome whatever issues we’ll face. I’m sure they will come up, every marriage has them, but when I see his gleaming gray eyes that sometimes reflect warm green shades behind them; I know we’ll get through whatever life throws our way. He may not be perfect, but I think I just may have found my super sexy, leather jacket-wearing, motorcycle-riding Prince Charming of the 21st century.

March 7th 2013

“Haaapppy biirthday tooo you, haapppy birthday too yooou. Happy birthday, dear Caylen. Haappy biirthdayy too youoooo,” Hillary sings. The rest of us are doubled up, laughing at her dramatic, horrible, over-the-top singing.

“Screw you all. Caylen liked it, didn’t you, honey?” she says, pinching my little girl’s cheeks.

“Smile!” Angela says quickly and a flash almost blinds me of course Caylen immediately begins to cry.

“Angie!” Hilary scolds her.

“What? I’m sorry, baby. I just wanted a picture of your beautiful face,” Angela says, running her hands through Caylen’s jet-black hair.

“It’s okay, she’s sleepy anyway. You old people tired her out,” I joke, cradling her in my arms.

“I’m going to put her to bed.”

“I’ll help you,” Helen says suddenly. She’s been quiet all night, which is unusual for her.

“Meanwhile, I’m going to steal a piece of this delicious-looking cake,” Hillary says quickly.

I walk up the stairs, rubbing Caylen’s back—the only thing that quiets her down when she’s fighting sleep. Helen is quietly following behind me. I open the door to the nursery, which is painted in all pink with white furniture. Helen did a beautiful job decorating and supplying everything in the room herself. I still can’t believe how different the loft looks from before Caylen was born. I look down at my little girl, rubbing her eyes, and my heart melts. It is still amazing to me now much you can love a person so much that didn’t’ exist in your life for most of it. I put her in the crib so I can grab a pair of her pajamas. Helen stands by the crib, keeping her busy while I find my favorite pair.

“She’s grown so much,” Helen says with a sigh.

“Yeah. She has.” I smile, taking off her t-shirt and putting her pajamas on.’

“It seems like just yesterday she was in your stomach,” she teases.

“Yes, kicking her way out,” I giggle. I know why I slept so much in my early months—because I barely got any sleep in the latter months of my pregnancy.

“And tomorrow, she’ll be a year old. She’s so beautiful, Lauren,” Helen says, admiring her again.

“Raven’s taking her to the zoo tomorrow, so she gets double the birthday fun,” I tickle Caylen before I finish putting her clothes on. I’m thankful she’s not putting up a fight like she usually does.

“You’re going to be a good girl and go to sleep for mommy, right?” I ask, seeing her little mouth open for a yawn. When I put her in her crib she reaches out her arms for me. I lay her back down, placing her blanket over her. I hold her hand until her eyes close.

“It’s amazing how much she looks like C– “ she stops her sentence quickly and folds her hands as if she’s a kid that said a bad word.

“You know, you can say his name around me. I’m not going to shrivel up and die if you do,” I joke to lessen the tension in the room.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Helen lies, picking up the stuffed bear Hillary bought Caylen for her birthday.

“Cal. You were going to say she looks just like Cal. You know, the thought has crossed my mind. I’m not blind.” Sharpness is creeping into my voice that I didn’t intend. Helen looks away uncomfortably.

I take a deep breath. “It’s almost been two years. You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me. You can say his name. I won’t die, or start crying.” I understood how weird it was for her to talk about him when it first happened. I remember how angry I was the day after I found out I was pregnant with Caylen. I stormed straight into the mansion demanding to know where Cal was, because if anyone knew, it was Dexter. He proceeded to say how he sympathized with my situation and how he and Helen would be there for me, but he had no idea where Cal was. After three private detectives came up with nothing on Cal, six months pregnant and desperate I begged Dexter one last time to contact Cal for me and he looked me in my face and told me he didn’t know where Cal was. It was the biggest lie he ever told. I didn’t speak to him or Helen again until after Caylen was born.

Helen came to the hospital with dozens of roses, balloons, and teddy bears. She practically out did everyone who gave me something at my baby shower. I couldn’t be mean to her after that. After all, I couldn’t blame her for the bond that Dexter and Cal had. I could be dying and Dexter wouldn’t tell me where Cal was if he asked him not to.

“I’m sorry, I never realized. Well, actually I did, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all that you’re going through, Lauren. If I—”

I cut her off. “Helen, you don’t have to apologize for anything. You’ve been wonderful to me and Caylen. I’m not angry with you. I don’t resent you. I’m not even upset with Dexter anymore. I’ve gotten past that. If he hasn’t told me where Cal is, it has to be because Cal doesn’t want him to. I’ve accepted that now. I can’t blame anyone else for his actions. You tell Dexter that for me, he can come to Caylen’s future birthdays or visit her when he wants. He doesn’t have to worry about me bombarding him with questions or going psycho on him,” I laugh slightly.

Helen smiles. “I’ll tell him that. He’s been dying to see her. I’m glad that you’ve gotten over him,” she says, breathing a sigh of relief.

I look over at her and roll my eyes. “Truthfully, I haven’t. I don’t know if I ever will, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to spend the rest of my life waiting around for him. He gave me the most wonderful gift he ever could have, and I’ll always be thankful for that. But I’ll never forgive him for not being a part of Caylen’s life.” I realize I sound more bitter than I intend to. I haven’t said his name aloud since Caylen was born, or talked to anyone about him. I guess I can’t help but be bitter.

“You have every right to be angry. I knew Cal could be Cal but I never thought he’d do something like this.”

“You aren’t the only one,” I say quietly before kissing Caylen on the cheek. She’s finally drifted off to sleep.

“Night, sweetie,” Helen whispers and walks out. Before I follow her out the door, I switch off the main light and turn the night light on.

Back downstairs, Raven is taking off her coat and trying to hold three gift boxes at the same time. “I hear I missed the birthday girl.”

“Raven, you’re here!” I smile widely, giving her a big hug.

“Yes, you wouldn’t believe the traffic. I was supposed to be here two hours ago,” she says angrily, setting down the gifts.

“Raven, you didn’t,” I scold her. She’s bought Caylen so many things already.

“Of course I did. You didn’t really think I was not going to buy my favorite little girl something for her birthday? But since I’m old fashioned, she won’t be able to open them until her real birthday,” Raven scolds me playfully.