It Was Us (16 page)

FORTY

WEST

“You didn't make me choose.”

Abby tugged at the dress of her skirt, stretching the fabric so it almost covered her knees. She released it and it sprang right back to the middle of her thighs.

“I sort of did,” she said. “I mean, if it hadn't been for the baby, you'd still be playing.”

“You don't know that.”

She stared at me, disbelieving. “What the hell are you talking about? You would have already gone to Massachusetts for the summer.”

“You don't know that,” I repeated.

“Please.” She rolled her eyes. “Your whole life since I've known you has been about baseball. The box of stuff you showed me from high school. The scholarship your dad lost.”

A muscle in my jaw twitched but I said nothing.

“Going to Arizona and trying out. Getting the scholarship there and then going to USD instead. On a full baseball scholarship.”

“Jesus.” I shook my head, irritated. “How many fucking times do we have to have this conversation?”

“We haven't had this conversation. Not ever.” I started to protest but she cut me off, raising her hand to silence me. “We've talked about your dreams and how
this
is your new one.” Her voice held a note of disbelief, like she was repeating something totally asinine, something she didn't believe a word of. “And I get it. I get that you love me and you love this baby and you're happy with this decision. But we haven't talked about you missing baseball. And excuse me if I feel a little fucking guilty for knowing that you've given up something that has pretty much been the most important thing for your entire life, but I do. And I probably always will.”

I waited.

“So, when I see kids playing baseball and I watch you watching them, I get a little upset. Pissed with myself. Because I know what you're giving up for me. For us. And I haven't had to give up shit.”

My mouth dropped open. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You heard me.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “How about sharing your body for the last six months? That's not giving something up?” I tried to keep my voice low but it was a losing battle. “How about not transferring to State? How about the next eighteen years of your life?”

She gaped at me. “That's not giving something up. At least not for me.” There were tears in her eyes. “Is that how you look at this? That you're losing the next eighteen years to being a parent? Because, for me, it feels like a gift. An unexpected one, one that I wasn't necessarily looking for, but a gift. Not a curse. Not a punishment.”

She was twisting all of my words and I was so pissed I could barely see straight. This was not how I'd planned for the night to go. Not by a long shot.

I pushed off the blanket and grabbed the backpack sitting in the sand. I ripped the zipper open and plunged my hand inside, fumbling around for the small box I'd put in there. My fingers closed around it and I pulled it out. Wordlessly, I tossed it into Abby's lap.

She looked from it to me, a look of confusion on her face.

“What is this?”

“Open it,” I practically barked.

She reached for it with shaking hands.

“You think I see this as a punishment? As some sort of curse?” I kept my eyes locked on her, my mouth a thin, tight line. “Because if I did, if this was something I was dreading, something I didn't want, I'm pretty fucking sure I wouldn't be asking you to marry me right now.”

Her mouth formed a perfect O, her eyes widened in surprise.

I dropped to my knees and reached for her hands, gripping them tight. “Abby Sellers. I want to marry you and you fucking better not say no.”

FORTY ONE

ABBY

“So, clearly, you did not say no.”

I smiled into the phone. I'd just relayed the previous evening's events to my best friend. “Uh. No.”

Tana laughed. “No you didn't say no or no you did?”

I stifled a laugh of my own. “I said yes, you dipshit. I said yes.”

“I knew it,” she practically squealed. “Remember when we were talking about getting married? I knew it was gonna happen before the baby was born.”

I was sitting in my office, leaning back in my chair. “Who said anything about that?”

“What do you mean?”

I sat up straight and the baby protested at my sudden movement, a soft jab in my side. “I mean, we're engaged. We haven't set a date or anything.”

And we hadn't. I'd taken one look at the exquisite diamond ring nestled in the small jewelry box West had given me and promptly burst into tears. Tears that were remorseful and happy and everything in between. We'd stayed there, wrapped up in each other's arms and then, later, we'd gone to my house and shared the news with my parents. My mom had hugged and kissed us both and my dad's stoicism cracked just a little as he shook West's hand and congratulated the both of us.

“You can't wait,” my best friend said.

“Watch me.”

She huffed into the phone. “No. Look, if you're getting married you just need to go ahead and do it. Because there won't be time after the baby comes. You'll be tired and busier than shit and pretty soon, the kid will be heading out the door to kindergarten and you and West will look at each other and realize you never did the deed.”

“Could you be any more dramatic?”

“I'm serious,” she said. “Life will get in the way. You need to do it now.”

“You're high if you think I can plan a wedding before the baby comes.”

“What's there to plan?”

“Uh...everything. Where to have it, what to wear, who to invite.”

“If I was there I would hit you,” she said. “Not in the stomach. Probably in the face.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“I'm serious. I know you, Abs. You're not a big wedding person. Get a dress, invite me and Griffin and do it on the beach. Boom. Done.”

“Whatever, Tana.” I picked up a file on my desk and adjusted the receiver next to my ear. “Look, I gotta get to work. I just wanted to share the news.”

“Right,” she said, her tone resigned. “Since I'm not there in person to hear it.”

“I know.” My knee started to bounce a little. “Sucks not having you here.”

She sighed. “Sucks not being there. I fucking hate summer school.”

“But it's going okay? You're passing your classes?”

“Yeah.” She sighed again. “Barely.”

I frowned. “Barely? I thought you needed a certain GPA to keep your scholarship.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said. “We were talking about you. Not me. The next time we talk, you better have a date set.”

“I do. Due date is December 29. You already know that.”

“Not what I'm talking about,” she warned. “Two days. I'm giving you two days.” She hung up.

I shook my head and hung up the phone. My best friend was a piece of work.

I grabbed the folder off my desk and walked it over to the copy machine in my parents' office. Their desks were empty. They were at a lunch caravan with other agents in the area, hopping from house to house to see some homes that had been on the market longer than normal. I knew our office had included a home on Mt. Soledad that was a tough sell because of its size: great location but a two bedroom on a small lot with no room for expansion made it less than desirable for buyers shopping that locale.

I pulled some papers from the file and stuck them into the copy machine. I waited as the machine whirred to life, spitting out collated sheets in the trays below, and I thought about what Tana had said.

I knew I wasn't going to be a big wedding person. In all the times I'd envisioned my wedding to West, I'd always pictured something simple. A ceremony on the beach, my parents and a few friends in attendance, a nice dinner afterward. I didn't like attention and I didn't want to spend a ton of money, especially with my parents battling the seemingly insurmountable medical bills from my mother's illness.

But I'd never pictured myself in a tent for a wedding dress. And that's what I would need if I got married right then.

FORTY TWO

WEST

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” Abby said. She was sitting next to me on the couch. “I'm watching the movie.”

I reached for the remote and hit the pause button. “Bullshit. You haven't flinched once.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We're watching a movie about zombies. You hate zombies.”

She smiled. “No, I don't. I hate thinking about what zombies eat.”

“A dozen people have died in the last five minutes and you haven't made a single sound.” I reached for her hand. “Give me a little credit.”

“Whatever.”

I let my fingers trail along her palm before finding and playing with the ring that now sat on her finger. I twisted it gently. “I love this.”

She glanced down at our hands. “Me, too.”

“No. I mean, I
love
it.” I looked at her. “I love knowing this is from me. Love knowing what it means. What it represents.”

“Me, too.” She returned her gaze to the television for a few seconds before bringing it back to me. “Do you think we should get married now?”

“What?”

She shifted on the couch so she was fully facing me. “Should we get married now or should we wait until after the baby comes?”

“I don't care.”

She frowned. “You don't care?”

I shook my head. “You know what I mean. I want to marry you. I don't care when. If you wanna get married now, let's do it. If you wanna wait, we'll wait.”

A long sigh escaped from her and she pressed herself closer to me. “I don't know what I want.”

“Tell me what you're thinking.”

“I can see both,” she said. “My gut is to wait. We've got a ton of shit to figure out before the baby comes and throwing a wedding into the mix doesn't seem like the best idea, you know?”

I nodded. “Right. I get that.”

“But part of me doesn't want to wait.” She smiled at me. “Part of me wants to be married to you right this second.”

I picked up my phone from the arm rest and checked the time. “Pretty sure the courthouse is already closed. But we could go first thing in the morning...”

She swatted my arm. “Smart ass. You know what I mean.”

I grinned. “I know.” I leaned forward and grabbed the beer sitting on the coffee table, taking a quick swig. “I'm cool either way. You just let me know what you wanna do, when. I'll be there.”

“You know how good I am at making decisions...” She let her voice trail off.

I feigned a horrified look. “Shit. You're right. We'll never get married.”

She whacked me again. “Oh my God. Stop.”

“You two already fighting? Thought that was supposed to start after the wedding.” Griffin flipped on the living room light and I threw up my hand to shield my eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

He grinned at us. “Grabbing a drink. And waiting for you two to go hole up in your room so I can have the TV.”

He disappeared into the kitchen and I heard the refrigerator open. Thirty seconds later, he was strolling into the living room, twisting the top off a bottle of beer. He lowered himself into the recliner and brought the bottle to his lips, draining half of it in one long swallow.

He belched loudly. “Ahhh.” He looked at me, then at Abby. “So what's up with you two? Besides the fighting and shit.”

“We weren't fighting,” I said.

He pointed his beer at Abby. “She hit you. And you said you were never getting married. Doesn't look good, man.”

I picked up the remote and fired it at his head. He ducked, laughing.

“You are sill getting married, right?” Griffin asked. He took another swig of beer before setting the bottle down on the table. “I need a reason for that best friend of yours to get her ass back down here.”

Abby smiled. “Me, too.”

“When's the big day?”

“No clue,” I said. “Hand me that remote. We're watching a movie.”

Griffin lifted an eyebrow. “The remote you just launched at my head? No fucking chance.”

I stood up and crossed the living room to get it. He stuck out his foot and tried to trip me and I stumbled, grabbing on to the recliner for balance. It tipped backwards and we both fell over, Griffin still in the chair and me landing in his lap.

“Dude,” he said, laughing. “So this is why you don't wanna marry her. I had no idea...”

I punched him in the stomach and he grabbed me around the neck, shoving me off of him. I felt around on the carpet, my hand closing over the remote. I got to my knees and held it up in triumph. “Victory!”

Abby shook her head and rolled her eyes but she was smiling. I plopped back down on the couch next to her.

“You think we should get married now or wait?” Abby wasn't talking to me; she was asking Griffin.

He picked up his beer. “You want my opinion?”

She nodded.

“Now,” he said decisively.

“Really?” she asked. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Why not? What's the point in waiting?” His eyes shifted from Abby to me. “You guys know you're gonna be together. You're having a kid. Why wait?”

“What about insurance?” I asked, looking at Abby. “Do you lose coverage if we get married before the baby's born?”

She shook her head. “No. I can have coverage until I'm 26. Not that it's worth much,” she said, her voice laced with disgust.

I knew what a shitty time they'd had, fighting for benefits for her mom. It was one of the reasons Abby had gone to work at the office, to help keep the cash flow coming in so they could pay the mounting medical bills.

“You guys don't want anything big, right?” Griffin asked. “I mean, with your dad in the slammer and your mom who-knows-where, it's not like you have a lot of schedules to work around.”

I saw Abby flinch at his crude explanation, but he was right. I didn't have a ton of people to invite. Sure, I could send invites to my baseball buddies at USD, could invite the guys I worked with at the Academy. And I knew Abby had people she could extend invitations to—friends at Mesa and people in the real estate world. But, when it came down to it, there were only a few people who really mattered.

“Do something small. Something on the beach.” He grinned and drained the rest of his beer. “Boom. Done.”

Abby narrowed her eyes at him. “Have you been talking to Tana?”

He raised his eyebrows, an innocent expression forming. “Who, me?”

She smiled and shook her head.

“What can I say?” he said, his smile stretching from ear to ear. “Great minds think alike.”