Shelter You (6 page)

He hurries out the door and into his bedroom, leaving me standing here—wondering how I ended up in the house of a relative stranger in the span of just a few hours. I conclude that avoidance will work best for tonight.

All of my questions and concerns will just have to wait till morning. I feed and change Lily, get her situated in her bassinet, turn down the lights and settle into my new but temporary comfy bed. I shut my eyes and force myself to clear my mind, to let the stress of the day and the last few weeks go if only just for a little while. Before long I fall asleep and have perhaps the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a long time.

A crash of thunder causes my eyes to snap open. I take in the unfamiliar surroundings as confusion hits. I roll onto my side—searching for Lily, and see her bassinet next to my bed. Peeking over, I take in the sight of her sleeping peacefully. I look out the window and remember the events of last night as I watch the rain fall. It all comes rushing back: Logan, coming to my rescue, sweeping me away to his castle like a white knight come to save the damsel in distress. There were no promises made between us, no vows of love or lust, but still there was something there. A sliver of attraction, an invisible pull drawing us together and for now it’s enough. I’m not ready for more and he’s likely not willing to give it but it’s still more than I could have ever hoped for in my situation. So why does my mood not reflect the optimistic thoughts in my head? Why do I feel like the unsteady raindrops that fall against the window, dark and gloomy, unwelcome. It’s because I’m living a lie, because to Logan I’m “Kelly” and Mia is just a girl who I left behind in Florida. She’s someone I left behind the moment a tiny little fist wrapped itself around my fingers; that’s when I ceased to exist. The only problem is, I miss who I used to be, miss my identity and I want to share that with Logan, want him to know the real me. I want to be able to tell him as much of my story as I can, fill in the gaps of my past and hope to god that he’s still willing to stick around after. Even if only as a friend…I think I can live with that.

The decision is made. Being honest with Logan is my only real option. I can’t feel good about accepting his generosity or hospitality any other way. If Lily cooperates with her normal schedule, I have about another hour before she wakes up for a feeding. I leave my bedroom, making my way downstairs in search of Logan. The butterflies in my stomach take flight, alerting me to just how nervous I really am about coming clean about my past and with a cop no less. I give myself a mental pep talk, reminding myself that I’m eighteen now and no one can force me to go back home. I tell myself that I don’t need his approval or acceptance; I’ve made it this far on my own, I’m sure I can keep on going.

When I reach the kitchen I see Logan sitting at a small bistro style table, drinking a cup of coffee. He looks up at me, our eyes lock and my nervousness becomes worse. My senses are heightened. I can tell there’s something wrong.

He looks cold almost devoid of emotion. Maybe he’s changed his mind about me and Lily staying here now that he’s had a chance to sleep on it, a chance to think about what it really means to have us here. Biting the bullet, I decide to make the first move. I walk further into the kitchen and give him a timid smile.

“Good morning,” I say softly.

He closes his eyes and rubs the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his forefinger. He releases with a sigh and looks back up at me. “Good morning, Kelly… I’m sorry, I meant
Mia
.”

The moment he says my real name, my stomach drops. I feel lightheaded, like I might just pass out from the shock of hearing that name coming from his lips. My heart starts to race in my chest, mimicking the sound of the rain drops pelting on the shingles that cover the roof.

“That is your name, isn’t it?
Mia
?” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls something out, it looks like…a passport. “Mia Reynolds of Winter Park, Florida,” he says, tossing it on the table. He shoots daggers in my direction. “I found your birth certificate and license too.”

The shock and fear start to dissipate and my blood quickly begins to boil. Anger takes ahold of me; the fact that he went through my personal belongings makes me feel violated. “How
dare
you go through my things, Logan! You had no right!”

A muscle jumps in his neck and I know that the level of his anger matches mine, but I don’t give a shit. I’m ready for battle, my temper getting the best of me. “You’re a stranger staying in my house. I have every right.”

“I’m here because you wanted me here!” I yell, my voice getting louder with every word. “You insisted, I didn’t ask you to come to my rescue! That was all you.”

He takes several deep breaths. He appears to be walking a fine line between control and complete insanity, but I refuse to back down. “I want you to sit down now and tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“Or what?” I spit out, my voice dripping with defiance.

“Mia, so help me God. Do NOT test me,” he says curtly, the well of his patience running dry.

“Last night you said I wasn’t a criminal, but now you’re treating me like one.”

“No. I’m not treating you like a criminal, I’m treating you like a liar. There’s a big difference.”

“You son of a bitch!” I shout and lunge for my passport on the table simultaneously. He gets to it before I do, and with his free hand he grabs my wrist. “Let go of me and give me my things back. I’m leaving.”

“You’re not going anywhere until I know what’s going on here. Is that little girl upstairs even yours?”

“What! Are you crazy?” I shriek, pulling my arm away. “I can’t believe you’re asking me that. Of course she’s mine.”

“Then why, why are you lying about who you are and where the hell did all of that money come from? I get that you don’t know me that well but I’ve never given you a reason not to trust me.”

His eyes sear through me, the ice that crackled in them before is gone and now reflect his concern.

My anger from moments ago starts to disintegrate and it’s replaced with my earlier remorse for having lied to him. “I didn’t want to lie to you. I didn’t have a choice at first, but after last night…I felt guilty. I knew I couldn’t stay here without being honest with you. I was coming down here to tell you, I swear.”

He says nothing, just looks at me, possibly weighing my words. The silence is deep, consuming, I shouldn’t care but his forgiveness matters to me. “Tell me now.” He finally says.

“I got pregnant in my senior year of high school. I was seventeen years old.” I look at him searching for something only I’m not sure exactly what it is I’m seeking. Comfort, understanding maybe.

“Go on.” His voice is soft, calm yet imploring, urging me to go on with my story.

“When I found out, I was terrified,” I say taking the seat across from him. “I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I knew that I needed to tell my parents. I knew I couldn’t go through with terminating a pregnancy and there was no way I could have hid it from them.”

He nods, the simple gesture telling me that he understands where I’m coming from. His eyes never leave mine, coaxing me to continue.

“They were angry, when I told them, humiliated. They couldn’t believe that I had done this to them, that I had been so reckless. They were concerned about what their friends would think, what the community would say.”

“That must have been hard for you.”

“It was. I was devastated. To think that how they would appear to their friends was more important than their daughter and what she was going through was a hard pill to swallow. I mean, I know I got myself into the situation but I’m still their daughter, right? They told me to keep quiet, made me promise that I wouldn’t tell anyone at school, not even my best friend.”

“What about the father?”

This is the question I don’t want to answer, the one that sends me spiraling into depression every time I think about it, every time I remember him. I answer the question as calmly as I can. “He knew, he… He didn’t want anything to do with it, Logan. He had his whole life ahead of him and didn’t want to get tied down with a baby and I just figured
I
got myself into this mess. Why drag him down too? Why take away his brilliant future because of my fuck up?”

His eyes go wide. He looks angry again and I guess right now anger is better than indifference. “It doesn’t work like that, Mia.”

“Why not?” I challenge. “I’m fine with it. My parents tried to get me to tell them who he was. They grounded me, threatened me, did everything they could think of but I never told. And you can’t force me either, Logan. I won’t do it. It’s my choice—
mine
, and I chose to give him his freedom.”

“Mia…”

“No!”

He places his face in the palms of his hands and scrubs, obviously frustrated with my stubbornness. “Fine. What happened next?” He probes after finally looking up at me.

“They made me keep quiet and hide my pregnancy until I graduated. After that, they kept me a prisoner in the house. They rarely let me leave unless it was to go to the doctor’s appointments and they were with me the entire time.”

“What about your friends? Didn’t they wonder why you just disappeared?”

“My best friend Kelsey left right after graduation. Her family sent her to Europe for the summer as a graduation present. The rest of my friends would call and they’d ask me to go out sure, but it was easy enough to blow them off. After a while they just stopped calling.” I pick up the sugar spoon which lies on the table and start twirling it between my fingers, using it as a conduit to channel all of the nervous energy in my body. “When I was seven months along, my parents sat me down and told me that they’d decided adoption was the best choice for us. That I was too young and irresponsible to care for a child and they were not willing to take on the responsibility of a child after having raised me or explain to people how their only daughter wound up pregnant with a bastard child.”

“Mia,” he says softly, reaching over the table to wipe a stray tear I didn’t even realize I’d shed off of my cheek.

I didn’t think that telling Logan my story would be this difficult, this painful, but I can almost feel the same emotions I felt as I was going through it all. I guess in reality I’m still going through it. Every day with Lily is a new struggle, a hardship that I was not prepared for.

“It’s okay,” I say, lowering my head to look down at my hands—still twiddling with the spoon. “I told them I wanted to keep my baby, that I had spent seven months bonding with the life growing inside of me and I was not willing to hand her over to strangers.”

“How’d they take that?”

“They were furious. I’d never seen them so angry and it scared me. They told me that I didn’t have a choice. This was their decision and it was final, and if I even thought of defying them or embarrassing them I could not live there anymore. They wouldn’t pay for me to go to college, they’d take away my phone and car, and they’d let me fend for myself. I didn’t know what else to do, Logan. I didn’t know my options or my rights. I was a minor and they were my parents so I agreed.”

“That’s understandable.”

I nod my head and wipe away more tears. “I spent the next couple of months mentally preparing myself to give away my baby. I didn’t let myself think about her, talk to her. I barely even looked at my stomach. I knew that detaching myself emotionally and mentally from her was the only way I’d be able to go through with it without going crazy. My parents had taken care of everything, found the adoptive parents and arranged for them to take Lily from the hospital after she was born. They never even let me meet them.”

“What did you do?”

“When I went into labor and was taken to the hospital, I didn’t allow my parents to be in the room with me. It was the only place that I had any say. I did it all alone, and they waited outside with the adoptive parents. After Lily was born I asked to hold her. Legally they couldn’t deny me that, I still had rights you know. So the nurse reluctantly handed her over to me. I looked at her and I knew Logan, I knew that I would die before I let anyone take her away from me. That I would die if someone
did
take her away from me.”

“How did you manage to get away, Mia?”

“The nurse,” I say, looking up at him again. “The one who let me hold Lily. After everyone had left for the night she brought her in to me. She was kind, and I found myself trusting her, telling her my story, telling her how I didn’t want to give Lily away. She didn’t say anything, just sat and listened,” I say through tears. I think of Kelly the nurse and smile. “The morning I was supposed to check out and Lily was to go with her adoptive parents, she came into my room. She had worked it all out: how I would escape, how I would get the money that I had saved away.
My money.
It was my only shot at getting away so I went along with it. I felt bad for the adoptive parents…I really did but legally I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m her mother. I hadn’t signed the papers yet and even if I did, I still had time to change my mind. My biggest problem was that I was only seventeen and if my parents found me they could force me to come home and if that happened there was no telling what would happen to Lily. I couldn’t trust that they’d just let me keep her. You have to understand I did the only thing I could think of to keep my daughter.” I cry. “I wanted to tell you that night, when I met you at the hospital but I couldn’t risk it. Not when I was so close to turning eighteen, being legal. I knew that it was the only way that no one could force me into anything.”