Wrecked (Stories of Serendipity #8): #8 (20 page)

So when Les told me to go to the Gin and listen to y’all play, I was grateful for something to do with people. I was having a great time. I drank too much. My inhibitions were lowered. You told me you were only going to be in Serendipity for two weeks, so I figured I didn’t have anything to lose. If I screwed up, you wouldn’t ever see me again anyways.

I can’t blame the alcohol. I still would have wanted you even if I hadn’t been tipsy that night. I wanted you after I almost hit you on your motorcycle, if I’m honest with myself. That night was wonderful. I’ve never felt that way with a man in my life. You still make me feel like that: like a woman, truly desired and cherished. Something about you makes me lose all rational thought. Birth control never occurred to me, not once that night.

When I found out I was pregnant, I thought you had already gone back to Houston, to your life there. I never dreamed you would want to be a part of a baby’s life up here. I realize now that was a mistake on my part. I never should have taken that choice away from you.

Then, when I found out you were still here, I looked for ways to tell you when the time was perfect. This is my fault again. I just wanted everything to be perfect. Telling you after not seeing you for weeks wasn’t right. Neither was it right in a restaurant full of people. It wasn’t right during The Ring. I kept missing my chances, and the longer I waited, the harder the words were to say.

I don’t want you to feel like you have to marry me because I’m pregnant. But I would like to stay friends for the baby. If not friends, at least not enemies.

I know this letter doesn’t make it all okay. I know I’ve screwed things up between us. I just hope you can find a way to forgive me and be a part of the baby’s life somehow. I always wanted you to be a part of this. I just didn’t know how to tell you.

Love,
Renae

As his fingers slid over the pearly keys, the words of the letter flowed through his mind. He knew most of it already, and her heartfelt apology was welcome, but he just didn’t know what to do with it. It didn’t take away the rage that had dissipated to a dull anger. He didn’t know how to accept it.

A pounding on the shop door downstairs broke into his musical reverie. He didn’t want to answer it, but because of the nature of the shop, he was letting in delivery men and postal workers all day. So he laid down his horn and walked downstairs.

Of course, it was Les. He had formed a friendship with the man, one that had faltered a bit after Les had given him the black eye, but reformed with understanding and a shared crush on Renae. Jason hadn’t told him what had happened with her, and the concern shining in his eyes now told him he’d found out.

“Hey man,” they bumped fists and Les walked over to the counter to boost himself up. “James Taylor… pretty heavy, but it sounds nice on the sax. I had no idea.”

Jason didn’t answer. He just watched his friend to see why he’d come.

“Renae told me.”

“What did she tell you?” He couldn’t stop the sardonic sneer. Of course she’d told him. She’d told everybody else besides Jason, the father.

“That she’s pregnant and you’re pissed.” Les held his hands out in a peace-making gesture, since Jason’s hands had balled into fists. Jason figured he owed Les one. “She didn’t want to tell me, I sort of knew something was wrong and wrangled it out of her. And I was making fun of her poochy belly.”

Anger drained from Jason slowly as it was replaced with the image of Renae’s stomach growing fat with his child. He sat on a stool by the counter, and his head fell into his hands.

“I don’t know what to do now, Les.”

“Well, I know what I’d do. I’ve been watching all my friends settle down and have babies, and it would be like a dream come true for me, man. But she didn’t pick me to knock her up.”

Jason had felt the same way when she’d first told him she was pregnant. His chest had gotten tight, he’d swelled with pride and excitement at the prospect of her having his baby. Then he’d realized she’d kept it from him. Hadn’t trusted him. After everything he’d done to earn her trust, she’d thrown it back in his face.

“Hey, I know this is pretty heavy stuff. People y’all’s age having a baby out of wedlock, when most people are just getting into the settling down part of their lives, you’re going to be changing diapers and working out visitation schedules.” Les paused. “That is, of course, assuming you’re going to be around for the baby.” Something in his voice made Jason look up at his friend to see a steely glint to his eyes and a clenched jaw.

“Of course I’m going to be around for it,” Jason growled out through gritted teeth. He didn’t want visitation schedules. He wanted the whole package. But her letter said she didn’t want marriage.

He looked around the shop. How could he keep a baby here, even if it was just on weekends? The apartment over the shop wasn’t much more than an efficiency. And he would be moving in with his dad soon enough and had to find a bigger place for the two of them. Now it would be the three of them at times, and the thought depressed and overwhelmed him almost to the point of tears. It didn’t feel right.

“Look, man… I don’t know what to tell you, except Renae is going through a rough time right now. I can see it in her eyes. And it’s not the first rough patch she’s been through. She’s tough, she’ll make it alright. But what’s killing me is she thinks she’s got to do this alone. She won’t take help from anyone, and she thinks you don’t want to ever see her again. If that’s the case, then fine. Take the pussy way out. I’m not sure we’d be able to stay friends, ‘cuz I’ve known her longer and wouldn’t be able to not take sides in this one. Hell, I might even propose to her. But you need to let her know what’s up. Go talk to her, man.”

“Are you done?” The thought of Les and Renae married, raising his baby sent a shock of unwelcome anger through his system. He’d been so angry about a lot of things lately, and it was exhausting. Jason wanted nothing more than to go to bed, but he knew he still had to go check on his dad at the hospital, and the letter in the back pocket of his jeans was burning, demanding an answer.

Les’ face fell. “Yeah, man. I’m done.” He slid off the counter and let himself out the door. Jason locked it behind him, went upstairs to put away his sax, grabbed some stuff he needed and left.

When he arrived at Renae’s after checking in on his dad, the nerves in his stomach were turning to nausea. He grabbed his bag, walked up to the door and rang the bell. He listened as footsteps rushed to the door, and it was opened by a younger version of Renae.

The young woman was taller than her mother but had the same reddish brown hair, swept back into a ponytail. Her eyes were a rich mocha brown, but her nose was the same up-turned pixie-shaped button over tiny bow-shaped lips.

“You must be Kelly.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m Jason.”

“Hi! It’s about time I met you. I’ve been dying.” She gushed, openly appraising him as she held out her hand. He wondered what standards she was judging him by, but he let her look, grasping her hand in his and shaking briefly.

She opened the door wider. “Come in. Mom’s in the kitchen. You can put your stuff there.” She pointed to a spot on the floor and Jason dropped his things, following her into the house.

Everything was decorated for Christmas. There was a tree covered in lights and tinsel in almost every room he passed to the kitchen. A small train set sat on top of white cotton batting on the coffee table. The fireplace mantle held an enormous nativity scene. Going into the kitchen, he saw a smaller Christmas tree as a centerpiece on the kitchen table, decorated with homemade ornaments for the twelve days of Christmas.

Renae was stirring something in a saucepan on the stove, not having looked up to see who had just come into her kitchen, and Jason used the opportunity to watch her. Kelly had led him in and disappeared, apparently realizing they needed to talk.

Renae was lost in her own world, staring into the pan, watching it intently as she stirred. He realized she was making candy, as she lifted the spoon to check the thickness before continuing to stir. Her hair was pulled back into a messy pile on top of her head and held a light dusting of flour. She was wearing jeans and a Christmas sweatshirt under her apron, a frilly green and red affair with ruffles and polka dots. He couldn’t be sure, but it looked like her middle was a bit thicker than the last time he’d seen her. Her bare feet showed off toenails painted a lovely shade of lavender. He caught himself staring at her toes and didn’t notice when she finally turned and saw him.

“You got my letter, then?” Her voice sounded thick, and choked, bringing his eyes to her face instantly.

She looked like she hadn’t slept in years. Her skin was pasty, and the dark circles under her eyes contrasted deeply with her pale skin tone. He nodded, his gut wrenching painfully, but didn’t say anything.

She turned back to her stirring. “If you’d just give me a minute and let me finish this, we can talk if you want. It’s going to be toffee, but I have to keep stirring it, or it’ll burn.” Her voice seemed to have returned to normal, talking about cooking, and he longed for the days when he didn’t feel betrayed by her. When they could talk about cooking and laugh about it again.

He watched as she continued to stir, checking the temperature on a candy thermometer clipped to the side of the pan. Finally, she nodded to herself, picked up the sauce pan and poured it over a cookie sheet already coated with melted chocolate. Dumping the pan in a sink full of hot, soapy water, she wiped out the inside, rinsed it, and set it on a drying rack next to her. He noticed the liquor was gone from the counter top and thought to himself, “good.” It reminded him why he was here. He studied her as she sprinkled sliced almonds and sea salt over the toffee, his mouth watering in spite of himself. Wait. She wasn’t going to eat all that, was she? He’d read horrible things about gestational diabetes.

When she sat at the table next to him, he pushed back a little, not wanting to fall under the spell of her scent.

Wanting the inevitable confrontation over with, he started. “I’m still pissed at you.”

“I figured,” she sighed, apparently dreading it as much as he was.

“But I don’t want to miss any more of this than I already have. I’m really busy with the shop and Dad and don’t have much time to come by and visit. So I’m just going to stay here over the holidays. Maybe even until Dad’s finished with his rehab after surgery.”

She’d been looking at her feet, but when he said that, her eyes snapped to his, and he was pleased to see they finally looked alive.

“What?”

“I’m staying here with you. I’ll help you. Make sure you’re eating right, doing what you need to be doing to take care of the baby. I’ve missed too much already, thank you very much. I want to be around when the baby starts moving. I want to see it grow inside you.” He waited for her response, and she didn’t disappoint.

Her hand came down on the table so hard that the tree shook and ornaments waggled precariously. “You haven’t spoken to me in three weeks, and all of a sudden you show up and tell me you’re moving in? I don’t think so. I have a daughter here, in case you haven’t noticed. I’m not about to let her think we’re shacking up.” Renae’s voice was a hiss that would have burned him alive if he hadn’t been so determined.

“I’ll explain to her that since her mother, the mother of my child hasn’t clued me in on the details of her pregnancy, I’m taking the bull by the horns. In fact, I’ll tell her now. Kelly!” Righteous indignation flowed through his veins.

Mini-Renae appeared, looking excited for some reason, and stood by the table waiting.

Jason forced a calm into his voice he didn’t feel. “I’ll be staying here for a while, to make sure your mother and the baby are taken care of. We won’t be sleeping together, but I’ll be around, cooking, helping her take care of the house, making sure she doesn’t over do anything. I’m not telling you this to make sure it’s alright with you, although I hope it is. I just want you to understand that I’m taking care of your mother and my baby. Nothing more.”

To his utter surprise, she beamed at him, clapping her hands together. “That is awesome! She hasn’t been sleeping, and I was worried about what would happen when I went back to school. I’ve got to leave after Christmas for my job and didn’t want her to do too much. As it is…” Her voice trailed off as she motioned around the kitchen at the piles of cookies and bread on the countertops.

“I can take care of myself!” Renae seemed to hitting a point of no return, but Jason didn’t care. Before he could even open his mouth to form a sarcastic retort, Kelly had her arms around her mother.

“Of course you can, Mom. You can take care of yourself, and me, and your own mother, and Dalton’s family, and all your friends… Won’t it be nice to have some help for a change?”

Jason was impressed with the role-reversal he was witnessing. Renae seemed to shrink in her daughter’s arms, and the rare glimpse of weakness in her touched something deep within him.

Defeated, Renae’s shoulders slumped. “I just wanted a normal Christmas before the baby came. After this it’ll be different.”