Abandon (9 page)

I stare at the table for a moment, lost in thoughts of what it will be like to hold a human being that I made in my hands. I can write a song and I can play it until my fingers bleed, but I can’t carry music in my hands. I can’t touch it or smell it. I can’t give it my heart.

I look up and her gaze meets mine. “Move in with me. Let me take care of you.”

Her mouth hangs open at the sound of my words. I reach forward and lift her chin with my finger to close her mouth. She pulls my hand away from her chin and I smile as her mouth drops open again.

“I … I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why? I’m not far from campus and you won’t have to worry about telling your parents about the baby until you’re ready.”

“Not far from campus? You’re at least thirty minutes from UNC. Besides, living with you is not something I would consider a smart decision.”

“I’m not asking you to move in so we can have worry-free sex all day long. I’m asking because you need someone to take care of you now that Claire is moving out.”

“Can you
ever
be serious? Is that really your best attempt at convincing me to move in with you?”

I reach forward and she flinches a little as I take her hand. “You need to stop being so stuck in your head and just learn to go with the flow. We all know you’re smart and independent. We get it. How about you show us you’re willing to let go of your pride and do whatever it takes for your baby?” She looks slightly offended by this, so I add one more bit of information in my attempt to convince her. “I promise to keep my hands to myself … if you do.”

She chews on her bottom lip as she contemplates this proposal. It takes everything in me not to brush her hair aside and kiss those lips. Finally, she smiles. “You like me.”

“What?”

“I see the way you’re looking at me. You don’t just want my golden egg. You want the whole goose. You. Like. Me.”

I chuckle at this comparison. “I’m not sure if you’re referring to the baby or your pussy as a golden egg, but, either way, let’s keep this to ourselves. Yes, I want you. Yes, I …
like
you.”

She shakes her head, but she’s still smiling. “Okay. I’ll move in with you.”

She sighs again, but this time it’s a heavy sigh weighed down by something I’m sure I don’t want to hear. “Molly came home late last night and she was drunk. I’m so worried about her. I tried to talk to her and tell her that we still have a lot of time to be together, but she was so out of it when I put her to bed. I don’t know if she heard anything I said. She’s still sleeping. I want to give her some time to sleep it off before I try to talk to her again.”

“I’ll talk to her,” I offer, gritting my teeth against the sudden urge I have to barge into Molly’s room and shake some sense into her. “It’s my fault she thinks it’s okay to do that. I’ll take care of it.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Don’t worry about it; just sit down,” I say, grabbing her hand as she reaches for a clean towel to dry the dishes she just washed. She purses her lips as I pull her away from the sink so she can sit at the table with me. “I have some news for you.”

“Well, it better be good. I’m not sure how much more bad news a woman in my condition can take.”

“It’s better than good.” I keep a tight grip on her hand as I lean forward on my elbows and look her in the eye. “I’m having a baby.”

Her eyebrows scrunch up and I can’t tell if she’s confused or if she’s going to cry. “Are you pulling my leg, because this is not funny?”

“No, I’m not joking. Are you not happy?”

She swallows hard and then the tears come and she quickly covers her face.

“Grandma, are you okay?”

She nods her head as she reaches for a napkin in the center of the table. She dabs the corners of her eyes and I start to worry that maybe I was wrong. Maybe she doesn’t want me to have a baby. Maybe she thinks I’m not ready.

What the fuck was I thinking? Of course she thinks I’m not ready.

She stops wiping at her face with the napkin, even though her eyes are still tearing. “When?”

I let out a small sigh. “Not for a while. She’s only a few weeks along. But I know you can make it.” My voice sounds garbled as my throat begins to close. “I know you’re gonna be there when it happens.”

She smiles weakly and grabs my hand. “I’m just so scared of leaving you all behind. The thought of leaving behind one more person …”

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I know,” she replies quickly as she leans forward and stares at the surface of the table. “I think the depression is setting in. The doctor said it would come soon and to prepare myself for it, but I don’t even know how to be prepared for this.” She squeezes her eyes shut and I reach forward to grab her hand. “It just hit me so hard. I feel like I don’t know what to do with myself any more. My mind just goes in circles all day and I find myself in a different room of the house, not sure how or why I’m there.”

I’ve never seen Grandma Flo like this. It kills me to think that the last months of her life will be spent worrying about the people she’s leaving behind.

“I’m going to take care of Molly and the baby. Don’t you worry about them.”

“And the girl?”

“Who?”

“I know you never bring girls here any more, but I’d like to meet the girl who’s going to be the mother of my great-grandchild. I’d like to think you’re going to take care of her, too.” She fixes me with a stern look and I can’t help but smile.

“You’ve already met her.” She looks surprised, so I continue before she can question me. “It’s Senia, Claire’s best friend. She came over a few years ago for Molly’s birthday.”

“I don’t remember her.”

“Well, when you meet her again you’ll never forget her.”

She pulls my hand to her chest and hugs it as if it’s a precious gift. “Thank you for coming here to tell me. When are you bringing her over?”

“Actually, she was here last week while you were asleep.” I take a deep breath and brace myself for the inevitable regret that will come from speaking the words I’m about to say. “But she’s moving in with me next weekend. Do you think you might want to come over with Molly?”

“To … to your house?”

I get a sharp pain in my chest at the sight of her uncertainty. I wish I didn’t have to keep my address a secret from Grandma and Molly – they’re just too easily influenced by Elaine. But I can’t keep being so cautious. I need to show Grandma and Moon that I trust them.

“Yeah, to my house. Senia or I will pick you both up next Saturday. Is that okay?”

“Is that okay? Oh, Tristan, that is not just okay. Those are the most beautiful words I’ve heard in months. I can’t wait to see your house. I’m …” She pauses to collect herself. “I’m so proud of you. You know that, don’t you? Everything you’ve done this year. You’ve made me so proud. And now this … You’ve made me the happiest old woman in the world.”

I smile as I realize that this news has done exactly what I wanted it to do. It’s given Grandma a small thread of hope that she can hold onto for the next few months. I only hope that Molly will feel the same way.

I arrive at the pub at 7.15 p.m., just as Link is setting out two frosty pints of beer in front of Chris. As usual, Chris is sitting in the last seat at the end of the bar. When he sees me, he throws me a curt nod. He’s still not over what happened at the pancake house.

“Hey, man,” I mutter as I take a seat next to him. “Is this Pliny?”

“What else would it be?”

We sit in silence for probably five minutes, but it feels like an hour. I don’t know if there’s anything I can say to Chris that would make this situation less awkward. Then he says something that makes me feel even more awful.

“They blew us off. There won’t be an open adoption. We got the letter this morning.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry, man. I don’t know what to say. I thought that telling you about … about Senia was the right thing to do. I fucked up.”

“Why? It’s not like…”

I have a feeling he was about to say,
It’s not like you can keep the pregnancy a secret.
We all know that’s not true. Chris and Claire are living proof of what happens when you hide a pregnancy.

“It doesn’t matter,” Chris continues, then takes a long swig of his beer. “It’s over. Abigail isn’t going to know us. But it’s just the beginning for you two. Don’t do what I did. Don’t fuck it up.”

I stare at the rising bubbles in my glass as I try to absorb these words. “I won’t.”

“How about we just lie here and talk about boys? For old time’s sake.”

She lies down next to me and I hook my arm in hers as we stare at the ceiling and talk about everything we’ve been too busy to talk about for the past few weeks. She gives me all the gritty details about the first night she spent with Chris a couple of weeks ago and I tell her about the brief, yet satisfying, conversation I had with Eddie a few days ago where I told him to “Delete my number from your phone and try to slam your tiny cock in a heavy door.” When the conversation runs thin, we head over to Tristan’s house in Cary –
my
home in Cary.

Chris and Claire don’t hang around because she has too much studying to do, and I don’t know why Chris thinks this is so funny, so we say our goodbyes out on the curved driveway then I head back into the house. I find Tristan upstairs, ripping the tape off my moving boxes.

“Are you going to unpack my things, too?” I ask as I take a seat on the low platform bed in this guest room. Tristan’s house has five bedrooms and eight bathrooms. That’s just ridiculous.

He glances at me over his shoulder as I lie back and his gaze slides over me, pausing a bit too long at my chest. “Which box has the stuff from your goodie drawer?”

I laugh and the sly grin on his face makes my heart stutter. “There’ll be none of that,” I say, grabbing a fluffy white pillow and hugging it to hide my chest. “I need to unpack and study. Get out of here.”

“Don’t you want to shower?”

For a moment, I can’t breathe as I imagine Tristan naked and dripping wet. I shake my head to loosen the image then I stand from the bed. “Actually, yes, I’d love to take a shower.” I grab my make-up case and my handbag where I stuffed a plastic bag containing all my toiletries. “I know where the bathroom is.”

He grabs the back of my T-shirt before I can leave the bedroom. “You can use the shower in the master bath. It’s much bigger.”

I wriggle away from him and step aside so he can lead me to the master bedroom. My pulse is pounding in every part of my body as I follow him down the hallway and into a bedroom so huge I’m certain I could fit six dorm rooms in here. He leads me past the modern furnishings and I discreetly glance inside his walk-in closet. It’s a little messy, but there’s definitely enough room in there for my clothes.