Conditional Offer (20 page)

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Authors: Liz Crowe

BOOK: Conditional Offer
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 "Come in." She held the door open, more than a little freaked out by their appearance.

They sat in painfully awkward silence, hands wrapped around glasses of iced tea. Her gorge kept threatening to rise, but she held it back and listened. "Um, so, what brings you to Ann Arbor?" she asked biting back the urge to ask the "how the hell do you know where I live" half of that question.

Rick leaned on the table, pinning her with a set of very familiar brown eyes.  "Okay, so small talk seems like a waste of time. We came here to tell you one thing. That I love my brother. And he is miserable. And... well," Rick rubbed the back of her neck. The effort to not puke took all her energy, so Suzanne stayed quiet.

Lillian spoke next, putting a cool hand on Suzanne's arm. "He loves you. A lot. He's told me over the years." She grabbed Suzanne's hand, startling her. "I'm so sorry for all you've been through. It's all so very awful." Lillian leaned forward, keeping Suzanne's hand in a death grip. "Don't hurt him. I mean, he's not perfect and god knows a lot of that is our fault, but… he's special, you know?" Suzanne nodded still speechless. "And we were sent here as the ambassadors. To tell you that you need to stop being so stubborn. Love him back."

Suzanne gulped. "That's nice. But I've tried, and I think he's no longer interested in me."

Lillian's gaze narrowed. "Oh, he is. But he's doing his own stubborn dance. You can't give up. He needs you."

Rick leaned back in his chair. "Listen, Suzanne, we spoiled that kid, really. I mean he was like everyone's baby. And while we have ruined him on some levels, I like to think we trained him better – you know – to be a good partner."

"Did you guys come all the way to Michigan to talk to me?" The thought of having such a close-knit family, that so many people cared about you enough to do something like this, made her head a little buzzy.

Suzanne shot to her feet, the whole scene suddenly making her nausea worse. "I'm pregnant," she choked out. Tears ran down her face. Lillian stood, held her close. How she knew this she had no idea but it all made a strange sort of sense now. She'd long ago stopped counting on her body to do its job, to conceive and carry a child. But the thought that she and Craig had overcome it was terrifying, and somehow right.

Then she held Suzanne at arm's length. "I know how significant that is, given your history. Go to him. Tell him. Be a family, but just…"

Suzanne shut her eyes. "I know. Love him. I do. And I will…try."

Rick rose and put an arm around his wife, then took Suzanne's hand. "You won't regret it, Suzanne. He needs you. And he will be a great father."

 

Craig had pulled a double shift and was in zero mood for any human contact. But the sight of Sara standing at the door of his building made him smile. She held him close. He closed his eyes against the memories. And the anger. She let go of him but held his arms, stared hard into his eyes.  "What?" He asked. "I'm tired. Need sleep." But she would not let go of him. "Sara, seriously. What is it? You ok? Jack is--"

She shook her head. "No, no. It's not about me. We wanted to make sure you were aware of the memorial we're having. Next weekend.

Craig took a breath. "Jesus. It's been two years hasn't it?" He ran a hand across his face. Exhaustion permeated his every pore. "Come on up."

They ascended in silence. He headed for a shower, leaving Sara to her own devices. By the time he came back out, she'd made coffee, found some fruit and cheese, and sat reading a magazine at his kitchen table. He leaned on the doorway, rubbing his hair with a towel. "You look good," he said, meaning it. He was one hundred percent over her, he knew. But it felt nice having her in his space again, as a friend.

She looked up at him, a smile spreading across her face.  "Thanks. I'm feeling better." He slumped into the chair across from her, but pushed the steaming cup of coffee away.

"I can't drink another drop of this stuff. Double shift." He shrugged, accepting the grape, then piece of cheese she held to his lips.  "How's Katie? Brandis? Your life? I never see you anymore."

She ticked off her fingers as she spoke. "A smart mouth. A handful, when he's not a bottomless pit. Not too bad. I know."

He laughed at her irreverence, put a hand on her arm. "I'm a wreck, sorry."

"I heard." She patted his check, ate more fruit.

He narrowed his eyes. "You heard what, exactly?"

"Things with Suzanne, on the outs again. What's up with her anyway? You're a great guy."

She had the decency to blush when he nearly fell out his chair laughing. "Jesus," he sputtered. "I guess you'd know. You let me go too, remember?" He stood, downed a huge glass of water, trying not to let his emotions get the best of him. "I gotta get some sleep." He kept his eyes on the sink.

"Want me to talk to her?"

"No. Thanks. It's over. Nothing to salvage." His chest constricted, but he blew out a breath. Let it go. He had to just let it go.

"Well, anyway." She gave a hug from behind, kissed his shoulder and grabbed her keys from the counter. "Can you come? It would be really great. I mean, if you guys can…."

"I'll be there. Probably not with her, but I'll be there."

Chapter Twenty-Eight

 

The Memorial

Suzanne wished she could be anywhere, absolutely anywhere on the planet, but there. Watching the little kids gather around Rob, sending their small boats out onto Lake Michigan, memorializing a man they had all lost, a light the world had lost, just two years before. Craig stood a few feet from her, sipping some water, staring out over the water. He looked thinner. She sighed, sipped her ginger ale, trying to hold down the ever-present nausea. At that second he looked at her, his gaze narrowed, thoughtful. She raised her glass to him in mock salute. He cocked his head seeming to continue his study of her.

When she couldn't take his scrutiny anymore she walked over to Rob and put her hand on his shoulder. He stayed crouched on the lake shore, looked up at her, his eyes bright with tears. She pulled him to his feet and let him fold her into a huge hug, absorbing her sobs. They stood a while. Then she took a breath and he put a hand to her face. "Don't let him go," he whispered. She shuddered. Remembering Blake's last words to her.

Rob kissed her forehead, and then tucked Lila under his other arm. Suzanne saw the swell of the other woman's belly. But instead of her usual quick spike of jealousy or resentment, she felt nothing but happiness for her friend. Rob reached into a cooler and grabbed some bottles of Blake's Brew, handed them out and raised his bottle.

She had never felt more alone. Not after Mitchell's death. Not even when she had forced Blake out of her life. She looked up through a haze of tears into Craig's dark brown eyes. He tugged her close and kissed her forehead as they raised their bottles.

The smell of the extra hoppy brew settled her stomach for a split second. Then, when it hit her palate she had to hold back a gag. Putting a hand over her mouth she stumbled towards the steps. Craig grabbed the bottle from her before she dropped it. "Sorry." She whispered, and ran up the steps and the rest of the group said their good byes.

She held onto the toilet, waited for her poor, overworked stomach to settle. She jumped at the sound of footsteps behind her. "Does he know?" Lila stood, handing her a bottle of water.

Suzanne wiped her lips, splashed water on her face. "Does who know what?" She groaned and closed the toilet lid to take a seat since there was no way she could stay on her feet. Her knees would not hold her. Lila crouched down, put a hand on her knee.

"Craig. Does he know you're pregnant?"

Suzanne frowned at the other woman. She'd blurted that very thing out to Craig's brother and sister-in-law, but the problem was her period had already started to go wonky. She was forty-one. She figured it was perimenopause combined with the damage Mitchell had inflicted on her. Her mother's had hit early. Her head pounded, which brought on another surge of dizziness. She gripped Lila's hand. Stared into the woman's dark eyes. "I can't be."

Lila squeezed her knee and handed the water over. "Here I'll bring you some sliced lemon. It's the only thing that helps me."

Suzanne stared at her departing back. Her brain would not process the possibility. She remembered the last time she and Craig had sex. In the pool. Nearly two months ago. She grabbed the wall, held herself steady. "No." She whispered.

Lila came back and handed Suzanne a sliced lemon. "Smell it. Trust me."

Suzanne stared at it. Put it to her nose, took a long breath, then a sip of water. She felt Lila's eyes on her. She did it again. For the first time in weeks she didn't feel mortally ill. "Oh God. That is amazing."

"Yeah. So, you gonna tell him, or what?"

Her eyes welled, again. She brushed the tears away. She was angry, frustrated at her too little too late, pregnant, in her forties and alone self. "Why? He doesn't want me anymore."

Lila let her sob it out, then looked at her. "Tell him."

"Tell him what?" Suzanne yelped at the sound of Craig's voice. Lila patted her cheek, then walked out. Suzanne stared at him. His dark stare, handsome face, so close. Yet so far from her.

"Nothing." She brushed past him.

But he grabbed her arm. "Talk to me."

The house was empty. She could hear childish laughter, lower adult voices, subdued but yet somehow celebratory, as it should be, now. She sank to the saggy couch. Craig stood quiet. Terror grabbed her heart, made her breathless. The nausea rose again. She gripped her lemon, never more unsure of herself.
A baby. Holy shit.

But she must have waited too long. "Never mind." He walked out and she heard his motorcycle fire up. The squeal of tires signaled something final. She sighed, stood, stared around the empty room and found a picture of Blake on the mantel. Her heart caught in her throat. But she took it down, ran her finger over the image of his eyes, so green and expressive. His laughing face, caught in a candid happy moment, on one side of Lila, Rob on the other. She barely choked back a sob, dropped to the couch and let the sounds of her friends, and the laughter of children lull her into an exhausted sleep.

 

 

She woke with a start, disoriented and dry mouthed. The room was pitch black. But the distinct sound of an unhappy toddler broke the silence. She wandered into the hall and saw him. Brandis, Jack and Sara's near three-year-old son standing in the hall, whimpering, thumb stuck firmly in his mouth. Suzanne knelt down, and he leapt into her arms, nearly knocking her over. "Shh…it's okay." She patted his back, stuck her nose into his neck and sucked in a breath of his little boy scent. He calmed, kept his arms wrapped around her neck and she carried him back to the couch making soothing noises as he hiccupped himself to sleep.  She sat long into the night pondering options and possibilities.

By the time Jack wandered out of his room and pulled a quilt over the two of them, she'd woken, smiled at him then fallen back asleep. The little boy curled himself into her, keeping one arm wrapped tight around her neck. Her dreams were a tangle of babies, and Craig. She woke when Brandis climbed across her and dropped to the floor calling for his mommy. She sat, and did her pilgrimage to the bathroom, losing what few cookies she had, but suddenly, not really minding.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

One Month Later

 

Craig glanced at his watch and grabbed a coat and tie, hoping he wasn't too late. Rob and Lila were getting married. He'd been invited. He knew he was going because she would be there. He'd spent the last month in complete turmoil. Going from work to home to the pool to bed; then repeating the process. Avoiding everyone and everything that would remind him he was human. He felt like a goddamned robot. But it was all he could do. Anything else implied he would allow himself to admit what he suspected about Suzanne.

He pulled up to the small chapel on the University of Michigan campus. Snagging Katie when she dashed by in full fancy wedding sundress playing tag with her brother and cousins, he gave her a huge hug. He noted all the people milling about and checked his watch. He approached Jack and Evan, subconsciously looking around for Suzanne's red-headed presence. His heart pounded. He was sweaty, nervous. Not himself at all. "Hey," he shook Jack's hand. He greeted Evan and one of the daughters who clung to him. Damn place was like a daycare center, so many kids. "Thought I was late." He turned, then nearly choked on his own spit when he saw her, slipping out from a side door of the chapel.

Her face was flushed, her hair blowing around in the light breeze. It lifted the edge of her light blue sundress when she slid her sunglasses down her nose. He ducked out of sight, wanting to observe her from a distance without her seeing him. Jack leaned into his ear nearly making him jump a mile. "There was a time when I had to be told to get the fuck over myself. To get what I wanted." Craig never took his eyes off the woman he loved. "Go, doc. Go to her. Cut the shit and man-the-fuck up. She needs you. More than ever."

He turned, but Jack just nodded towards the red headed woman still standing in the shadow of the chapel. She stepped out onto the grass. His whole body stilled, as if frozen in ice. Her face looked different — fuller, healthier. She put a hand on her stomach. He swallowed hard. Told himself to move, to put one foot in front of the other, forward motion. Towards her. She still hadn't seen him. He moved fast, caught her in his arms and tugged her back into the shadows.

"Hey," she struggled for a second, and then looked up into his eyes. At that moment he knew.

He put a hand on her belly. She was so slight, he already felt the subtle change there. His ears buzzed, but he tried to keep cool. She squirmed, looked away. "Suzanne," he whispered, brushed his lips over hers, relishing everything about her. He tried to come to terms with the reality – an older woman, already medically compromised, carrying a child. His child. He held onto her, forcing terror at her undoubtedly tenuous condition down under a solid layer of longing. She clung to him, went up on her tiptoes, and kissed him before he could say anything else.

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