Disarranged (16 page)

“Bitch! You fucking bitch! You were planning this all along! I swear to you – I’ll never forgive you! You ruined everything! Everything! You ruined everything!”

Her shouts become sobs as she gets farther and farther away. Felix nods to me, and I nod to him, knowing it’s a sort of farewell as he follows her, also in handcuffs. Kiera might hate being arrested, but Felix is right where he wants to be – next to her. Maybe now that she’s lost everything, she’ll notice she still has something, someone, right beside her.

Charlie walks up to me, and shakes my hand.

“I wanted to apologize personally for my daughter’s behavior. From what Farlon’s told me, you’ve suffered the brunt of it.”

“It’s…it’s really alright. You don’t have to apologize. I still owe you – you bought my parents’ house and saved their business, so –”

“Nonsense,” he scoffs. “If it weren’t for you, and Farlon’s concern for you, I would’ve never been informed of just how low my daughter had sunk. She paid off all the others, silenced them in horrible ways. But Farlon grew a conscious somehow, and braved her influence, and for that I’m grateful.”

“I’m glad I could help?”

“You did. And I can never repay you. I knew when we spoke while looking at your grandfather’s house that you were something special, Rose. I only see now how special – who else could have faced my daughter’s wrath for so long and lived to tell the tale?”

He laughs a sad laugh, and I reach out and pat his arm.

“I’m sorry.”

“No. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not raising her right. I’m sorry for not seeing what she was capable of sooner. The very lifestyle I worked so hard to give her she ended up using for her own gain, and that’s exactly what I never wanted her to do.”

Charlie looks up. I feel Lee’s arms snake around my waist.

“Hello, Charlie,” Lee says.

“Lee.” Charlie nods. “Your father has done me a great favor today. Send him my regards.”

“I will.”

“And look after Rose, will you? You’ve gotten yourself a very special girl, this time around.” Charlie winks. He turns and leaves after the police officers, his back straight and head held high. He’s a proud man, and I feel so bad. How did someone like Kiera come from someone so upright like him?

Lee hugs me tighter, murmuring in my ear. “That’s it, then.”

“That’s it,” I exhale. “She’s gone. For a while, at least.”

“Can’t say I’m not happy.”

“You liked her.”

“Once. Once, a long, long time ago. Poor Felix. Guy has more dedication than I do, that’s for sure.”

“And a taste for pain,” I add. “That’s all he ever got from her.”

His hands tighten around my stomach. “Did Farlon really call Charlie in?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh. Never thought he’d ever do the right thing again. It’s nice, being proven wrong.”

“He’s not so bad,” I say.

“What did you and him talk about over there for so long?”

“
Pregnant
?” Grace’s screech is so loud I flinch. She comes running over from where she was talking with Morgan, barreling straight at me with a wild look in her eyes. “PREGNANT?”

I can feel Lee go still behind me, his hands dropping as Grace runs in and hugs me around the neck, bouncing up and down.

“I can’t believe it! I can’t believe it, oh my god! Why didn’t you tell me, Lee?” She demands. Then she sees Lee’s face, and I see Lee’s face. It’s frozen in shock, his mouth agape. Grace clears her throat, suddenly realizing what she’s done.

“Oh. Um. Sorry, I didn’t - ”

“It’s okay,” I laugh. I reach up and cradle Lee’s face with my hands, gently. “Hey. You okay?”

He snaps out of it, looking down at me with the tenuous near-terror-near-joy of someone who can’t quite believe something yet.    

“Is…is it true?”

I laugh again, the sound watery this time as tears spring up in my eyes. He’s happy. He’s smiling. I nod wordlessly, and his smile gets so bright I’m nearly blinded. He picks me up by the waist and whirls me around, and I scream and laugh, holding tightly onto his head for support as the world blurs in a perfect circle of color and light.

When he puts me down, he rests his head against mine and murmurs into my ear.

“I love you, Rose Jensen. Don’t you ever fucking forget that.”

“I never did,” I whisper back.

Chapter Nine

Epilogue

I look out the window and see the red horse again.

It’s beautiful – coppery, like the color of a brass penny in a sunset. Its mane and tail are more cinnamon-brown, and its legs and waist are so slender it’s almost breathtaking. Somehow, despite its elegant frame, it manages to tear around the pen at the speed of a cheetah on crack – doing dozens of laps, kicking up its heels and whinnying with the purest, most unbridled kind of happiness. Sugar Sparkle In the Morning. That’s her name. She’s a Thoroughbred, the kind people pay hundreds of thousands of dollars for. She’s particularly rare – her beautiful red coat has garnered a lot of interest in the southern Spain horse circle, or so Farlon’s told me.

I look down and rub my stomach idly. It’s bulging a lot this morning, and every day it feels like I’ve outgrown another shirt. Farlon’s told me a lot in my time here. He and I usually go out in the morning to the stables, and he lets me give each horse a treat of sugar lumps and dried apples. He’s a tender, concerned grandfather – always asking if I’ve eaten enough, or bringing me something cool to drink, or making sure I stay off my feet. I couldn’t have asked for better attention or care.

I stretch my arms and watch the bright golden leaves of the cherry trees slowly fall through the air. The Montenegro Ranch is the most beautiful place I’ve seen, besides that little town in the Alps. The ranch is all rolling hills, golden with the last dregs of late summer. The horses canter in the massive fields – males and females separated, but having fun nonetheless. Farlon’s out with the foals in the far distance, training them to walk for shows with the other stablehands.

I turn to my bed. My room is enormous, made entirely of polished wood and green-ivy patterned blankets and curtains. It’s been my home away from home for months now, but as soon as the baby is born, I’ll be going back to L.A to finish the business degree I’ve taken a break from.

I pick up the package on my bed and read the lettering – From Grace, To Rose. I tear it open eagerly and find a magazine inside, with Grace in a bright red dress on the cover. Ferdinand landed her a cover on a Korean magazine, and she’s never looked better. I smile and flip it open to her photoshoot, and marvel at just how much prettier she’s gotten. I didn’t think it was possible. She and Jen are moving in together back in L.A, and Lee and I are taking over their old apartment. It’s a good compromise, and the thought of having that entire fancy apartment to myself is getting me all excited about things I never thought I’d be – decorating, rearranging. Lee’s been going overboard, buying a bunch of baby stuff for its room like an excited teenage girl at a Claire’s sale. I look at my bedside table, where dozens of baby care books pile high. I wish I could say those were mine, but no. Lee’s been reading them like a maniac, sharing all the important – and sometimes less-than-important – tidbits with me. He’s even been taking notes – a little gray notebook lays open on the bed, his neat handwriting scrawled across half the pages. I sigh and chuckle, shaking my head. Sometimes I think he’s more excited for the baby than I am.

The last I heard from Grace, Kiera was charged with not only possession of illegal drugs, but also attempted manslaughter. Morgan testified on the stand against her, and though I didn’t, Grace did as well. Felix was let off with a much more minor sentence as an accessory to the fact, and he’s spending a few months in jail versus Kiera’s ten years. It’s a harsh sentence, and sometimes I can barely believe it, but with a high-profile socialite family seemingly going down the drain, the media swarmed like flies. The sheer amount of coverage on the news guaranteed that if Kiera was going away, she’d go away hard, and for a while. Part of me feels guilty for it. The other part doesn’t at all.

But it’s not so bad. She’s not in jail, per say. Charlie’s too good of a lawyer for her to really go to jail. She’s in a psychiatric ward, instead, somewhere in northern California where celebrities go. Hopefully, she’ll get the help she needs there. That’s what I pray for anyway, every night.

I do a few stretches and go to my computer. I stare at the calendar just above it as the computer starts up. On the September page, the 29
^th
is circled. That’s my due date, but the doctor gave me a window of anywhere in that week. When I first got the due date I thought it was so far away, but it’s only gotten closer and closer with increasing speed as the days pass. Time is, literally, flying by, and I’m half-excited and half-terrified. I know I’m ready. Or, I think I am. No one can actually be ready to have a small human being to care for, I think. But if I tell myself I’m ready, if I believe that with all my heart, I’ll definitely be fine. I’ll do fine. That’s what Mom says, anyway.

I open my email. Speak of the devil; Mom’s sent me four emails, all with weird cryptic titles like ‘For the one’, and ‘Good center’. She means well – she sends me links to child care websites and different doctors. She’s currently trying to convince me to see a hypnotist when I go into labor, but I’m a little skeptical. She’s still concerned I’m having the baby at home with a midwife – Lee’s aunt, an old Spanish woman who’s been birthing babies in the county for longer than any doctor at the nearby hospital’s been alive. Dad’s fine with it, as he always is – he trusts me and Lee’s judgment. Well, it was my idea to begin with, and Lee fought it every step of the way, but I managed to convince him a home birth was best for us. Peace and quiet. I want our baby to be born in the comfort of home, to feel safe from the second it comes out into the world.

I click the email from the hospital. I still go there for checkups, of course. I read the email quickly, and feel a smile tug at my lips. We haven’t asked what the gender is, because Lee wants it to be a surprise. But I couldn’t help myself – I had to know. I asked the doctor, and he sent ahead the email privately. I can still pretend to be surprised, but at least now I know what names to start considering seriously.

A warm hand wraps around my stomach and squeezes lightly. I jump, giving a little yelp, and behind me Lee laughs. I punch his arm.

“You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry, sorry. Why are you even on this thing? Don’t you know exposure to the Internet in the womb causes infants to become huge nerds later in life?”

I hit him again, and this time he grabs my hand with his own and uses his other to pull my chin up, kissing me. I run my tongue over his, and he moans and backs up quickly.

“No. No, no, no – I’ve got to get to the pool before dark.”

“Please?” I pout. “Just a little?”

He sucks in a breath and leans in, kissing my ear. “As tempting as that proposition is, if I don’t get to the pool soon, Ricardo’s going to have my head. When I get home, I’ll make it up to you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he says, grasping my hand and kissing it, too. “I made casserole – it’s in the oven keeping warm. Eat some when you can.”

“Some? We’ll eat the whole thing.” I pat my belly.

“I know you will,” he laughs and hangs on the doorframe. “That’s why I made two.”

I chuck a pencil at him, but he just laughs louder and ducks away. He’s picked up swimming again – competitively. And while he’s not exactly Olympic material, he’s still really, really good. He’s been talking about coaching the local kids at the pool for a while, now, and I hope he does.

“You’re going to be a good swimmer,” I say, and pat my belly. There’s a tiny kick in response. “C’mon, don’t be like that. The water’s not so scary when you get used to it.”

My phone buzzes. I turn the computer off, and look at the text from Riley. He’s nearly graduated, and I couldn’t be more proud of him. He’s not with his old girlfriend, but he is growing in different ways. He’s more mature, now, if that’s even possible. And now that he knows he’s going to be an uncle, he’s practically as bad as Lee with giving me detailed baby facts and checking up on me constantly.

 Did you know the average infant sleeps a million hours a day?

There aren’t a million hours in a day, Rile.

Did you know a baby’s sense of time is warped? To them every second feels like a million hours.

Now you’re just shitting me.

What gave it away?

I laugh. It’s a long while before he texts again, and I’ve almost fallen asleep on the bed when he does. I look at the phone, groggily.

So? Boy or girl?

I told you, we don’t know yet. We won’t until it’s born.

You’re a terrible ass liar. Always have been. I know you’ve snuck a peek!

I’m not going to give in.

LOL. Fineeee, you don’t have to tell me what it is. But at least tell me what its middle name is.

I look out the window. The middle name is the one thing that’s already set – Morgan saw to that.

Morgan.

Aw, what! That’s a gender neutral name! C’mon, give me a better clue!

How can someone be so sneaky and so impatient at the same time? Can’t you just wait like everyone else?

Are you kidding? I’m gonna be an uncle! It’s an uncle’s duty to make sure their niece and/or nephew’s name doesn’t suck total butt!

I sigh and roll over. The baby gives a little squirm, and I breathe slowly to let it know it know I’m not actually stressed – just amazed. I’m amazed I have so many people who love me, who care about me. The people who were strangers a year ago are now the dearest friends I could ask for. A year ago I would’ve never thought I’d be starting my own family. A year ago I’d never have thought I’d be in love. But I am.