It Was Us (12 page)

TWENTY-EIGHT

WEST

“We're having it,” I whispered.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Griffin whispered back.

Abby and I were back at my place. All of the test results had come back normal and the medical staff assured us that the baby was fine. They said to alert Abby's personal doctor and to watch for anything else out of the ordinary, but in all likelihood, it was a one time occurrence and there was nothing to worry about. We'd gone home and Abby had immediately passed out in my bed, exhausted from the entire morning. I'd shut the door and gone out into the living room, where Griffin was planted on the sofa, digging through a bag of chips.

“Not kidding at all,” I said from my spot in the recliner. “We're having it.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

He waved a hand in the air. “I don't mean it like that. But I thought you were leaning the other direction.”

“I was,” I said. My knee bounced as I talked. “We both were. But then we saw it on the monitor.”

“The baby?”

I nodded. “Yeah. It just...changed the whole picture. I don't know. Just felt different.”

“Guilted you into it?”

I thought for a moment. “No, not really. It just felt different.”

He stuffed a chip in his mouth. “Okay. Dad.”

I gave him the finger but there was a smile on my face as I did it. I leaned back in the recliner. Three hours before, I didn't think I was anywhere near ready to be a dad. Nothing had really changed that idea. But when I heard that heart beat inside of Abby, I immediately realized that it didn't really matter whether I was ready or not. Abby and I had created something that I wasn't willing to get rid of. It wasn't a religious or moral decision. It was a decision about us and our future. And our child.

“So what are you gonna do, then?” Griffin asked, brushing the salt from his hands and dropping the bag of chips on the floor.

“About what?”

Griffin laughed and shook his head. “Your fucking life. School. Money. Job. Baseball. All of that shit.”

“I have no clue,” I said. And it was the truth. I didn't have one single idea of what the hell I was going to do.

“Well, that seems like a great start.”

“We just made the decision.”

He nodded. “I know. But now you've got a shit ton of other decisions to make.”

“Can I take a breath first?”

He chuckled. “Sure. One.”

I shook my head. I knew what he getting at. He was thinking we'd made the decision on impulse, without even thinking about what it meant. Maybe that was true to some degree. But she and I had hashed out a lot of the possibilities before we'd gone to the emergency room. We knew that having a baby would shake up our lives. But so had everything else. Baseball. Her mom's illness. Hell, Abby's decision to upend her life and go to Mesa instead of State had been the start of all of the rash decisions she and I had made over the last couple of years.

Maybe we were just continuing the trend.

TWENTY NINE

ABBY

The doorbell rang and I was pretty sure I vaulted off the couch. I hurried to the front door and pulled it open. West stood on the other side, holding a plate of something wrapped in aluminum foil.

He smiled at me. “Hey, gorgeous.”

I moved out of the threshold and motioned him inside. He wrapped his free arm around my waist and pulled me close, kissing me. He tasted like toothpaste, warm and minty, and I held tight for a second, my arms wrapped around his neck.

“You okay?” he whispered against my cheek.

I nodded. “No.”

He chuckled. “Your head says yes but your mouth says no. Hmm.”

I stole a quick glance down the hallway. My parents were either in the kitchen or their bedroom. “I'm just...nervous.”

He tightened his grip on my waist. “Don't be.”

I pulled away and, grabbing his hand, led him toward my room. He held up the plate in question. “Bring it with,” I told him.

We got to my room and I shut the door and leaned up against the wall.

“Hey,” he said, his voice gentle. He set the plate down on my bed and positioned himself so he was directly in front of me. He touched his thumb and forefinger to my chin, tilting it up so I was looking at him. “It's gonna be okay.”

I nodded again. “I know.”

He was at the house for dinner. I'd asked my parents if he could come and they'd immediately agreed. Probably because we were all tiptoeing around, trying not to think or talk about what the future might hold for Mom. They probably thought it would be a good distraction. The problem was, I'd invited West over so we could tell them, together, about the baby. And that was going to rock their future just as much as the news we were waiting on about my mother.

“I brought caramel brownies,” he said. A grin spread across his face. “Your dad's favorite. Figured I'd need something to bargain with since I knocked up his daughter.”

A reluctant smile formed on my lips. “Pretty sure my virtue is worth more than a plate of chocolate.”

“But this is chocolate heaven. Your dad said so himself.”

I rolled my eyes. “Stop joking.”

He braced his hands against the wall and leaned into me. “Why? We need to joke, Abby. We need to laugh and be okay with this. As much for your parents as for us.”

I knew he was right. I knew I needed to calm down and just roll with it. We'd made our decision. We weren't kids.

“I know,” I said, sighing.

“Wanna do it now, before we eat?” West asked. “I could march out there right now and announce it. Just get it over with.” He lifted his hands off the wall and straightened.

I reached out and gripped his arm. “No.”

“No?”

I shook my head. “After dinner. I think.”

He shot me a look. “We're telling them.”

“I know, I know,” I mumbled. I swallowed a couple of times, my hand drifting to my stomach.

West's expression immediately changed to one of concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “A little queasy. That's all.”
And my boobs hurt
, I wanted to add.
And I couldn't button my shorts this morning.

“You need to lay down? Before we eat?”

“No,” I said. I ran my hand through my hair a couple of times. What I needed to do was get it over with. I was done with living in limbo. West and I had made our decision and we needed to share it with everyone. “No,” I repeated. “I'm good.”

My mom was in the kitchen when we brought the plate of brownies in. Her short hair was covered by a massive purple headband and I had a flashback to her chemo days, when we'd collected scarves in every color to cover her balding head.

She smiled at us. “Hey, guys. Lasagna is almost done. Maybe ten more minutes?”

West breathed deeply. “Smells good.”

She peeked in the oven. “Looks good, too.” She reached for a loaf of French bread sitting on the counter and placed it on a wood cutting board. There was a long, serrated knife next to it and she picked it up and began slicing through it.

I picked up the dish of butter and brought it to her and she looked up briefly, smiling in thanks. My dad strolled in and sidled up to Mom, plucking a piece of bread from the counter.

“Doug.” She swatted his hand. “I'm making garlic bread.”

“And I'm hungry right now,” he said, tearing off a hunk and stuffing it in his mouth. His eyes were full of mischief as he turned his attention to me and West. “You'd think she'd have learned by now.”

“Learned what?” she asked.

He leaned down and kissed her ear. “Everything. Everything about me.”

She jerked her head away but I saw the smile on her face. “That you get grumpy and unreasonable if you don't eat by six o'clock?”

“Something like that.” Dad pulled another knife from the drawer and started slathering the cut pieces of bread with butter.

I watched them work. Even though I'd seen them do things like this a thousand times, it never failed to amaze me how perfectly suited they were to each other. The way they were in the office, doing their jobs, and the way they were at home; the way they parented me and Annika and the way they simply lived their lives. Together. Always together. Seamless.

I wanted that for me and West. For our family. The family we had already inadvertently started.

“I'm pregnant,” I blurted out.

Three heads swiveled in my direction. My parents both held knives suspended in mid-air, their eyes wide, their mouths open. West's expression was unreadable but he, too, looked frozen in place.

“What?” my mom asked, shaking her head as if she were trying to clear something out of her ears.

I felt the heat rush to my face. “I'm...I'm pregnant.”

The knife my dad was holding clattered to the counter. “What?” he echoed.

West stepped forward, toward me. He grabbed my hand and held it firmly, giving me a gentle squeeze, encouraging me to continue.

“It was an accident,” I said in a rush of words. “When I was sick. And...and now I'm pregnant. I'm going to have a baby.”

“We,” West said, looking at me first, then my parents. “We are going to have a baby.”

My mom set her knife down and leaned up against the counter. Her face had lost some of its color. “I think
we
need to sit down.”

My dad's mouth was open, ready to speak, his brow furrowed, but he glanced at Mom and his expression turned to one of concern. He laid his hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. Fine.” She closed her eyes briefly. “But we should sit down.”

My dad reached for her hand and they headed toward the living room, sitting down on one of the couches. West and I followed suit.

“I thought you were gonna wait,” he whispered to me.

“I thought I was, too.”

He shook his head and sighed.

I sat on the edge of the other couch and West took a spot next to me.

“Tell us,” my dad commanded.

“I...” my voice faltered.

“There's not much else to say,” West said. He wasn't holding my hand but his leg was pressed against mine, providing physical comfort. “Abby's pregnant. About ten weeks.”

If my dad heard, he didn't indicate it. His eyes were on me. “You've been to the doctor?”

I nodded. “Yesterday. I went to the emergency room.”

My mom's eyebrows shot up. “The emergency room?”

“There was some bleeding,” I told her. “I didn't know what was going on. West insisted I go.”

“And...everything was okay?” she asked. Her fingers were clasped neatly in her hands but her knuckles were white, the veins bulging.

“Yes. They did an ultrasound. Everything looked fine. Just some fluke thing, I guess.”

My dad sat there in stony silence, his facial features taut.

“And you've thought this through?” my mom asked carefully.

I glanced at West. His leg pressed harder into mine.

I looked back to my mom. “Yes,” I said. “A lot, actually.”

Finally, my dad spoke. “What about school?” He turned to look at West. “And baseball?”

“We're working things out,” West responded. “One thing at a time.”

“A baby isn't something you work out,” my dad said. A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Life as you know it is over. Not just now. For the next twenty years.”

“I'm aware of that, sir.” West's tone was calm, neutral, but I saw something flash in his eyes. “We're both aware of that. It wasn't an easy decision. And we wouldn't have made it if we didn't understand the things that come with it.”

“Did you consider your...options?” my mom asked.

“Every single one of them,” I told her. “I promise. This is not something we just decided. We've gone back and forth.” I paused. “But we both came to the same conclusion. We're having the baby.”

She nodded. “Okay. I just wanted to make sure.” She breathed in deeply. “Okay.”

Silence engulfed us. My mom stared at her hands and my dad stared at me, his eyes hard. West reached out and put his hand on my thigh. And I sat there, unsure of what to do, what to say.

The front door opened and five seconds later, my sister was standing in front of us. She lifted her sunglasses off her eyes and surveyed the room.

“Did someone die?” she asked cautiously.

I shook my head. She looked at me and then at my dad and a knowing smile crossed her face. “Ah. You told them the good news.”

My mom looked up. “The what?”

My sister glanced quizzically at me and I nodded. She smiled. “The baby!”

“Not sure we'd classify that as good news,” my dad said and I winced. I could tell he'd been shellshocked by the news but I hadn't expected him to come down so harshly on my decision.

“I think it is,” West said. His fingers dug into my thigh and he gently kneaded my skin. “We both think it is. We'd love to have your support.” He took a deep breath. “But if we don't, well then, we don't. But it isn't going to change what we're doing. What we've decided.”

My mom looked at me again. “Abby, you're sure this is what you want?”

I hesitated. If she'd asked me two days earlier, I would have said no. I would have broken down and cried and told her I had no idea what I was doing, no clue what I wanted. But that was before the trip to the hospital. Before I'd sat in the car with West by my side, wondering if I was about to lose something I didn't even know I wanted. And then, watching the monitor in the hospital room, the little bean that still managed to look human, the heartbeat throbbing loudly as the wand danced across my still-flat belly.

That was then.

But now?

There was nothing I wanted more.