The Friends We Keep (Mischief Bay) (28 page)

It wasn’t having a baby. She would never have that. But it was time with Rob and if she kept busy enough, the pain wasn’t so loud. She also liked children. Being with Morgan’s had been fun. If she avoided babies and reminded herself that healing, like life, was a journey, not a destination, then she would keep moving forward. And one day, she would realize the hole in her heart had filled in just enough to be survivable.

* * *

Gabby told herself she was fine. That the weird shaking feeling was just because she was tired, nothing more. She was still in her first month of work—there was no way she could call in sick.

“No work tonight,” she promised herself as she parked and walked toward the office building. She wouldn’t take anything home. Instead she would make an easy and early evening of it. With Andrew out of town, it would be girls only. Maybe a Disney movie-fest and pizza.

While she was sure the girls would love the idea, she had to admit that the thought of pizza made her stomach flip over a couple of times. She shook off the sensation and went up to the third floor.

She managed to get through a short meeting on upcoming state immigration legislation without groaning out loud. The churning in her stomach didn’t seem to be going away. She circled by the vending machine and got a Sprite, hoping that would settle things down. She had a headache as well, and a general feeling of exhaustion.

“I’m tired, nothing more,” she whispered as she settled into her chair. She couldn’t be sick. With Andrew in Chicago, she was on her own. Everything would be fine. She just needed to focus.

Thirty minutes and a Sprite later, she was starting to feel a bit more perky. She’d finished the last brief she needed for tomorrow, which meant she was officially not behind. A first since taking the job. That evening off was looking more possible by the minute. She was still smiling when her cell phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Schaefer?”

“Yes.”

“It’s Matilda Dennison from the school. Kenzie’s thrown up twice in the last hour. I’m afraid she’s caught a bug. I need you to come get her.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Gabby threw work in her bag, then checked in with her boss before heading out. Luck was on her side along with all green lights and she made it to the school in less than fifteen minutes.

A very pale Kenzie was curled up on a cot in the nurse’s office.

“How are you feeling?” Gabby asked, touching her daughter’s forehead.

“Yucky. I threw up.”

“I heard. Let me get you home.”

Kenzie sat up and Gabby put her arm around the girl. At times like this, her babies seemed so small.

“I’ll need to get Kennedy, as well,” she told the nurse. “If one of them has it, so does the other. It’s just a matter of time.”

Matilda, a kind-looking woman in her late fifties, nodded. “That’s a good plan. We’ve had a few children out sick this week. Stomach flu. I suspect it’s going to get worse before it gets better.” Her gaze narrowed. “How are you feeling?”

Gabby thought about her own woozy stomach. Not that it mattered. She was the mom. Getting the flu wasn’t an option.

“I’m fine,” she said brightly, willing it to be true.

She signed out both girls. The nurse went and collected Kennedy. One look at her other daughter’s pale face told her there was going to be trouble.

“Mommy.” Kennedy started to cry when she saw her. “My head hurts.”

“Okay, sweetie. We’re going home.”

She ushered both girls to her SUV. They climbed in without being prodded. She buckled them into their booster seats and closed the door. Not two seconds later, Kennedy vomited all over herself and the car.

Gabby opened the back door and felt her stomach churn.

“It’s okay,” she told the sobbing girl. “It’s okay.”

Kenzie gagged, then she threw up, as well. The smell filled the car. Gabby thought about the package of wipes in the front seat and the mess that went way beyond that. She swallowed against the bile rising in her own throat.

“It’s five minutes,” she told her daughters after she cleaned them up as best she could. “Hang on and we’ll take care of the rest of this at home.”

Kennedy started screaming. “Mommy, no! Mommy, please. Help me.”

Kenzie joined in. Gabby felt tears fill her eyes. She honestly didn’t know what to do.

“Five minutes,” she repeated and closed the door.

The trip seemed to take forever. Both girls were screaming. Kennedy threw up again, then continued retching. By the time they reached the house, Gabby thought she was going to pass out from the smell.

She parked in the driveway and got out, then opened the door for the girls.

“Straight up to your bathroom, right away,” she said firmly.

She got them inside. Boomer wanted to investigate, but she shooed him away and got the girls stripped down and into the shower. They were both shivering and crying. Boomer was howling at the closed bathroom door and somewhere in the hallway, her cell phone went off.

Gabby started to ignore it, then wondered if it was the high school. Was Makayla sick, too? She glanced at the screen, saw it was Nicole, sent off a prayer asking for forgiveness and hit the Ignore button.

By the time the girls were dried off, they’d stopped crying. Gabby hustled them into one of the beds, figuring it was better to share. She was pretty sure the vomiting wasn’t done and there were only so many sets of sheets. Then she got them Sprite and ice chips and told them she would be right outside in the hall.

She rinsed off clothes and started a load of laundry, then checked the sheets. There were two sets for each twin bed.

“Mommy!”

She got back into the bedroom in time to watch both her daughters throw up. Only Kenzie made it into the trash can Gabby had placed by the bed.

Sometime around noon, Gabby was able to get outside to work on her car. The stench was incredible. She did the best she could to clean everything up. By the time she was done, she was shaking and weak and her own stomach was threatening. She told herself it was the stink, then headed back inside. The first load was done, so she put in the second and added bleach.

The house phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Schaefer? This is the nurse from the high school. I’m afraid your daughter is sick.”

Gabby sank onto the floor. “Okay,” she said weakly. “I’ll be there. It’s just, my other daughters have the flu and...” Her stomach heaved. “Oh, God.” She panicked. She couldn’t get sick. Not yet. Not with everyone down for the count. Andrew. She needed Andrew. Who was a couple of thousand miles away in Chicago. That wouldn’t work. Her mother.

Gabby told the nurse a family member would be there shortly, then dialed the familiar number and prayed for her mom to pick up.

“I was just thinking about you,” Marie said cheerfully. “How are you, Gabby?”

“Not good.” The tears flowed freely. “Mom, I need help.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Everything. The twins have stomach flu. They threw up all over the car and I don’t feel good myself. Now the high school called and Makayla needs to come home. Andrew’s in Chicago and I simply can’t do it myself.”

“I’ll get Makayla, then I’ll be right there. Call Andrew and tell him to get his ass home. I mean it, Gabby. You call him or I will.”

Even as her nausea grew, her tension eased. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll call him right now.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“How are you feeling?” Nicole asked as she held her phone with one hand and pulled the pork chops out of the refrigerator with the other. “It sounds awful.”

“I’m not dead,” Gabby said, her voice still weak. “It was a pretty hideous three days. We were all sick. My mom stayed until Andrew got home, then he took over. I’m so grateful to have help. We wouldn’t have gotten through it otherwise.”

“You sound like you’re not a hundred percent yet.”

“I need another day or so, but at least I can keep food down.”

“Want me to bring something over?”

“We’re good, but I’ll let you know if I need anything from the grocery store.”

“Absolutely. Hang in there.”

“I will.”

They said goodbye and hung up. Nicole shuddered at the thought of everyone in the house being sick. Talk about a nightmare.

“I’m going to get the mail,” she called to Tyler.

He looked up from his coloring book and nodded. “Okay, Mommy.”

It was a Thursday afternoon. Warm, sunny and perfect in every way. She supposed part of her good mood was the residual quivering she felt inside. Even after several days, she was still having delicious flashbacks to her night with Jairus.

He’d been very sweet after the fact. Getting up in plenty of time to be gone before Tyler was awake. But he’d called later. And texted. And sent flowers. Then he’d gone out of his way to say it wasn’t all about the sex. That he really did love her.

Love, she thought as she opened her mailbox and pulled out a couple of bills. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Of course she
liked
Jairus. How could she not? He was a great guy. Funny and sweet and totally great with Tyler. But love terrified her. She’d loved before and look what had happened. She didn’t want to make another mistake.

She walked back to the house, then flipped through the bills. The last business-sized envelope wasn’t from a utility. Instead it was from Eric. That was odd. He’d never mailed her anything before. The child support payments were automatically deposited into her account from his bank. What on earth?

She stepped into the kitchen and started reading the letter. It was only a few paragraphs long. She read to the end, then started over because she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

I’ve thought a lot about what you said. About me being a part of Tyler’s life. You’re right. He needs stability. He needs to know what’s going to happen. What that means is I need to take a step back. To get out of the way. I don’t want him wondering if I’m going to show up. We both know I’m not.

There was more. About how it would be best for Eric to simply relinquish responsibility. How he wanted to pay her a lump sum rather than keep paying monthly child support. That of course she could take him to court and force him to see Tyler, but how that wouldn’t be right for either of them.

Nicole sank into a kitchen chair. Her heart pounded and every part of her hurt. How could he do this?

She read the words again, searching for some meaning, some hidden message to make it all make sense. She could do as he said—go to court and force him to be a father. Why should she have to? Tyler was his son. Didn’t that matter at all?

Aware of the boy in the next room, she struggled to contain her tears. She couldn’t let him know what was going on. If he saw she was upset, he would get upset, too, and what was the point of that?

She grabbed her bag from the small desk by the pantry and reached inside for her cell phone. After pushing a couple of buttons, she prayed for Cecelia to answer.

“Hey, Nicole, what’s up?”

“Could you come over to look after Tyler for an hour or so? I know it’s short notice, but I—” She paused. What on earth was she supposed to say?

“I’ll be right there,” Cecelia told her. “Give me fifteen minutes.”

“Th-thank you.”

By the time the teen arrived, Nicole had managed to get control. She washed her face a couple of times and smiled at her reflection. She was still a wreck but hopefully she could get out of the house without breaking down in front of Tyler.

When Cecelia arrived, Tyler yelled with excitement. He showed her the Brad the Dragon coloring book he was working on and how he’d put stickers around the pictures.

Cecelia looked at her. “Take as much time as you need.”

“Thanks.” Nicole knelt down to hug her son. “I won’t be long. You be good, okay? Oh, and show Cece your mural. It’s looking really cool.”

“I will, Mommy.” He hugged her, then grabbed Cecelia’s hand and tugged her toward the hallway. “You have to see this!”

Nicole got into her car. Once there she wasn’t sure who to call. Gabby was still recovering from being sick. Shannon would make herself available, as would Hayley. Pam was out of town. She hesitated only a second before scrolling through her contact list.

Jairus picked up on the first ring. “Hey, this is unexpected,” he said.

At the sound of his low, steady voice, her tears returned. She clutched the phone tightly as she asked, “Can I come talk to you?”

“Of course. What’s up and how can I help?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

* * *

Nicole held the mug of herbal tea. She’d tried sipping the hot liquid, but her throat was too tight. She wasn’t sure she was ever going to stop crying.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered. “I don’t care about him hurting me. He can do that forever. I don’t care that he made me a fool in his movie. But this is his
son
. His child. My God, how can he walk away?”

She sat on the sofa in Jairus’s living room. He was in front of her, on the coffee table, facing her. He stroked her free hand.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I don’t understand, either. Tyler’s a great kid. He’s fun to be around. Easy. Eric’s an idiot.”

Probably true, she thought, but not an explanation. “You don’t know, either, then.”

“I don’t. I’m sorry. I wish I could say it’s a guy thing, but it isn’t. It makes me angry, but I can almost understand my ex not wanting to deal with my sister. But this is different. This is his blood.”

“Do you think I should take him to court? Force him to have visitation with Tyler?”

“How does that help?”

An excellent question and the entire point of the matter. Only Tyler mattered. Would his life be better if he saw his father because Eric was forced by the court? Or was it best to simply let the man walk away?

“A boy needs his father,” she said. “That’s what everyone says.”

“Does Tyler miss Eric?”

“No. He rarely talks about him. You know that. Remember when he said his dad was gone? Like he was dead or something? I’ve talked to him about his father. It’s clear that Tyler stopped missing him long before we were separated. They never had anything to do with each other.”

Jairus nodded without speaking. Nicole knew he wasn’t going to give his opinion. Not on something like this. She had to decide. She was Tyler’s mother.

“I should probably talk to someone,” she said at last. “A child psychologist or something like that. To make sure I’m not hurting him or doing something wrong.”

“You love him. You’re always going to make the right decision.”

That made her almost smile. “I wish that were true, but it’s not. I can easily screw him up.”

“You won’t.”

“I appreciate your faith in me.”

He leaned in and kissed her. The touch was light. Reassuring. He was offering comfort, not making a move. Funny how she hadn’t known him all that long, but she was sure of so many things.

“I love you,” she said unexpectedly. The words had come from nowhere, but having spoken them, she found she didn’t want to call them back.

The corners of his mouth turned up. “I love you, too.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

She smiled. “Now that you’ve won me, whatever will you do with me?”

His humor faded as he took both her hands in his. “Whatever you want.”

* * *

Oh, to be young again, Gabby thought as she walked into the kitchen to make lunch. The twins were back in school. They’d been sick for two days, then had recovered seemingly overnight. She’d kept them home an extra day, just to be sure, but this morning, they’d begged to return to class.

In contrast, Makayla had asked for another day and Gabby had agreed. Tomorrow they would both return to their regularly scheduled lives. Gabby wondered if the teen was dreading it as much as she was.

Physically she was close to 100 percent. Her appetite had returned and she hadn’t thrown up in nearly forty-eight hours. There was no reason not to go back to work. Except that she didn’t want to.

There it was—the ugly truth. She hated her job. Nothing about it was what she’d imagined. She missed being home, she didn’t like the long hours or minimal pay and the work itself was tedious.

She wrestled with what to do with that information. She knew what Andrew would say—he would tell her to quit and find something else that fulfilled her. Which she would like to do, if only she could figure out what that was.

She logged on to the laptop in the kitchen and checked her email, then found herself revisiting a site on homeschooling. The crazy idea had come to her between bouts of throwing up. There were online programs that provided all the material. It would only be until Makayla had the baby, she told herself. At most through June. The teen would return to high school the following fall.

Could she do it? Did she want to? Did Makayla? She had a feeling she knew the answer to the latter. Being pregnant wasn’t the thrill ride she’d anticipated and losing Boyd had only made things worse.

She logged off the site and found Makayla in the family room. The TV was off and the girl wasn’t reading anything. She was just looking out the window.

“You okay?” Gabby asked.

Makayla shook her head. “I’m not.”

Gabby moved toward her. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling nauseous again? Do you have a fever?”

She sat down on the sofa and touched the teen’s forehead. It was cool. Makayla was a little pale, but didn’t look sick.

“I’m okay,” she said, looking at Gabby. “I feel fine.” Tears filled her eyes. “I can’t do it. I can’t have the baby.”

“You mean keep the baby? You want to give it up for adoption?”

“No. I want to get rid of it. I want to have an abortion.”

The words were a slap. Gabby drew back. She had no idea what to say.

“I can’t do it,” Makayla said again, her voice rising. “I can’t be like you. I saw what happened, when we were all sick and you had to do everything, even though you were sick yourself. You take care of everybody. You’re always running around and doing stuff. I don’t want to be like that. I want to go have fun with my friends. I want my friends to like me again.”

Gabby told herself to take a breath and think before speaking.

“You’re getting over being sick,” she said slowly. “You’re upset.”

Makayla stood and glared at her. “I know what I’m saying. I want an abortion. Today. I want to get rid of the baby. I hate it. I hate being pregnant. This is awful. Get it out of me. Get it out!”

Gabby rose. “Stop screaming. You’re acting like a toddler having a tantrum. Sit down so we can discuss this like adults. If you’re old enough to have sex, you’re old enough to have a reasonable conversation.”

She wasn’t sure if her firm tone would work, but Makayla surprised her by wiping her face and sinking back onto the sofa. Gabby retreated to one of the chairs so they could face each other.

Dear God—what to say?

“An abortion isn’t an option,” she said, trying to sound as calm as possible. “You’re too far along.”

“I still can. In some places.”

So she’d been doing research? “It’s not an option for you.”

“Why not? You believe in a woman’s right to choose.” The words were defiant.

“You’re not choosing. You’re reacting to a series of circumstances. To being sick and hating school and losing Boyd. I do believe a woman should have control over her body, but an abortion isn’t a decision to be made lightly. Not like this. And not for the reasons you have. We’re in a position for you to carry this baby to term and you will. If you want to discuss adoption, that’s fine, but there won’t be an abortion.”

Makayla sprang to her feet again. “You can’t make me. I’ll talk to my dad. He’ll agree. You’ll see.”

“Maybe he will, but if he does, he’s wrong.”

“I’m going to tell him you said that.”

“Me, too.”

* * *

The longest afternoon in history turned into the longest evening when Andrew called to say he had to attend a dinner meeting. Gabby picked up the twins and kept them and herself busy playing games and making cookies. Makayla shut herself in her room. After weeks of a relatively easy relationship with her stepdaughter, Gabby was stung to realize how quickly the goodwill could evaporate.

Shortly after eight, Andrew walked in.

“I’m home,” he called.

The twins went running to their father in their pajamas. Makayla appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Let me get the girls into bed before you bring this up, please,” Gabby said to her. “They don’t need to hear the conversation.”

She wondered if the teen would protest, but Makayla surprised her by nodding her agreement and returning to her room.

Bath time passed quickly. Gabby and Andrew tucked the twins in and read them several stories before they fell asleep. As soon as they stepped into the hallway, her husband turned to her.

“What’s up?” He touched her cheek. “You’re on edge. I could tell you wanted the girls in bed before we talked. Are you okay?”

“I’m exhausted and you need to talk to your oldest daughter.”

Andrew took her hand in his. “Only if we do it together.”

“That’s not going to go well.”

“Makayla’s going to have to get over that.”

They walked to her room. She met them at the door, then stepped back to let them in. Once the door was closed behind them, the teen put her hands on her hips.

“Dad, I want an abortion. I’m not carrying this baby anymore and you can’t make me.”

Andrew stared at her. “What happened to keeping the baby? You wanted to raise it yourself.”