Shark Bait

33. Missing Sharks

THIRTY-THREE

MISSING SHARKS

TROY

My family, specifically Mom and Dad, hosted what looked like a small festival on our farm. They set up a three-day barbeque and even had a bouncy castle to entertain the kids so that the adults could enjoy themselves with food and drinks. It was a festive event, with law enforcement all over the property.

I must say, after sleeping with a criminal and promising Alessio I’d remain silent about his family, seeing all my dad’s friends from various law enforcement organizations made me a little nervous. Needless to say, I welcomed the solitude once my parents returned to work three days after I arrived back home.

Well, relative solitude. Denver kept calling. He’s wondering what I’m not telling him. But I deflect with partial truth. I tell him how I met this hot European guy with the finest ass on that side of the globe, and that he invited me to Italy and paid for my ticket. I left and went on his yacht, which was why nobody could find me. But then I got preggo, and he changed his mind about me.

He dumped me with the guy (La Falena) from the hotel who was supposed to make arrangements for me to get home, but he kept me because he’s got a pregnancy fetish. When the Euro dude found out La Falena kept me for blackmail, he sent for me, and it was a good thing too, because I’d have ended up dead at the hand of the same lunatic who killed La Falena.

Denver asked how the “lunatic” knew about my guitar.

I told him I didn’t know what went on in the mind of a crazy person. And I’m glad Denver asked me all that over the phone after he left the house and got back on the band tour, because if he told me Shark made sure I got my guitar back from La Falena’s hotel, I would have lost my shit in front of Denver.

This way, I was able to lose it in my bedroom.

Besides, there was no way in hell I was telling Denver one of the reasons I fell for Falena’s con was because I planned to get money Denver could use to launch his music career. He’d feel terrible.

Mom and Dad treat me like broken glass so I asked Denver only to tell them that I met a rich guy online who knocked me up and then dumped me. I apologized to my parents for ghosting them and told them I did it because I knew they wouldn’t approve of me going overseas for some random dude I met on the internet.

I cried as I lied to them all, but I have to say it was a great lie, one they easily believed and one that would not make my dad go on an investigative spree, because I told him I didn’t want my daughter to know about her biological father who rejected her. I told my dad if she asked about him, I’d tell her he’s dead. Which is true.

Denver supported my story. I can tell he’s still unsure whether I’m being entirely truthful, but I think he thinks I’m having a hard time because I’m heartbroken over the guy who knocked me up, then dumped me. Luckly, Denver’s rising fame means he’s traveling so much for TV or podcast appearances or various social media events that he’s rarely home. He’s got a big life, and Levi’s gone along with him.

This leaves my other two brothers and me with our parents in Tennessee, since Carl recently moved in with his boyfriend in California. He got a job in Hollywood, so he’s living his best life. We’re all proud of him and happy he’s found someone who makes him happy.

In the hospital, next to my bed, Mom is sewing the letter M on a knitted pink winter blanket, because last night, baby Miralynn arrived, weighing seven pounds and two ounces. I’m resting in the bed reading a fantasy romance about a powerful fae king who meets a girl at a farm and tells her he’s a soldier and not the king. Now I’m on the scene where she’s arriving at the royal court. I can’t wait to find out what her reaction will be when she realizes the male she thinks is a soldier is actually the Seelie king.

A knock on the door interrupts our rest, and Mom puts away the blanket just as a nurse wearing cute pink scrubs with pink bows on them rolls in a crib with my baby bundled up in it.

“Good morning, Mama,” the nurse says.

I sit up, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as if I hadn’t spent fifteen hours in labor, trying to expel a healthy human out of my body. I extend my hands and wiggle my fingers when the nurse parks the cart. She hands me my baby.

This is the first time I get to take a good look at her pretty face.

Tiny nose. Puffy cheeks. Pursed lips. She’s perfect. I press my lips against her forehead, and the sweet smell of her hits me right in the chest, but I need to get ahold of my emotions because the nurse is telling me something. Ah. She’s talking about breastfeeding, and she’ll now teach me how to do that.

My mom asks if I want her to leave, but I tell her I don’t mind if she stays. My breasts feel sore to the touch. The nurse tells me that’s normal because the milk is coming in, and now the baby is near the nipple, and I grit my teeth when she latches on and starts sucking.

“Ouch,” I say. Oh, this is not pleasant. “I don’t know why I thought breastfeeding would be nice.” I do, but I can’t say I watched all those happy bitches on TV looking serene with their baby on the tit. Nah. They lied.

The nurse chuckles. “With most moms, the first two weeks are difficult, but if they push past that time frame, most moms come to enjoy it.”

“Honey, you do you,” my mom says. “If you breastfeed, that’s great. And if not, that’s also great.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

Mom smiles. “I want to hold her when you’re done.”

The nurse looks around the room, picks up things here and there, and, once she’s sure I’ll need nothing for a while, says, “Once you’re done, we can take the baby or you can keep her here.” The nurse starts tucking the sheet to make it tighter over the mattress, frowns, and pauses.

“Is there something wrong?” I sit up, trying to see what she’s looking at.

She picks up a small blue object and twirls it between her fingers. “It’s a toy,” she says. “Looks like one of my coworkers thought she was a boy and put a toy shark in her cot.”

My hand flies to my mouth to prevent a sob, but there’s no stopping the rush of tears that flood my eyes and stream down my cheeks.

I didn’t expect this.

I didn’t. I didn’t think he’d come here. Ever.

I tried to do what Alessio said and deleted Shark from my memories, but then our baby was born and I was going to name her Lynn Montgomery, but when they asked me what her name was, I said Miralynn. It felt so right that I couldn’t change it.

My mom gets up and leans over the bed, a concerned expression on her face. She asks if I’m okay. The nurse also asks if I’m okay, and I tell them both I’m fine. I tell them everything is great, while extending my hand toward the nurse, asking her through my tears to give me the shark toy.

She drops the plush toy in my palm, and I close my fist over it, then continue to feed my baby. She’s fallen asleep on my breast. I can’t stop crying, but luckily, everyone thinks it’s hormones.

It’s nearly nine at night when Mom, Dad, and pretty much everyone I’ve ever known from our town leaves the hospital room and I have some time to myself. I finally use the bathroom. It’s a painful experience, and if I could have avoided it, I would have.

Now I stand in front of the mirror, brushing my teeth and trying to figure out how I’ll style my hair. Maybe leave it down since my hair is lush and full like never before. I brush it well and fluff it up with my fingers, then apply some mascara and the sour-apple lip gloss I found by scouring every major retailer in the country.

I pinch my cheeks to make them rosier and slowly walk back and climb into the bed. Then I wait. I try to read my book but can’t because I’m so distracted thinking about seeing Shark again. I missed him so much. I just want to hug him and smell him and kiss him. But most of all, I want to tell him I love him and ask him if there’s any way we can be together. Any way at all.

Because the truth is I’m failing at integrating back into my life here when he’s my whole life. I can’t breathe here when my heart’s wherever he is, hunting down men on the list of names Alessio made from the information I provided him.

The next thing I know, the night nurse is trying to wake me up to feed the baby. I fell asleep. Damn it!

Groggy, half asleep, and in pain from the episiotomy, I ask for pain meds. When she brings the cup with pills in it, she sets it on the nightstand near me. I look closely and, in the dim light, spot a lollipop beside the cup of meds.

The nurse leaves, and once I finish feeding Miralynn, I unwrap the lollipop and suck on it. Strawberry-melon flavor. I stay awake for two hours, waiting for Shark to return.

I feed the baby again, and I have to say, breastfeeding makes my breasts hurt. But the baby seems happy to latch on, sucking for five seconds and falling asleep with her mouth still open. I hold her in my arms, sleeping like that, while I wait for her daddy.

He never comes.