11. Gwen
Chapter eleven
Gwen
The clock on the wall says it’s four, so I don’t have too long to wait for Gabe to be up. Longer than if it was winter though. Fucking sun. I swear, I spend way too much time in my life waiting for Gabe to wake up and I’m constantly conscious of how much time he misses in his stone sleep. He doesn’t have a choice, but it’s always made me sad for him. I could have sworn that his mom stayed up through the day sometimes, but maybe my memory is off.
As I lay there, I realize that I need to pee. The morning light of my window shines on him, his wings tucked into his back, and I love how his arm is thrown out over my side of the bed. You can see exactly where I fit.
I’m grateful for my smartphone, because I take it out and snap a picture. I don’t ever want to forget this moment. I don’t ever want to forget this image of Gabe, and how soft he looks while he is literal stone in my bed. After taking a few pictures, I notice that I have some new messages on my phone.
Hayley: Gwen, check your porch. A little raccoon dropped something off. ;)
Okay? I’m unsure what she’s talking about, considering I don’t have a porch, she could mean the front door to the shop, or rooftop where Gabe and I hang out, or the back door to the shop. Thankfully, it’s the first, because there is a package sitting on my welcome mat. It’s in a brown paper bag that looks a little bit worse for wear, and it’s pretty light. When I pick it up, I find some pregnancy tests inside. Along with a note:
Gwen, you are probably close to being able to test, let me know the results. us know the results (me and Sydney).
I smile, because she’s an absolute goofball. It still feels too early to test, but I suppose the sooner we know things the better. I sneak into my room and into the bathroom and honestly, I have no idea why I’m sneaking, because it’s not like I’m going to wake up Gabe… but sometimes these things don’t exactly make sense.
I open the box and read the directions. This is nothing like the pee on a stick scenarios that I have seen on movies or TV. There is a little cup and a dropper and you like suck some up and drop it on the test. I have peed in a cup at the doctor's office plenty of times, so maybe this is less complicated. Aiming for a stick might be way harder. There’s also like twelve of them in the bag, so, I don’t know if Hayley expected to be trying for a long time or if she expected me to be trying for a long time, but I’m well stocked either way.
I pee in the cup and use the dropper to start the test like a boss bitch scientist, and begin my wait. It says it’s going to take fifteen minutes, so I decide to hop in for a quick shower. When I’m out, I check the test and squint because it’s almost like I can see two lines, but I’m not sure. Surely if it’s this faint, it doesn’t mean anything. I open my phone and text the chat a picture.
It looks like it’s a no.
Sydney and Hayley must both be up because they both respond really quickly.
Hayley: I don’t know, I feel like I can see a faint line there.
Sydney: A line is a line girl, your eggo is preggo.
A line is a line? It’s barely there!
Hayley: Yeah, mine was even lighter when I first tested. But it’ll get darker over the next few days.
Sydney: You either have HGC in your system, or you don’t. So, unless you have cancer, it means you’re pregnant.
It’s shortly followed by my same picture that she has photo manipulated. There’s a couple copies, in the first one, it looks like she’s messed with the contrast and drawn a little arrow pointing at the line. In the next one she has inverted the colors, and it’s even more obvious.
Well, look at that.
I guess I’m pregnant then.
Hayley: Congratulations!
Sydney: Congratulations!
I stare down at the test in my hand, and my other creeps to rest on my belly. My breath quickens, and my vision blurs as I feel the telltale sting and tightness in my throat that means I’m about to cry. Emotions whip through me, faster than I can name them, to the point that I wonder if there is anything to me except emotion.
I’m relieved and elated and terrified and nervous and in love, and it all combines into confusion. My hands are shaking. I drop the phone and test on the counter and hang my head. I’m overwhelmed by how badly I want this baby, about how much I already love this baby, and yet my own words echo back at me.
“What is a good idea? A perfect quiet little life raising the baby I’ve always wanted with my best friend who has never let me down."
I don't know how to navigate this, because even though everything seemed so clear before—and it still is—I’m realizing that there is a new tone to what I can see. I can see Gabe and I, loving and parenting this child together. I can see how easy and intuitive it will be, how this baby will never need to worry if it’s loved. But then, it gets muddled.
Because now, there’s two futures. In one, Gabe and I are in love. We’re together and we’re happy, and it only serves to bring more joy to our family.
In the other, we go back to being friends. In that one, my mother is right. I never meet anyone else, but it’s not for the reasons she said. I don’t meet anyone else not because no one wants to be with a girl who has a kid with her best friend, but because how could I ever be with anyone else after having a taste of what it’s like to be with Gabe?
My tears splatter on the counter, and I swipe up the test, worried that they will ruin it. I clutch it to my chest, holding it close and savoring what it means—while its meaning breaks my heart. I take deep breaths, pulling them in and out as tears stream down my face. I’m so lost, because how am I supposed to navigate this? How am I supposed to look at Gabe when he’s holding our baby and not kiss him? How am I supposed to go on when my heart is breaking over and over?
I climb back into bed, fitting myself into Gabe, because I have to face one horrible fact. This might be the last time I’ll ever hold him. I clutch the test in my hand, and sob into his chest, my tears making his stone skin slick. I don’t say anything, because I know that sometimes he’s awake enough to remember words. Tonight when he wakes, he’ll ask me what was wrong, but I suppose I can always tell him I had a nightmare.
Maybe I’ll wait. Maybe I can hold off from telling him for a few days, then at least I’d get a little more time with him, before it’s all over.
You guys… I am freaking out.
Sydney: That’s pretty normal.
Hayley: Why? What’s wrong?
I tap my finger on the screen, unsure how I can even begin to express the current situation.
It’s hard to explain…
Sydney: Do you want to talk about it?
Kinda… it’s just… complicated. Can we not talk around the guys though?
Hayley: Of course! Though, Jake’s here and you know how shifter hearing is…
Sydney: Yeah, I wonder if we should come to you bc… the farm is full of Hoffmans, as per usual.
Gabe can still hear when he’s sleeping… we could meet at the house? It will be empty.
Hayley: Good idea, see you there in a few!
I get dressed and scrawl a note for Gabe.
-Went to the house for a bit, see you when you wake up!
I pause with my pen hovering over the paper. I always sign my notes with a heart, but it feels bigger now. The sentiment isn’t wrong though, so I put it there anyway.
It only takes me five minutes to get to the house. Outside, it’s just as gorgeous and it always has been, though now it looks very abandoned. It’s dark, of course, and Roberta, our Avian mailperson drops our mail at the store, so at least it’s not got mail spilling out of the mailbox to match the unmown lawn. It’s this happy purple color that I can’t imagine Preston wanted to paint millennial greige.
I unlock the door, and for the first time, I imagine actually owning this house. Growing up, I loved it. Gabe’s mom was lovely and even his dad wasn’t a total dirtbag when he visited. He often brought Gabe presents and made a big deal over any of Gabe’s accomplishments. The father Preston spoke of sounds so different from the Mr. Fairfield I knew as a kid. Even after Preston and I married, Mr. Fairfield would always sneak me foods that Preston said I shouldn’t have because they would make me fat. Near the end of his life, he spent a lot of time here with Gabe’s mom, and I got the impression that Mrs. Fairfield always hated that.
Preston’s renovations have ruined so much of this house for me. The outdated but cozy kitchen is gone, gutted in favor of sleek chrome appliances and black modern cabinetry. Much of the rest of the house is empty, painted stark white so antithesis to the Victorian styling.
“Whoa,” Hayley says, when she arrives. “I did not expect this,”
“From the outside? Yeah, Preston was working on making a lot of changes…”
“Well… I don’t want to speak ill of the dead… but… I’m glad that stopped….”
“Yeah.”
Sydney arrives then, and for a moment I’m sad Laney isn’t with her. This could be a long conversation, though, and he’d probably get fussy.
“I stopped at Cool Beans and got fuel!” she hands Hayley and I each a cup.
“Bless you,” I inhale the delectable scent and I swear Mitch and Clay do something magical to their coffees.
“Ok, so what’s the deal, Gwen?” she asks, settling down on the couch that’s covered by a sheet. Hailey sits next to her, looking expectantly. I settle in a chair across from them and take a deep breath.
“I don’t know what the guys have told you…”
“Essentially nothing.” Hayley crosses her arms and pouts. “I’ve tried to get it out of him, but he acted like it was some sort of huge secret.”
“That’s rich, considering it was his idea. Basically, Sydney, as you know, Preston was a two-timing asshole. Because of that, we aren’t sure which, if either, of his marriages were legal. Therefore, they don’t know how to split his estate, or if they should at all.”
The girls gasp, and even those little sounds make me feel so supported. “As such, it’s likely going to revert to his father’s estate, as all of the assets were his first. In his will, it mentions that any living grandchildren can inherit as well. Jake cracked a joke that since he was Gabe’s dad too, and Preston’s mom got Gabe written out of the will, I should just have a baby with Gabe.”
The looks on their faces are priceless. Hayley is downright shocked but Sydney, ever practical, nods her head and purses her lips. I look down at my hands. It sounds so shitty and shallow when I say it like that.
“Anyway, it seemed like a reasonable idea once I thought about it… now though? It seems really dumb.” I bury my face in my hands and hold back tears. I can’t believe Gabe went along with it.
Sydney cuts straight to the chase. “Do you not want a baby? We can go to the clinic if you like?”
I’m so grateful for her unwavering support, these two are girls’ girls for real. “No, it’s kind of the exact opposite issue. I really want this baby, not just a baby, but Gabe’s baby. But now that I’m pregnant, we have to go back to how we were before and—”
“Why?” Hayley interrupts.
I blink. “Why what?”
“No, she’s got a point. Why do you have to go back to how it was before?” Sydney asks, leaning forward in her seat.
“Because… well, because that is what we agreed on. What we discussed.”
“So discuss it again.” Sydney crosses her legs, and I’m reminded that between the three of us, she’s the badass business bitch. “If things have changed… which I am assuming they have?”
I nod.
“Then it’s time to have another talk. There’s literally no point in you sitting around and crying about scenarios that may not happen if you haven’t even talked to him about it.”
“I’m sorry, didn’t you like, run off to the hotel and fix shit without even telling Brooks?”
“Hush, I’m a mated mother now, I’m wise… plus I have learned how fucking dumb our men can be when they do the same thing. I don’t know about you guys, but I like to have information when I make choices.”
Hayley smiles, and I’m so happy Jake found her and trapped her here with us. She’s a burst of fresh air wherever she goes. “Like, remember when we asked all the townspeople before we went storming into that dungeon? It’s just like that. Gabe kept saying that it was important to have as much information as possible before we started.”
“You guys are right, of course. Sorry, it’s just hard when he’s sleeping and I can’t talk to him for hours, my mind just spirals to the worst case scenarios.”
“Wow, I can’t imagine what that must be like, I have no idea.” Sydney says, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “That’s what friends are for, girl.”
“What, are you seriously trying to tell me that you, Sydney ‘I’m a boss ass bitch’ spirals?”
“Girl… you have obviously never been a parent. The first few days after giving birth are nothing but joy and one long spiral all rolled into one. I don’t know how many times I told Brooks that I was obviously not cut out to be a mom!”
“I could make spiraling an Olympic sport… and I’d medal.” Hayley says. “You haven’t even begun to know the things I can spiral about.”
I sniff and wipe tears from my eyes. “Thanks guys, I’m so lucky you moved here and met the guys… or met the guys and moved here or… whatever.”
“Here,” Hayley says, reaching into her bag. She pulls out a big bottle of sparkling cider and grins. “I know you don’t live here, but is there any chance of glasses anywhere?”
“In the study,” I say, pointing. “It’s where Preston shoved shit that he knew his dad loved but he wanted to get rid of. He had a big hutch filled with glasses and booze.”
Hayley jumps up and opens the door, stopping when she does. “Wow, this place is really out of touch with reality. Uh, Gwen… I think you have some voice—uh messages on your answering machine. It’s blinking like a bomb about to go off.”
With a groan, I lever myself out of the chair. Sure enough, the light is blinking and it says there are twenty messages in analog text. “It’s probably all contractors wondering why they haven’t been paid.”
I press the button and a female voice plays. “Hello, I am trying to reach Gwen Fairfield. Gwen, I know you probably don’t want to hear from me, but we need to talk. This is Cecelia, by the way, Preston’s uh… other wife. Call me back when you get this.”
Cecelia. Jeez, her name, even her voice, sounds beautiful.
“I thought I heard—” Sydney says as the next message begins.
“Hi Gwen, Cecelia again. Listen, don’t freak out, we just need to talk. Call me back.”
We stand in stunned silence as message after message plays, Cecelia getting more urgent and annoyed as time goes on.
“Gwen, pick up the fucking phone. There’s a lot on the line here! You can’t just hide in your silly little monster town and hope this goes away!”
Finally, the last message “We are running out of time, I’m coming to Hallow’s Cove. I’ll see you this evening.”
It hangs in the air, heavy amongst us.
We stood there, staring at the answering machine, as if it was about to blow up. "So yeah, she hasn't changed a bit. Still a bitch." Sydney grimaces. "Sorry about that."
Hayley shuffles from foot to foot. "She sounds really intense."
She does sound really fucking intense, and honestly, that makes so much sense for Preston. In hindsight, I was probably pretty easy for him to manipulate, but I can't imagine that he actually liked me very much, because he was always the kind of person that liked a challenge, and I'm just not that girl. Cecelia, at least from how she sounds on the phone, sounds much more his type. For not the first time, I wonder what the hell he was even doing with me. What did he want with some dumpy girl in the backwoods of nowhere when he could obviously have this powerful, beautiful, composed boss bitch that I just heard on the phone?
"When was that message left?" Sydney asks.
Hayley leans over and looks at the machine. "It looks like it was today."
"Great, so she's on her way here. I was kind of hoping that we would be lucky and then it would've been from a few days ago and we missed her."
"No such luck."
"What do you wanna do?" Sydney asks. "Do you wanna leave? Do you want us to go get the guys? Do you want us to go get your lawyer? "
"I hate to break it to you, but we only have one lawyer. And he’s this old slug man. I worry he's not gonna be too much help."
"OK then, so I'm going to call my lawyer, and we're gonna get you a real lawyer. As amazing as this slug man sounds. I have a friend from school that I think will potentially be better. I'll be right back." Sydney pulls out her cell phone as she leaves the room, walking towards the kitchen where the house phone is. Her phone doesn’t work, we don’t have Wi-Fi at the house, but I’ll bet she has their number there.
Hayley wrings her hands and looks toward the door. "I don't have any lawyer friends that I can call, but I could pour you that glass of cider?"
"Thanks. I honestly think that maybe I should be getting home. The odds are that Cecelia is gonna come here to the house, and I don't know that I want to be here when she gets here."
"That's a great idea! Let's leave! I too would like to not be here when she gets here."
Damn, really hates conflict doesn't she?
After Sydney finishes up her call, she writes her friend's number down on a napkin. She then pulls Hayley and I into a hug.
"This is going to be OK. Whatever this bitch wants you are in a better position. You were married first, and now you are pregnant with a Fairfield heir. We can only benefit from her deciding to cause a ruckus and take it to court. Because if I know Cecelia, there is no way that this bitch let Preston put a baby in her.”
And then, it all clicks into place. That is why Preston wanted me. That is why I was useful to him. He must have known that there was no way Cecelia would ever have a baby, and he wanted an heir. I wish it didn't hurt to know that Preston was using me as his gullible little breeder. But it still hurts. How am I letting him do this to me from beyond the grave? What's worse is it makes me feel pathetic.
As we are about to leave, I remember that there is a trunk in the attic with some of Gabe's baby clothes.
"You guys go on ahead, I am going to grab something to surprise Gabe with.” The girls give me a hug, and I take the stairs two at a time until I arrive at the third floor attic. When I open the chest and see Gabe's tiny baby clothes, I can't help but cry. They are so tiny, and they tie up the back like a hospital gown to make room for tiny wings. It’s so cute, and my heart squeezes thinking about the life growing inside me. Monster genes are dominant, so inside me will certainly be a gargoyle. I imagine our baby, dressed in this wee sleep gown, flapping their wings in the bath, like a little bird in a birdbath.
This whole thing with Cecelia is scaring the shit out of me, but Sydney is right. The law is on my side. My wedding date with Preston falls before Cecelia's wedding date, and I’m the one that is pregnant with a Fairfield heir. What's more is, I have something Cecelia doesn't, something invaluable. I have a best friend who is going to help me raise this perfect little baby, and if I'm lucky… maybe more. Surely anything that has happened with us over the last two weeks meant something to Gabe too? Surely when I tell him about our baby, he'll want to be a real family… he'll want to be with me.
I’m a bundle of nervous energy as I skip down the stairs. The sun should be setting soon and I'll be able to tell Gabe. We will get a game plan together for talking to Cecelia, and I’ll talk to him about us.
As I'm locking the door to the house, I hear tires squeal down the road. It's one of those really loud, rumbling, sports cars that I have only ever seen in the city. We don't even have one street light in town, so nobody drives like that here. My stomach drops out as the bright red car screeches to a halt in front of the house. Of course. I'm not surprised when the door opens and delicate high heeled ankles step out of the car. Cecelia stands, and she looks exactly like I remember from the pictures. She has long, shiny brown hair, and wears an expensive looking cream blouse, and a pair of tailored houndstooth trousers. I pick at my rolled hem denim shorts, and know how plain I must look. I wish that I had worn something other than my faded pink D&D t-shirt that says “Sleight of Hand” on it, because I would like to look a little more put together. While I haven't left Hallows Cove often, I do know how Preston saw me when I dressed like this. Something tells me Cecelia is going to see me the same way. She's going to see an immature, ignorant girl that can be easily manipulated. Every time we went into the city, Preston always picked out my clothes, because he had always wanted to make sure that I was “presentable” to be seen with him.
Cecelia snatches her purse out of the car and threads her arm through with jerky motions. She slams her door and her eyes fix on me.
The clacking of her heels on the driveway is a war drum as she storms toward me. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Is this town so backwards that you don't even answer your fucking phone?" she snaps.
"I am—"
“You know what? I don't care. I'm here now and we are going to deal with this. I'm not going to let you ruin everything that I am owed. I didn't go through all of the effort of marrying and dealing with that cheating son of a bitch just to lose everything because you can’t pick up the phone.”
She’s up in my face, towering over me, because of her heels, and it’s a miracle I’m standing my ground at all. Still, I don’t play a rogue for nothing, it’s always been about trying to embody that take no shit attitude, so I channel my character.