38. A New Pregnancy Expert in Town
38
A NEW PREGNANCY EXPERT IN TOWN
CHARLES
“What do you think about this for the spring catalog, Mr. Hawthorne?”
One of the PR interns aims his laser pointer at the projector screen, but my gaze is fixed on the date on the bottom of the screen.
It’s been exactly two months today since Daisy walked out of my office.
Two months since she confessed her love for me.
And two months since we last spoke.
“Charles, the team is waiting for your opinion.” Jimmy clears his throat, tapping lightly on the wooden table.
“Sorry, guys, but something urgent just came up and I have to be somewhere. I trust your judgment in picking the best fit for the company.” I’m already up from my seat. “Can’t wait to see what you decide.”
I can feel all the eyes tracking my moves as I step out of the room, but what’s the point of sitting in a meeting when my mind is elsewhere—with that far more important thing that’s waiting at my desk.
Sometime later, a knock breaks my concentration. I’ve just tucked the book into the top desk drawer when Jimmy enters my office.
“What the fuck is happening, Charles? You leave every meeting abruptly with one or the other lame excuse. If you don’t have time, inform my team beforehand, will you?”
“I did apologize before leaving, didn’t I?” My gaze narrows.
I’m the CEO, for fuck’s sake.
But Jimmy’s concern for my irritated mood lasts less than five seconds before he pushes another set of my buttons.
“Where is Daisy, by the way?”
“Can you stop repeating the same question every fucking day?”
“I will. The day you give me an answer that makes fucking sense. What’s going on between you two?”
“Everything is perfect between us. I told you she’s taking care of her dad, who’s gravely sick, by the way,” I almost snap at him, my voice sharp and cutting, but over the years, Jimmy has developed a thick skin against my attitude.
“Uh-huh. You mean the man who posts on social media five times a day about his cooking, fashion, and life?”
God, Jason.
“And unlike you, Daisy is not being a jackass.”
“You spoke with her?” The words scrape against my tongue like sandpaper as I clutch on to the armrests. “What did she say?”
“Why don’t you ask your damn wife, if everything between the two of you is so perfect?”
Without giving me another glance, he storms out of my office. I wait for the door to click shut before retrieving the book. After a deep, calming breath, I turn to the page where my bookmark rests.
Chapter 3: Foods to Eat in Your First Trimester.
It’s way past dinnertime when I reach my home, and my feet hesitate at the landing at the sound of a feminine voice talking to Mrs. Kowalski.
Daisy?
That can’t be right. I just saw her.
“Look who finally showed up.” Chloe, perched at the kitchen counter, raises her head from a fashion magazine.
“Why are you here so late?” I approach my sister, dropping my laptop bag onto the couch.
“I was right on time for dinner. Hate to break it to you, big brother, but you’re the latecomer here.”
Shit! Did we plan something and I forgot?
“Relax! I’m just an unannounced guest.” My sister grins, snagging another cookie from the half-empty plate in front of her.
“Sorry, had too much work.” I ruffle her hair before settling onto the barstool beside her.
She makes an annoyed sound, swatting my hand away.
“Really? Because I checked with your temp assistant, and he said you left work at six. Where’ve you been for the last three hours?” My little sister sits up, swiveling in her seat to face me.
She’s like a bloodhound when it comes to digging up info. I usually enjoy her talent, but not today, when it’s directed at me.
Though she’s out of luck.
There’s no way I’m confessing that I’ve been spending my evenings parked outside Daisy’s friend’s apartment with one of the pregnancy books in hand, just to catch a glimpse of my wife.
Was it really three hours today?
Who cares? It was well worth it.
Daisy came out for a walk with Willow. And bless the spring weather, I was able to catch a glimpse of her pregnant belly in that crop top she paired with her joggers.
Chloe snaps her fingers before my face, pulling my attention back to her.
“I was in a meeting at a client’s office.” The lie slips past my lips effortlessly.
“Uh-huh,” my sister mutters under her breath, as if she already knows my bullshit. But otherwise, she’s quiet, and that can only mean one thing. She’s got bigger fish to fry tonight.
“Why did you say you’re here?” I ask to know the reason for her unexpected arrival.
“I wanted to have dinner with my brother.” She gives me that smile that means mischief half the time.
“Got it.” As soon as I place my hands on the counter, like clockwork, Mrs. Kowalski enters the kitchen.
Efficient doesn’t begin to describe my housekeeper—she sets out placemats on the counter and arranges a colorful cheese, fruit, and cracker platter and two wineglasses before leaving us alone.
Meanwhile, Chloe grabs a bottle of pinot from the rack. After uncorking it, she fills my glass to the brim and then hers.
“Are we celebrating something or just getting drunk?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care.” My sister giggles before clinking her glass with mine.
We’re barely two minutes into this suspicious dinner, and I have taken one sip of my drink, when Chloe taps on the counter.
“You know we know, right?”
Talk about taking something head-on.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I reply, avoiding eye contact and focusing on my drink.
My sister is just warming up.
“Charlie, I’ve had enough of your nonsense. Tell me exactly what happened between you and Daisy.”
“Nothing happened. She’s taking care of her dad, and since we don’t want to confuse Jason, she’s staying with Willow. It’s closer—less traffic, easier commute.”
The excuse I’m repeatedly giving to Jimmy takes full, concrete form.
Chloe doesn’t say anything for a moment, but I can practically see steam coming out of her ears.
She gnaws at the inside of her cheeks, and that’s how I know she’s repeating the counting routine our mom forced her to learn to control her temper.
I’m actually impressed to see her practice it in real life.
“So you’re saying that Charles Ashcroft Hawthorne, the man who has the power to halt the entire town’s traffic with a single phone call, prefers his wife staying away because of commute time? How dumb do you think we are?”
Her words hit a nerve deep in my heart. What’s the use of all this power, if I’m still unable to win my wife back?
“Not enough, it seems, because I expected you not to pry into my personal life.” I slam my glass down a bit too hard, surprised it doesn’t shatter. “I love you, Chloe, but God, you can be so irritating sometimes. Learn to read the room and heed when someone’s subtly telling you to mind your own business.”
Am I the dumb fuck to think my sister will cower and back away?
Definitely, because as opposed to my liking, Chloe only sits tall in her seat.
“This is every bit of my business. My brother’s acting like an idiot, and I want to know why.”
“There are things you don’t know here, Chloe,” I mutter under my breath, words of frustration escaping past my lips.
“Like Daisy being pregnant and you being an asshole to send her away when she needs you the most?”
Her reply is like an unexpected whip, sharp and firm, and a chill runs down my spine.
If Chloe knows, that means everyone in my family is aware of it.
“I didn’t send anyone anywhere. She left on her own.”
“And did you lose your voice or your ability to stop her?” Chloe doesn’t pause for a reply. “It’s because of your mom, isn’t it?”
Silence lingers between us for a few moments.
“What do you mean?” I ask, shocked not just because of her accurate conclusion but also because Chloe and I have never talked about my birth mother. In fact, for years, she didn’t even know we were stepsiblings, and when she did find out, that word became the most hated word in her dictionary.
“You’ve got some crazy, stupid idea that you won’t be a good dad because of how your mom treated you.” Her eyes lock with mine as if she can read every insecurity, every fear, inside me.
Even though she’s pushing all my buttons, frustrating the hell out of me, I’m so grateful to have her in my life. Fighting with me for my happiness and what she believes is right.
But tonight, she’s wrong.
“So now you’re an expert on the woman you haven’t even met?”
“I don’t need to know anything except that she left her little boy behind.” Chloe takes a breath, placing her hand over my clenched fist on the counter. “Remember when I was little, I used to ask if you could be my protector forever? Let us be that for you for once, Charlie. I know you’re scared, but please let us in. Let Daisy in.”
The hopeful gleam in her eyes dies when I pull my hand out from under hers.
“I know you mean well, but I don’t want to discuss this. Not now, not ever.” My jaw clenches to the point of pain. “But since I also know how hard it is for you to give up once you’ve set your mind on something, let me be clear. Yes, everything you said is true. Maybe my belief is misplaced. But no one, including you, can change how I feel about this. This is for Daisy and me to figure out how we want to move forward.”
“But you’re not talking to her, dammit. Or are you making plans in your sleep?”
“That’s enough.”
I don’t know if it’s my raised voice or that my housekeeper knows I’ve never taken that tone with my little sister, but she hurries into the kitchen.
“Don’t worry, Mrs. K. Everything’s fine. My brother’s just being his usual dumbass self.” Chloe’s lips curl, but her eyes shoot daggers at me until she turns her gaze away. “Since you’re here, can I ask you something? Daisy’s been having morning sickness and can’t keep anything down. Even though Willow’s excited that the baby is finally making its presence known, which to be honest, everyone thought would be a miracle in itself given its Charles’ kid, Daisy’s diet is taking a serious hit. She mentioned craving your pierogi yesterday. Could you make some, and I’ll take it over to Willow’s?”
Mrs. Kowalski’s already tying her apron, while I’m stuck on her words. People are having fun at the expense of my baby. What the fuck?
“Sure. I’ll also make a big batch tomorrow. Daisy can freeze it.”
“Thank you so much. You’re seriously my last hope. Everything GG sent has been rejected by Daisy’s stomach, and our great-gram’s only a few recipes away from taking it as a personal offense.”
What in the hell is happening behind my back? Here I thought my family had no clue Daisy was pregnant, but not only do they know, they’re also dispatching food and are more up-to-date on her present state than me.
“If you know so much, shouldn’t that have been the first thing you asked Mrs. Kowalski when you came here?”
It’s as if my words don’t even reach my sister. She waves her hand, swatting my concerned words like a fly.
“Who the hell are you to worry about her?”
A seething storm churns inside me, a tempest of fury and frustration as she dismisses me so easily on such an important matter.
“She’s still my wife, in case you’ve forgotten, sis.”
But my low, threatening voice has no impact on Chloe. “Go away, Charlie. Take your grumpy macho act elsewhere.” She shoves me out of the chair before turning back to my housekeeper. “Mrs. K, do you want to see the baby? Daisy had her ultrasound this morning. I can’t believe my little blip of a niece is already ten weeks old.”
A possessive pang hits me like a tornado as Chloe pulls out her phone and slides it across the counter to my housekeeper. I reach for it, but my sister snatches it away, while Mrs. Kowalski freezes, her hands in the air.
“You come to my house uninvited, drink my wine, ruin my evening with your nonsense talk, and yet you keep such a big thing from me? Give me that phone, Chloe.”
“I’d die before I let you see my niece. Only those who care about Daisy and my little princess have the right to see her pic. Since you care about neither, you can fuck off.”
My blood rushes in my ears, a roar that drowns out everything else but her words and the desire to see the picture.
“Your niece wouldn’t even be here if not for me. If anything, I have the first right to her before anyone else, and especially you.”
“Oh, really! Your contribution in her making means shit, Charlie. You need care and compassion to be a real dad or mom. And you’ve shown neither to my niece.”
If I weren’t burning in frustration, I’d have laughed at her use of the word contribution, but her one word seems to pinch deeper and deeper inside me.
Niece. Again.
My muscles tense.
Until now, every time I thought of my baby, I imagined a five-year-old boy having the time of his life with his mom. She comes to his school events, playdates, and soccer matches. But what if it’s a girl—missing her dad?
Fuck no.
“Who said anything about a girl? It takes at least twelve weeks to find out the gender of the baby?”
“So what are you, the new pregnancy expert in town?” My sister raises an eyebrow.
At least I hope to be expert enough for my baby.
When I just stare at her, Chloe shrugs. “I have a feeling it’s a girl.”
Before I can stay with that warm feeling gripping my chest a second longer, my sister turns to the housekeeper.
“Mrs. K, how was it when you were pregnant? Did you guess if it’d be a boy or a girl, and were you right?” Unlike when she’s talking to me, Chloe’s beaming at my housekeeper. “I ask Daisy every day. But all she says is, ‘I just want a healthy baby.’ What kind of boring answer is that?”
Mrs. Kowalski laughs, her hands pausing over the rolling pin before she resumes flattening the dough.
“Some women say they do have a feeling. In my case, my husband and I made a bet. I wanted a girl, but he was sure it’d be a boy. And he was right both times.”
“That’s so cool! I can’t wait to go betting war with Willow, Elodie, and Violet.”
Chloe keeps talking about my baby , and for the first time, my heart isn’t gripped with fear.
There’s something like pink hope filling my insides with a promise of a never-ending adventure.