Chapter 8 #2
“You don’t know that. You don’t even know them. My parents love me, Otto.”
“I know that the phone you were supposed to use for emergencies—say, when a group of men showed up at your cabin lookin’ for their missin’ guns—was wired to blow that entire cabin to kingdom come the minute you tried to call out.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” she shot back, her jaw clenched. “I’m telling you—my dad wouldn’t hurt me. He’s mad at me. He’s disappointed. That doesn’t mean he’s a murderer.”
“You know the guy that was drivin’ our truck was beat within an inch of his life?” I asked, willing her to take this shit seriously. “He’s still in the ICU with his brain bleedin’.”
“You don’t even know that was my dad!”
I just looked at her as it finally sunk in.
She was trying so hard to maintain that the life she’d led, with the white picket fence and strict parents, was the only truth, that she was refusing to see what was right in front of her.
It wasn’t that she was na?ve, or stupid, or in shock.
She just couldn’t reconcile what she’d always known with the hard truth that had been presented to her.
“Let’s table all that for a minute,” I said tiredly.
“Table it,” she replied dubiously.
“You’re havin’ my baby,” I said quietly, reaching out to put my hand on her belly. I half expected her to push my hand away, but she didn’t. She sat frozen in place while I spread my fingers wide, my palm pressed against the roundness.
“I would’ve told you,” she said, looking down at my hand. “When I could. I would’ve told you.”
“Yeah?” I was barely paying attention.
There was a little person in there. My person. How the fuck had that happened?
“I didn’t have your phone number,” she mumbled sheepishly. “But once I was back in town, I would’ve found a way to contact you.”
“I went to the garden center,” I blurted, taking my eyes off her belly but leaving my hand where it was. “Saw your brother.”
“You saw Ephraim? What did he say?”
“I was lookin’ for you,” I clarified in case she hadn’t realized. “But I didn’t ask for you because I didn’t want to get you in trouble.”
She let out a hoarse laugh and her belly jerked under my hand.
“I don’t think you could’ve gotten me in any more trouble than I was already in,” she said wryly.
“About that—”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“I used a condom.”
We were speaking over each other and both came to an abrupt halt.
“I remember,” she replied simply.
“I didn’t want you to think that I wasn’t careful—” I continued on. Suddenly it was really important that she knew. “—that I didn’t try to protect you. I did.”
“I know.” She shrugged. “I guess God had different plans.”
“God, huh?” I asked, reluctantly pulling my hand away.
“Yes.”
“I can’t believe we’re going to have a kid.”
“Give it a couple days to sink in,” she advised seriously. “It took at least a month for me to absorb it.”
“A month?”
“Well, we’d only done it once,” she said in exasperation, widening her eyes.
“It only takes once.”
“Clearly.”
“And you didn’t even come,” I blurted, the memory popping up like a jack-in-the-box in my mind. I scowled. “And then you lied about it!”
Esther’s face turned about five different shades of red. It was fascinating.
“It was embarrassing.”
I jerked back in surprise. “Why the hell would you be embarrassed?”
“Well, because you clearly thought that I should’ve and I hadn’t, so—”
“You didn’t come because I’m a fuckin’ moron,” I said with a humorless laugh.
“I thought maybe—”
“Nope.” I put my hand up to cut her off. “If a woman doesn’t come, then you adjust. You take more time. You pay attention. You work together to make it happen. If you don’t do that, you’re selfish or lazy.”
Esther sat silently for a few moments before replying. “Which one were you?”
I choked and laughed as a little smile played at the corners of her mouth.
“I was drunk,” I replied sheepishly, reaching up to rub the back of my neck where the migraine was still threatening to ruin my day. “And an idiot.”
“I didn’t realize that,” she said softly.
“Whatever you’re thinkin’,” I barked, watching emotions race across her face. “Quit it. I knew exactly what I was doin’. I was just clearly too drunk to do it right.”
“But I was sober,” she pointed out.
“Thank Christ,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Listen, I’m sorry for how it all went down. All of it. You deserved better than gettin’ railed in the front seat of my Mustang.”
“Railed?” she said faintly.
“Poor choice of words,” I muttered. “You deserved better than losing your virginity at a party, alright? You deserved better than findin’ out you were pregnant and not knowin’ how to get ahold of me.
You sure as shit deserved better than bein’ shipped out to some cabin in the woods with no electricity. ”
“I wasn’t exactly a spectator during all of that,” she reminded me, grimacing. “I was the one who started it by showing off my hair. I told you I wanted you to kiss me, remember?”
I laughed silently and shook my head. “If my family heard you say that about your hair, I’d never hear the end of it.”
“What? Why?”
“I knew what I was doin’,” I continued, ignoring the questions. “You didn’t. I knew where it was headed and you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did,” she argued.
“Bullshit.”
“I did. I knew that we were going to do it.”
“Do it?”
“Have sex. Rail each other.”
I damn near choked on my tongue. “Uh, you’re usin’ that phrase wrong.”
Esther glared. “I’m not stupid,” she said stubbornly. “I knew what we were doing.”
“Sure,” I said, nodding. I was trying to agree with her because of course I didn’t think she was stupid, but it must have come across as condescending because Esther actually growled.
“I’m not a child,” she hissed, getting to her feet. “I may not know all the slang words for having sex, but that doesn’t mean I’m an idiot.”
“I don’t think you’re an idiot.”
“No, just na?ve, right? Innocent? Immature?”
“I didn’t say—”
“I’m an adult,” she said through gritted teeth. “I chose to have sex with you because it felt good and it was exciting and—” She threw her hands in the air. By that time she was practically ranting and I settled in to watch the show. “You’re beautiful!”
“Say what?” I yelped. She ignored me.
“And I knew that I wasn’t going to have that chance again, okay?
So, stop treating me like poor little na?ve Esther who didn’t know what she was doing.
” She was breathing heavy, her hands on her hips and her eyes sparking.
“I knew what I was doing. I just didn’t anticipate these particular consequences. ”
“You’re sayin’ you want me to take off the gloves?”
“I’m not super clear on that reference,” she muttered, her shoulders sagging. “But, yeah. Pretty much.”
I stared at her. At some point during her tirade she’d gotten warm enough to unzip her jacket and the dress underneath was stained and worn.
She was wearing rubber boots that almost reached her knees, and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail.
She looked like a waif. A sad little orphan girl.
Until I looked at her face. The stubborn set of her jaw and the way she looked at me like she was daring me to say something gentle and calming was pretty shocking.
I had never seen Esther look anything but sweet and accommodating. Fucking pleasant.
No, that wasn’t true. I’d gotten a glimpse of that stubbornness when she’d chopped wood to prove Rumi wrong. My palms grew clammy as I thought of her striding around the cabin, not knowing that she was one spark away from being blown to pieces. That was what finally made my decision for me.
“Alright, here’s how it’s gonna go,” I said firmly, getting to my feet. I’d let her have the high ground and talk down to me when she’d clearly needed it, but if she wanted bare knuckles, then that’s what I’d give her. “You’re not goin’ back to your parents.”
“But—”
“You had your turn to talk,” I said, cutting her off. “Now it’s my turn.”
Her mouth snapped shut.
“You’re movin’ in with me, and we’re gettin’ married. We’re havin’ a baby and we’re gonna be livin’ in the same house. I’m bettin’ you don’t wanna do that without a ring on your finger. Alright with me. I’ll get you one.”
“What?” she breathed, staring at me like I’d grown two heads.
“You got someone else you were hopin’ for?” I asked, the question burned through me but I had to ask. “You have a boyfriend?”
Esther scoffed and planted her hands back on her hips. “If I had a boyfriend do you really think we would’ve railed?”
“Sugar, that is not how you use railed in a sentence.”
“I don’t care!”
“You wanna wear a white dress?” I asked, still bulldozing forward.
She plopped back onto the bed and stared wide-eyed at me. “Where is this coming from?”
“You’re already halfway through the pregnancy,” I said, lowering my voice a little. “You really wanna wait?”
“We don’t even know each other.”
“We’ll get to know each other.”
“After we’re married?”
Now it felt weird to be looming over her so I sat down beside her instead. Reaching out, I pulled her hand away from her lap and laced her fingers with mine.
“Is that any different from what you would’ve gotten before?” I asked softly.
She jerked as if I’d slapped her.
“I’m not tryin’ to hurt your feelings, sugar,” I said, tightening my hand around hers when she tried to pull away.
“I’m just sayin’ that those marriages work for the people you know, right?
I’d say we have a better reason than most for gettin’ married.
I won’t ever hit you. I won’t control what you’re doin’ or make you do anythin’ you don’t wanna do. ”
“Why would you even suggest this?” she asked, her eyes filling with tears. “Why would you want to get married?”
I debated telling her I loved her, but I knew she’d laugh in my face. I thought about using the baby, saying that it deserved to be born to married parents—but I couldn’t quite choke that out.
In the end, I just told her the truth—or as much truth as I was willing to admit.
“Marriage is the best way I can protect you and our baby,” I said simply.