33. Lydia
33
LYDIA
“ I t is not supposed to be this cold,” I said through chattering teeth. I reached up and yanked down a festive garland.
“I blame everyone who ever sang that song, wanting snow at Christmas,” Evie complained.
“Snow at Christmas is pretty,” I said.
“Pretty, yes, but this is inconvenient and cold,” Evie said as she yanked and pulled on the decorations. A long paper garland unfurled and fell to the ground. “We’re almost done. Hurry up.”
I began gathering all the paper decorations into a mass of nothing more than garbage.
A car door slammed shut somewhere behind me, and then an all too familiar voice called out, “Lydia, what do you think you’re doing?”
I turned and stared. “Miles?”
He stormed through the snow up to the front of the library.
“I think it’s fairly obvious what I’m doing,” I said. “The real question here is, what the hell are you doing in Brookdale?”
He reached out and took the once festive Christmas decorations from me.
“I’m here for you,” he said. “It’s entirely too cold. You should be inside.”
“For once, I have to agree with that man,” Evie said.
“Since you’re here, you might as well make yourself useful,” I said as I pointed up to a row of oversized Christmas ornaments that were just beyond reach.
I was too cold to acknowledge the twisting in my insides. I brushed it off as the baby was being annoyed with me. Miles was here, and I needed his help. I would worry about the rest of it later—like when I was inside and could feel my toes.
Miles set down the sodden mass he had taken from my arms and used his considerable height and arm length to pull down the last three decorative elements.
Evie grabbed everything from him and headed inside. I followed her and picked up everything I could from the ground.
“We had to cancel the festival at the last minute because of the stupid storm that’s coming in,” I told Miles as I brushed past him and stepped into the foyer.
“Is that what you were doing?”
“Yes, that’s what we were doing. That doesn’t explain what you are doing.” I pointed at him. “Why are you out driving around in another snowstorm? I thought you were supposed to be smarter than this,” I sneered.
“It seems that fate wants me in Brookdale every time there’s a snowstorm.”
“Well, fate has a very sick sense of humor,” I said. “I suppose you need a place to stay?”
“Look, Lydia, I came back for you.”
“No, Miles. You came back so that you could make yourself feel better about something. The last time, you wanted me to say that the baby wasn’t yours. What do you want me to say this time?”
“I know the baby’s mine,” he said.
I paused and slowly turned to look at him. “What did you say?”
“I know the baby is mine. I was being stupid before,” he admitted.
“You can say that again,” Evie announced as she came to take the rest of the garbage from me.
Miles closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath. “I admit it. I’ve made mistakes, but I don’t want you to be one of them.”
My insides flipped. I pressed the heel of my palm into my side.
“You might be a little too late for that one, Carlisle,” Evie said.
“Look, I know we got off on the wrong foot…” Miles lifted his hand toward Evie.
“You came into this town and acted like it was some kind of good idea that you were saving us from ourselves. I don’t think so.” She turned on her heel and went into the library to get rid of the rest of the trash.
Evie had never liked him, and I didn’t think she was about to change her mind now.
I reached out and grabbed his forearm. I tugged on him. “Fine, come on, let’s go back to the inn. We can discuss things there. I want to get home before I have to wade through too much snow.”
“I can drive,” he said.
I laughed. “No, thank you. I’m not going to let you drive me on slippery, icy roads, endangering everybody.”
“Fine, I’ll walk you back to the inn, and then I’ll come back for the car.”
“Bye, Evie. We’re leaving!” I called out after her.
“You keep warm. Okay? Hey, Lydia, do you need me to come with you?” Evie asked.
“We’ll be fine. There is a long conversation I need to have with this man,” I said.
“Make yourself some hot chocolate as soon as you get in. You’re going to be chilled to the bone.”
“I’m already chilled to the bone,” I admitted. We had spent the morning putting up the decorations for the festival as the temperature dropped around us. And when the snow started falling and the temperatures grew even colder, we had to take down the decorations.
I began wading through the ankle-deep snow back toward the inn.
“Lydia, get in the car,” Miles demanded.
“I thought we talked about this. I’m walking.”
He fell in step right behind me.
I gasped as a sharp pain skittered across my abdomen. I flinched and curled in on myself.
Miles caught my elbow. “What’s the matter?”
I let out a long breath. “Nothing. Just the kid letting me know that they weren’t too pleased with all the work I did today. Maybe that car ride wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”
I felt out of breath. I hadn’t exerted myself putting up or taking down the decorations. The hardest part about all of that had been the cold. Maybe the baby was complaining about being too cold. But the baby had the best insulation in town. The baby had me keeping it warm.
I followed Miles back to the large SUV and climbed in after he opened the door for me. He was behind the wheel and helping me with the seat belt before I could finish getting buckled.
“I’ve got this,” I said.
“I know you do. I just want to help.”
“It’s kind of too late for that, don’t you think?”
His eyes locked with mine, and it felt like he was looking deep into my soul.
“Please don’t say that. It’s never too late.”
A shiver danced down my spine, followed by another tightening in my gut. I let out a loud moan.
“Are you okay?”
“Maybe this is really bad gas,” I said as I pressed into the side of my stomach and leaned over. “It’ll pass in a minute, I’m sure.”
Except I couldn’t remember having gas so bad it made me double over in pain. The drive to the inn was short. And even though I could have walked it, I was glad that Miles was available to drive. The cramping in my stomach seemed to get worse.
He parked the SUV and started to get out. I didn’t want to move.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, give me a minute,” I said.
And then whatever it was that had caused my discomfort simply eased away. I let out a tentative breath, and everything seemed okay. I unlatched my seat belt and led him up into the lobby.
“I don’t feel like checking you into a room. Just take a key. Okay?” I said as I waved at the front desk.
“Lydia,” he said.
I stopped and turned around. “Look, Mile.” I pressed my hand in the side of my abdomen as I began to feel that pressure again. “I don’t want to fight with you, and you are not staying with me. Not after everything we’ve been through. I can’t.”
“I don’t expect you to,” he said. “I needed to let you know how sorry I am that I let things get out of control.”
“Then why did you? You could have stopped it at any time. Instead, you didn’t tell me who you were, and you didn’t stop your lawyer from sending me those horrible letters. I never asked you for anything.”
I felt the tears burn behind my eyes. I didn’t want to cry right now. I was tired. I was cold, and everything was aching. Crying would only make me feel worse.
“Ah,” I cried out as a cramp took over my entire abdomen.
“That didn’t sound good, Lydia.”
“That didn’t feel good,” I admitted.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. Feels like cramps or bad gas,” I said.
“Is it the baby?”
“I’m not due for another couple of weeks, and the doctor said I was probably gonna go to full term.”
I let out another agonizing groan.
“That definitely sounds like you are not going to last another couple of weeks.” Miles was by my side and guiding me to the couch. “Let’s get your jacket off. Get you comfortable.”
“Maybe it’s Braxton Hicks. The doctor said I could expect them.”
“What’s a Braxton Hicks?” Miles asked.
“From what I understand,” I started, “it’s kind of like practicing labor. The body’s just getting ready for what to do when it’s time to actually have contractions.”
“You’re having contractions?”
“I don’t think I am,” I admitted. “I don’t know. Could you get me a glass of cold water? Maybe that’ll help.”
“I’ll be right back.” Miles disappeared down the hall into the kitchen. Moments later, he was back, carrying a glass of water.
“You didn’t overdo it by setting up your festival?”
I accepted the glass and drank. The water felt good, soothing. I sat back and closed my eyes. I hoped that these false labor pains would fade away like a bad case of hiccups I wanted to be gone. I waited, and when there wasn’t another one when I expected it, I tentatively opened my eyes as if my vision was somehow connected to the entire process.
“I think I’m okay,” I said.