Chapter 26
Tessa
Seven and a Half Months Pregnant
I hear the panic in Fitz's voice, and it makes me panic.
“What's wrong?” I ask.
“I know you're coming to Loveland this afternoon. Any chance that's soon?”
I smile at my efficiency because I’ve already filed all my briefs, and I’ve been on the road for an hour. But the urgency in his voice worries me.
“As a matter of fact, I’ll be there before four. Why? You don’t sound good.”
“Well, I just got the final delivery from the baby store, and I’m just…I don't know what to do with half this shit, and it's made me realize that I'm in way over my head.”
My heart starts pounding. This is not what I want to hear from the man who's about to be a dad in under two months. I'm not sure if it's just the baby stuff that's overwhelming him or all of it. I prepare for the worst.
“Okay, sit tight. I'll be there as soon as I can. Maybe take Dolly out or something, get out of the house while I’m on the road?”
He sighs deeply. “Yeah, couldn’t hurt to walk away for a bit. Hopefully by the time you get here, I'll calm the fuck down.”
“Yes. Do that. Can I bring anything? Some herbal tea or something?”
“There isn’t room for herbal tea or anything else in here with all this baby stuff. Just come.”
How much baby stuff could there be? I don’t feel overwhelmed at my house, so I can’t imagine what has him so freaked out. Unless it’s…the idea of the baby itself.
“On my way. We'll go through everything, and hopefully we can sort things out,” I say, debating whether I should pick up something sweet for us to snack on. Sugar is always a good idea, and I’ve been craving donuts these past few weeks. But speed seems more important than sugar right now.
The afternoon couldn’t be prettier, deep blue sky and warm sun, but I’m anything but calm.
My mind spins out worrying about Fitz. I should put in a meditation podcast or just some nice music.
But instead, I drive in silence, white-knuckling the steering wheel and thinking about what it means if Fitz is this freaked out about baby gear.
Maybe this is all too much. Maybe he’s hit a breaking point and decided that he's not in this for the long haul.
I have to admit that a part of me has been waiting for this moment, where a cowboy boot dangles in the air, ready to drop.
And yet…the more I think about it, the more I realize I’m not worried about losing a child-rearing partner. I’m worried about losing him. Because I love him.
Against all my better instincts, I fell for the cowboy.
I hit the gas a little harder, my car’s erratic course matching the panic I feel, knowing I need to protect myself and my heart. Knowing that my growing feelings for Fitz will make retreating to our separate lives after the baby is born that much harder.
If he has cold feet, I want to know. I practically raised my sisters. I can do this by myself, and he can run his ranch and focus on his life. I will get over him. I'm good at making the best of things.
One more hour is too long to sit in my car in silence, so I call up Dylan.
“What's going on? Are you having the baby?” she asks, excitement and panic in her voice.
“Still a little soon for that. Just called to chat. Everything good?”
“Oh my god, you wouldn't believe it, this restaurant design project is a mess.
I don't know what I was thinking. Who knew we could spend an entire day talking about which shade of green makes people hungrier.” She continues with the design challenges of her bar-and-grill project and the stress of dealing with many people with differing opinions.
I try to talk her down, reminding her of how capable she is and that all her problems are solvable. “You’re still in charge. You need to guide them, instead of letting their confusion steamroll you.”
“You're right. You're right. You're totally right,” she says.
“Just take a deep breath.”
She inhales and exhales into the phone. “Okay, breathing. I'm so glad you called. You saved my bacon when I was about to lose my mind.”
“Of course. Tell me about all the shades of green, so I know what not to do when we pick colors for Loveland.”
“Oh, if you only knew.” I hear the smile in her voice.
Focusing on her helps me put my own worries and issues aside.
Fitz’s voice of reason in the back of my head reminds me that my sisters are grown up enough to take care of themselves.
I know I should stop letting everybody else's worries and problems become my own, but old habits die hard. Maybe I like being needed.
After I hang up with Dylan, I play a couple of Taylor Swift songs, hoping her take on relationships will put me in a better frame of mind. When that doesn’t work, I call Callie. She always has the most common sense.
“Hey, Mama,” she says. “How's the big, fat belly?” The clacking of computer keys tells me she’s multitasking.
I laugh. She's the only human who could call me fat without telling me I’m fat.
“The belly is fine. Thanks, Auntie.”
“Yeah, you still holding the line on not admitting if it’s a girl or a boy?”
“I'm not admitting it because I still don't know. There are so few surprises left in the world. This is going to be one of them.”
“Fine. So what's new? It sounds like you're driving. Going to see the cowboy?”
“Him, yes, and also Loveland.”
“That's the second time this week. The ranch doesn’t need that much love, but I’m betting Fitz does.” I sometimes regret how much I tell my sisters. I can’t do anything without someone asking about it.
“Funny.”
“I dunno, seems like maybe he's going to be more than just your baby daddy.”
“Don’t think so. He just called me in a panic, saying he can't do this.” I detail everything he said and hope that Callie can unhear some of the dread I imagined in his voice.
“What do you think he meant? Can’t do what?”
“I’m about to find out. It’s why I called you to distract me.”
“Do you really want to be distracted, or do you want to talk?” The computer tapping stops.
I smile even though she can’t see me. “Ha. Yeah. I guess you know me too well. I’m concerned. He hasn’t sounded this out of sorts before, and we’re only a half dozen weeks away. What do I do if he can’t handle it? Do I let him walk away without a fight?”
“Well, what do you want? Do you want to fight for him? Do you want him to be a part of your baby's life and yours?”
“I really do,” I say without hesitation. I don't want to let him go. At least not without trying to convince him that we’d make a good little family, even one that lives far apart.
“Then tell him that. Maybe this is just a blip. Everyone freaks out sometimes, even you,” she reminds me.
“True.” We talk for a few minutes more, and as expected, she knows exactly how to talk me down. Before long, I'm passing by Loveland Ranch on the way to Fitz's house. I find him sitting on the porch, swirling his iced tea in a glass, looking just as hot and handsome in the afternoon sun as always.
He saunters over and opens my car door, helping me out with a strong hand. “Good to see you, Duchess.”
“Not gonna lie, I used to find your chivalry charming, but with this baby beach ball hitting the steering wheel, I appreciate the assist.” I feel the familiar warmth when Fitz places his hand on my stomach.
His eyebrows arch as he holds his hand there expectantly. “No kicking?”
“I got plenty on the drive. Maybe now it’s nap time.”
He walks me to a chair on the porch. “Aw, sorry you got pummeled. Here. Have a seat.” He hands me a frosty glass of lemonade and paces in front of me instead of inviting me inside.
I take him in, noticing the untamed way he stomps around the porch like a horse in a small trailer. Shoving a hand in his hair, he shakes his head. The anguish is palpable.
My heart starts its erratic pounding again, waiting for the conversation I don’t want to have. I've been through enough breakups to know when someone is teeing up bad news.
“Just out with it, Fitz. What's bothering you?”
“You just got here after a long drive. Relax for a minute.”
I sit in silence while he continues to pace back and forth. He doesn't seem to want to talk, and I don't know what to say.
After I've drained the last of my lemonade, I put the glass down and look at him. “What's going on, Fitz? Do you have cold feet? If so, just tell me. Let’s talk about it.”
“No, Duchess, it's not that. Come on inside. I want you to see what has me all worked up.”
He opens the front door, interlaces his fingers with mine, and leads me through the house and out the back.
It takes me back to that one night when we stood on his back porch, looking over his beautiful ranch land, and I thought he was going to kiss me.
The night he told me that pregnancy made me even more beautiful.
My heart pangs at the memory, that first inkling of wanting something that I couldn't have. Today feels like yet another one of those. Maybe the last one.
He steers us down a hallway to a room at the end. “Baby’s room,” he grunts, pushing the door open.
I don’t know what I'm expecting. Boxes from the baby store? An overwhelming number of supplies made him panic?
Instead, I see strings of twinkle lights dancing across the ceiling.
The crib is fully assembled, and a mobile with plush elephants hangs over it.
A hand-painted mural covers an entire wall, depicting animated forest animals that match the color theme we picked.
The other walls are pale yellow, perfect for a girl or a boy.
On a glider in the corner sits an oversized stuffed teddy bear with a giant bow around
its neck that says, “Welcome home, sweet baby.”
I turn to him, my eyes moist. “I thought you were panicking because you didn't know what to do with all the baby gear.”
He shakes his head, a guilty smile on his face.
“Just messing with you a little, darlin’.”