41. Jonah
41
JONAH
“How are you feeling?”
I look at Claire and raise my eyebrows, then nod to my rapidly bouncing leg.
“I’m so fucking nervous I might explode.” Claire laughs and squeezes my hand. “Can’t they make it a little warmer in here, though?”
“I know, right? It’s always so cold.”
“It’s been like this every time?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll go get someone to turn the heat up.”
I spring from my chair, but she grabs my arm, stopping me. “Sit down. It’s fine.”
I sit like she asked, then reach in my pocket for my gum. I pop a piece in my mouth and chew. It’s a piss-poor substitute for smoking, especially in moments like this. A few months ago, I’d have needed a pack of cigarettes and a trusty prescription cocktail just to get through it. Now, I’m relying on gum and willpower.
Sobriety is fucking hard. It gives me more respect for Sav. Everything is still so raw that even the smallest things feel huge at first. I made it through the first ninety days, though, and I’m proud of that. I didn’t even try the first time around. They tell you the first ninety days are the hardest part, but that doesn’t mean that the rest is a walk in the park.
Just one day at a fucking time. One foot in front of the other. Bit by bit, building a new normal. I inhale and exhale, chew on my gum, and shove my hand under my thigh so I don’t pick at my thumb. Then I smile. It’s going to stick this time.
“Oh, can I have a piece?”
Claire reaches her hand out, pulling me from my thoughts, but I shake my head.
“Nah, not this. It’s nicotine gum.”
“Nicotine gum? Why?”
“Smoking is bad for you and the baby.”
Her brows shoot up. “You quit smoking for me and the baby?”
I almost want to laugh at the disbelief in her tone, but it makes my chest tighten with sadness. I hope that someday she can see herself the way I do. I lean in close and take her hand.
“There isn’t a fucking thing on Earth that I wouldn’t do for you.”
She gazes at me, eyes bouncing between mine, searching. Always searching. It’s automatic for her. To look for the lie. To prepare for pain. She still doesn’t feel worthy of love. It’s going to take a while to heal that part of her, but I’m here for the long haul, and I’ll make sure she sees how sincere I am.
“Not a fucking thing,” I say again before kissing her knuckles.
She smiles and nods, and it will have to be enough for now.
We break apart when someone knocks on the door, and the doctor walks in. She says hello to Claire, looks at me with a smile, and then her eyes flare wide. She recognizes me, and apparently, it’s caught her off guard enough that whatever she was going to say has left her.
“Oh, I’m sorry. This is Jonah. He’s the baby’s father.”
“Jonah Hendrix.” I stick my hand out for the doctor to shake. “I’m Claire’s boyfriend.”
I hear Claire’s breath hitch, so I send her a smirk and mouth the word again— Boyfriend —making her blush. I grin and look back at the doctor. “It’s nice to meet you.”
By then, the doc has regained her composure and continues like nothing happened. She asks Claire questions. How she’s been feeling. Any concerns or new symptoms. Any questions today, et cetera. When she’s determined all is well, she leaves and sends the ultrasound technician in.
My leg starts bouncing again, and Claire reaches over and takes my hand. We share a smile, then the tech gets to work. She squirts a blue gel on Claire’s stomach, positions a wand-type thing on the gel, and then there is a sound that resembles a heartbeat. I heard it once on the video that Mabel took, but this is closer. More real. It gives me goosebumps.
“Is that what I think it is?” I look between Claire and the tech. “Is that the heartbeat?”
“That’s right. A healthy heartbeat.”
I can’t contain my smile. I don’t think I can smile any bigger. But then something comes on the screen, and my own pulse speeds up.
“Is that...?”
“That’s your baby.”
I look at Claire and find her smiling at me.
“That’s our baby,” I whisper, then my eyes are pulled back to the screen as the tech speaks.
“I’m just going to be taking some measurements and pictures, but let’s get you a good profile image first.”
I’m in awe. She moves the wand, giving us a side view of the baby, and I can see a little nose and mouth. Arms and legs. The tech points everything out as she measures it, and I can’t look away. I just run my thumb back and forth over Claire’s hand and try my best to commit all of this to memory.
I’m overwhelmed with emotions. They fill me up until I swear I’ll burst. Sobriety means I’m not numb anymore. These emotions aren’t dulled. Reality isn’t foggy.
I feel everything , and I’m grateful for it.
“Do you want to know the sex?”
I whip my head to Claire, and she nods. “It’s up to you. I scheduled this one so you’d be here for it.”
I answer immediately. “Yes. Yes, we do.”
I can’t wait. I’m too excited. I want to know now.
The tech moves the wand around and then smiles. “You’re having a little baby girl.”
“A girl.” Tears fill my eyes and stream down my cheeks. I look at Claire. “We’re having a little girl.”
“Our little girl.”
I bring her hand to my lips and kiss it. “A little baby Trouble. My favorite girls.”
After the appointment, we’re given some ultrasound images, and Claire is scheduled for another appointment in a few weeks. The doc discusses some routine tests, then talks about what to expect as Claire gets closer to the third trimester.
That catches my attention, and as soon as we’re in the car, I bring it up.
“When’s that start? The third trimester?”
“Twenty-eight weeks.”
“And pregnancy is forty weeks?”
“Yep. Usually about that.”
I do some mental math and then it hits me. “We’re halfway.”
Claire smiles. “Yeah, we are.” She puts a hand on her stomach. “Baby girl will be here before we know it.”
The excitement that bubbles up inside of me is almost unbearable, and instead of driving home, I call José and ask if he can meet us at the nearest store that sells baby stuff.
“What are we doing?”
I program the GPS, then wink at her. “We’re going shopping for our baby, baby. We’ve got a nursery to fill.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket as I’m folding tiny baby clothes and setting them neatly in a brand-new handcrafted dresser.
I had it custom-made. Little queen and king chess pieces are carved into each drawer, and the knobs are shaped like pawns. Claire got misty-eyed when it was delivered, so I’m pretty proud of it.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and sigh when I see the caller ID.
Conrad Henderson.
Of course.
I knew it’d been too quiet for too long. My father never relinquishes control without a fight, and with both Claire and me disappearing, it was only a matter of time before he reached out.
I silence the call, then peek into our bedroom. Claire is still fast asleep, so I pull the door closed and head down to the pool deck. I don’t want to wake her, especially not for this. She needs her rest. Growing a human is hard work .
Once the glass door is closed behind me, I call my dad back. He answers on the first ring.
“Jonah.”
“Conrad. You called?”
“I’m Conrad now?”
“That’s your name.”
My father huffs, perpetually annoyed by me. “I’ll cut to the chase. You have to cut ties with that woman.”
I shake my head. “Yeah, okay, Conrad. If that’s all you wanted?—”
“Jonah, she is a pariah in this city, so she’s latched on to you for financial stability.”
I close my eyes and breathe, wishing I had a pack of cigarettes. Instead, I reach into my pocket, pull out some fucking gum, and pretend it does the trick.
“I bet that baby isn’t even yours, and now you’re all over the tabloids with her. They’ll make a mockery of our family when they find out she’s made a cuckold out of you.”
I snort a laugh. “A cuckold? Really.”
“This isn’t some joke, Jonah. This is serious.”
I drag a hand down my face and pinch the bridge of my nose. I was over this conversation before it began, but it has to be had. My therapist will be so proud.
“Look, I’m not some stupid, na?ve child anymore. I know you have zero interest in my well-being or my reputation. You never cared what stories were printed about me until the mausoleum, and that was only because that shit would have tied me to you. That’s the only reason you didn’t press charges, too. It wasn’t because you didn’t want me to go to prison. It was because the whole thing would reflect poorly on you. You’ve successfully kept your youngest son a secret for over a decade. How dare I come in and try to fuck it all up, right?”
My father grumbles. “Jonah, this is completely unnecessary.”
I can practically see his patronizing expression. He feels zero shame for any of the truths I just laid out. He thinks I’m wasting his time. I sigh.
“The only reason you’re concerned about my relationship with Claire is because you don’t want people to learn of your relationship with her. If I were having a child with a random groupie, you wouldn’t care. You only care because if it gets out that you dated her, it could make you look bad.”
“You don’t think it would make you look bad?”
“If you think I care about what the media thinks of me, you’re an idiot.”
“What about your record label? The morality clause. If you get more bad press?—”
“We’re out of our contract. Have been since the last Warsaw show. It just hasn’t become public knowledge.”
Likely because the label doesn’t want to be humiliated, but I don’t really care. Right now, all people care about is the romantic little love story they’ve created, circulating my rest and recovery stay at Tranquil Waters and my girlfriend’s cute little belly bump.
I smile.
My girlfriend.
My smile disappears when I realize my father has fallen silent. I roll my eyes.
“I know it’s hard for you to hear that there is literally nothing you can hold over either of our heads, but I think you need to sit with that discomfort. Embrace it. This is real life, Conrad. You can’t manipulate everyone to get what you want.”
“That is not what I’m doing. I am looking out for both of us.”
His barked, defensive tone says otherwise. I have to stifle a laugh.
“Look. I’m going to put you out of your misery so you can go back to your self-absorbed life fucking new hires to feed your ego, hoarding your millions while underpaying your employees, and building yourself up by putting others down, okay? We want nothing from you. I never have. My name is Hendrix. My daughter’s name will be Hendrix. And when I marry Claire, her name will be Hendrix. You don’t have to lose sleep over it anymore, because as far as we’re concerned, you don’t exist, so you can go back to acting like I don’t exist either. Is that clear?”
He’s quiet for a moment before clearing his throat and once again saying something that doesn’t surprise me.
“I want it in writing that you relinquish any claim you have to the Henderson fortune and business.”
This time, I don’t bother hiding my laughter .
“Because you want to be buried with it? It’s not like you have any kids or grandkids to carry on your legacy.”
“Jonah—”
“I don’t want your money, Conrad. I don’t want your business empire. I’ve already said I want nothing from you. If you’re okay having that paper trail, have your lawyers draw up a contract and send it over. I’ll sign it, and you never have to hear from me again.”
“Consider it done.”
He hangs up without saying goodbye, and though I know it’s likely the last time I’ll ever hear my father’s voice, I can’t find even a sliver of sadness. I laugh and push my phone back into my pocket. What a relief.
I head back upstairs, check on Claire once more, then finish with the baby clothes. I can’t get over how tiny they are. The size of my forearm, and every time I fold one, I picture our daughter in it.
I keep wanting to pinch myself. I can’t get over how lucky I am. My life was on a very different trajectory. I was destined for destruction, and I didn’t care.
I could have died and never known this kind of happiness.
What if they couldn’t revive me after the overdose? What if Sav had never sent me to rehab the first time? What if I’d never toned down my drug use so I wouldn’t get caught again?
Fuck .
What if she’d never dated my father, and he’d never sent her to be my babysitter?
Anything, any split-second decision, could have kept me from her. Just the thought overwhelms me with an onslaught of raw, visceral emotions.
Grief for what I could have lost. Anger for how stupid I’d been. Determination to never fuck it up again.
For years, I let my wrath and self-loathing fuel my every move. I hurt people. I said and did terrible things. I pushed myself to the brink of death over and over. I’m not proud of the person I was, but it was that chaotic maelstrom of mistakes that lead me to her, so I can’t regret it entirely. All I can do is vow to be better moving forward. To spend every day earning her love, earning this happiness, and to never take any of it for granted.
I smile .
From struggle to strength.
Fucking Tranquil Waters had it right. I’m definitely getting it tattooed on my neck.
When the last tiny onesie is folded in the dresser, I make my way to the bedroom.
I strip out of my clothes and climb into bed next to the woman I love. And just as I gently wrap my arms around her, she stirs awake.
“Go back to sleep,” I whisper into her hair.
Claire hums and turns in my arms, so she’s facing me.
“I had a dream.”
“A good dream or bad dream?”
“A good one.”
“Yeah? What was it about?”
Claire gives me a soft smile. “Names.”
I pull her closer, so her head is tucked under my chin, and I can feel her breath on my neck. I just want to touch her. I want to smell her.
“What have you come up with?”
She presses a kiss to my throat, right on my heart tattoo.
“What about Theodora? After your brother Theo. We could call her Teddy for short.”
The breath is pulled from my lungs, and my next exhale is shaky. I’m once again blinking against the sting of tears. I hadn’t cried in years before breaking into that mausoleum. Now, I can’t seem to stop. The difference now is they’ve been tears of happiness. Not anger. Not dread or despair. Just happiness. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it.
“Really? You don’t think it’s too old-fashioned?”
“No. If you like it, then I think it’s perfect.”
I force a swallow. “I love it.”
She presses another kiss to my throat before pulling back just enough to kiss my lips.
“I love you.”
I smile, finally letting the tears roll down my cheeks.
“I love you, Trouble. Endlessly.”