Chapter 5
SAGE
I let Fiona ramble on the short drive into the downtown area of the small town she’s living in. She said we could’ve walked easily enough, but by driving she was able to give me the scenic tour of the adorable little town she’s lived in for the last few years.
I can tell she’s trying to win me over, to convince me these tree-lined streets, the smell of the nearby ocean, and the legit town square, gazebo and all, are where I want to stay.
“The next town over, Cedar Creek, is just as cute. It’s kind of tucked against the mountain a bit, so no ocean, but there are a ton of boutique stores and a fifties diner that has the best food.”
I nod again, so she knows I’m listening as I stare out the window. It is beautiful here, there's no doubt about it. I’ve always loved being close to the ocean, and Vancouver Island has the perfect blend of ocean, mountain, and open space.
Having seen most of the country, I can honestly say this is the prettiest part of Canada I’ve been to.
Eventually, the driving tour comes to an end and we pull up in front of a bakery right on the edge of the town square, with a cartoon muffin on the front. “The Nutty Muffin?” I say as we get out of her car and walk to the door.
“Yep. Trust me, those nutty muffins? Best thing you’ve ever tasted.”
We push open the door and I’m hit with the deliciously decadent aroma of fresh coffee and baked goods. My earlier frustration is forgotten with the anticipation of a tasty treat.
“Oh, heck yes,” I say to Fiona as we make our way to the counter. “I want everything.”
As soon as we have our orders, an herbal tea for me, and coffee for Fiona, along with two plates piled with pastries, we find an empty pair of chairs against one wall.
Fiona picks up what looks to be a community newspaper and starts scanning it. I honestly didn’t realize there were towns that still had those.
I’m taking my first sip of tea when she flips the page. A photo of two baseball players standing with a kid between them faces me.
Peppermint tea sprays everywhere.
“Oh my God, Sage! What’s wrong?” Fiona cries.
With shaking hands, I set down my cup and point. “Who…what…can I see that, please?”
She looks from me to the newspaper, then back to me, completely confused. “The paper?”
I snatch it from her and look closer. Holy shit. It’s him.
Brady Dixon and Cal Prescott, players for the Cedar Creek Thunder, spent the day with players from the local Little League…
Brady Dixon.
Turning it around, I put it on the table in front of Fiona and point at the photo.
“That’s my Brady.”
Her mouth falls open as she looks at the photo, then back to me. Slowly, a wide, altogether too triumphant smirk covers her face.
I shake my head and point at her. “Oh no, you don’t get to try and tell me this was all part of your master plan. This is just a wild, crazy coincidence.”
Pretending to dust her knuckles on her shirt, Fiona just smiles.
“Sure. Coincidence, fate, whatever you want to call it.” Her face softens into a more earnest expression as she reaches over and covers my hand in hers.
“But you have to admit, things happen for a reason. And sometimes one plan falls apart because something so much better is coming.”
“I can’t tell if you’re talking about England falling apart because I’m pregnant, or your internet search falling apart because I was hungry,” I say dryly, even as my pulse speeds up.
It’s hard to believe this is happening. That Brady is so close by, purely by coincidence. And that I’d see a photo of him the day after arriving on the same damn island as him.
A part of me worries it’s too good to be true—just like I worry he’ll turn out to be the same.
Then I glance back at the photo of him staring back at me. At his strong jawline, with that contrastingly soft smile.
I wanted to be able to tell my child that I at least tried to find their dad. But the memory of Brady's warm eyes and how heated they became when we were together is something I haven't let myself think too much about in all this. And it lends a different kind of urgency to my desire to find him.
I don't just want to be able to tell my child about their dad. I want to tell their dad he's having a child.
“Okay, so how are we going to handle this? We know who he is now, but it’s not like phone books exist anymore. I guess now that we have a name, I can try internet sleuthing again.”
I shake my head. “He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to have a big online presence.”
“Sage, honey, you spent what, maybe twelve hours with him, and most of those you were fucking. You really think you know him well enough to know how he feels about social media?”
She’s got a point, but I can’t shake it, this instinct that Brady’s too private of a person for that.
“Alright, well.” Fiona takes the newspaper from me and scans the article. “It says their home opener is on Sunday, but tickets are sold out. Hmm, I wonder if we could still get seats if we just show up.”
“No, I don’t want to confront him before a big game like that. I’ll just go to the stadium Monday morning and ask around.”
Fiona looks at me skeptically. “You really think they’re just going to hand out the contact info for one of their players? You need a better plan than that.”
I tear at the chocolate croissant on the plate in front of me. “I’ll figure it out. Maybe I can leave him a note.”
“A note. What will it say? Hey Brady, long time no see, I’m pregnant with your baby?”
I throw the piece of croissant in my hand at her, and somehow she catches it in her mouth.
“I said, I’ll figure it out.”
And I will. I have to. For my baby’s sake.
For his baby’s sake.