Chapter 8
Ihear the groaning before I even open my eyes.
Within moments, I find Lauren sitting on the bathroom floor, hovering over the toilet.
Her eyes are closed, hair a mess, and the light is off.
I take out my hair tie and pull her hair back with it instead.
Then I grab a towel, soak it in cool water and hand it to her as I join her on the floor.
“When does this part get better?” Her voice is small and unsteady.
“Once I was out of my first trimester with Win, it got better. Do you have any idea how far along you are?”
She shakes her head. “Not far, four or five weeks maybe? My period is never consistent.”
When I found out I was pregnant with Winnie, Ethan and I hadn’t even been official. He said things were better casual. Even though he had already met my family. Even though I had been loyal to him like he asked. Even though I spent most nights in his bed.
Then, suddenly, things weren’t casual. I was standing in my college apartment bathroom, alone, with the double lines on every test I took.
All I could think was that I was scared to tell Ethan because I knew he would be mad.
And he was. Mad that I wanted to keep the baby.
Mad that this meant commitment he wasn’t ready for.
His parents insisted we get married to spare the law firm the bad press and Ethan, if anything, is loyal to that damn firm.
Now, however, when I look at Lauren and Rhett, I don’t see the same scared kids backed into a corner. These two are planning their life together anyway. This pregnancy is a happy surprise. They have so much more ahead of them than those lonely nights I faced with a newborn and absent husband.
Lauren retches again before resting back against the wall.
“You alright?” Rhett stands in the doorway.
“This is your fault,” Lauren croaks, keeping her eyes closed.
“What’s his fault?” Now Winnie appears at Rhett’s side.
“Nothing,” I tell her. “Aunt Laurey just isn’t feeling very good.”
“You know.” Lauren looks up at me. “You would be a good nurse.”
“Absolutely not.” I shake my head. “Blood is not my thing.”
“Mommy we all have blood,” Winnie informs me.
“And doesn’t being a parent involve blood?” Rhett asks.
“Ethan usually took care of it.” Now this makes Lauren raise her eyebrows.
It’s a fair reaction. When you think of apathetic parents, my mom doesn’t even compare to Ethan. That man would have rather sat locked in his office on hushed phone calls rather than spend a dinner with his wife and daughter at the kitchen table.
But when it came to blood, if he was around, he thrived.
I always joked he would have made a great doctor.
Seeing people in pain never really phased him.
It had only been a few times, like Winnie falling off her scooter, or when I cut my finger with a knife.
He would talk slow and quiet, quick to calm both of our nerves.
It was one of the things that gave me hope that we might be okay.
That maybe compassion lurked somewhere beneath his hard surface.
When I cut my finger, he had me sit on the counter, and he was still tall enough that he looked down at me. He then washed and bandaged it. I had run my fingers through his hair then, and I don’t know if it was some act of love, or desperation to have an ounce of intimacy, but I gave in.
The cut was superficial and so was that night.
The next morning, I realized he had slipped from our bed while I slept.
He didn’t come home until later, smelling of the other woman’s rose perfume.
The cut never even left a scar. And the relief I had when my next period came was unbelievable.
I wept in relief, opposite to the way I wept alone with a positive pregnancy test just a couple years before.
“How about I take Winnie to go get breakfast, I’ll bring you guys something back?” Rhett offers.
Before either of us can respond, Lauren leans for the toilet again and Rhett whisks Winnie away.
Growing up, Mom didn’t handle sickness very well.
Stuffy nose, upset stomachs, puking, any of it.
So, I usually was the one left to care for Lauren when she got whatever illness was going around at school.
Or left to search for my own washcloth and hair tie when I inevitably caught it too.
Mom would throw a can of chicken noodle soup into a pot sometimes, but it was usually just Lauren and I figuring it out and we preferred SpaghettiOs anyway.
One time, Lauren had gotten sick at school, and Mom picked us both up so she wouldn’t have to come back and get me later.
She then dropped us off at home and went back to work.
I didn’t know what to do to make Lauren feel better, but I always liked it when my teacher read books to us.
So, I dug through the few books on my bookshelf and found one I knew by heart.
One where I wouldn’t crisscross the letters and words on the page.
Where The Wild Things Are. At the end of kindergarten, Mrs. Zimmerman must have realized I grew attached to it and gave me her copy of it.
Mom had tried to donate it when I was got a little older, but I snagged it back out of the donation box from the back of her car and it’s the same one packed in Winnie’s bag now.
Now, much like then, I get Lauren in the shower, then into the clean clothes that Rhett left out for her and get her on the couch with some saltine crackers and that ginger-ale Rhett’s mom swore by.
I start a load of laundry and clean up the kitchen while Lauren manages to get on her computer and get some writing done for an entire thirty minutes before getting sick again.
“Surely I'm having a boy,” she calls from the bathroom. “A girl would never make me this sick.”
“You’d be surprised,” I tell her. “I ended up losing weight in my pregnancy because of how sick I was.”
Lauren’s eyes widen. “That isn’t helping.”
“I'm just saying. A girl could absolutely make you this sick. Being sick is kinda just a part of this.”
“Rhett is convinced it’s a girl. He refers to the baby as her and she, and is talking about painting the spare room pink and making it a girly Where The Wild Things Are theme, whatever that means.”
“I was sure I was having a boy. Ethan had only warmed up to the idea of having a baby because he wanted a boy. So, I think I convinced us both to believe it was a boy to keep him happy.”
“Fuck Ethan.” She cuddles deeper into the couch, pulling the blanket up over her shoulders. “I know he’s Winnie's dad, but like, damn. I hate that guy.”
I wish I hated him. It would make it so much easier. But Lauren’s right. He is Winnie’s dad. How can I fully hate someone who gave me the greatest thing in my life?
Almost two hours later, Rhett and Winnie arrive home with a trunk full of groceries. Winnie struggles carrying the couple of bags she has, and Rhett carries the rest in one trip.
“Win, did you wear your pajamas to breakfast and to the store?”
She smiles and shrugs.
“Well then. How was breakfast?” I wipe the smudge of food off her cheek.
“We saw Tan.” Winnie giggles, almost blushing. “He says hi.”
“Oh, did he?” Lauren asks her with a laugh from her spot on the couch.
Winnie nods and goes over to the bags and shuffles through them until she finds a bottle of water and brings it over. “He said to drink this and be careful to not get a family for speeding.”
“Felony,” Rhett corrects with a guilty grin. “We got you guys carryout from the diner on the way home so it would be hot.”
“What else did you get at the store?” Lauren asks. “I usually don’t let Uncle Rhett go by himself. He always gets into trouble there.”
“Trouble?” Winnie asks. “Like a felony?”
“No. He just brings home too much stuff.”
“Well.” Rhett ruffles Winnie’s hair. “The kid and I were on a mission. We got just what we needed.”
“Like chocolate milk and Oreos.”
Lauren’s eyebrows raise but she smiles anyway.
“How are you feeling babe?” Rhett comes over and kisses her on the head.
“A little better. How was Tanner?”
I roll my eyes and help unload the bags of food.
“He was good. He said the apartment above the bookstore is still available. Fully furnished.”
I glance over at Winnie who has cuddled up under Lauren’s arm now.
“You can go swing by and look at it,” Rhett directs over to me. “Dollie said now would be a good time and we can watch Winnie for a little bit.”
I almost forgot Lauren asked me to stay.
Though she offered for me to stay at the cabin, I remember those early pregnancy days when you want to do nothing other than start setting up the nursery.
It was all I focused on. I was keeping myself busy by obsessing over the nursery being perfect.
The first house was a law school graduation gift for Ethan.
His parents made it clear that it was his gift by putting the deed only in his name.
When he wanted to sell it and build something custom, Paul made sure we got my name on the new deed incase anything happened.
I spent those late nights while he was working just decorating the nursery. It was really the only room he was okay with me doing anything to, so I painted it myself, moved the furniture myself, sat in the rocking chair feeling the baby kick myself.
Now, Rhett and Lauren’s cabin only has one spare room and Winnie and I are sleeping in it. So, if I stay for the summer, I need my own place.
“I’ll go look,” I cave. “But I'm not making any promises.”
The front door nudges open and in comes Rhett’s dad’s golden retriever.
“Storm, come here baby!” Lauren calls her like it isn’t at all weird that a dog just strolled right into her house.
Winnie pats the dogs head as she climbs up between her and Lauren, and I take the time to slip away.
If I stay for the summer, I will have to set some rules with Tanner.
I don’t want me staying to give either of us false hope.
I want it to be clear that we are just friends and my purpose of being here is to support Lauren and Rhett.
Not to fall for some golden-haired, kind-eyed man. No matter how good he is to me.