3. Harmony
CHAPTER 3
Harmony
A s I’m leaving The SeaSong, my phone rings and I think for a brief second that it might be my mom. It happens to us a lot—us thinking about each other at the same time. But then I see his name on the screen asking me to accept the video call. My teeth are mashed so hard against each other just at the sight of his stupid picture on my phone. I can’t even say his name, or I’ll start crying and that will just piss me off further. He’s not worth the effort, I tell myself. I think part of me even knew that well before he broke it off with me for following my dream in Northern California.
I can’t believe it took him three days to return my call. I guess absence does not make the heart grow fonder.
“You called me? Why?” His face fills the small screen, and my heart tries to skip a beat like it used to do whenever I’d see him, but the harshness of his words dampens its stutter.
“I need to talk to you. Hang on a sec—let me get in my car.” I set him on the dashboard and get in, tossing my large bag into the passenger seat before picking my phone back up.
“You left here, left us. I mean, fuck, Harmony, you’re practically in another state. I’m not sure what you think you’re going to accomplish by calling me now. I’m not leaving LA.” He glares at me through the tiny screen of my phone.
“There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to… I’m pregnant. I took one of those drug store tests.”
He visibly swallows on the small screen, which is now tucked into the phone holder on my dash. Then, his whole demeanor changes.
“And you believe it’s mine for some reason?” His eyebrows lift, and his lips gap for the smallest second before he schools his face. “Are you for real? I’m not falling for this shit, Harmony.”
“You’re such an asshole. You know I haven’t been with anyone but you.” I can’t help the anger pouring from me. I wasn’t sure about this whole baby thing, and I’m still not. But he doesn’t have the right to do this, to doubt me, when he knows me better than that.
“And I’m supposed to blindly trust your word? I wasn’t born yesterday, Harm.” He rolls his eyes. Rolls. His. Eyes. Who does he think he is? The tension fires up my blood as my heart rate rises.
“It’s yours.” There’s loud hostility in my words. I can’t help it. I knew he wouldn’t be happy, but I didn’t expect this amount of vitriol from him.
“Can you prove it? Can you even prove you’re pregnant? I’ve seen positive tests for sale on eBay.”
I know my mouth opens, jaw damn near sitting on the seat with me, but I can’t help it. Not when he has the audacity to question my words when he knows me, my background, and my childhood. I’ve always been an open book about that, or at least I used to be. He actually thinks this is something I would lie about?
Rob’s quiet when I don’t say anything, but then he says, “I’m feeling generous. What’s your Venmo? I’ll send a few bucks to help you get rid of it. If you’re really even pregnant. But if you aren’t, keep the money anyway. Consider it a parting gift.” He sighs and looks directly into the camera. “Then burn my number. I want nothing more to do with you. History means in the past, Harm.”
I’m so taken aback by him writing off his own child that my words don’t come. He’s writing off his own child just like I was written off by my birth mom, Sevenya.
“I mean it, Harm. Take care of it. I don’t want to hear from you again. No more money. No more calls. You broke us by leaving. This is all on you.”
The call ends, and I stare at my phone. I can’t believe him. I can’t believe I was ever with him. Take care of it.
The hot tears of anger start. At least I was able to stave them off while I was on the phone with him. He doesn’t know he got to me, and I don’t want him to have that satisfaction.
I should have expected this from him. It shouldn’t be cutting me this deeply. Yes, I thought we had something, that we were something. That he loved me. But he proved me wrong when he refused to relocate up here to follow my dream. He didn’t want to leave LA, his friends, his band, the beach. But he was willing to let me go. Everything else was more important to him. Just like it clearly is when it comes to this baby growing inside of me.
I wasn’t going to let him stop me from following my dream. Even the two people who love me the most in the world were supportive. Even my best friend, who was his friend as well, was all for me coming up here and doing my coffee thing.
It’s a different world here in Port Haven. I’m still at the coast, though. I don’t think I could live long-term where the ocean wasn’t a quick drive away. I get that from both sides of my family. My dad and Sammy are both avid surfers. One of the first places my dad brought me when I came to live with him was the beach to look for mermaids. It’s been my first love ever since. The second place Dad took me was Disneyland.Where he and my mom fell in love.
It took Rob three days to return my call. Three. That’s how much he cares. I shake my head. So what if he can see me.
Sevenya fought her addictions enough to make sure I was born safely. She reduced her drug use until I was born and lined up Miss Shelly to take care of me because she knew she couldn’t. My dad’s wife, the woman I call mom, loves me just as much as she loves Fender, her biological son she had with my dad. She makes sure I know it every day, even now with me living way up here, so far from home. I couldn’t ask for a better mom.
Unlike Sevenya, I want my baby to know me. I don’t want my child left with a gaping hole in their heart, with a curiosity like mine. One that my dad and uncle try to satisfy to this day, but alas, will never be able to. Why couldn’t she have just tried a little bit harder for me? Why wasn’t I enough? Why did she leave me in Montana instead of giving me to my dad, who obviously wanted me from the moment he found out about me?
Miss Shelly took care of me until my dad and Uncle Sammy found me. I need to call her and check on her. She softened the reality that my mom was an addict.
No one knew Sevenya was molested by multiple men, men that her mom, my grandmother, dated. Not until it was too late anyway.She was just a little girl. I might not even be here if Uncle Sammy didn’t move to Hollywood with his new band, the Blind Rebels, and take his sister, Sevenya, with him.
Sammy is the one who told me about her being sexually assaulted. When I turned eighteen, he gave me my bio mom’s diaries so I could read her thoughts in her own words, but he made sure to warn me what I’d be reading about. Then, Dad gave me a letter she wrote for me. Miss Shelly had three of them tucked into the scrapbook she gave my dad. They were left by my bio mom before she abandoned me at the hospital.
One was for my dad and one for Uncle Sammy. The last is mine. I have yet to read the diaries or her letter. Seeing Sevenya’s words in her own handwriting might break me. I know for a fact my dad hasn’t read his letter. He told me he didn’t want to hear the excuses—that there wasn’t one good enough to abandon me, her baby , in another state while she came home.
My baby. It’s been my secret since I took the pee test the night after Mom, Dad, and Fend headed back to Southern California. I realized I was late while they were here. And I’m almost never late.
Problem is, I thought Rob would at least care about the baby. I expected him to come up here with me when I told him about my dream for The SeaSong so we could start our lives together. But he wants nothing to do with me or my dream. And now or—no— my baby.
A wave of nausea hits me as I open the door to my apartment, and I run for the bathroom just in time. I wipe my mouth on the back of my hand and move to the sink to wash my hands when done. I should probably find a doctor here in Port Haven because my morning sickness is always worse at night and when I’m stressed out. I have no idea if that’s normal, and I don’t really have anyone to ask. I lost touch with many of my girlfriends when I moved. Most are in the middle of planning pregnancies. Not having them by mistake like me.
The asshole from the bookstore didn’t help when he screamed at me this morning. As soon as he left, I excused myself to the back to throw up my breakfast. But I was good the rest of the day. Until Rob called.
As much as I want to put on my favorite pjs, curl up on the couch, and lose myself in mindless television, I don’t. I grab the leftover scones and muffins from The SeaSong and divide them into bags for the neighbors. I’ll start with Monica next door. She’s always maintained a level of professionalism as my landlord, which I think my parents appreciated when they met her the day I moved in.
Once my parents left, Monica was kind of standoffish, preferring to keep to herself. But she’s starting to warm up to me. At first, she was leery of me and my motives when I knocked on her door and offered her leftover baked goods from the café. But honestly, after my family left, Monica was the only person I kind of knew.
I check my reflection in the mirror near the door, then grab the bag of goodies I earmarked especially for her and head across the yard to the main house.I knock on the side door to her house and she answers with a reserved smile that I return.
“Hi, Monica, I have some café goodies for you.” I hand over one of the bags of pastries. “We had some of those lemon sage muffins you love leftover from Amanda again. And I added some scones for you and a couple of chocolate chip muffins for the boys.”
She gladly takes the bag. “Thank you, Harmony. That’s so sweet of you.”
“Um, this is totally random, but I’m wondering if you know of any doctors who might be taking on new patients. You know, like a primary care doctor and a gynecologist. I should establish care here, and I don’t really know anyone else well enough to ask.” I can’t look her in the eye, so I look at the checkered pattern on my Van’s. I don’t want her to know what’s going on with me. I’m partially convinced that she only talks to me for my baked goods and rent money, but I feel drawn to her in an almost maternal way. She’s about my mom’s age with two teenage sons at home and a grown daughter at the nearby Cal Poly Humboldt.
“Of course,” she says, opening her door wider. “Come on in.” I follow her through her house and into the kitchen, just like I did on the day I signed my lease. “Sit, sit.” She motions to the barstools at her breakfast bar, so I do. Opening a drawer, she rummages through it.
“This is my doctor—Jacalyn Jones-Teetering. She’s wonderful. I’m sure she’s taking new patients.” She hands me a business card.“And if not, you tell Misha at the front desk that you were recommended by Monica. Port Haven is small, and there are only three doctors here in town or else you have to go over to Redding.She’s my primary care doctor, but she also serves as my gyno. Start with her.” I take the card and nod as I struggle to hold in the tears that burn my eyes.
I really want my mom and dad. They are always so supportive. Even when it’s something heavy. And me being a mom? That’s pretty damn heavy.
I know I can go home, or call them at the very least, and I have no doubt they’d come rushing up here to the rescue. But now that I’m pregnant, it’s especially important for me to do this myself and get it right. I will not let this derail me like it did my birth mom. I came up here to stand on my own and be an adult. I will not go running home to Mom and Dad, scared and pregnant.
“Thank you for this.” I wave the card at her, hoping she doesn’t hear me almost lose it as I slide off the barstool. “I should get through the rest of my pastry deliveries before it gets too dark.”
“Of course.” She helps me gather the other three bags I brought with me for other neighbors and follows me out to the door. I almost feel like she knows what’s going on with me. Like I have a neon arrow flashing above my head that says preggers .
“You can stop by anytime if you need to talk, okay?” She pats my shoulder as I nod, and I almost spill my secret to Monica right there on her doorstep, but she might tell my parents since they co-signed my lease.
And I can’t risk that.
“Well, Harmony, you’re definitely pregnant, hon,” Dr. Jones-Teetering, Jackie as she asked me to call her, says as she rolls her stool up to the examination table in her office. “Between what you’ve told me and your hCG levels, I’d say conservatively that you are probably nine to eleven weeks pregnant. I’d like to do a transvaginal ultrasound, so we can get a better idea on your due date. Are you up for that?”
I nod and swallow the lump in my throat caused by her confirmation. “I’ve had one before. As a teenager, I had an ovarian cyst, so I know what to expect.”
Jacalyn nods. “Good. Go ahead and lean back, hon. Feet here.” She positions my feet into the stirrups. “Did you end up having surgery for your cyst?” She peeks down at me as she prepares the wand.
I shake my head. “No. It resolved on its own.”
She nods. “That’s good, actually. You’re going to feel pressure now.”I close my eyes and wish I was anywhere but here. I wish that I was in Miss Shelly’s linen closet that she let me escape to when life became overwhelming. She always kept one of those little pen flashlights in there, along with a soft blanket and my favorite gummy snacks with some books. It was ironic to find out years later how my dad used the same coping mechanism when he was a kid. He’d often squeeze himself into small spaces to hide or just escape reality for a while. Now he uses music to do those things.
I hear a rapid whooshing sound I’ve only heard on television before and look up at the doctor. She smiles at me. “That’s your baby.” She points out a rapid flickering on the screen. “That’s the heart. Baby is measuring in at eleven weeks, four days. Give or take a day or two. Everything else looks good.” She squeezes my knee before handing me a tissue box, my attempt at not crying long forgotten. My baby. My very real baby with a heartbeat.
I’m hit with another strong pang of wanting my parents. Needing them with me to help me process all the emotions and feelings that the hormones exacerbate as they flood through my body. And just then, my phone vibrates, announcing a call from my purse on the hook across the room. Somehow, I just know that it’s my dad.
It’s hard for him not to see me whenever he wants, he told me that the first time we chatted after they left. I’m surprised he hasn’t visited yet, but I know he’s trying to give me the space I need to grow up. Whereas Mom is the exact opposite. She calls me daily, texting me multiple times a day sometimes. Dad texts me, too, but not like her. Sometimes, she just sends me a mermaid emoji. Our secret code for, “ I’m thinking of you , and I love you.”
My phone vibrating against the wall where my purse hangs on a hook must intrigue the doctor because she turns her attention to my face. “Is that the father?”
I shake my head. “I think it’s, um, my dad.” My sentence hitches in the middle as I struggle to hold myself together.
“Should we talk about the baby’s dad? Does he know?”
I nod. “He Venmoed me money and told me to “take care of it” because he wouldn’t.” She tries to school her reaction, but I notice the anger that flashes in her eyes before her jaw sets. “He broke up with me right before I came to Port Haven. He didn’t like the idea of me leaving where we grew up and following my dreams, I guess.” The last words come out with a quivering sob, and I’m immediately embarrassed by my show of emotion.
“Oh, honey.” She moves up so she can rub my back, which of course sets off even more crying. “We can talk more about your options.”
I shake my head. “For me, it’s my baby.” She hugs me tight, and now I really miss my dad and want nothing more than one of his incredible hugs. And as if he knows it, the noise of my purse vibrating against the wall breaks up the hug.
“Well, whoever it is, they are persistent.” Dr. Jones-Teetering pauses as I collect myself. “Anything and everything you tell me, or that we discuss, stays between us. I know what they say about small towns, but I promise you it won’t leave here. I take my oath seriously and believe strongly in doctor-patient confidentiality.”
I nod, but I’m completely overwelled, as Miss Shelly and I used to say. The doctor tells me about things to do and things not to do, but my head spins, and I’m almost positive I’m not retaining anything she says.
Wrapping me in another hug, she hands me a small cloth bag filled with pamphlets and samples along with a small jar of prenatal vitamins to start until I can get to the store to get more. I’ll be going over all this information when I get home.
By the time I get out of the doctor’s office, I’m emotionally and physically exhausted, but I head to The SeaSong to open—albeit late. I really need to get some help, so it’s not all on me. I park behind the café in my spot and pull out my phone to see the two missed calls from my dad and a voicemail. He hates leaving messages. Getting them, too. I shoot up a quick prayer, hoping Mom and Fendy are okay before I press play, needing to hear his voice instead of just reading the transcription that the phone will no doubt get wrong.
“Hey, kiddo. It’s me, but you know that.” He chuckles to himself, and I close my eyes during the long pause before he starts talking again because I miss him that much. “I just needed to tell you that I miss your guts. And the rest of you, too.” Another deep but quiet tee-hee at his own dad joke. If his fans could hear him, they’d learn my dad is nothing at all like they think. He’s not dark and broody. He’s kind, sometimes intense, and a lot dorky.
“Seriously, Harm, I miss you.” He pauses again, and I can hear the emotion in what he’s not saying. “Your mom misses you. Fend misses you. He says even his fish miss you.” Another pause, and if not for the voicemail countdown, I’d wonder if the call was over. But he clears his throat. “I just want to make sure you know we’re here if you need us. I’ll get there as soon as possible. Just say the word. Or if you prefer, your mom can come instead, whatever you need. Anyway, I love you, Harm baby. We. We all love you. Uh, bye.”
I sniffle and wipe my nose on the back of my hand before I text him back a quick, I love you, we’ll talk later message and slide out of my Jeep. Turning to head into The SeaSong, I dig through my purse for the keys. As I walk the short distance to the back door, I run right into a solid wall of a person.
“Oomph. Fuh...dge. I’m sorry.” I look up as the scent of freshly cut cedar, books, and spicy sage engulf me.
“You’re late.” The man from the bookstore next door glares down at me, his hair looking more blond than brown today, highlights from the sun and a few gray hairs peeking out at his temple.
“Not that it’s your business, but I had a medical appointment.”I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t know why I did. I’m still discombobulated with everything going on. “I don’t have a person to cover mornings yet, but it shouldn’t matter since you don’t like my coffee or baked goods. Last time I checked, it’s still my business to do what I want with, so what the fuck does it matter to you?” I can’t help going off on him, even though I know he's purposely pushing my buttons trying to evoke a reaction. Sadly, he’s getting me when I’m all emotional. I even go as far as poking him in the chest. I just hope it hurts through that button up he’s wearing.
He tilts his head slightly and smirks before he shoves a piece of paper at me. I glance down to see it’s an advertisement for a Port Haven town hall meeting at the high school gymnasium.
“I’ve already seen this.” I don’t take it from him. “So?”
“I’ll be discussing your liquor license application and other things about your so-called business. I thought I’d give you fair warning to come up with your rebuttal.”
“Rebuttal? This meeting is tomorrow.” I can’t come up with a rebuttal if I don’t know exactly what he’s going to complain about. He also isn’t offering any other information.
He nods again. “Yep. It’s a special session with the city council.” He shrugs one of his shoulders as he turns back to his bookstore. “I know some people,” is what he says over his shoulder with a sideways glance. But then he stops and turns back to face me.
There is no way I am going to be able to present my case tomorrow, and I really don’t have time to stand here and argue with him. Not when I need to open the café.