All Your Firsts Without Me, page 19
Dad. Holy cow. I’m going to be a dad.
The doctor comes in and continues with the ultrasound. “Do you want to know what the sex is?”
I look to April to answer. She bites her lip, bobbing her head up and down.
“I guess we do,” I tell the doctor.
“It’s a girl.”
April gives me a hesitant glance; I give her the biggest smile in return. “We’re going to have a daughter.” I place my lips to her forehead for a few seconds, hopefully relaying how fucking happy I am.
“Oh my god. We’re having a baby,” April says as if it’s just now sinking in.
On the way home, April fills her mouth with greasy take-out, finally feeling a little better. We both keep looking at each other, grinning like kids who just got away with the whole cookie jar. My cheeks are starting to hurt.
Lucky bounces around our feet when we step through the door. We settle on the couch. “It’s been a long day.” April curls into my side. I wrap my arm around her. “It’s funny how life can take you on such a rollercoaster of emotions in only one day.”
I drag my short, clipped nails over the back of her head. She closes her eyes, relaxing into my touch. “I’m so lucky to have such a strong woman by my side. Watching you with Fred was…” I swallow hard.
“Nobody should have to be alone.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal. “He was a good man, I wanted to give him comfort.”
“It didn’t remind you of David?”
April thinks about it for a minute. “It did but not in the way that you’re thinking.” She shifts on my shoulder to look up at me. “Are you okay?” she asks.
“I’ve never watched anyone die,” I admit honestly. “It kind of freaked me out.”
“He’s in a better place,” she assures me. Lucky yawns on her lap which makes April stifle a yawn of her own.
“You need to get some sleep, but first, I brought you a gift.” I slide off the couch and dig through my bag. When I find what I’m looking for, I hand it to her. She takes it from me, smiling. “When did you take this?” She runs her finger over the cover of our new album. It’s a picture of her, stretching her arms over her head as she watches the sunset.
“A few weeks ago,” I tell her.
“This is amazing. Our first album. I got you a gift too,” she says, giggling. “Actually, it’s from David.”
She runs to her room and comes back with a bracelet. She shows me the matching one on her wrist. “It was with his last letter. It’s the coordinates to where we met.” Her gold eyes twinkle with amusement.
I smile, sliding it over my hand. “He would be pissed to find out he was wrong for once. He thought we would meet at the White Glass.”
She tips her head, watching me carefully.
“It’s a thoughtful gift, though,” I admit, giving her a kiss on the forehead.
She yawns again.
I wrap my arm around her waist and pick her up, carrying her to the bedroom. “You really do need to sleep, but first I’m going to make love to my soon-to-be wife.”
She laughs, her arms curling around my neck. “You sound pretty sure about that.”
“Because I am.” I kick the door shut behind me, placing her on the bed.
“You haven’t even asked yet.” She starts stripping, watching me do the same.
“Will you marry me,” I ask, kicking my jeans aside.
She lies back, her hands reaching for me. “Yes,” she answers as I lower myself, sliding into her in one slow, continuous motion. Her shoulders bow off the bed.
That was easy. Too easy.
I focus on her eyes, searching for the doubt I’m sure she feels but I don’t see any. Her gaze is fixed on me, her jaw slack as I draw her closer and closer to an orgasm. “You’re mine,” I growl in her ear, suddenly possessive of my woman. The mother of my child. My hips jerk with primal urge. Mine. Mine. Mine. I chant in my head until I mark her as such.
When my head drops to her shoulder, she runs her fingers through my hair, whispering against my ear, “I’m yours. I’m yours,” she reassures. I’ve been so afraid she would always hold a piece of herself from me. I even had myself convinced that she would never agree to marry me.
It’s not that I’m jealous. I’m not. But I need to know that I have her whole heart. Even if part of it still aches for him. I’ll hold that section tenderly and with care, but it must be mine.
I hug her tight, wanting to remember this moment forever. She’s mine. Only mine.
“My heart is in your hands,” she breathes against the shell of my ear.
I swear she can read my mind. “I love you, April. I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you too.”
When I roll off her, she instantly snuggles to my side. “I’m going to make her peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and read to her every day. Just like your mom used to. I’m going to love her so much,” she says sleepily, somewhere between reality and her dreams. Her breath deepens, and I know she’s fast asleep.
It’s sweet April remembered that I told her my mother used to read to me. I slide out from under her. I know the perfect gift to give the mother of my child.
I leave her a note in case she wakes. April has given me the courage to open my old wounds. I’m ready to remember. I want to remember.
Mom, Dad, I’m going to be a father. I’m so happy. I just wish you were here.
When I get home, I pull the boxes out of the garage and sit on the floor in my living room. Finally, I’m brave enough to go through old photos. God, I miss them. After I finish with the pictures, I dig through the box of books I saved. Most from my childhood but there are others, journals, romance novels, one or two thrillers. My mother loved to read.
When I find the one I’m looking for, I head back to April’s. The sun is just coming up, so I decide to start breakfast for the two of us. The aroma must wake her because soon her slender arms are wrapping around my waist. She presses kisses along my spine. “Good morning, daddy.” She giggles, making my heart soar.
I turn, brushing her hair behind her shoulders, cupping her cheeks. “Good morning, mommy.” Her grin widens at my words.
She lays her head on my chest. “I’m so happy,” she says quietly. “It wasn’t long ago I thought my life was over and now…” she pulls away from me and spins around the room, reminding me of Lucky. Actually, Lucky is spinning with her. God, that is too damn cute.
She laughs and falls on the floor, breathless. This is what David was talking about when he told me she was a diamond. She’s beautiful on the outside no doubt, but this beauty, the one David referred to as a diamond, it shines from deep within her. I saw it last night when she comforted Fred and I see it now.
“She’s going to look inward for a time, but hang in there, Westin. Stay with her and eventually you will see it. You’ll see her looking at the world with such bright intensity, you won’t miss the sparkle. It’s something you’ll never forget.”
She rises from the floor and puts on our album, turning it up loud. When Inevitable starts to play, she dances around me as I continue to make breakfast. She sings and laughs. Our kids are going to love her. She rushes for the door and flings it open. The wind blows her hair back as she stands there, taking it all in. The air, the ocean, the birds, she appreciates it all.
“It’s a beautiful morning,” she says to me over her shoulder. “We should eat outside.”
“Go on, I’ll bring it out when it’s ready,” I tell her, waving her away with my dish towel.
She’s fucking glowing. Glowing.
When I get outside, I find her laying on the beach with Lucky by her side. She is staring up at the sky, her lips moving. I wonder if she’s talking to David.
I call her up for breakfast. She shields her face from the sun with her hand as she makes her way to me. “You know what your eyes remind me of?” she asks as she sits down.
“I’m not even going to guess.” I laugh, sitting down beside her.
“They’re like looking at the sun through a piece of sea glass.”
“Wow, thank you.” I clear my throat. April has a way of making me feel like the handsomest man on the planet. My confidence has returned over the months, all due to the appreciation she shows me.
“Were you talking to him?” I ask, putting my foot in my mouth. Why did I ask her that?
“No. I was talking to my neighbor lady.”
My brows pull together. She laughs, rubbing her finger over the wrinkles my confusion creates.
“What were you telling her?”
“That I’m going to be a mom.”
My confusion vanishes, replaced by thoughts of my own mother. “Oh, I have a gift for you.” I hold my finger up.
“Another gift?” She yells into the house behind me, laughing.
I come back with my gift wrapped in a brown paper bag.
She sighs as she studies the doodles I drew on the paper. All baby related. A rattle, pacifier, things like that. “I should stick to music,” I joke.
“I think they’re cute.” April unwraps it slowly, not wanting to ruin my drawings. “What’s this gift for?” she asks, pausing to look at me.
“It’s the first gift for our daughter… for you.”
Tears pool in her eyes but she keeps them in check, going back to unwrapping. When she pulls the children’s book away from the paper, her eyes widen in surprise.
“It was my mother’s,” I tell her. “Remember when you told me this was your favorite?”
She nods, tears spilling down her face. She opens her mouth to speak but she can’t. Her eyes drop to the book. Her finger rubs over the title. It’s Cinderella.
“I can’t wait to hear you read it to her.”
Slowly she opens the first page, covering her mouth.
“I have the whole set. We can set them up in the nursery. You’ll be able to read them to her every night.”
I pull her onto my lap, kissing her temple. She hugs the book to her chest. “I love it,” she whispers.
She opens the book again and starts reading. My hands caress her stomach. About halfway through the story, a picture falls out, floating to the ground beside us. We both lean over the chair to stare at it. It’s of a little girl holding this very book to her chest. My old dog, Dandy, by her side.
April climbs off my lap, crouching down to the ground. She picks it up. “Do you know who this is?” she whispers, not looking at me.
“No… wait, yeah. I think it’s our little neighbor girl.” I take it from her to get a closer look. “Yeah, my mom was so worried when she and her family moved away. I remember her crying to my dad late one night that she needed to find her. She thought someone might be hurting her. The night of our car accident, she told me she had finally found her. I was surprised to hear that she had never given up the search. She was relieved. She said the police assured her they were going to go check on her.”
I study the little girl’s eyes, they are dull, sad even, but I notice the tiny gold flecks hidden under the sorrow.
Wait… my eyes lock on April’s. Hers are open wide in disbelief. “Your mom looked for me?” she asks.
I scoot my chair back, the feet scraping loudly against the cement. My hands shake as I look at the photo again. “Is this you?” I ask.
She nods, her eyes going back to the picture.
“That was the first photo I’d ever been in,” she says quietly, pulling it from my hand. “She told me I was as pretty as a picture that day. I told her I’d never had my photo taken. She ran to her house and came back with a camera. She took this photo of me and her dog.”
“His name was Dandy,” I remind her gently. She looks like she’s in shock.
“Yes, Dandy,” she repeats, closing her eyes. She rubs the silver on her bracelet.
“This is…” I don’t even know what to say.
“Inevitable,” she finishes for me.
I run my hand down my face. She’s right. She’s fucking right. Her and I are inevitable.
When she opens her eyes, a grin tugs at the corner of her mouth. “Your mom told me once she hoped her son would marry a girl as sweet as me,” she teases, the sparkle in her eyes returning. “Remember when I told you I had something I wanted to talk about,” she asks.
My heart stutters. Shit, she did, but then Fred passed away and we found out we were having a baby and I forgot all about it.
“These coordinates,” she motions between our matching bracelets. “They lead to the place it all began.” Her eyes drop back to the photo in her hand.
She falters back on her butt. “I loved Kathryn so much,” she cries. I get down on the ground with her, pulling her into my arms. “It was her I thought of in that basement. I dreamed of her family, holding out hope for having one of my own someday.”
April turns to face me, cradling my scruffy cheeks in her hands. “She saved me. She’s the one who alerted the authorities. She’s the reason David was there that day.”
We stare at each other as we absorb the words she just said out loud.
David knew. Of course, he knew. My friends told me he had been digging up information on me. I didn’t care, I didn’t have anything to hide. My intentions were pure. I just wanted to meet the woman who gave me inspiration.
Why didn’t he just tell us?
My guess is, he wanted us to build a strong foundation on our own. He wanted us to fall in love first. This revelation was meant to be the cherry on top.
We spend the rest of the day at my house going through memories of my past. April listens to my old stories, remaining quiet. It’s so easy to talk to her.
“This is amazing. I’ve always wanted to know more about her,” April says. She stands up, placing her hands on her hips. “We have to hang these up. Its time, don’t you think?”
I nod and we set to work hanging frame after frame. “Will you move in with me?” I ask, holding one up for her inspection.
“Bring the left side down a little,” she says, ignoring my question.
My heart sinks. She’s not ready. The thought of us living apart when the baby comes breaks my heart.
I follow her into the spare bedroom. She sets a picture of my mom and dad on the dresser. “Don’t you think this would make a great nursery?” she asks. “We could put the bookshelf there,” she points to the corner of the room.
When she notices my relief, she rushes over to me, wrapping her arms around me tightly. “Of course, I’m going to live with you. I thought we were getting married,” she teases.
“You had me worried for a minute.”
“My child is going to know her father. She’s a lucky little girl because he’s going to teach her to play the guitar and how to throw a football,” she adds.
A laugh erupts deep in my chest. “We’re going to have to start thinking of names for her.” I get down on my knees to speak to my daughter. “What do you want your name to be?” I lay my ear against April’s stomach, pretending to listen for the reply.
April runs her fingers through my hair as I spit out the possibilities to her belly.
“How about Kathryn?” she interrupts.
Staring up at her, I smile. “You would name her after my mother?”
“I would love to name her after your mother,” she says sincerely.
“Hello, little Kathryn. I can’t wait to meet you.” I wrap my arms around April squeezing her bottom for good measure. She swats me in the arm, but I know she loves it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
April
Westin fills the squirrel feeder as I sit down on the grass. When he’s finished, he joins me, wrapping his arms around his knees.
“You can go first,” I tell him.
He flashes me a nervous smile before speaking. “Hey, man, it’s us. Yep, us. But I’m sure she’s already told you.” He nudges my knee with his, making me laugh lightly.
“David and I have had many conversations about us,” I admit.
Westin continues, “We wanted you to be the first to know. Well, the third, but only because Jeff and Teresa were there. But anyway, we’re having a baby.”
We sit quietly, allowing the words to settle on the breeze.
“And we’re getting married. I’m really fucking happy, man,” he covers his mouth, his eyes darting around.
I swat him in the arm, scolding him, but then I quickly add, “I’m really fucking happy too.”
Our laughter echoes across the cemetery.
When we quiet down, I pick up where Westin left off. “The baby is a girl,” I tell him quietly.
Westin wraps his arm around me, pulling me close.
“April and I created an album together. All the proceeds are going to go to a foundation we’re starting in your memory. I don’t know how else to repay you, David,” Westin says, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. He struggles a few seconds before continuing.
“You should see the cover. The chick on the front is hot.” Something between a sob and a laugh punctuates his sentence.
When he doesn’t say anything after that, I take my turn. “We’re naming her Kathryn. Your letters said she was the first person you were going looking for up there. I hope you found her.”
Westin makes a pained sound, so I wrap my arm around his stomach and snuggle into him more. He’s been alone for so long. He has friends but no family to speak of. I don’t know if he’s ever really allowed himself time to grieve for his parents.
We sit quietly for a long time. Both of us lost in our thoughts.
I allow my worries, my hopes, my dreams to float freely. I know a lot of people are going to judge us… me in particular, when they find out I’m pregnant. But there is no judgment here amongst the dead.
My eyes catch Westin’s watch, and I realize we should probably get going.
“There’s a newbie up there,” I break the silence, sitting up. “His name is Fred Fredricks. Can you check on him for me?”
