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Page 12


  “Ah, I see you,” Brando said, and a second later, I heard the rumbling of a car engine. I looked up to see a black Pontiac rolling to a stop behind me. Brando’s messy, spiky hair was the only thing I could make out through the dark tinted glass until he lowered the window. He didn’t need to say a word. I simply stood up and walked to the passenger’s side and got in.

  With my head resting against the cool window, I watched the scenery pass by. I took in the blurs of blue water mixed with green from the trees as we traveled along the edge of the coast. The dull, gray sky above us held specks of white light as the sun tried to peek through the clouds. Tiny droplets of rain covered the windshield as the wipers swished intermittently, and I felt oddly soothed by the sloshing noises of water beneath the tires as Brando traveled to no particular destination. It was what I needed. To get away from everything yet still be in the place I called home since I was twelve. Where I moved across the street from a boy. A beautiful boy who would forever be in my heart and later ignite my soul. I’d always belonged to him. Knowing that, I couldn’t accept that even as hard as we loved each other, it hadn’t been enough for us to be happy.

  The car came to a stop in front of Annette’s Catch.

  “Come on,” Brando said as he opened my door. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

  The restaurant wasn’t very busy. There were only a few people sitting at the bar and two men shooting a game of pool at one of the billiard tables.

  I slid into the booth opposite Brando as Carina Risto approached us wearing the signature Catch T-shirt and her red hair pulled into a messy topknot.

  “Hey, you two,” she greeted with a smile as she placed two menus in front of us. Uncharacteristically, Brando gave her a smile that actually showed his teeth while his eyes lit up. Yep, he had it bad for her. “What can I get you?” Her gaze focused on me.

  “Can I have the soup, please?”

  “It’s vegetable today. Is that all right?” Carina asked and I nodded. Ms. Annette's homemade soups had always been a comfort food of mine. She wrote my order on her notepad and shifted her gaze to Brando expectantly.

  “Sounds good. I’ll have the same. Got any coffee back there?” he said as he leaned forward and closed the menu.

  “Yes, I just made a fresh pot,” Carina replied.

  “Then I’ll take a cup. You always make the best coffee.” His dark eyes were flirty and smoldering. In response, Carina’s cheeks turned a faint tint of pink as she chewed on her bottom lip and beamed. I tried not to roll my eyes.

  Slow tunes played on the jukebox as we waited for our soup. I’d placed my phone on the table and kept checking it every other minute in case I’d missed any important messages. When Carina returned with two steaming bowls of heaven, my mouth watered and I dug in instantly.

  “Why don’t you call your parents?” Brando asked. “You’ve been gone all day. I’m sure they’re wondering how you are.”

  “I can’t face them right now.” He looked confused for a second before realization took over. “Oh yeah, the B.A.B.Y,” he whispered.

  “Why would you spell it out? We’re not surrounded by a bunch of two-year-olds, Brando.” I giggled. “But, yes, that’s part of it.” Then I explained my outburst in the hospital cafeteria and how I knew I would have to deal with that sooner rather than later.

  “Pretty soon you’re not going to have a choice, T. Peanut will grow big enough to tell everyone for you.” He winked and lifted his cup. “This coffee is delicious,” he mumbled after taking a long gulp.

  “Are you ever going to ask her out?” I asked, in a hurry to change the subject.

  “Ask who out?”

  “You know. C.A.R.I.N.A.” Then I gestured with my thumb over my shoulder toward the kitchen.

  Brando glared at me, clearly not amused.

  “See what I did there?” I wiggled my eyebrows, feeling proud of myself.

  “Yeah, I got it.” He frowned.

  “So, when are you going to put yourself out of your own misery and ask her?”

  “Who says I haven’t already?” His eyes were lowered as he lifted a spoonful of soup to his mouth.

  “Brando!” I gasped. “You asked her out? What did she say? I mean, of course she would say yes, right? When are y’all going out?” I rambled on excitedly.

  His expression didn’t hold the same cheerfulness.

  “She said she’s got some things going on right now.”

  “Things? What sort of things?”

  “I guess the kind that don’t involve dating.” He shrugged, a weak attempt at indifference.

  After that, I couldn’t stop myself from casting Carina the side-eye every time she walked past our table. Brando had fast become one of my closest friends. He was an amazing guy, and anyone who didn’t see that was on my shit list.

  “Your phone,” Brando said, catching my attention. I turned my focus to the tabletop and saw that my phone was flashing an old picture of my dad and me from Christmas years ago.

  “Hello?”

  “Doll?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He’s awake.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Brando and I raced to the hospital. I had to see it with my own eyes. He was awake, and for the first time, I allowed myself to feel optimism. Blake had been moved from Critical Care to another unit that allowed more visitors. I ran down the corridor to the room number the nurse at the front desk had given, and when I arrived, Dad, Maggie, Neil, Harley, and Fox were all crowding the tiny space.

  When I stepped through the entryway, Blake turned his head slowly and fixed his deep blue eyes on me. That dimple I adored made a faint appearance, and I was overcome with so many feelings. Relief. Joy. Love. I knew in that one look that he was still my Blake and nothing else mattered. Not even the confused stares as I ran forward, put my hands on either side of his face, and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

  “Oh, Blakey. You’re back,” I whispered. “Thank God.”

  I gently rubbed the scruff on his cheeks as his eyes grew wide with shock. Then his lids closed briefly before he opened them again. There was acceptance and undeniable love glowing there for all to see. Our relationship transformed in that moment. There was no going back.

  “Tay,” Blake said hoarsely.

  “Shh, everything will be fine,” I soothed before reluctantly taking my eyes from his and looking around the room. Harley and Fox were grinning, Neil looked like he’d been whacked in the face with a dirty sock, Maggie’s jaw was hanging wide open, and my dad’s face held no expression at all.

  “We’re gonna . . . er . . . take off,” Fox said and stepped to Blake’s bedside. “Good to see you, man.”

  “Get better soon,” Harley added with a small smile then, hand in hand, they exited the room. A second later, Neil followed, still looking perplexed. I stared after them for a moment before shifting my eyes to Maggie. Her lips were trembling and tears were welling in her already bloodshot eyes from days of sleeplessness and worry. I knew she was expecting something in the way of an explanation from me, but I just didn’t know what to say.

  The whole scenario had played out differently in my head. Blake and I would stand together, hand in hand, while confessing our love for each other, strong and united. To me, it didn’t matter if our parents didn’t agree. I had Blake, and that was all I needed to be happy. But as I took in the hurt on Maggie’s face and how my father wasn’t looking at me at all, suddenly their feelings mattered a whole hell of a lot.

  “Mom,” Blake croaked, and I looked down to see that his eyes were trained on Maggie.

  “No, no, son. Rest,” she answered, her voice barely a whisper as she stood. “Sweetheart, walk with me to get a coffee, please?” Her question was directed at my father, who nodded and guided Maggie from the room with his hand on the small of her back.

  As soon as the hospital door closed with a click, I slumped down and put my forehead on the bed next to Blake. I felt his hand come to rest on the back of my head.<
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  “Tay. Don’t leave. Please.”

  “Never, Blakey.” I lifted my head and placed a hand on his cheek. “I’ll always be here.”

  Satisfied with my answer, his eyes closed as he drifted off to sleep.

  *****

  Blake spent ten days in the hospital. The doctors remained concerned about his head injury and wanted to monitor it for a while. Visitors came and went as Maggie, Dad, and I sat in separate chairs in the hospital room, not speaking. The four of us were sitting in silence, watching some sort of trashy daytime talk show, completely enthralled in finding out the paternity results for a girl who was testing three guys at once. It turned out none of them were the daddy.

  Maggie stretched and yawned, catching Blake’s attention.

  “Mom, why don’t you go home and lie down for a while? Besides, they’re letting me go this afternoon, anyway. No sense in hanging around.”

  My dad chimed in, “He’s right, honey. If you want, maybe you can even get things ready for when he returns home.”

  Maggie shot an indecisive glance to Blake, to my dad, and then back to Blake.

  “But how would you get home, son?”

  My face immediately twisted into a sour expression. What was I? Chopped liver? Did she even see me sitting there?

  As if he could hear my thoughts, Blake spoke up. “Tayia will be here. She’ll bring me home.”

  That answer didn’t seem to bring Maggie great joy. However, the resignation in her eyes showed that she’d at least accepted the solution.

  “Very well.” She stood, pulled on her sweater, and spoke to Blake. “I’ll make some of Grandma’s chicken noodle soup. I know how much you like it.”

  Blake smiled gratefully and nodded. “Sounds good, Mom.”

  My dad guided her out as she sent hesitant glances our way before heading toward the door. Once they were gone, I felt my shoulders relax. It was exhausting to be around them knowing I was avoiding their unasked questions about Blake and me. Hell, I didn’t even know what was going on between us.

  I settled back into the chair next to his bedside, reached for his hand, and smiled.

  “How are you feeling, Blakey?”

  “Like I crashed into a tree.” He chuckled then winced, his broken ribs not yet healed. “How are you feeling?”

  “Relieved.” It was an honest answer. I’d been so grateful that he’d survived such a terrible accident.

  Blake reached forward and grabbed my hand. “Tayia, I want to apologize.”

  “For what?” I furrowed my brow in confusion. He was the one who had a near death experience. If anything, I should have been the one who was sorry for the way I’d handled things.

  “For not believing in us.”

  “Blake . . .” I was at a loss for words.

  “There is nothing I regret more than not giving us a chance to be together, out in the open. To fight for us even if things turned badly with our family and friends. You were worth it. We were worth it.” His voice cracked as he closed his eyes.

  I reached out and wrapped my fingers around his hand. “I knew why, Blake. You were scared.”

  “Psh,” he huffed and turned his head away from me. “A pussy,” he mumbled. “Swear to God, I wish I could take all of it back. All the doubt. All the hurt I caused you. If I hadn’t fucked things up . . .” His voice trailed off as he closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

  I continued to rub his hand, silently comforting him. I hated myself for the way I treated him. I always understood why he’d been so hesitant, but that didn’t mean I had to like it, though.

  “I could have been more patient . . .” I offered.

  “Doesn’t matter much now. I fucked things up with us and now it’s too late.”

  I lifted my head in confusion. “Too late?” I repeated.

  Blake turned to face me again, his red-rimmed eyes filled with sadness.

  “Yeah, I’m going to be an uncle.” He forced a smile that didn’t hide the slight tremble of his bottom lip.

  My heart cracked in two. It had been unfair to keep the truth from him. Yet, the hilarity of my stupidity was overwhelming. So much so that I began to giggle intermittently until I was laughing. The entire time Blake was staring at me with wide eyes like I’d lost my mind. Maybe I had, but it felt so good to throw my head back and release all the bottled-up emotion, grateful for once that it wasn’t in the form of tears.

  “Oh, Blake,” I gasped between fits of laughter, my free hand resting on my belly.

  “Tayia? Are you all right?” He furrowed his brow, concern all over his face.

  “I’m . . . I’m . . .” I took a deep breath as I worked to calm my crazy. “I’m pregnant . . .”

  “Yes, I know.” He tried to remove his hand from mine. “With Brand—”

  “Yours.” I tightened my hold on his hand as he tried to pull away and sit up.

  “What?” His movements stilled as he winced at the pain in his ribs.

  “Your baby, Blake.” He stared at me for a long time, his mouth slightly agape. Only then did it occur to me that he might not take this as happy news and that I could have chosen a better delivery. “Brando and I are only friends. I was never with him . . . in that way. Ever. I’m sorry I let you believe that there was something going on. I was wrong. So very wrong. It’s only been you, Blake. Always you.”

  Silence. The only sign of life I received were sporadic blinks of his eyes.

  “Blake?” I said hesitantly. “Say something.” I squeezed his hand gently in hopes of sparking some sort of reaction. “Please.”

  Suddenly, he was tugging me toward him, and I allowed my body to move as he wished until I was wrapped gently in his arms.

  “Tay,” he breathed against my skin as he buried his face into my neck. “I love you so much. Marry me.”

  It was my turn to be shocked. I pulled back to look at his face to see that he was dead serious. I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t seem to remember how to speak. Words formed on my lips, but I couldn’t vocalize them. Thoughts filled my mind, but I couldn’t comprehend them.

  “Marry me, Tay,” he repeated. “Be my wife.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Marry you?” I whispered. My mind immediately went back to the day I declared that he would be mine.

  “I’m going to marry you one day, Blakey.”

  Could this really be happening? The boy I’d loved since I was twelve years old was asking me to marry him. He was all I’d known. The love of my life, my soul mate, and the other half of me. It was everything I’d ever wanted, right? But for some reason, it just didn’t feel the way I thought it would. Had I forced his hand? Had he only given in because of the circumstances? Blake was an honorable man. The type of guy who would marry the girl he’d knocked up, even if that girl was me.

  The smile slowly left his face and was replaced with concern, making me aware of how long it had taken me to answer.

  “Tay?” He tilted his head to the side and studied me. “You okay?”

  “Uh huh.” I nodded, staring into blue eyes that had owned me for as long as I could remember. I wanted to marry Blake. I really did. Just as I started to open my mouth to say something—what, I had no clue—there was a light tapping on the door followed by greetings from the doctor. I quickly pulled back from Blake and moved away from the bed as the doctor did his assessment then approved him for discharge. As soon as the nurse arrived with the necessary paperwork, prescriptions, and instructions for at home care, I excused myself to go and get my car.

  Blake and I rode home in silence, his proposal hanging in the air, waiting to be acknowledged. I needed time to sort through my doubts over the reason he proposed. I wasn’t going anywhere, of that I was sure. I decided that I’d talk to him later that evening, after I’d had time to collect my thoughts, except it was nearly impossible to get anywhere near Blake, especially not alone. Maggie was fussing over him day and night, not to mention his medications made him sleep a lot.

 
; I was in the kitchen loading the dishwasher, trying to keep myself as busy as possible, when Maggie entered, carrying a tray with empty dishes from Blake’s room. She looked exhausted with dark circles under her eyes. Her shoulder-length hair was a stringy mess, barely held together in a loose ponytail at her nape. Her gaze met mine before she looked away quickly. There was something on her mind. Not wanting to be the one to start the inevitable conversation, I occupied myself with emptying the tray.

  Maggie settled into a chair at the kitchen table just a few feet away. “You could have talked to me, you know,” she said quietly. I stopped mid-rinse and turned to face her. My defenses began to form as she continued. “Chris and I wanted to raise you kids together. Neither of you had siblings and we thought it would be a welcomed bonus.”

  “He was never my brother.” I bristled, feeling like an old wound had been opened. “Not in my mind, anyway.”

  “Clearly.” Maggie nodded. “I knew back then that you’d had a crush on my son. I really underestimated things.”

  “We couldn’t control the fact the you and my dad fell in love and got married.”

  “I know.” She picked at the tablecloth and chewed on her inner cheek, a sign that always meant she was contemplating what to say next. “Blake told me about the baby.” She lifted her eyes to look at me. “Is it true?”

  I nodded.

  “How far along?” I thought back to when I’d last gone to the doctor then calculated the ten days Blake had been in the hospital.

  “About eleven weeks.”

  She drew in a long breath and pressed two fingers against her lips as she processed my answer.

  “It hurts me that you two couldn’t come to us with this. Being in love isn’t a crime. Is the situation awkward, yes, but nothing that should ever make you feel ashamed, Tayia.”

  Shocked by her words, I moved to sit next to her at the table. “Maggie, I’m so sorry.”

  Her face softened as she grabbed my hand. “I know it was my son who wanted to keep things secret. I really wish he didn’t feel that way. I blame myself. I didn’t do a good enough job showing that my love for you both is unconditional.” I’d mistaken her avoidance as anger when what she was really feeling was guilt.