All the Waters of the Earth (Giving You ... #3) (27 page)

Jake had never met them. I couldn’t believe that he had a brother, sister, and stepdad that he’d never met. It blew my mind. What kind of mother never saw her child?  Never had her son meet her other children? Well, since he’d never met his grandparents, I guess that it wasn’t surprising. He told me that he saw his mom on rare occasions, having invited her to his graduations, but she’d never brought his half-brother and sister along. I mentally shook my head.

Still, she meant enough to Jake for him to drop everything and go to her when she asked. Evidence that there was a binding tie between mother and child that could not be cut.

Or that’s what I thought.  But what he said was, “I want to meet my brother and sister.  I need to know them.  Even if this is about money, which I’m sure it is, I don’t want to die without meeting my brother and sister.”

Good.

My new condition had not really settled in for me. Besides the physical discomfort of early pregnancy, emotionally, I was raw. I still hadn’t internalized it.  I’d sworn off alcohol and started taking a vitamin, but that was it.

I hadn’t told Rob yet either, although I planned on telling him soon. But I first had to have a talk with him about Jake. Yes, he knew that Jake stayed over, and yes, he had seen me kiss Jake. But I hadn’t actually talked to him about it.

Further, I needed to have a talk with
Jake
about Jake. I mean it was a relief to know that he loved me and that he said he was going to stay by me, but we had a lot to discuss about our future. We were going to be parents together.

But then I saw Jake buying Rob a hot chocolate and a Minecraft magazine in the airport, leaning over to listen to Rob chatter about some environment you could create in Minecraft.  And any man who paid that much attention to my son was going to be a good father.

We arrived in Phoenix late.  By the time we got to the hotel room, it was after ten o’clock at night, way past Rob’s bedtime.

When we walked into the hotel room, just like in Las Vegas, there were two beds. As a mom, this was yet again a minor crisis moment. Did Rob sleep with me like in Vegas or did I sleep with Jake the way I did now? While I’d been sleeping with Jake at our house, we were careful to keep it from Rob.

Taking a deep breath, I decided that it was okay for Rob to be in his own bed, and for Jake and me to be in the other. If Jake was going to be the father of Rob’s brother or sister, he could see us sleep together.

It still felt like a big step.

After Jake had received the text from his mom on Thursday, and we’d hastily made arrangements to come to Phoenix, we discussed how we were going to share the news of my pregnancy. Because of the fears of something going wrong in early pregnancy, I wanted to wait.  But we agreed we’d still tell my parents, his dad, and my friends, Georgie and Sara, after the first ultrasound.

It was going to be hard to keep it from Rob that long, however, with me getting sick every morning. While a twelve-year-old boy wouldn’t pick up on the diagnosis, he was sensitive enough to know when Mom was sick.

But different than the last time I was pregnant, though, was the very fact of Jake in my life. In the short time since I’d found out, I caught him looking at me and smiling for no reason. When we slept that night, he spent an inordinate amount of time making tiny circles with his fingers on my belly. And while he showed me affection as he always did, everything felt a little sweeter—the kisses on my nose, the way he played with my hair, and the hugs he gave when he got home from work, were all more intense. More meaningful.  All of this was new to me, but it was also gratifying. I trusted Jake and I wanted him in my life, in every part of it.

We set down our luggage in the hotel room, and I turned to him. “Can I talk to you for a moment?” I said quietly. He nodded and we went off by the front door, while Rob rummaged in his bag for his pajamas.  “I want to tell Rob about us but
we
haven’t really talked about us.”

He reached out to hold my hand. “I want to be with you forever. However you need to tell him I’m your boyfriend, you’re my girlfriend, that’s fine.” He’d said it to his dad in the hospital, but somehow, we’d skipped that discussion amongst ourselves. “Are you okay with that?”

“Yeah. You’re my boyfriend.”

“Okay,” he whispered. “We agree. Do you want me to go get some ice?”

I nodded.
God
.  
This man
.  He knew to give me privacy with my son. My Jake.  I let go of his hand, walked over to Rob, and sat down on the bed beside him, while Jake took a key and the ice bucket, and left.

I looked at my sweet boy.

“Mijo, Mister Jake is going to be around us more. Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah, Mom. He’s your boyfriend, right?”

Of course he already knew that, but it was strange to hear it from my son’s mouth. I’d never been close enough to any man for them to meet my son. This was huge.

“Yes.”

“He’s cool. I like him.  Don’t worry.”

Step one, done. I’d worry about step two, telling Rob he was getting a sibling, later. When Jake came back, we got ready for bed and went to sleep—me, cuddled platonically with Jake, my son sleeping in the next bed. Again, it felt like we were creating our own little family.

I wondered what it would be like in the morning with Jake’s other family.

“Jacob!” cried a raven-haired woman, striking in designer jeans, a peasant blouse, and turquoise jewelry.  She ran out of the silly-huge house to greet us. And now it began.

That morning, Saturday, I’d woken up in Jake’s arms, nauseous but so warm and comfortable.  Rob slept peacefully in the other bed. Turning over, I wriggled into him and looked up as he opened his eyes. First thing in the morning, sleepy, stubbly, hair wonky, in bed? My Jake was a superb guy.

“Morning,” he said, and kissed me lightly.

“Morning, guapo,” I returned, happy to have this quiet moment with him, before what was sure to be a day of . . . something. Revelations? Connections? Boredom? Drama?

I think the fact that we had no idea what to expect made us both agitated.

He rubbed his fingers on my shoulder and started talking. “I dreamed last night that I had an art gallery, all my own. It was white, airy. It had good lighting and it was in a nice part of town. I had a room for myself, and all of my pictures were up.”  He looked wistful.  “There was a whole wall of portraits of you.” I rubbed my nose into his chest, snuggling harder.  “That would never happen, though, because they’re too intimate. They’re just for you and me.”

I tilted my head to the side, thoughtful. “Maybe. But I’m a professional, remember. I don’t mind. I think that intimacy makes them really good.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m not sharing those. Anyway, I don’t really want to own an art gallery, I don’t think.  But it would be nice to have a show and feel like a real artist.”

“You are a real artist.”

“Well, one who puts work out there.”

“When we get back, let’s look at that art space collective in Ventura. The one that’s housed in an old school.”

He looked interested. “Yeah?  I’ve never been there.”

“I bet we could get you some show space.”

“I’d like that.” He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “It still stresses me out to not be at work, you know.  Hate to admit that.  I worked those crazy hours for so long.  Before we left, I gave away a bunch of cases to other attorneys in the office so I could let go of it.  I had to.”

“
Yay
,” I whispered.

“I keep expecting things to go wrong or to be asked questions about it. I keep thinking of what’s going on in the office. And I’m trying not to, but it doesn’t feel right.”

“We’re not talking about making you a slacker. We’re just gonna go for balance.  When you ease up off of total workaholism, it’s gotta feel like you’re doing nothing. But in reality, you’re just getting to be healthier.” I leaned over and kissed him.  This time, instead of the chaste morning kiss, he kissed me back for real, a hot kiss, hotter than we should be kissing in the morning, lots of tongue, hands engaged, running down my lower back and holding me to him. He looked over at a sleeping Rob.  I giggled and sighed. “I hate to wake him, but I think we have to if we’re going to get there on time.”

I nodded. Torn, as usual, between parental responsibilities and a little somethin’ somethin’. But plenty of Jake for me later.

“I just know it’s gonna be about money today,” he muttered. “That’s all she ever thinks about, and it’s gonna piss me off.”

“Brother and sister.  That’s why you’re here.”

“Yeah.”

We ate breakfast at the hotel, and as we drove in a rental car to his mom’s house, he was uncharacteristically quiet. I never had trouble talking with him and he could be a real chatterbox. But right now? Silence.

The pale morning sky here in the arid Southwest looked bigger and wider than in Santa Barbara.  There it was edged by the hills on one side and the ocean on the other instead of a whole grand dome over our heads, extending in every direction. We pulled up to the gated community of new, huge houses on big lots, separated from each other by a ton of land. Adapted to the Southwest, the adobe-style McMansions had xeriscaping—rocks instead of lawns and drought-tolerant plants like cacti, yucca, and mesquite. But the houses were ostentatious.  This was serious money. Rob looked around, wide-eyed. 

The guard at the gate let us in, and I immediately noticed that there were no sidewalks.  The roads curved here and there, without a sense of being connected to the landscape. 

Arriving at a house toward the back of the development, Jake parked the car and we got out. A tall, thin woman, with striking long black hair, came out to greet us.

“Jacob!” she exclaimed.  “You’re here.”  She wrapped him in a hug and he hugged her back, awkwardly.

“Hi, Mom.  It’s been a while.”

“Oh, my, you’re so handsome,” she said, and pinched his cheek like my mom. I stifled a giggle.  Guess all moms could act like that, even if your kid was six foot something and a chiseled hottie.

“This is my girlfriend, Lucy Figueroa, and her son Roberto. Lucy and Rob, this is my mom, Linda.”

“You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend,” she said.  She shook my hand warmly. 

I heard Jake say under his breath, “That’s because we don’t talk.”  I raised an eyebrow at him, and he took my hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Lucy, and welcome, Rob. Come, come inside.” Her body was nervous and twitchy, but her face didn’t move.  Botoxed. She looked very young to be his mother. Everything about her was stylish and coiffed. 

While I expected the house to be nice, I hadn’t expected this level of grandeur. Jake was so down-to-earth. He didn’t go for fancy, although his house was nice. But this level of showing off was not his style.

Jake tightened his grip on my hand and I could hear his shallow breaths, nervous to meet his family.  I could feel the anxiety going through him.  We walked into the adobe palace—really, there was no other way of describing it—and his mom showed us into an enormous great room with a huge television and lots of places to sit.  

Sitting on one couch was, apparently, his brother. Perched on the ottoman, his sister.

Jake smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hi,” he said, waving. “I’m Jake.”

“Veronika,” said his sister, standing up. Tall, very thin, with the graceful carriage of a ballet dancer and the energy of a teenager. She went over and gave him a quick hug, then stepped back and shook her head, looking pleased. “I can’t believe I’m finally meeting my brother, after all these years.  It’s so cooool!”

I instantly liked her.

“I’m Shawn,” said his brother, who looked like he played football, all brawny and short-haired. They shook hands firmly.

After introductions all around, Linda bustled about getting everyone coffee, even though everyone said that they didn’t want it. Jake fidgeted on the couch, and I perched close to him.  

Rob sat quietly in a corner. I’m sure he was hoping for a book or his Minecraft, but not today. Some days were like that, kiddo. I was proud of him for being polite, however.