Catching Preeya (Paradise South Book 3) (24 page)

*

Preeya looked up at her father and a slow, seeping warmth came over her—a cleansing, liberating wave. She’d have done anything to be nothing like him. Her anger ruled. Had blinded her. And now she could see him. Her father. Just a man. And yes, a doctor, but a regular man, her blood. A good, decent, human man.

“Sylvia…seems nice.”

“She’s got a truly wonderful heart, Preeya. And she’s a fighter.
Two-time
breast cancer survivor. That’s how I met her. She was a patient. Trying to reduce her risk years ago with a double mastectomy. But her genes had other plans. Cancer found her anyway.”

Chills crawled up her body, stunned at her own ignorance. Her own
closed-minded
default setting had struck again. The superficial wax woman she’d assumed Sylvia to be had transformed into a brave soldier in a blink.

She sighed hard and heavy. “Dad, I’d like to try and get to know her.”

“We would like nothing better.”

They sat on that cold stone bench for a long while without saying another word. People and clouds and intermittent squirrels and birds moved through their time while Preeya and her father just stayed very still, very
there
. Together.

And like a crisp breeze coming in off the bay on the beach of her Marietas, an image wisped into her mind. And in an instant, just like that, the blank slate, the unknown, her tomorrow, had an answer.

“Hey, Dad, if I wanted to go back, you know, to medical school…would you still help me? If only just at the beginning. I think…yeah, I think that’s what I see myself doing. That’s the route I want to take.”

CHAPTER 35

S
he’d moved into
her
quick-find
apartment just in time to register at UW’s medical program—getting into Berkeley, even with her father’s connections, had become too high a hope after so long. She looked out her window overlooking the Seattle skyline. The Emerald City in summer, the only time the clouds break.

But after nearly four weeks and no reply from Ben, her head and heart felt
gray-cloud
heavy. No updates from Stacy, either. God, Preeya just wanted to know he was safe. If nothing else, that he was
alive
. Not held ransom by one of the competing cartels or some crazy shit like that.
Really, Preeya—ransom?
How stupidly dramatic—not the
life-thrills
she’d meant. But after seeing the front page of the Vallarta paper their last morning together, this was no stage drama. Real drug lords and guns. And before this newer surge in cartel activity, aside from the safe tourist spots, she’d been warned through her airline and the embassy about random civilian disappearances in the larger Mexican cities. For layovers in Mexico City, all the FAs stayed at the airport hotel.

And she’d chosen to ignore
that
to go with Ben to Somewhere, Central Mexico.

Jesus, Ben, where are
you?

Her lungs emptied in shaky bursts. She wouldn’t leave another voice mail on his cell; she swore this morning’s would be the last. And after this many weeks, she didn’t expect him to reply at all. If only Stacy would get back to her saying he was okay…then Preeya’d put him out of her head and heart as best she could.

Right.

She opened her text message string to Ben for the third time since her
no-call
promise.

Still a reverberating
blank
.

She clicked out of that screen to her
never-deleted
summary list of texters. Where a new unopened text stared at her. From Evan.

God, I miss you. Channel 4 anchor or
Good Morning America
, wouldn’t matter. I’d still miss you, Pree.

She sighed. He obviously needed more closure.

No more “easy road,” Preeya.
She’d have to handle this. Evan didn’t deserve to hurt.

After a reunion brunch with Gigi, she would be registering on campus, only minutes from his place. She’d give him a call, meet up for coffee, maybe. She’d explain, help him move on. God, there was so much to say, and he of all people deserved to hear it.

She texted him and got a
lightning-fast
response:
Yes, our old spot, 3PM?

Yes, sounds perfect. TTYL.

*

She walked toward Gigi and waved—
always on time, that girl.
She’d always teased Gigi—the most organized and punctual mind reader on the planet. “It’s the
detective-dad
genes I wear,” Gigi would say.

And wow did her best friend know Preeya—her friend had even brought along a magazine for the assumed wait.
But no more of that.
Preeya’d gotten hooked on punctuality since Houston those forever weeks ago.

She even got herself a new working watch to celebrate—and to cover the tat until she could figure out what to do with it. “Hey, you.”

“Hey, yourself!” Gigi popped up and threw her arms around Preeya and swayed them back and forth.

“It’s only been a few weeks, Geej.” She felt queasy, like her friend had squeezed all the oxygen from her body.

“Five weeks, Pree. There was a chance to catch each other in the middle there, remember? But you stood me up for Joshie the Hard Rocker.”

Ugh.
“You mean the
not-so
-hard rocker,” Preeya mumbled, scoffed then swallowed hard, that queasy feeling turning into a spike of nausea from the mere thought of Josh Bolte.

“You’re white as a ghost…he was that bad, huh?” Gigi grabbed a water bottle from her purse and handed it to her. “Drink.”

Preeya downed it and sighed with slight relief. “Thanks.”

“
Welks.
So I never did get the
Josh
details from you…but maybe not worth talking about?” Gigi grabbed Preeya’s hand and took a step back to give her some breathing room.

“No, it’s not that…I mean, yes, it was
that
bad, but no, I’ve been feeling sick to my stomach since, well, since….”
Ben.
Since he’d left. Because of
her
dumb ass.

And the bouts of nausea from nerves kept coming daily. But she hadn’t really told Gigi anything of Ben since day one in Vallarta. Or any of her family shit, either. She’d really been off the grid from her best friend for a record amount of time. And in that time, more had happened to her than the series of mentionable events in her entire adult life. “Let me just run to the bathroom real quick and then we can sit and chat over chocolate ice cr—oh God, Geej.” Bubbling rage just above her gut. “Gotta run.” She didn’t run but flew to the restroom.

A second later, “Comin’ with,” Gigi said out of breath. She locked her arm in Preeya’s and shuffled along at top speed.

When they got to the mall’s restroom, Preeya zoomed into a stall and hurled. She at least came out feeling better—for the time being. She knew as soon as Ben—his deadly expedition, her guilt, her heart hole—entered her mind again, she’d be back to it.

“Preeya,” Gigi said, washing her hands while looking through the mirror at a mother changing her infant at the changing station. “Would you be the godmother of my baby?”

Preeya paused in the middle of rinsing her face, water dripping down her nose. “Uhh…when you have one…of course. There’s no question, Geej.”

“Good. Because”—Gigi hit the explosively loud
hand-drying
machine which drowned out all spoken word and didn’t shut off until Gigi’s rhetorical monologue did.

Preeya laughed at Gigi, her best friend’s smile wide and glowing like a kid with big news.

“Hey, why are you laughing?”

“I didn’t hear you, Geej, that’s why.” Preeya moved to the quieter paper towel option by the door.

“I said…because Rod and I are pregnant!”

Mouth dry, eyes bugged, Preeya’s lungs filled with a rush of air, fueling a scream louder than the
jet-powered
hand dryer times ten. “Gigi! You’re having a baby? A real kid? A real baby person!”

“And, Pree…”

“What, Geej?” she asked, squeezing her best friend’s hands with
out-of
-control excitement and awe and fear, because that’s what she’d be if she were in Gigi’s shoes!

“So are you.”

“Excuse me?” she rasped, mouth drier, eyes wider. Lungs hitched. Because she didn’t hear right.

“You, my friend, are pregnant, too.”

No.
“No.”
She’s fucking with me.
“I’m not.”
Factually
not.

“Yes, Pree, you are. And God, I hope it’s not—” Gigi paused, maybe having noticed Preeya’s eye roll switch to
death stare
within a baby heartbeat.

It wasn’t funny. Visions and feelings and senses from the ethers about, well, just about anything else—
fine!
—but not about this.
A baby?
Everything trembled, head to toe, inside and out.

“Nope, never mind.” Gigi swallowed. “It’s not
his
…I don’t see any fiery flames of
asshole
or anything,” she said, stepping back to gauge Preeya’s body, her belly, her aura? “Just a warm, golden glow. Yeah, not Josh’s, no way is it Josh’s.”

Preeya felt dizzy and heavy and light all at once. And still quaking, the shock hit her brain and jumbled everything about.
Not Josh’s. A baby. Gigi’s baby. Glow. Nausea.

Nausea.
Of course.
Just nerves over Ben?
Jesus.
Her chronic obliviousness toward her life, her body…and her period?
Who actually ever keeps track of their cycle?
She’d always guessed a day on her GYNO’s questionnaire
.
And she’d thought she’d been better about the pill but…
fuck,
she couldn’t say for sure. Every night and city and hotel bathroom merged together. She swallowed back another swell of nausea, then turned on a dime and ran to a stall, slamming into a woman on her way. No time to even apologize—the retching took her voice and breath away. Gigi had to hold the door closed for her because she hadn’t gotten the chance to lock it.

“You’ll see, Pree, it’s gonna be great. So, so unbelievably great…us being pregnant together! I mean, it’s a dream!”

*

Preeya put her hands on either side of a sink and attempted to catch her breath.
Fuck.

She leaned into the sink, scared to glance at herself in the mirror of the crappy mall bathroom. She turned the water on, cupped some into her face, her burning cheeks and eyes.

Gigi handed her a piece of paper towel.

“Thanks, Geej,” she whispered.

Gigi squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll go grab a water from the vending machine outside the door. Be right back.”

Water, yes. And breathe. Chill.

And as she mellowed, a small glint of hope crept in.

Because Gigi had been wrong before. Yeah, wrong about…well…there was…

Nothing
.

Gigi had never been wrong about any ethereal call she’d made about new life or pending death, at least not in Preeya’s presence. Gigi’d known about a chick in high school, an acquaintance of theirs who had gotten knocked up then had an abortion before anyone besides Gigi, and therefore Preeya, knew about it. And then there’d been the wrestling captain their senior year. Overdosed at a house party. If not for Gigi, who knew if they would have ever found him in that unfinished basement? She’d also known about the death of her grandfather weeks before his passing—the man had been an ox.

And every year in school, some teacher was pregnant—Gigi’d called it each and every time, and long before any baby bumps began. Oh, and Preeya’s favorite: the ten tiny gerbil babies in fourth grade. The classroom pet, Big Al, had actually been
super-pregnant
Alice. A snicker escaped her there in the thankfully empty restroom. She ventured a glance up at the mirror then in a foreverblink she hid behind her swollen eyelids.

Please let Gigi be wrong
. Because just like her best friend had freaked out their entire
fourth-grade
class with her impossible gerbil premonition, Preeya felt this close to freaking the fuck out now.

“I need to take a test,” she mumbled when Gigi returned with a water. Preeya took the bottle without looking up at Gigi, scared shitless to crush her friend’s heart with her doubt—Preeya had never doubted Gigi, she’d been the only one in the world to
never doubt
her.

But on the other hand, this was much larger than a litter of damn gerbils.

“Yeah, I need to get to a drugstore and pick one up.” She forced her eyes up. “It’s just too much, Geej. It’s too goddamn big. I need to see the sign on a stick.”

“Of course, Pree. Yes, it’s huge, and yes, you should take a test—like at a doctor’s. At
my
doctor’s. She’s alternative, like a midwife but—”

“Gigi, please. No doctor yet.” God. “Just a
pee-on
-
a-stick
now
kind of test. Need to be taking one step at a time, here.” Gigi’s excitement, despite Preeya’s dread, was driving her nuts. “One baby step at a friggin’ time.”

She rinsed her face one last time, pumped the lever of the paper towel dispenser and ripped, then wadded and tossed it. “I need to leave this bathroom now.” The association alone was making her gut surge again.

She and Gigi walked down the long corridor and passed ten strollers in a matter of seconds. Fine, two. Two goddamn baby strollers with babies—one cooing, one crying—and their doting, glowing mothers.

“Awww…”

Preeya glared at Gigi then picked up her pace, needing more than anything to get her hands on a pregnancy test, like, yesterday.

Because,
a baby
? Preeya thought of her mother.

Now
she’d
be a mother
—possibly—
to a tiny, innocent baby.

A chance to right her own mother’s wrongs?

A soaring gust filled her chest. She’d be the best mother humanly possible, taking all the boiling, buried hurt and spinning it into magic. For her baby.

A
baby…

Ben’s baby.
For certain
Ben’s
baby.

Ben’s baby…without
Ben
.

“Pree? You okay?”

Am I okay?
She’d be raising this baby,
his
—no,
theirs—
on her own. Alone.

In an instant her lungs went airless, shoulders sunk. She felt beaten. Old panic renewed.

Count, breathe, calm.

“Are you? Answer me.” Gigi grabbed her hand.

Preeya nodded as she finished a mental
one-to
-ten in a second flat.

Start over, slow down.
She had to find the peace she’d felt that morning. Psyched to see her best friend for fun and
epiphany-sharing
then to sign up for classes…

Shit!

“Gigi, I’ve got to register for classes today.”

“I think that’ll have to wait, Pree. You’re completely flushed. Let’s take the afternoon to—”

“No, Geej. It can’t wait. Today is the summer term deadline. And if I am, you know…I need to get my ass in gear. I mean, a kid?” She was suddenly so thirsty, but she’d left the damn bottle back in the bathroom. “A kid on my own? I need to support it,
us
. And I’ve got my plan. I need to start my—”

“Your plan can wait.”

“It can’t!”

“Then it can
change
. But, Pree, you need to stay calm.” Gigi squeezed her hand. “You can always hit the fall semester or next summer after the baby’s—”

“No. School to residency to career. That’s the plan, the
only
plan.” She shook her head. Gigi just didn’t get it. No more talk; only action would do. It had been decided on the beach in Vallarta—with the sea as her goddamn witness.