Crashing Souls (35 page)

“Quit it with the nursery talk….” My words stopped and my jaw hung open when I saw it was Ralph in front of me.

“What the fuck, Noa?” His wide eyes took in my pregnant belly while I took in his large frame filling my doorway. What the hell?

“How’d you get in here?” I didn’t mean to sound like I didn’t want him here. But damn it, a warning would’ve been nice.

“I let him in,” Miranda announced as she stepped around, rubbing my swollen belly in passing. “Hi there, baby baby.” She always sounded like an idiot when she tried to coo.

I stepped aside and let Ralph in.

“I’m suing Larry,” I said under my breath.

Miranda ignored me and Ralph sat on my couch, looking like I told him the world was actually upside down and that meant that he was a girl.

“Have you never seen a pregnant woman before, Ralph?” I asked with mock politeness. “Sorry, I haven’t had company in a long time. And I’m hungry.”

Miranda walked back in and offered me an apple. I took it with a scowl.

“Apparently I don’t count as company because I’ve seen her naked,” she announced and sat on the arm chair. I couldn’t even pretend to be surprised. Miranda was a lady, the kind with class and a filthy mind to boot.

“Would it be rude to ask you who the father is?” Ralph asked.

“Yes,” Miranda snapped out. I rolled my eyes.

“
You know its Dexter’s.” We all stood there quietly, the hum of the air conditioner the only sound. I took a bite of my apple and sat next to Ralph.

“He doesn’t know, Noa,” he said, and I knew I’d have to tell him everything. So I did. And his face reddened with anger. “That little dipshit.”

I was taken aback. Ralph was actually on my side?

“I mean, what you did was wrong,”
Just kidding.
“But he shouldn’t have left you to go back to Rachel.”

I was going to ask it. The question was coming up like a sickness in my belly, determined to be let out.

“Is he married yet?” It was quick, like ripping off a Band-Aid.

“Not that I know of. I didn’t even know they were engaged.” He sat forward, and I knew this wasn’t the reason he’d come here. “Molly’s dead, Noa. Her funeral is tomorrow afternoon. You have to be there.”

I dropped my apple and stood, quickly telling him where he could put his invitation.

“You know she’d want you there, Noa. And, despite his shit way of proving it, Dexter needs you there. He hasn’t been the same since you guys split up.”

“We didn’t split up,” I yelled. “He fucking left me! Again! To go be with Rachel, the sweetest bitch in the world.” I picked up whatever was nearest and threw it. My remote hit the wall and pieces flew everywhere. “This is what happens when I’m pissed off and hurt, and I have no way of releasing that. I can’t paint, I can’t run. I can’t have sex! What the fuck.” I sat back down, my arms crossing over my belly. Instantly, my hands went to the mound and I felt a hefty kick. My eyes, which were filled with tears of anger, quickly crinkled with joy. I grabbed Ralph’s hand and pressed it to where my nugget was having a field day.

“Do you feel it?” I asked, careful not to let any gender slip.

Ralph
looked afraid, and I heard Miranda whisper that I was a psycho. I giggled and he relaxed.

“Is it a boy or a girl?”

“She’s superstitious. It’s a surprise,” Miranda announced with a sweet smile. I knew she wasn’t being sweet at all. It annoyed her to no end that I wasn’t preparing for this baby. In her mind, it was like the baby wasn’t even coming, like I didn’t love it or even want it. If only she understood. Although she’d been there with Anna, she hadn’t experienced it herself. It wasn’t something that could be easily explained.

Ralph nodded and I let his hand drop.

“I know you two have your issues, but you’d be welcome there, Noa. Please try to make it.” He took out his card and handed it to me. “Let me know if you need anything at all.” He hugged me before leaving.

It felt wrong to shrug it off. He’d traveled all the way here.

But seeing Dexter wasn’t what was best for me.

Was it what was best for the baby? I wasn’t so sure. Having parents who couldn’t stand the sight of each other…I’d lived that life. My baby wouldn’t.

“Let’s go on and pack you a bag,” Miranda said as soon as the door shut behind Ralph. It had to be the hormones. I didn’t hate her this much when I wasn’t pregnant.

“No.”

She shifted in her seat, preparing to argue with me. Only I was too drained to argue with her.

“You’re going to take your time and think about it and finally decide to go. Why prolong the inevitable? I know you. And I’ve decided I’ll come along. I’ll be your caretaker.” She announced with a sincere smile. “I’ll even call your hot doctor and get permission.”

“I can wipe my own ass, thanks,” I grumbled. She laughed and I couldn’t help but chuckle too. She was
right.
I needed to be around people again. I was turning into a monster.

“We need to get you out of the house, you ornery old lady.” I laughed even harder.

“Fine. Pack our shit, caretaker.”

•••

The next morning, after having gotten the go-ahead from my doctor, Miranda had us sitting posh in first class.

“You do realize that the best hotel there is just shy of a two star, right?” I looked at her face, ready for the pucker of distaste. She simply nodded.

“I made reservations at a lovely bed and breakfast. They have Wi-Fi. I’m not afraid of living like the other half.” I sat back and placed my sleep mask over my face.

“That isn’t even
close
to how the other half lives,” I said with a snort. I pretended to be unaffected as I sat there next to a truly unaffected woman. It was easier with my eyes covered. Miranda couldn’t see the anxiety written on my face.

I turned in my seat and fell asleep before the plane even took off.

I woke up at the tail-end of the flight and saw that Miranda had the latest issue of
Harper’s Bazaar
open.

“Oh, good. You’re awake.” She faced me and tossed her magazine aside. “Have you thought of any baby names? I have some suggestions, but I’ll save those for when you ask me my opinion.”

There was that ingrained etiquette. But mixed with her mouthy ways, it wasn’t as smooth as it might’ve been.

“Tell me your suggestions, Miranda.” I shoved my sleep mask in my purse. I hadn’t started carrying a purse until I realized how hungry I might be while out and about. Not that I was ever out and about until I decided
to
go back home and mourn a woman who recognized me as the dead girl her dead son once loved.

“Well, this lady has a nice name. The one who died. Molly is pretty for a girl. And, obviously, Dexter for a boy.” She sipped her coffee and I eyed it with envy. She held out the cup and I glared at her. She knew I wouldn’t take it. It wasn’t good for my nugget.

“I can’t call the baby Dexter if it’s a boy. I would never be able to yell at him. I’d probably cry every time I said his name. Besides, Dexter doesn’t even know about the baby. That’d be a little strange.” Miranda opened her mouth to speak, but thankfully, the fasten seatbelt lights came on and a flight attendant approached, telling us to lift our trays and taking the coffee from Miranda. “Welcome to hell,” I said under my breath.

She actually had the gall to look excited.

We went through baggage claim at a slow pace. My feet hurt in my flip flops, which offered no support. But I couldn’t bring myself to shove the swollen things in shoes, so flip flops it was. When a minivan rolled up, I couldn’t help but laugh. She asked me what was so funny and I shook my head, my stroll down memory lane being one I took alone. It was raining heavily, much to my annoyance.

When I’d told Ralph I was coming, he sent me all of the details. We still had another two hours before it began, so I told her to take us to the bed and breakfast. I’d begged Ralph not to tell Dexter I was coming and he agreed. It was my deepest hope that we’d either not see one another or I’d leave before he saw me. Unlikely, but it could happen. And it would happen if I had any control over the situation.

I wasn’t here for him.

Seeing him…it was going to affirm the need to stay away because I was so sure Rachel would be with him, and a perverse part of me needed to see them together
to
really move forward. The final nail in the coffin. I was constantly seeing Dexter in my thoughts. He was around every corner. He was a ghost in my bed, an apparition standing behind me whenever I looked in the mirror. I felt him even when I wanted to feel nothing. I worried that my need to be emotionless would lead me down a dark path once again, but my love for my child saved me in a way Dexter Andrews could not.

Miranda carried the bulk of the baggage, which I thought was fair since the majority of it was hers anyway. When we stepped to the counter, I felt all of my patience leaving me like a balloon being deflated. I was dripping wet and exhausted, and now this?

“Noa?” Becca looked a great deal heavier, her cheeks protruding from her smile. This coming from the heaviest woman in the room. But life had been good to Becca. She had laugh lines and a glow about her. Life hadn’t been good to me, so I acted my role: a woman scorned.

“Oh, hi.” Becca continued to try to make small talk, asking me how I’d been when I snatched the room key from her hand and waddled down the hall. The house looked lovely, and when I opened the room door, I was pleasantly surprised. Becca Hamilton was doing well for herself. Miranda trailed in after me, struggling with the luggage.

“Well, that went to shit,” she said with a huff. All etiquette flew out of the window. I grinned, glad we were both in bad moods.

I sat on one of the beds, calling dibs. I couldn’t wait to take a shower, the rain and sticky air making my clothes feel like a second skin.

“That nice lady said it’s been raining non-stop for two weeks. Terrible. What will we do now?” Miranda called out after I closed myself in the bathroom to wash up. I waited until I was finished to step out and answer.

“
That means we’ll be home sooner. Thank God.” I rifled through my bag, noticing time had passed quicker than I’d planned. We had a half hour to get there. I pulled out my black dress and got ready.

“You look so sad. Did you know her well?” Miranda asked.

I shook my head. I felt like I was getting ready for my own funeral.

•••

We were late. Miranda was too much of a diva to understand the term “punctual” when it came to getting ready. The businesswoman in her checked out the moment we climbed aboard the plane. Late to a funeral. Full of people. One of them being the man who I’d ruined after he ruined me. We were such tattered messes.

Maybe Rachel could heal Dexter. Maybe she’d be good to him. She certainly seemed better for him than I was, despite the fact that she was secretly a villain. If I wore my crazy out in the open like clothes, Rachel wore hers like undergarments, only ever revealing it seductively, using it to get over and ahead. She was good. She’d even fooled me. Fucking saint-colored demon that she was. But she was what he wanted.

I was going to hyperventilate. Miranda looked over at me from the driver’s side of the minivan with concern. With the engine off, the sound of rain pelting against metal was more apparent. I focused on the sound, trying to ignore my feelings.

“You be strong, you hear me?” she asked with more strength than I could muster. Someone who didn’t know me well would’ve asked me if I was okay. Miranda knew I wasn’t, so she didn’t smother me with that ridiculous question.

I nodded and she nodded. Then we opened the van doors to head inside.

We
hustled through the rain to the front door. I cringed when we entered the building after everyone was already seated. My eyes searched the room, trying to suck in my stomach. I felt so stupid. What idiot would try to suck in their pregnant belly? Only once I lowered myself to sit did the someone I was looking for look back. Eyes that used to love seeing me widened and glanced away. I stood, feeling my world crumbling even though the building and its foundation never shook. Miranda grabbed me and urged me with her eyes to sit. I looked over at him again and noticed Rachel sitting next to him, her hand rubbing circles on his back.
Bitch.

What was I doing here? I wanted to cry and run out. But I wasn’t going to risk harm to my nugget, so I sat back and listened to the ceremony. There were plenty of tears shed and even my own eyes watered. She’d been a lovely woman, and the world had been brighter when she was in it. Greg Sr. came up to the podium, and though his speech was short, it was a kick in the chest.

“Molly, I miss our boy. And now I’m missing you.” He looked down and dabbed at his eyes with a balled-up tissue. “But I know that I was lucky enough to have you both for as long as I did, even if others are given more than what I got. So, I’ll see you both next time around.” He stepped off and my emotions were everywhere.

Once the ceremony was finished, we were told where to proceed for the burial. Miranda looked at me curiously and I shook my head. This was all I was willing to offer. I saw Ralph head toward us, and I hoped he wouldn’t make me stand. My eyes flew to where Dexter had been sitting, but he wasn’t there anymore; Rachel was, and when she saw me, her eyes widened as Dexter’s had. I wanted to flip her the bird but I turned to face Ralph again, still seated. I didn’t know where Dexter was, but I’d hoped he left already. Or maybe he’d catch another glimpse of me—from the chest up, of course—and ignore me.

Maybe
he’ll think the baby isn’t his
. Yeah, right. It wasn’t until Ralph sidestepped that I saw Dexter was behind him, headed for us with a cool gaze. My heart hit my feet. I stood and turned away, struggling through the throng of people. Dexter, in those few moments, saw my red face, my pregnant belly, and my wide bottom, courtesy of carrying his child, as I tried to scoot around everyone.

Once I got outside, the rain was downpouring. People were rushing to their cars, wrestling with umbrellas, or standing inside the doorway. I didn’t waste time making my way down the road. The water flooding the streets made my flip flops squish, and I kicked them off with a hurried impatience. I gathered the sopping wet black cotton of the maxi dress’ skirt and hobbled off.