Never Doubt Me (19 page)

I was truly excited to get to know this new little person. But now, I will never, ever have that chance.

I want to go to Missy and comfort her. I long to comfort her mom, too. And Nick sure looks in need of support. But just then, Mrs. Metzger leans more heavily on Nick, their shared grief joining them.

I step away to give them some space. Wrapping my arms around myself, I feel like I could use some comforting as well. But comfort won’t be found here. My comfort is at home, where Chase is waiting for me. I can’t wait to see him, to have him wrap his arms around me. He finds it hard to believe, but he gives my life meaning and clarity. He makes things right.

I’ve done so well these past few weeks. The despair and grief that shaded my life for so long—over the death of my sister, Sarah—has lessened due to Chase. He brings me joy and shows me there is beauty in life, like he’s told me I do for him. But most important, he
gives
me life.

This sad turn of events is a reminder of how fragile life is, how things can change in an instant. One minute a life exists, growing and flourishing, and in just a second, that life can be extinguished.

Taken away, and gone forever.

Chapter Fifteen

Chase

A
fter I finish talking on the phone with Kay, I toss my cell to the kitchen table and go back into the living room, where Will is watching TV.

Turning the volume down, he immediately asks, “Is that Missy girl going to be all right?”

I plop down on the couch next to him. “Not sure,” I respond. “Kay’s waiting to get word from Missy’s mom.”

“Is it true she’s pregnant?” Will asks quietly.

I look over at him. “How do you know that?”

He holds up his cell phone. “Jared called while you were talking to Kay. He said he overheard the paramedics talking.”

I nod once. “Yeah, Will, it’s true.”

My brother lets out a low whistle. “Shit, bro, now it’s even more fucked up that Jared crashed into her.”

“Yeah”—I scrub a hand down my face—“seems this whole day is fucked up.”

“Glad I wasn’t with him,” my brother whispers.

“Me too,” I whisper back.

While we sit with that thought, letting the gravity of it sink in, I again consider whether I should question Will as to why he and Jared were at Kyle’s house earlier. However, like I told Kay, I don’t expect to get a straight answer. And I sure as hell have no desire to argue with my brother right now. So, since he’s obviously not fucked up in any way, I decide to leave it for another day.

“What’re you watching?” I ask Will as I grab for the remote.

“Hey!” He yanks his hand away, maintaining control of the channels. “It’s
SportsCenter
.”

“Okay, okay,” I concede, hands in the air. “We’ll watch that.”

Will keeps his grip on the remote but lowers his hand back down to rest on his leg. It’s then that I notice he’s wearing the same pair of jeans he had on the day we started on the mural in the school. I know these are the same jeans because there’s this perfectly round drop of cinnamon-brown paint right above his knee. It’s the droplet that fell from Will’s paintbrush when he stepped back to assess his work. Guess it never washed out.

That day with my brother feels like a million years ago. All the shit that has happened since then—it’s crazy. I decide to forgo questioning Will about Kyle Tanner, tomorrow, the next day, whenever. I just want to enjoy the next few days with my little brother before he leaves town.

Will and I sit together awhile longer, commenting on baseball highlights. But when I catch little bro yawning, I nudge him with my elbow and say, “Hey, you should go get some sleep.”

“Yeah”—he yawns again—“I think I will.”

After Will retires to his room, I watch a little more TV. I expect Kay to walk through the door any minute, but truth be told, I am beat and end up nodding off before she returns.

I awake some time later to find that the TV has been turned off and that Kay is curled up next to me on the couch. She’s sleeping, but when I shift my body beneath her, she wakes up.

Sitting upright, she rubs her eyes and mumbles, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but I didn’t want to wake you when I first got in.” She smiles over at me. “You looked so peaceful.”

Even though she’s smiling, her red-rimmed eyes tell me she’s been crying.

I quickly straighten from where I’m leaned back in the crook of the couch. “What happened at the hospital? Is Missy okay?”

Kay slowly sits back against the cushions, but her eyes hold mine. “Yeah, Missy will recover.”

“That’s good,” I say.

“It’s not all good news, though.” Kay bites her bottom lip and lowers her gaze. When she glances up at me, her eyes are filled with not just tears, but profound sadness. “Missy lost the baby, Chase.”

“Fuck. That’s awful.”

“It is,” Kay agrees. “It’s tragic.” She slumps down into the cushions. “I found out something else tonight, too.”

I raise an eyebrow and wait for her to continue.

“Nick was the father of Missy’s baby, not Tony.”

“Wow, no way.”

Kay quickly averts her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I inquire. “That doesn’t bother you, does it?”

I can’t imagine why the paternity of Missy’s baby matters to Kay, but typical male insecurity makes my throat tighten in worry.

To my relief, Kay rolls her eyes and says, “No, Chase, I’m not bothered at all. I don’t care which Mercurio is the father. I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

I release a held-in breath with an audible exhale of air.
Shit, thank God.

“What’s bothering you, then?”

The second the words leave my mouth, Kay bursts into tears.

“Oh, Chase,” she sobs, “I know it’s stupid, but every time I think of Missy losing this baby it just makes me feel so…
bad
.”

“Baby girl…” I reach for her, and she crawls into my lap. As she wraps her arms around my neck, I hold on to her tightly. “What can I do to make you feel better? Just tell me. I’d do anything for you.”

“I don’t know,” she croaks out against my shoulder, while she’s grasping my T-shirt in her fist. “I guess Missy’s loss reminds me of the losses in my own life.”

I know what Kay really means is that she’s reminded of one big loss—the loss of her sister, Sarah.

I hold her as she lowers her head to my chest and cries softly.

“It’s funny,” she sniffles after a minute, “but I realized at the hospital that I was looking forward to Missy having this baby.” She shifts so she can look up at me. “Chase, just last week, I was helping her set aside baby clothes.” Squeezing her eyes shut and burying her face in my chest again, she adds, “God, all the little outfits were so cute.”

I’m really at a loss as to how to soothe my girl, but I try by saying, “I’m sure Missy will have another chance to be a mom.” I cup Kay’s chin and urge her to look up at me. When her eyes meet mine, I add, “And you’ll have your chance, too.”

“I know,” she replies, nodding into my grasp. “And, to be honest, I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.”

“What have you been thinking?” I ask carefully.

“That I can’t wait to have a baby with you, Chase.”

Suddenly, Kay’s mouth snaps shut, like maybe she’s said too much. But I’m more on board that train of thought than she may realize. First, though, I need to make sure this is what she really wants.

I press my back into the couch cushions and peer down at her. “You sure you really want to have a baby with me?”

She smacks my arm, and I’m happy I’ve finally gotten her to smile. “Of course, Chase. I love you.”

I grab her up in my arms and kiss her. Then as I press my lips to the soft skin on her neck, I murmur, “I love you, too.”

But there’s more I want to say.

When my lips still, Kay tenses.

“What?” She leans back.

My eyes flick to hers. “It’s nothing bad. I was just wondering when you would want to have this baby of ours.”

Her red-rimmed caramels widen. “Um, I don’t know.” She searches my eyes, like she’s looking for guidance, but I’m open to whatever she wants. “Down the road, I guess?”

“Is that a question?” I ask her. “Or your answer?”

She shrugs, and I ask outright, “Kay, would you rather have a baby sooner than, as you say, ‘down the road’?”

She whispers, “Chase, what are you saying?”

I don’t know how to put into words all the things I feel for this woman. But I’ve known for quite some time that I want to make a baby with Kay, all the way back to the day she showed me the journals she keeps to remind her of Sarah. I long to make a life with her still, partly to make up for all she’s lost. But it’s so much more than that. When I dig deep, down into my soul, I know I want this, too. I long to create life with the woman who has shown me living is possible. And not just that it is possible, but that living can be good.

I want this for me, for her—for us. I want this for the baby we can make together and for the love we’d shower on that child.

With all this in mind, in an uncharacteristically shaky voice, I ask Kay, “Would it be so terrible if we didn’t wait?”

She presses her lips together, like she’s contemplating. “It’d be great, Chase,” she says slowly. “But it’s not going to happen anytime soon. I got the Depo shot back in June, remember?”

Shit.
Who would’ve ever thought I’d be cursing responsible birth control? Not me. But I am.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I want to know, “When are you supposed to get another shot?”

Kay looks off to the side and, I assume, calculates the weeks. “The end of September,” she states after a beat.

I arch a brow. “So…don’t get it.”

“Chase,” she breathes out, “I don’t know. I mean, I want to spend my life with you, have kids with you—all of those things. But we’re not even married.”

Ah, so there’s the cause of her hesitation. Hell, I can take care of that shit right now. It may not be ideal, but sometimes you have to grab the opportunity.

Smiling and holding Kay’s gaze, I slip down to the floor. She shoots me a concerned look as I position myself on my knees. Then, facing the woman I love with everything I am, I take her hands in mine.

“I know this is half-assed and less than ideal, but…” I trail off, and when I look up, her eyes are tearing. But not from sadness like before. No, these are happy tears.

My own vision blurs a little, but I forge on. “Make me a happy man, Kay Stanton. Be my wife. Let’s get married, and then we’ll have babies. Or let’s have babies, and then we’ll get married. However you want to do it, sweet girl, is fine by me.”

“You’re really asking me to marry you?”

“Yes, I am. I love you, Kay. Say you’ll marry me. I’ll get you a ring, I promise. And I’ll ask you again, do it all fancy like, if that’s what you want. But say yes right now. Say you’ll marry me. Let me love you forever.”

She nods, once, twice. She keeps nodding, even as she’s sliding to the floor next to me. She then tells me what I want to hear: “Yes.”

I brush her hair back with both of my hands. While my thumbs swipe at the tears on her cheeks, I check to make sure I heard her correctly. “Really? You’ll marry me?”

She nods in my hands. “Yes, of course.”

“Say it again,” I whisper, my lips nearing hers.

“Yes.”

“Again,” I insist, inching closer.

“Yes, Chase. Yes, yes!”

My lips capture hers, and I kiss her, her lips, her cheeks, and right down her beautiful neck. I cover her skin with my love. And though there’s no chance of making a baby tonight, I insist we should practice.

Kay giggles and agrees. “We should definitely practice a lot.” She pulls me to her, whispering against my lips, “And I think we should get started as soon as possible.”

“I could not agree more,” I say, and then that is exactly what we do.

Chapter Sixteen

Kay

M
aybe all the crazy things that have happened lately have resulted in full-on delirium—for both Chase and me. I don’t know, not really. But how else can I explain waking up the morning after discussing love, and marriage, and babies, and suddenly remembering I am now an officially-unofficially engaged woman?

I roll over, smiling, happy. It’s barely dawn, and my cohort in delirium is facing my way. But he’s still sleeping, backlit by early daylight. I don’t want to wake Chase—he looks so peaceful—but the urge to touch him is so strong that I have to reach out, trace the strong line of his jaw.

My touch rouses him. And though his eyes open, we don’t say a word. As the minutes pass, Chase’s lips curve into a smile. And me, I just stare into beautiful blue.

Another beat, and he rolls me onto my back, his body hovering above mine. Suddenly, he pulls the sheet over us to create a cocoon, allowing light the day has birthed to filter in, tingeing our bare skin with a golden glow.

I giggle and he smiles.

We never dressed last night, we were too busy loving. So when Chase lowers his body, all I feel is his warm skin pressed to mine. My breathing picks up, and so does his. I’m so ready for what he has to give me that I spread my legs for him. And he’s in me in an instant, moving, thrusting, and circling his hips.

This is how we start the morning—engaged, in more ways than one, and so very much in love.

Later, at work, things are slow. I have time to keep reliving, over and over in my head, how Chase knelt down before me and asked me to marry him. It sure wasn’t what I expected or how I thought something like that might go, but even so, it was beautiful and felt right.

The sincerity and pure emotion in Chase’s eyes as he was gazing up at me touched my soul. I knew right then and there that his impromptu proposal was perfect in its imperfection.

Imperfectly perfect, just like us.

Before we fell asleep, we discussed whether or not we should share the news of our engagement. But Chase insists he wants to wait until he can buy me a ring and propose once again, as he so eloquently put it, “in the right fucking way.” He says then it will be completely “official.”

Silly man.
He has no idea that last night surpassed anything I’d ever dreamed of. Sincerity and truth mean more than showy formalities. However, I can wait to tell the world if Chase wants me to. I will keep our news quiet. I kind of like the idea, for now, of keeping our engagement our own little special secret.

And then there’s the other topic we discussed—having a baby.
Wow, just wow.

The thought of having Chase’s baby fills me with an almost indescribable joy, a deep, profound feminine sort of satisfaction. But there’s fear there, too. And doubt in myself. I don’t know if I’m quite ready to become someone’s mother. Not that I don’t want to do it now, but, damn, what a huge role to undertake.

What if I’m no good at it? What if I fail at motherhood? I sure feel like I failed in the much less significant role of big sister.

It wasn’t your fault, Kay.
Chase’s words echo through my mind, urging me to cast away my doubt. But despite how far I’ve come in accepting that I am not to blame for Sarah’s death, a part of me will always feel some degree of guilt. That is the part that makes me hesitate to fully embrace the idea of having a child.

Well, I have time
, I remind myself as I pull up the church activities calendar on the computer.

I count back the weeks to June. Then I count forward. Just as I thought, and same as I told Chase last night, I’m not due for another Depo shot until late September. That gives me about six more weeks of birth control protection before any decisions have to be made.

Since I have the activities calendar open, I work on it for a while, updating and adding events. I get lost in what I’m doing until a call comes in, a call from Missy’s mom. She starts the conversation by informing me that Missy is “physically” well enough to be released from the hospital tomorrow morning.

“Oh, that’s great news,” I say.

Since Mrs. Metzger chose the word “physically” to describe Missy’s wellness, I cautiously ask, “How’s Missy doing, like, psychologically.”

Mrs. Metzger clears her throat. “Aw, honey, it’s going to take some time. But Missy will be okay. My daughter is a strong young woman.”

Strong or not, she could probably use a friend
, I think.

“Would it be okay if I stop by to see her tomorrow after work?”

Missy’s mom sighs heavily. “Oh, I don’t know, sweetie. Another day might be better. Missy told me this morning that she’s not quite ready to see anyone just yet.”

My heart aches for Missy and the pain she’s feeling. “Okay, I understand. Another day, then.”

“Personally, Kay,” Missy’s mom begins after a brief pause, “I think Missy should be around people. She needs to get back to doing the things she likes to do.”

The whole time she’s speaking, Mrs. Metzger’s voice is low and conspiratorial, like maybe she and I can somehow keep Missy busy and that will miraculously lessen the pain of her loss.

I doubt anything but time will heal Missy’s emotional wounds, but I don’t say a thing.

Mrs. Metzger is still talking, saying, “Just give her a few more days, honey. And then I bet she’ll be calling you and wanting to get together and go do whatever it is you girls like to do.”

I’m not so sure about that, but I pretend to agree.

After my call with Mrs. Metzger ends, it’s back to work for me. Chase is tied up with a project in the school. He tells me this when he texts me to say that he’s skipping lunch. I’m not very hungry, so I work through lunch, too.

Then, around three o’clock, I receive another text from Chase.

Just finished up. Heading back to the house early.
See you there. Love you, bb.

I know Chase is trying to spend as much time with his brother as he can before he leaves on Tuesday, so I text back:
Enjoy your time with Will.
Should I pick something up for dinner on my way home?

Pizza?

Sure, I’ll stop at Pizza House after work.

That works.
Chase texts back.

A little while later, when I’m in my car after work, I call the restaurant to place the order. It’s stupid, I know, but I’m relieved when someone other than Nick answers the phone. I guess I’m still coming to grips with the fact he was the father of Missy’s baby. Like I told Chase, it doesn’t bother me in any way, but Missy had me so convinced that Tony was the dad that when I learned Nick was the real father it kind of threw me for a loop. And I guess I’m still reeling.

When I return to the house, the pizza is a hit, as it always seems to be. Dinner is pleasant, with the three of us sitting around the kitchen table and making small talk. Will, I take note, is nothing but cheery. It’s like the events of yesterday never even happened.

After dinner, I ask Chase in private if Will has said anything about Cassie—or Paul.

Chase shakes his head. “Nope, not a thing.”

Will’s overly happy demeanor and lack of discussion regarding the Cassie situation has me worried.

Over the next few days, I watch Will closely, waiting for him to either divulge something or have another meltdown. But every minute, every second of every day, Will behaves perfectly. There’s no running off, no drug use, and no more contact with Jared, all of which are choices Will makes without any prompting from his brother.

Since Will remains mum on the subject of Cassie, I decide to reach out to Will’s girlfriend in hopes of finding what, if anything, has been happening with Paul. Has he been picked up by the police? Has he stopped bothering Cassie? How is she handling everything? These are just a few of the things I’d like to know.

So, throughout the weekend and into Monday, I leave a slew of messages. Cassie ignores me, until, on Tuesday, out of the blue, I finally hear back from her via a text.

Sorry I haven’t gotten back to you sooner, Kay. But don’t worry. Everything’s fine. I can’t wait to see Will in two more days. Thursday can’t get here soon enough, ya know?

The message arrives late in the afternoon, just as I’m putting dinner on the table. I’ve prepared a big send-off meal for Will, since he and Chase have to leave for the bus station in a couple of hours. Will’s bus leaves tonight, and as Cassie mentioned in her text, he’s due to arrive in Vegas sometime Thursday.

Since tonight’s dinner is special, we eat in the dining room. When Will is finished eating, he excuses himself from the big oak table.

“I have a few more things to pack,” he explains. He wipes his mouth with a napkin and stands.

My eyes slide to Chase when Will walks out of the room. “Guess he’s leaving the cleaning part to us,” I say in a teasing tone.

Chase laughs. “Looks that way, babe, looks that way.” He starts to gather the dishes on the table, and adds, “Might as well get started now.”

Chase and I clear the table and take everything into the kitchen. He washes the dishes while I dry. At one point, I rest my hip against the sink and wait for him to finish washing a big serving platter. Chase runs the water in the right side of the sink and rinses suds off the platter.

“I hope everything is okay,” I say, sighing.

“What?” He glances my way. “Do you mean with Will?”

“Yeah.”

Holding out the dripping-wet platter, Chase says, “I asked Will last night what’s going on back in Vegas, and he said everything is under control.”

“Everything is under control?” I echo as I take the plate from Chase.

“Yep, those were his exact words.”

After a beat, and a swipe of the dish towel across the serving platter, I wonder out loud, “What does that mean, exactly?”

Chase shrugs. “I don’t know. But Will’s been great these past few days. Maybe that means Paul quit harassing Cassie. I’m thinking the cops must’ve picked Paul up on that restraining order violation.”

I don’t feel so certain, so I say, “It seems like Will would mention that, though.”

“Not necessarily,” Chase replies. “He is a guy, and we don’t always
discuss
everything.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” I interject, eyeing him meaningfully.

“Anyway…” Chase looks away. “Why else would Will remain so calm? You have to admit he’s been in an exceptionally good mood lately.”

Will
has
been in a great mood the past few days, or so he wants us to believe. That’s what I suspect. But my question is, why would he do that? What could Chase’s brother be hiding? I know Chase wants so badly to believe the situation with Cassie and her stepdad has been resolved, but I am not so sure. Will’s behavior has been almost too perfect, orchestrated in a way.

In any case, I don’t want to prolong the conversation and ruin Chase’s last evening with his brother.

We finish up with the dishes, and Chase leans against the side of the sink. He asks me, “Are you sure you don’t want to tag along to the bus station.”

“No”—I stand on my tiptoes, lean toward him, and place a kiss on his cheek—“you should spend these last couple of hours with your brother, just the two of you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, you two go on without me. I’ll say good-bye to Will before he leaves.”

An hour later, I am doing exactly that, out on the front porch. Will has his duffel bag slung over one shoulder and holds the handle of a small suitcase in his hand.

When he sets the suitcase on the porch, Chase grabs it up. “You sure this is everything?” he asks Will.

“Yeah, I made sure I packed everything,” Will replies.

“I’ll meet you at the truck, then, okay?” Chase says. “Take a minute and say good-bye to Kay.”

Chase heads down the porch steps, and I turn to Will.

“Have a safe trip back,” I say as I give him a big hug. “I’m going to miss having you around.”

It’s true. I am going to miss Will. He’s been some trouble, yeah, but his heart is good, just like his brother’s.

Will hugs me back, holding on to me tightly. “I’m so glad I met you, Kay,” he says. “I’m sorry I was an ass at times. But just know I like you. You’re perfect for my brother, in so many ways, and I’m glad he found you. You’re good for him”—his voice cracks—“and he needs you.”

This outpouring of emotion is uncharacteristic of Will, especially on the heels of how calm he’s been the past few days.

I pull back and frown. “Will, is something wrong?”

He rocks back on his heels. “Nah, I guess leaving Ohio is just hitting me more than I thought it would.”

“But I thought you couldn’t wait to go back to Vegas,” I softly inquire.

Will’s eyes dart away, and he rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh, I do want to go back. I mean, it’s just best that I do.”

Huh?

When my brow furrows, Will quickly adds, “I mean, with school starting soon and everything.”

“School doesn’t start for three more weeks, Will.”

He laughs, but it’s a hollow sound. “Gotta prepare, though, right?”

Nodding, I say hesitantly, “I guess so.”

Will hoists his duffel bag higher on his shoulder. “I better get going.”

“You can come back to Harmony Creek anytime, you know that, right? Maybe you can even fly out over Christmas break.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Will replies, his voice heavy and sad. “We’ll see.”

He sounds so final, his tone completely lacking hope. I want to ask him what’s really going on here, since something is clearly not right, but just as I open my mouth to do so, Chase calls out from the truck.

“Come on, little bro, we’re gonna be late.”

Will shoots me a sad smile fraught with finality. And then he walks away.

As I watch the Gartner brothers drive away, I have a sense of dread that something is terribly wrong.