Picturing Perfect (19 page)

"Oh," Jason said, sighing softly into his phone. "Do you want some company? I could bring a movie and a pizza."

"Jase," I said gently, my heart sinking as I said his name.

I hate this
.

Jason sighed again. He understood what I was doing. He knew I was pushing him away. I was scared to death and he probably knew that, too.

"Yeah, sure. Um…I guess I'll see you on Thursday then?" he said as he cleared his throat.

"Thank you for the gift. I can't even express to you how much it meant to me."

"You're welcome, Haddie."

I placed my phone on the counter and walked like a zombie back to my room. Turning on the shower, I climbed in to wash the smell of fresh pine and grass from my hair and body. Smelling like the photo shoot would only make me think of Jason and how much he loved me. How much he would do to make me happy. How I wouldn't allow him to do anything else because of how much I loved him in return.

My tears joined the hot water as it spilled down my chest and swollen belly. The baby kicked against my side. And it was the only thing that kept me from sinking to my knees.

"Hi, sweet pea." I said through my sobs, pressing my fingers into my belly.

This tiny person was my first priority. He had to come first, no matter what. I would worry about my own happiness later.

What the hell is that?

I gasped in horror. There was blood in my underpants. Not a lot of blood, just a few spots. But, my heart raced and my stomach dropped to my knees.
When was the last time the baby kicked?
I honestly didn't remember.
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god
.

I raced to my kitchen and dialed the emergency line for Dr. Myers' office. The nurse on duty instructed me to come in right away for an ultrasound. I took a fast shower, got dressed, and grabbed a banana from the kitchen.

On my way to the hospital, I called Ellie. I had no idea if I'd be able to go to work today…physically or mentally. Every time I came to grips with the pregnancy, I was thrown another curve ball—another crisis or critical moment that made me question whether or not I was cut out to be a mother.

I arrived at the office and was taken promptly to an examination room. Dr. Myers was already waiting for me. Her face was painted with concern and it scared me to death.

"Okay, let's take a look," she said, placing the gel on the plastic device in her hand. She rubbed the gel onto my belly as well.

"Are you still bleeding?"

"No," I replied.

"Have you felt much movement this morning?" she asked.

"No, none," I said, choking out the words.

"Deep breaths," she said with a reassuring expression that, unfortunately, did absolutely nothing to reassure me.

Within seconds, she located the baby. I took a deep breath just as the corners of her mouth curled towards her nose. The heart was beating like crazy and I saw my boy moving his tiny fingers.

"Is he okay?" I asked. "Is he going to be okay?"

"He appears to be just fine. And, some other good news is that your placenta has moved higher inside your uterus, which is what we were hoping for."

"So, there's nothing to worry about?"

"Well," she began, "the bleeding was probably from the recent movement of your placenta. Or, it could be stress induced. Have you done anything out of the ordinary?"

"I moved into my own place not too long ago."

"Well, that could do it. I'd like to put you on temporary bed rest. I'd also like to do some tests on your urine and blood just to be safe."

"Bed rest? For how long?"

"Let's do two weeks for now. As long as the bleeding doesn't come back, you can go back to work. But for now, you need to have your feet up and avoid stress whenever you can."

My heart sank knowing that I'd be away from Sunnyside. The performance was in just a few weeks and I needed to make sure Lucy was conquering her stage fright. We needed costumes and props. There were still
so
many things to be done. I wondered how much, if anything, could be done from my apartment…

Ding-dong.

The ring of the doorbell woke me from my nap. I'd been sleeping a lot that week. I was bored out of my mind—wishing I was at work, with my clients, planning the big performance and teaching my daily classes. Instead, I was following doctor's orders, lying in bed for most of the day, checking Facebook way too often and reading books on my Kindle. I was hoping and praying Dr. Myers would let me return to work since the bleeding had completely stopped days ago. I missed work so much. And the show was quickly approaching. They needed me.

Mom was worried since I was no longer living with her. She wanted to take care of me, which meant more than she could possibly understand. But, the fact remained that the baby and I needed a place that was just for us…away from her uncertainty and muted moods. I wanted my baby to feel loved…all the time. And living with my mother made that a lofty goal.

Making my way to the front door of my apartment, I opened it and yawned. There was no one there. But, when I looked down, I found a large basket filled with all sorts of things…movies, candy, and other items. But, what jumped out at me were the large paperback novels front and center in the basket. My breath hitched as I picked up the basket and placed it on my kitchen counter. A card with my name faced me. I knew who it was from. As much as I tried to fight it, I fell in love with Jason more and more with each passing day. And I was pretty sure this basket would send me over the edge.

Opening the pastel blue envelope with shaky hands, I removed the card. Ferris Bueller was flashing his signature grin at me, with his arms crossed. When I opened it, I heard the "Oh Yeah" song play. A simple note was written on the inside of the card, "H, I know you're bored. Hoping to help you pass the time." It was unsigned but I knew
exactly
who it was from.

Placing the card on the Formica, my hands glossed over the three paperbacks written by Whitman Kelly. Out of curiosity, I opened the first one. As I'd hoped, there was a note.

"For Hadley. I hope you enjoy my writing." Silly man had no idea that I'd already read every one of his books. But I'd happily read them again. The other two books had notes as well. I hugged them to my chest as I walked to my bookshelf. Gingerly, I placed them on the top shelf, giving them a spot of prominence in the room before heading back to the basket and all the undiscovered goodies that still awaited me.

My three favorite candies were the next things I discovered: Swedish Fish, Twizzlers and Reese's Pieces. Yum. The man really did pay attention! Either that, or he gathered really good intel from his sister. Two gossip magazines were next. He knew I was addicted to Hollywood gossip. Two 80s movie packs were next…with post-it notes that said, "Hope you don't already own these!"

Man, he made me smile like no one else could. As I stared at the post-it note in my hand, the bright square brought me to an odd sense of déjà vu. My heart raced and memories bounced around clumsily in my brain.

Post-it notes. Post-it notes.

Tucker always used post-it notes when he left me gifts…didn't he? Bracing myself with the counter, I walked unsteadily to the bedroom. My lungs struggled to breathe.

Carefully, I lowered myself to the floor and pulled a small shoebox out from under the bed. I was tempted to throw these away after our breakup, but wanted to remember the good in Tucker. I wanted to have something to go to in the future when he inevitably let me down or let our child down. Because I knew it
would
happen. I wanted to remember a time when he was supportive and thoughtful, kind and adoring. But, it wasn't him. He wasn't that person. And things were suddenly becoming clear.

Removing the lid of the box, I sifted through the post-it notes. One after another with similar, unsigned messages. In the exact same handwriting as today's green post-it stuck to the movie boxes. I was elated, yet destroyed. I was thrilled, yet betrayed.

"Hadley, something just arrived for you," my mother said from the kitchen. I raced down the steps. I hoped it was another care package. Tucker had been leaving care packages on our doorstep every few days since my dad started chemo. Movies, candy, books, flowers. Every time, it was different. But, aside from making my dad smile, these packages were what I lived for. I was home for the summer and it was a lovely June afternoon.

My mom gave me a weak smile as she placed the basket in my hands. A simple green post-it note sat on today's package…a gift card to a local bookstore as well as two boxes of my favorite green tea and a plastic bear filled with honey. I had the best boyfriend in the world. The post-it simply read, "H, enjoy a book and a warm drink. Lose yourself in fiction." It wasn't signed, but I knew who it was from. Every time a gift arrived, I'd call Tucker and thank him for his latest generosity. And every week, he always said, "You're welcome" or "No need to thank me" or "I love you, baby." And every night, I'd go to sleep knowing just how lucky I was to have a boyfriend who cared so much to show me over and over again. He knew how much my father's illness was hurting me. He knew how much my father meant to me. And he was determined to put a smile on my face, even if it was only once every few days.

For years, I thought Tucker was the one who was thinking of me, supporting me, loving me through his gifts and surprises. But, it was Jason. He didn't want recognition—he didn't need it. He was just trying to take care of me. Just as he was now. Grabbing on to the bedframe, I pulled myself up off the floor and picked up the phone. He answered after two rings.

"It was you," I said.

"Guilty as charged. I thought you might want to read my stuff. And I've heard pregnant women love candy." I could hear his smile through the phone.

I'm in love with him. Completely head over heels in love with this man.

A moment passed and I still didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to collect my thoughts or my emotions. I was awestruck.

"Haddie, what's the matter? I was just trying to cheer you up."

"And take care of me," I added.

"Well…yeah. Is that okay?" Nervous laughter escaped his mouth. He didn't understand the discovery I'd just made. The absolutely overwhelming realization that I had finally come to after three years of false memories.

"When my dad was sick…the presents…that was you." The other end of the phone line held only silence. "Jase!"

"Yeah, that was me." His words were soft and hesitant. "But…I thought you knew that."

"No. I thought it was Tucker…for years. Until this afternoon."

"Oh," he said with a sigh. "Well, I guess I'm glad you know now."

"I wish I'd realized it then. I'm…I'm so sorry, Jase."

"Don't apologize. I just wanted to take care of you."

"You still do," I replied.

"Yeah," he said, and I could hear his smile return. Relief filled my lungs as I took a deep breath in and out.

"I'm done pushing you away," I said, matter of fact.

"What? No, Haddie. Don't do this out of guilt. Don't feel sorry for me."

"No, no. That's not it. I've been fighting myself for months and I don't want to do it anymore. I want to be with you, Jase. If you still want me."

"Of course I do. But, I think we should wait till after the baby's born. You're so full of emotions and hormones right now…especially being on bed rest. I want you to be sure."

"Oh," I said, taken aback at how much this man cared for me…that he'd prolong his own happiness just to make sure I was certain in my decision.

I'm so lucky.

"It doesn't change how I feel about you. I promise."

I smiled into the phone. "Me neither."

"And when you're ready, after he's born, I'll take you on a proper date."

"Sounds good to me," I said with a smile. Jason Kelly warmed my heart in a way I didn't know was possible.

"Are your feet up?" His voice changed. He sounded fatherly and stern.

"No, but I'm going to put them up and read as soon as we hang up. I promise."

"Okay. I'll check on you later."