River's Return (River's End Series, #3) (25 page)

Chapter Sixteen

THIS WAS IT. THIS was the event that would surely ruin her life. No. Just no! This could not be happening.
She stared at the little stick in her hand with a horror so real, her hand began trembling and something thick and rancid climbed up her throat. She suddenly flipped around and threw up in toilet she was sitting on.

She was pregnant
.

She vomited her entire breakfast and lunch into the toilet. The dry heaves caused tears to stream down her face as she moaned and groaned until it all came out of her. She flushed the toilet and fell flat onto the floor, clutching her stomach. She lay there crying and sobbing. She could not be pregnant. No! They were always so careful.
Always
. She was careful her whole life. She was not some seventeen-year-old, hormonal teen who
forgot
to use a condom. She did not just “get” pregnant. She didn’t have accidents. She was a thirty-one-year-old woman who couldn’t just accidentally get knocked up. That wasn’t how things went for her. No. No way. Just NO.

But the horrible, little stick she threw on the floor said otherwise.

She cried out of fear, disgust, and shock. She could not muster the strength to even get up off the floor, let alone leave the bathroom and do what? What would she do? Share her wonderful news? Finish grading papers? Tutor Erin?

Taking the stupid test purely out of what felt like due diligence, Allison’s period was two weeks late, which was a little odd for her, but she figured it was just stress induced. While browsing for groceries, she spotted the pregnancy tests, and figured, in a kind of out-of-body-experience, why not just make sure? It was only a precaution. She knew she could not
actually
be pregnant. There was no way, she, Allison Gray, respectable teacher, homeowner, woman who used condoms
every time
she has sex, could be
pregnant
. Not after she vowed and swore, almost with a blood oath, to
never
be pregnant again. Never. Ever. Hell could freeze over. Pigs could start flying in the heavens above. Cows could start singing. Nothing could convince her to go down the painful, heartbreaking, and ultimately, useless road of pregnancy again. No how. No way. For no one would she do that again. Least of all, herself.

Of course, Shane and she had never discussed kids, marriage, or anything like that. They were grown-ups. At only months into a relationship, you don’t start prancing around with hearts and rainbows, spouting how many babies you intend to have. She had a gut intuition that given her history and Shane’s unbelievable empathy about it, he must have known that being with her meant not having babies in the future. No pregnancies.

Now her body was telling her otherwise. She turned on her side, pulling her knees up towards her chest. Stretching a hand out, her fingertips brushed the white stick. She twirled it one way and then the other as her tears started to dry. Nearly hyperventilating, the puffs of her chest going up and down started to calm down. She still could not believe this was happening to her.

She lay there, silent. Squares of sunlight reflected on the tile floor. The solitude of her house evoked old memories in her. She remembered… so easily, the first time she ever used one of those tests.

It was negative. Patrick stayed out of the bathroom while she peed on it, but they waited together for the results. Nerves and excitement on edge, they waited the few minutes necessary only to be crushed. It went on like that for five months… until finally, one time, it was different. On the fifth one, they were far less excited. Their hopes were barely raised. Having become slightly jaded to the process, Allison took the test alone, while Patrick trimmed their lawn. She tested on the third day her period was late, before running like crazy and screaming hysterically out to the front lawn. She was barefoot, and grinning when she leapt into Patrick’s arms, exclaiming, “We’re pregnant! We’re having a baby! Oh, my God. It’s really happening.”

When he saw her coming, he shut the mower off. Opening his arms at the last minute when he realized her intent, he let her cry happily on his shoulder. An older couple that was passing by their house, walking their dog, clapped and congratulated them. Allison turned beet red with embarrassment… and unconcealed joy. She wanted to get on the rooftop and shout out her news. As it was, she almost did the equivalent. They went inside together, their hands clutched tightly. Gazing at the test, they both marveled over it for hours. What other device that she freaking peed on could have ended up on their kitchen table as if it were a magic wand? But their test did, and was so special, they even took pictures of it. They couldn’t wait to post it on their social media accounts and announce it to the world. WE ARE PREGNANT!

They went out to dinner to celebrate. Beaming at each other, their hands all over the other in open love and caresses, they toasted the event with sparkling cider and went shopping that same night. They bought a blue baby blanket that sat on their couch for a month as they talked and marveled over their coming baby.

That was, of course, before her traitorous body killed her baby.

This time, Allison slowly got to her feet, clutching the now evil, little test tightly in her hand. She wrapped it in toilet paper and stuffed it into her wastebasket under the sink, as if that could change the results it showcased to the world, and to her. She stared into the mirror at her reflection before finally washing her hands and splashing water all over her face. Shaking her head, she stared without seeing in shock and sadness.
Loss
. Such a sense of loss. Losing Gabrielle was every bit as sharp and deep in its pain today as it was on the day she delivered her.

How could she suffer through that again? She leaned on the bathroom counter as her head dipped in heavy depression. It was too much. The weight of her anguish made her feel like she had aged fifty years. “I can’t do this. Not again,” she whispered to the mirror. Staring in dread at her own reflection, she started shaking her head as fresh, hot tears burned again in her eyes. “I can’t. I won’t.”

She tapped fingers against the counter and fiercely cried,
won’t
while looking at her reflection, focusing her resolve clearly before she straightened up her spine and again dried her tears. She simply would not do this again.

Turning, she nearly stomped out of the bathroom.

This time, she did not feel like running to anyone with her news. This time, she simply resumed what she’d been doing. She didn’t touch her stomach, not even once, or allow her thoughts to wonder what might be inside her. She ignored it. Right now, all she focused on was the papers she was grading.

When Shane called and asked to come over, she lied and said she was sick and just wanted to rest. He let her get away with that for a few days. Meanwhile, she went about her normal routine. She vigorously scrubbed her house from one end to the other; even tackling three closets and organizing them, a task she’d been avoiding for too long. She spent another entire afternoon weeding her yard, and spreading bark all over the bare spots.

The fourth day, Shane showed up on her doorstep with a loud knock. His face relaxed when she answered and he scooped her up into his arms. “It feels like forever. I don’t care if I get sick, I’m staying here.”

She sighed and let her head fall onto his big, wide shoulders, allowing his strength and warmth to heat her up. She wished he could unburden her. If only she could solve her problem so easily.

The problem she still refused to call a
problem
or even acknowledge.

But how could she have an abortion without Shane finding out?

That thought plagued her. She had no idea how to go about it. It seemed only reasonable to consult an OB/GYN. But hers was back in Tacoma. She never found another one around here, and rarely had problems. Well-checks were supposed to be every three years now, and she hadn’t gotten one since Gabrielle was born.

She needed a doctor.

Still, she didn’t call for an appointment. The school year started again and she was filling in temporarily for a third grade teacher out on maternity leave. That irony was not lost on Allison. She continued teaching, cleaning, cooking, tutoring and being with Shane. He kept asking her why she was so quiet and she tried to blame it on anything but the truth. She said it was because of her lack of enthusiasm towards teaching, which saddened and bothered her to feel that way. She pretended she was trying to find her spark again, when really, she was trying to figure out how to get rid of the baby growing inside her.

Except to Allison, it wasn’t a baby, at least in her mind. It was
goo
. It was no more a child to her than a virus.
It wasn’t a baby.
That was key to her mental state. She simply needed a procedure.

Still, she didn’t call.

More weeks went by. Her breasts started to ache and she sometimes had to grit her teeth when Shane caressed them so he didn’t notice her discomfort. She stopped riding on his bike. The jarring and shaking simply became intolerable, she was so sensitive. Shane erroneously thought she just had a lingering bug, and of course, she let him believe that.

The nausea first hit Allison while she was just starting to explain two-syllable words to Erin. She told Erin to divide them so the open and closed syllables would determine if the vowels used their long or short sounds. Erin was now reading actual sentences and short stories, at about the second grade level. She was actually a quick study and picked things up fast, using Allison’s system. Allison was amazed with Erin, even if Erin wasn’t amazed with herself. But when she tasted bile sliding upwards, not down, her throat, Allison had to sprint into Erin’s bathroom and throw up. She turned on the fan to muffle the noise, and cleaned up the toilet and rinsed her mouth out, while praying Erin didn’t hear, or catch on to anything. When she sat back down, still feeling jittery, Erin smiled and they started working again as if it never happened.
Relief.

Allison didn’t want Shane to find out when she eventually aborted the living matter inside her. So, toward the end of September, Allison picked a mean fight with Shane. It was intentional. She needed for him to go. To leave her. To get out of River’s End, and not be so nice to her, or so kind. He had to stop acting like her boyfriend and showing her how much he cared still.

Finally, she started to figure out how the nightmare happened.

It was all his fault.
Him and that scary, big piercing, right where no one should ever have holes or jewelry in their body. It must have ripped a hole through one of the condoms. She figured that out finally. It was occupying her mind like a never-ending loop, playing over and over. How could that happen to her?

Now she knew why. His goddamned, immature way of presenting himself did that to her.

Never mind how much she enjoyed that particular adornment, hundreds of times, and as recently as a few nights before, she used her sudden epiphany to fuel her anger, which she needed to push Shane away. After work and tutoring, she nearly marched into his shop.
Bitch
didn’t begin to cover her mood.

“Why won’t you cut your hair?”

He was working on one of his motorcycles, having taken on a lot more work of late. He now had billboards to advertise his business. He was thinking of someday even doing a commercial to air around the local area. Rydell Rides had become a real success. Shane was finally doing more custom work on bikes than fixing old tractors or pick-ups for the farmers and ranchers around the area.

He was hunched over. He turned his head and stared in shocked silence at her. His eyebrows were arched high when she walked in without even the courtesy of saying hello.

“Pardon?”

“I have back-to-school night for my class, and technically, you could come as my boyfriend, but I just don’t think you should come looking like that.”

“Like what?” he asked, his tone carefully neutral, but she saw the sparks flying in his eyeballs. Yeah, he didn’t like what she was saying.

Neither did she.

But still, she carried on.

“Like a juvenile delinquent who refuses to grow up.”

He slowly stood up to his full height. With a wrench in his hand, he asked, “You mean, how I’ve always looked?” His green eyes grew solemn. “What’s this really about, Allison? You haven’t been acting right at all of late. What is it? Doubts? About us? Me? Why? And how come? Start there. Tell me why you don’t like me as I am now? Now, after eight months, how can you care about my hair so much? And not then?”

Her heart hurt like she’d taken his wrench and beaten it repeatedly against her chest.
No!
She wanted to scream at him. No, he should not have felt that way. She was lucky to be with him. A ponytail? A few tattoos? A few surprise piercings? They all were part of Shane.

But he did
this
to her. Her heart was crusty to begin with, and now it completely hardened like the shell of a turtle, except she couldn’t hide in it. She had nothing left to give. She lost too much. “You were a good time, Shane. And a huge risk for a woman like me. The bad boy. Isn’t that you? Well, hell! I deserved the ride. After how my life was going of late? I deserved the novelty. Now? I just think it’s time something changed. I think I’m ready to find someone who’s serious again. Someone who fits me and the kind of person I am.”