Seamless (37 page)

He looked at the list, hoping for some moment of clarity. It gave him none.

Stella tried to talk to him every day in some way since she got back from the beach; she’d apologized time and time again and seemed to sincerely want to make it better. The problem was that he didn’t know if anything she said or did could erase what she’d done. Maybe he’d lost her one too many times. He pulled out his phone and checked the time. 6:12. Perfect. He’d walk to his mom’s for Sunday dinner. He’d been avoiding his family for weeks, not wanting to deal with them. George knew they knew because he’d been getting well-meaning messages and texts every day for the last 10 days. Nothing was ever a secret when you were dumped by the FBI Beauty, he thought bitterly. Walking out in the crisp evening air, he pulled his wool cap down and put his gloves on. His breath appeared in front of him and it made him think of her again, how she was a part of him and there was really no escaping it. The cloud of his breath went away. “Just like you, El, a part of me and then you just fucking disappear.”
I must be drunk; that didn’t even make any fucking sense.
He laughed and it tasted acidic on his lips.

His face was numb from the cold by the time he walked in his mother’s house. His family was sitting around the table and all heads turned toward him when he appeared in the dining room.

“Unca Wih!” Finn got up from the table and ran to him, giving his lower legs a bear hug.

“Hey, light of my life.” He lifted her with ease and embraced her.

“You stink,” she said and waved her hand around. Her curls bounced around her face and she squeezed her nose with her other hand.

George laughed. “Tell me how you really feel.” He put her down and walked to the head of the table to kiss her mother’s cheek and then slumped in his seat at the other end of the table.

His mother got up and went in the kitchen.

“Are you drunk?” Kelly hissed.

“Yes,” George stage-whispered.

“Are you okay, Will?” Kara asked, putting her hand on his shoulder.

He hadn’t talked to her since she dropped him off at his house when Stella left, but it didn’t stop her from checking in on him every day.

“We’ve all been trying to get in touch with you,” she continued.

He nodded. “I know.”

His mother came back from the kitchen with a plate and a glass of water for him. She silently began putting food on his plate.

“Thanks, Mom,” he mumbled.

“Well?” Jack asked. “Are you working or sulking?”

Kara, Kate and John glared at him.

George erupted in laughter. “Fuck you, Jack.”

Everyone gasped and Kara stood quickly. “Finn, come on, baby, let’s go in the other room. You’re done anyway.”

“You said a bad word!” Finn called over her shoulder as Kara herded her out of the dining room.

“Sorry, Finn!”
Shit
. He was too drunk to be here.

Kate stared at him, her grey-green eyes boring into him.

“Eat this.” His mother put a plate of food down in front of him and sank back into her seat. “Maybe you’ll be able to have a proper conversation after you eat.”

“I haven’t had a decent conversation in two weeks.” He began shoveling food in his mouth.

Kara came back in, her eyes full of concern. “Will, talk to us.” She put her hand on his left hand to comfort him.

“About what, Care Bear?” He put his fork down. “About how the love of my life walked away from me and completely crushed me? About how the media is having a circus with her life? With my life?”

“If that’s what you want to talk about.” Her voice was calm, trying to soothe him.

“I don’t want to talk about that.” He picked up his fork and continued eating.

“Are you working?” John asked.

“Yes. I’ve been in Florida and New Hampshire this week and the fucking primary is like a year away.”

“Watch your language in my house, young man,” his mother snapped.

He hung his head. He shouldn’t have come. This was a very bad idea.

“So you went right back to work after she left?” Kara interrogated.

“Yep.”

“Jessica said you missed several days,” Jack said.

George looked at his sister with a glare.

“Why the fuck are you talking to her?” George roared.

“Willston George Finnegan, if I have to tell you to watch your language one more time, you will finish your meal on the porch.”

“You know what, Mom? I’ve lost my fucking appetite.” He pushed himself from the table with such force the chair scraped the floor with a loud noise that filled the awkward silence. He stalked toward the door.

“Will, we warned you about her.” His mother’s voice froze him in his tracks. “I never liked her and you were going to marry her against my wishes. This is for the best.” Her lips were pursed as if she’d smelled something rancid.

Slowly, he turned to face his family and the anger he’d been keeping at bay for the past weeks exploded. “Oh really, Mother? This is for the best? That the love of my life ripped my fucking heart out? Better that I’m miserable than be associated with her? I’m walking around like a zombie because I don’t know if I want to get her back, but you think this is for the best? The woman who I asked to marry me, the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with, had someone murdered in front of her and instead of running to me for comfort, she fucking left me. You think that’s best for me?”

“Will, you will not use that tone of voice with me.” His mother’s voice was steely and unforgiving. “It’s what’s best for this family. She was embarrassing and not good enough for you.”

“I know I had to do a lot of explaining at my work about my future sister-in-law,” Jack put in.

George turned his fury toward Jack. “Oh really? Did you tell your coworkers about jacking off to her picture too? Because I’m sure that would have been an interesting conversation.”

Jack’s eyes widened. “You asshole.”

“Oh yeah, I’m the asshole. How about you pay your own fucking mortgage from now on, motherfucker? See how you like that.”

Kelly stood up, her eyes blazing. “You can’t do that, Will. That’s our money.”

“Fuck ‘our money.’ You’ve been sitting on your ass for years. I do everything for you and you can’t even accept my future wife into our family. You know what, fuck all of you…” He wrenched opened the front door and marched down the stairs.

Well, that didn’t turn out like I expected
.

Stella and George had talked several times. He was still mad. Their first conversation was harsh. What she remembered most was the tone in George’s voice—he’d given up on her, on them. Stella had thrown herself into her work so she wouldn’t think about the two men that had her tied in knots. Millie was still letting her stay, but she’d looked at a couple of places for herself with Cooper. She was hoping to find a place before Christmas, but that was just a few days away. She’d still been throwing up every day, so obviously the stress and anxiety remained. She’d run out of her stomach medication two months ago and she just hadn’t had time to get back to the doctor. When she finally called, the first appointment available was the Monday after Christmas. Why they couldn’t just call in a fucking refill on her meds, she’d never understand.

Stella was straightening her hair when Millie popped her head in the bathroom.

“At least make an appointment to see that stomach doctor,” Millie reminded her for the billionth time. “The acid in your stomach is eating away at my pipes.”

“That’s fucking disgusting, Millie.” Stella looked at Millie in the mirror. “I got an appointment; they just can’t see me until next week.”

“When I lived in the sorority house, they had to get new pipes because of all the vomiting that went on.”

Stella turned and laughed. “You’re lying.”

“Swear.”

“That’s nasty.” Stella shook her head. “Hopefully you won’t have to get new pipes just because you let me stay here for a few weeks.”

“Should you go to a different doctor sooner, like urgent care or something?”

“No. I think, with all my problems, it’s best if I see my doctor, who’s familiar with my background.” Stella shrugged. “I wouldn’t want to have to take the time to explain my medical history to another doctor.”

Millie turned and walked into the living room to grab her things. “If I didn’t know you couldn’t be pregnant, I’d be making you take a test!” she called as she shut the door.

A spike of fear drove through Stella’s entire body. Then she laughed. Although she hadn’t had her period in a while...
Wait
. When
was
the last time she had her period? She couldn’t remember. She wasn’t necessarily regular after she’d gotten out of the hospital, so it didn’t worry her that much. The doctors all told her she wouldn’t be able to get pregnant because of all the surgeries she’d had, but for a minute, her mind responded like it was a possibility and her paranoia about getting pregnant since she started having sex took over. She shook her head, laughing at herself.
Impossible.

Stella got her briefcase and got in her car.
Shit, now I’m going to keep wondering
. She should just get a test and do it for shits and giggles. It’d be negative and she would feel better.

She stopped at a pharmacy on her way to work, and before she even entered her firm’s office, went to the bathroom and peed on the damn stick. The three minutes it took to get the results were excruciating even though she knew what she was doing was ridiculous. After three minutes her phone buzzed; she looked at the test and couldn’t figure out if there was one line or two. More frustrated than before, she unwrapped the other test that actually said “pregnant” or “not pregnant.”
I should’ve taken the pregnancy test for dummies first
.
Now I don’t have to pee! This just keeps getting better
. She hovered over the toilet long enough to get a few drops for the new stick and responded to emails for work while she waited another three minutes.

When the timer on her phone went off, she casually glanced at the test and did a double take.

OH. MY. SHIT.

The Beginning...

Looking around the church, Stella saw everyone she loved. She cradled the person who’d changed her entire life with a single look, who made the decision for her to be better for her, and smiled at his dark hair.

The last 15 months had been the longest and shortest of her life. Her pregnancy was as much a shock to her as it was to medical professionals, and she was treated as a high-risk case, seeing a perinatologist since her first call to her doctor’s office in a state of shock.

She hated every second of her pregnancy. Her morning sickness was just plain fucking sickness, there was no limiting it to the morning. The only thing she could eat without vomiting were Eggo waffles and potatoes, which resulted in her gaining around 60 pounds. She tugged at the dress she was wearing, the mid-section draping to cover her flabby stomach.

It was all worth it when those beautiful eyes blinked at her from across the recovery room. She’d needed to have a C-section because of her injuries, but it was like something otherworldly happened to her when she saw her son for the first time.

The day she took two pregnancy tests in the work bathroom, she’d called her doctor in borderline hysterics. Thank God they had her come right in, and after another urine test, a blood test, two hours of conversation (including phone calls to the doctors in Montana and at the rehab facility), an ultrasound, and a blood draw that made her think the phlebotomist was really a vampire, she drove to Millie’s in a daze. They both sat on the couch, shell-shocked, for what felt like hours.

“Well, I guess we can’t handle this how we typically would…although, I can still drink.” Millie went to the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of wine.

“That’s super bitchy.” Stella pouted.

“Um, it is…but I can’t help it. This is insane.” Millie poured three servings of wine into one glass.

“So, I have to see some specialist because they don’t believe I’ll be able to carry the baby to term.” Stella grimaced saying that out loud.

Millie drank the entire bottle of wine by herself that night and they talked about the actuality of Stella having a baby and how that would change things. They decided to wait until she was twelve weeks along to tell anyone else, because the reality was that she’d probably lose the baby before then. They’d already given her information about all the procedures she’d have to go through if she lost the baby at this stage; she’d sat in the doctor’s office like a zombie wh
ile he talked at her about all the risk factors, but all she took away from the experience was that she was alone. That had scared the shit out of her.

Those three weeks had been the longest of her fucking life. She scrutinized everything she did and put in her body and chastised herself for every decision she’d made in the past nine weeks. She started buying organic, good, only-the-best-for-her-baby food, drinking tons of water, and she even read
What to Expect When You’re Expecting
aloud to Millie at night, with Cooper’s head on her belly. It’s like he knew she was pregnant and loved the baby already. She was just trying to make it to the magic twelve-week mark. She woke up every morning worried there’d be a puddle of blood under her, and the worry that filled her brain left her with no room for thoughts of anything else. Her emotions had shifted from her demons and turmoil to this baby. It consumed her entire brain; she’d desperately needed this all consuming worry for another person to get past her past.