Jack got the news he’d been traded to Anaheim two days later. The Mets were in St. Louis and just like he said, he had to fly straight from there to Texas to meet up with his new team, the Anaheim Angels. Of course they went by some other name now, but growing up in Southern California, they’d always be the Anaheim Angels to me.
We really lucked out that the Angels were one of the teams fighting for Jack. That meant we got to move home, and it also meant that Jack didn’t have to try to find a place to live in his downtime. Grateful we had family in the area, he moved straight in with Gran and Gramps until I got there.
If he had been traded to Toronto, the team would have put him in a hotel for the first home stand only. It would only be for a few nights, then he would have had to find permanent accommodations on his own. That was just another harsh reality of playing professional baseball. No one helped you when you needed help the most. If Jack didn’t have me, I couldn’t imagine what he’d do. The players didn’t have time to find places to live, and deal with other necessary issues like that, when their entire days were spent at the ball field trying to maintain their position.
Of course I hated the idea of leaving work and the home we’d created in New York, but I hated being away from Jack’s home base even more. So I knocked on Nora’s door the morning after the trade.
“Hmph. I know why you’re in my office,” she said, momentarily pretending to be offended with me. Then real indignation took over. “I can’t believe they traded him!”
Taken aback, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “I feel the same way.”
“I’m really going to miss you,” she said, her face solemn. Nora was a smart woman; she’d obviously put two and two together to figure out why I’d come to meet with her unannounced.
“And I can’t believe I have to move back to California. Don’t get me wrong, I love my home, but I’m not ready to say good-bye to New York yet. Is that bad?”
“Of course not. New York’s in your blood, Cassie. Plus, I have a proposition for you.” She rubbed her hands together and a devious smile appeared.
My mood immediately lifted. “What is it? Please let it be something that means I can still work here but not physically be here,” I practically begged.
She huffed and glared at me, shaking her head. “You ruin every surprise.”
“Tell me!”
“As long as you can deal with being an independent contractor instead of an employee, I can hire you on a project-by-project basis. And darling, your work more than speaks for itself, so I have no problem in doing just that.”
I stood up from my chair and ran to the other side of Nora’s desk, then reached down and squeezed her hard. “Thank you so much, Nora! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” I exclaimed into her hair. “This means everything to me.”
“Honey, we’re lucky to have you.”
“No, I’m lucky to have you,” I practically shouted. “When should I do the switch? And how will it work?”
“I assume you need to move as soon as possible, am I right?” she asked and I shrugged. “I can’t promise you work all the time, but I will get you whatever I can. It won’t be like it is now, but it’s better than nothing. And since you’ll be an independent contractor, you can charge me per hour or a flat fee, that’s something you’ll need to figure out on your own. But the money can potentially turn out to be the same for less work, technically speaking.”
“I seriously love you.”
“Great. Now, go type up your letter of resignation and hand it in so I can let you go.”
“You’re going to make me cry,” I said, wiping at the tears threatening to fall.
“I’m trying to make your life easier, Cassie, not make you cry.” She tormented me with a knowing glance.
“You’re right. And I love you for it. I can never thank you enough, Nora. You’ve been the best boss in the world.”
She nodded and admitted with no shame, “I am pretty amazing.”
I burst out laughing. “I had no idea what I was going to do, or how I was going to leave. Thank you for making this so easy for us.”
Nora let out a little huff. “It’s your own fault for being so damn talented. Now go,” she said with a dismissive wave, “before you mess up my mascara.”
I gave Nora another hug, kissed the side of her cheek, and turned to walk out of her office for the last time in the foreseeable future.
“By the way,” she said, “the photos you took of Trina are incredible. You still want to shoot her post-pictorial, right?”
“Absolutely! Trina would kill me.” Inside, I reveled at the fact that I’d get to come back here in the near future to work. I wasn’t even gone yet, but I already longed to be back. New York City had definitely left its mark on me.
Closing Nora’s door behind me, I walked to my desk for the last time. I sat down and spun my chair around to stare at my computer screen, looking over the letter of resignation I’d already typed out for two seconds before e-mailing it over. If I looked at it for too long, I might be tempted to press DELETE.
Thankfully, or oddly, depending on how you looked at it, I had only acquired a small amount of personal belongings over the years. I scooped them up and slipped out of the office, then pressed the DOWN elevator button without making a fuss. Just the thought of leaving was hard enough; I didn’t want to make a spectacle out of it. I planned on sending a good-bye e-mail to the office once I was settled back in California.
I know, I know, it was sort of a chicken-shit move, but the reality was that co-workers didn’t let people leave easily. They had a habit of creating chaos and parties and celebrations that never ended. It was all with good intentions, but I didn’t have time for that. I needed to get our belongings packed and moved out to Los Angeles as soon as possible. Jack and I needed a new home, and it was my job to find us one. Because that was what the wife of a major league baseball player did. She took care of her man.
As I walked up the street toward the subway station, I thought I’d be more emotional. I actually braced myself for the tears and soul ache that never came. I’d fought so hard with Jack about having my own career, and had taken such a strong stand when it came to what I dreamed and wanted. But right now, all I truly wanted was to be home with my husband. I knew I told Jack exactly that the other night, but that was before I’d quit, before I’d actually resigned from my job.
Passion was a fickle thing. It could make you think you’d die for something one minute, then force you to realize you’d be just fine without it the next. A year and a half ago, I would have sworn on my life that I couldn’t survive a single moment if I didn’t have my career. Take away photography, and I assumed my soul would wither and die on the spot, leaving nothing but a memory of what once was.
But life had a way of changing your priorities. Or maybe it was me that had changed, because I’d never felt more full of life than I did right now. And none of it had to do with my career.
It was in this moment of truth, as I stood in a darkening subway station surrounded by strangers and lonely musicians, when I realized that my home was wherever Jack was. And he was no longer in New York, so I no longer belonged here. It was a simple truth, yet utterly profound in its message. I was meant to land wherever he settled, like the ocean washing seashells onto the shore. Jack was the shell, in constant motion and movement, being tossed around from place to place by the ebb and flow of something more powerful than he. And I was the sand, gripping and holding on to him, comforting his tumble with each push and pull of the tide, yet always constant.
When I walked into the waiting subway car, I had a smile plastered on my face. This understanding … this awakening … filled me with more joy than I’d ever considered possible. The best part was the acute awareness I had been given. It was like a gift. My heart wanted to burst with the sheer happiness I felt in this moment.
Before, I’d honestly never thought that following Jack’s career would ever feel okay to me. I had figured that I would always be fighting to keep hold of something that I felt defined me in ways that were separate from Jack. But the thing was, Jack was a part of me, and choosing to keep our family together was an okay priority for me to have.
Not only was I the wife of a major league baseball player, but I was the wife of Jack Fucking Carter. And I wanted to take care of my man, the same way he chose to take care of me. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that Jack would do anything for me if I asked him to. The thing was, I had nothing I wanted to ask. Not anymore.
My fears in our relationship had been settled long ago. The point I tried to prove to him, to myself, had been proven. It wasn’t giving up on my dreams to be there and support Jack. Somewhere along the line in our relationship, Jack and his life had become a part of my dreams too. Being with him fulfilled me in ways I’d only fought against before.
The simple truth was that it hurt a lot more to be away from Jack than it did to walk away from work. No one was more surprised by this revelation than me.
About an hour after I arrived home, the doorman called to let me know the packing boxes I’d ordered had arrived. Thankfully, he hauled them up for me and brought them in, stacking them higher than my kitchen table.
“Do you need packing tape, Mrs. Carter?”
I looked around and tapped the side of my head. “Probably. Do you have any I can borrow?”
He smiled, and his bushy eyebrows squished together like a giant gray caterpillar. “We have plenty. I’ll be right back.”
“Thank you, Thomas! Just walk back in,” I yelled.
Jack had been right. Trying to do this all alone royally sucked. I looked around at all the things we’d acquired over the years, and realized there was no way I could do this alone, and in a short time frame.
How did the other wives do this, especially when they had kids? They had to have hired help, right? An idea forming, I dialed Trina’s number and waited.
Thomas popped his head back in, dropped two tape guns on the table, and waved before letting himself back out. I mouthed “thank you” to him as Trina answered.
“I cannot believe you’re leaving me,” she said without preamble, her accented voice startling me as she dove right in without saying hello.
I sighed. “I know. I’m trying not to think about it.” Leaving Trina and Matteo was going to be hard. Maybe I could convince them to move with us? After all, we could use a driver in LA. As wonderful as it would be for us, I shook away the absurd idea.
“So, what’s the matter? I know you’re not just calling to chat this chubby girl’s ear off.”
“Trina, you’re seven months pregnant! You’re not chubby! You can’t even tell you’re pregnant from behind. Which, by the way, is why girls hate you.”
“Girls hate me?” she scoffed, horrified at the very idea.
“I mean. If they did. That would be why,” I said with a laugh.
“So, what’s up, lovie?”
“When I move, can I call you anytime I want so you’ll talk to me? You can read me the phone book, I don’t care. I am going to miss hearing your voice so much.”
Trina’s British accent was absolutely precious; I might have developed a girl crush on her for that alone. Plus, the words she used were adorable. Everything was “brilliant” or “lovely;” when she was really sad or upset, she was “gutted;” and I was still trying to figure out what she meant by “gobsmacked.” I thought it meant “shocked,” but I’d never been sure.
“Only until the baby comes and then I’ll probably put a hit on you if you wake me,” she said with a giggle.
“Deal. So, the real reason I’m calling is because I don’t know how I’m supposed to pack up this entire apartment by myself. I’m literally freaking out here, because there’s no way I can do this alone. How do the other wives do it? What do people do? Help me!”
“You must be joking. Cassie, tell me you aren’t sitting at home surrounded by a bunch of empty boxes wondering where to start?”
Turning my head slowly, I scanned our beautifully decorated apartment, looking at everything with a newly critical eye. Suddenly everything I’d carefully purchased and placed there with so much love looked like the bane of my existence. “Actually, I’m staring at a stack of boxes that still need to be built. Then I can surround myself with them and wonder where to start.”
She tsk-tsked me before adding, “That will take you months to do by yourself. You have to hire movers, luv. They’ll come pack your things and then drive them across the country for you. You just tell them where to deliver it all.”
I sat up straight, excited at the very thought. “They’ll pack for me? Shut the front door.”
“Shut the front door? I’m going to remember that one,” she teased. “But yes. You should call your contact in the Mets office and ask if they have anyone they recommend. They really should help you with this, Cassie, but I know that they sometimes won’t. If you hit a dead end with them, get the number for your contact person in Anaheim and beg them for help. One of the goddamn teams should help the poor wife who gets stuck doing all the shit work.”
I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “I know, right? It’s really insane to me that Jack gets traded while he’s on the road. He can’t come home. He has to leave with whatever he has packed, and then I’m supposed to handle moving our entire house across the country because he still has eight more weeks of baseball to play.”
“That was one of the things that always killed me with Kyle. I know that I was on the road a lot, but I didn’t have to take every modeling shoot that came my way. But those guys,” she paused, as if disappointed somehow. “They don’t get any time off for anything. Kyle used to tell me how sad the players on the team would get who were dads, you know?”
Huh? “No, I don’t know. Tell me.”
“Oh, just that the dads on the team were always really sad. He said they felt like absentee fathers all the time because of everything they missed. You know, like birthdays and holidays, and all the things that are important to little kids they always miss out on.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard a few of the wives say things like that before. It’s a brutal business. You have to really love the sport to want to play it that bad.”
My eyes landed on a mason jar filled with quarters sitting on a shelf. I stared at it while Trina’s voice filtered into my head, as my attention wandered slightly.
“And you have to really love the man playing it to want to stay with them through it all,” she offered, giving me a compliment.
“It’s either love or all the wives are crazy. Probably the latter.”
“Probably.” She yawned, which forced me to yawn in response. “Sorry. I’m exhausted. This last trimester is kicking my ass. I’m tired all the time.”
“You go. Thank you for the advice. I’ll figure out what I need to do tomorrow. I’m really tired too. I’ll blame you.”
“Sympathy tiredness?”
“Yeah! I’m tired for you and your baby through the phone,” I teased.
“Love you,” she said, then yawned again.
“You too. Night.”
Once you’re no longer a part of an organization, you cease being their responsibility, or their problem. The Mets offered me nothing in the form of help or suggestions, and when I finally got off the phone with my contact there, I wanted to cry. The fact that I’d left a message for her that morning, then sat around all day waiting for a response and she didn’t return my call until late that evening, probably had a lot to do with it.
I was so emotional lately, everything had me on edge. Of course, I blamed my overly delicate nature on Jack being gone all the time. But when a freaking tissue commercial caused me to burst into tears, I was convinced I’d gone crazy.
My cell phone rang and Jack’s dimpled grin flashed across my screen. “Hello,” I whined, wiping my nose with the back of my hand.
“Cassie? Are you crying? Why are you crying?” Jack’s warm tone instantly turned protective.
“Nothing, babe. It’s just this stupid commercial where this guy comes home from the war and sees his family and they don’t know he’s coming and he surprises them—” I cut off, tears falling in full force again.
“You’re crying because of a commercial? Did I hear you right?”
I sniffed. “Shut up, Jack. I’m crying because I’m emotional. You’re not here and I miss you so much. Our apartment is huge and we have a lot of shit and no one is helping me and all I want to do is be with you. But at this rate, I’ll be here until next season.”
“Ahhhh, Kitten.” He started to laugh and I swore I’d kill him if he didn’t stop. “Do you want me to send someone there to pack our shit? I’ll fly you out to Seattle right now and I’ll get someone to handle all that. You just say the word and it’s done. You don’t need to be doing that all alone. I told you that.”
“That’s so hot,” I mumbled through my whimpering.
“What is?”
“The way you protect me and want to take care of me. I love youuuu,” I told him, my declaration dragged out with my sobs. I couldn’t stop.
“I love you too,” he said. “Stop packing or not packing. Whatever you’re doing, just stop. We’ll figure it out later. But right now, we need to book my kitten a flight to come see me.”
I sucked in a shaky breath. “Okay. That sounds good.”
“We really don’t have to move out right now, you know. Hell, we can keep the apartment in New York for all I care. We’ll just never use it as often as we’ll want to. But if you want to keep it, we should.”
“I do want to,” I said. “But then again I don’t. It’s not realistic and it’s a waste of money.”
“Your decision. I’ll support whatever you want, okay? I just want you to be happy.”
“I am happy,” I cried out.
“I can tell,” he said, his voice all funny like it was when he tried not to laugh. “Okay, babe, I have a ticket for you to fly out to Seattle first thing tomorrow morning. It’s real early, so you need to go to bed. I’m e-mailing you and Matteo the itinerary now.”
“How did you do that already? We’re still on the phone.”
“I’m Harry Potter, remember? I’m fucking magic!”
I laughed and he chuckled into my ear. “There’s my girl. I’ll see you tomorrow. Now, go get some sleep.”
“Thank you. I miss you,” I confessed with my whole heart, wishing he could feel just how deeply I meant the words. My love for Jack felt like it filled my body to bursting at every seam that held me together. I was overcome with emotion on every level.
“I miss you too. I hate being away from you. I’ve always hated it, but this is different. You’re not home when I get there and it makes me crazy.”
“Me too.”
“Stop crying, please. It fucking kills me to hear you crying.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“You’ve finally cracked. I always knew you were crazy. I mean, I did get you to marry me.”
I wiped my eyes, and couldn’t stop the smile that formed on my face. “I’m in bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Good girl. I can’t wait.”
My plane landed in Seattle a little before eight the next morning. We disembarked via air stairs and walked across the paved runway before entering an annexed building. I glanced up at the clouds hovering in the sky. They threatened to drown me with the raindrops they carried. The air held a gentle chill that New York lacked this time of year. Even in a summer rainstorm, the East Coast air was hot and sticky. Not so in the Pacific Northwest. It was quite a change for me.
I walked through the small building, took the escalator down, and waited patiently for the shuttle that would take me to baggage claim. Within seconds, the double doors opened and I stepped inside. My stomach flipped as nervous energy surged through me at the idea of seeing my husband. I missed him so much.
Following the signs that pointed to baggage claim, I realized that I’d walked in a circle. Somewhere along the line, I wasn’t translating the arrow directions correctly. Passing by the women’s bathroom one more time, I decided I couldn’t hold it and stepped inside. My stomach ached and fought against the urge to puke.
I must be hungry.
I splashed some cold water on my face before patting it dry with a paper towel. Stepping into the oncoming foot traffic, I decided to follow the herd of other travelers, convinced they would lead me straight to my destination. And they did.
When I was halfway down the escalator, I saw my husband standing at the bottom with a dimpled smile on his face, holding a sign that read:
I covered my face with my hands and burst into tears. My mind flashed back to Jack in the airport when we first dated, holding the sign that read:
I bolted from the escalator and straight into his waiting arms. His body was warm and comforting as he held me close.
“It wasn’t supposed to make you cry.” He kissed my head and patted my hair.
“The sign, Jack. The sign,” I blubbered into his T-shirt. “And I’ve really missed you.”
Holy hell, I need to stop crying all the time lately. Something is seriously wrong with me. I feel so out of control and unbalanced.
Jack’s thumb reached across my cheek and wiped my tears away. He leaned down, pressing his lips against mine, and my body melted into his. “I’ve missed you too. Let’s get your bag and get out of here.”
I nodded as he linked his fingers with mine. “How’s your hand feeling?”
“Good. Real good.” While we waited at the baggage claim carousel, he flexed and stretched his left hand before reaching for my small suitcase. “This it?” he asked as he pulled it off the spinning track.
“Yeah, just that.”
I don’t know why I checked it when it was small enough to carry on board. Occupational habit, maybe. Whenever I traveled for work, I always checked all my equipment and bags, so this routine was second nature to me.
“I’m getting stronger, you know,” he said, his eyebrows raised.
I flashed him a smile and squeezed his hand. “I knew you would.”
“And I gained another mile per hour on my fast-ball yesterday.” He grinned from ear to ear and my body heated with pride.
“Jack, that’s fantastic. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks, Kitten.” His face beamed with pleasure, the light brown rings closest to his pupils nearly glowing.
By the time we arrived at his hotel, my stomach betrayed me. I could barely stand up straight, it hurt so badly. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I hadn’t seen Jack in almost two weeks and now that we were together, I was sick?
“I’m sorry, Jack. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” I looked at him apologetically as we waited for the elevator.
“Don’t be sorry, just get better. Did you eat breakfast this morning?”
I shook my head, the very idea of food making me want to hurl. “No. No food.”
“I’ll order—” he started to respond before I cut him off.
“No! I don’t want anything!” I fought to keep the nothing I’d eaten inside my body as the elevator rocked to a stop. I wrapped my arm across my tummy and attempted to walk.
“I got you,” Jack said before scooping me into his arms and carrying me down the long hallway. The last time he held me like this was after I’d gotten mugged in college. Some guy had come out of nowhere and stolen my camera and beat the crap out of me. When Jack finally found me, he picked me up and walked all the way to my apartment without stopping to catch his breath or slow his pace. It was the most romantic thing ever.
He was doing the same thing now. I leaned my body into his, listening to the sound of his heart beating against his muscled chest. It seemed like we walked for hours before we arrived at his hotel room door.
“I have to put you down,” he warned before placing my feet gently on the ground. “Can you stand?”
“Yeah,” I responded, my body doubled over in pain.
He swiped his keycard, the light turned green, and the lock made a clicking sound. Jack turned the handle and held the door open with his foot as I trudged inside. I rounded the corner and fell on top of his bed, pulling my knees to my chest.
“Kitten, what happened?” he asked as he sat down next to me on the bed. He propped pillows up behind him before pulling my head on top of his legs. His fingers ran through my hair and I could feel the intensity of his stare on me.
“Honestly, I’m not sure. I just don’t feel good all of a sudden.”
“I have to leave in two hours for the field, but I don’t want to leave you like this.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine after I nap or something. Don’t worry about me.”
He let out a loud huff. “Don’t worry about you? Okay, Kitten. Sure thing. Never gonna fucking happen.”
“I just meant that I’ll be fine. I probably just need sleep and food.” I hesitated. “At some point.”
He stroked my hair, then stood up to walk over to the windows and pulled the curtains closed.
A moment later, he pressed a kiss to my cheek. Then he was gone.
My eyes opened in the darkened room, and when I turned my head to look for the alarm clock, my neck stiffened under the weight of my twisted sleeping position. How long had I been asleep?
“Jack?”
I moved my arm and the sound of paper crinkling drew my attention toward a piece of paper lying on the bedspread. It was a note from Jack.
Didn’t want to wake you. I hope you feel better. Your tickets are at will-call, but please don’t come if you don’t feel good. I mean it, Kitten. If you feel like shit, stay here! I’ll be back before you know it.
Determined to attend his game, I pushed myself to my feet. My head spun and I pressed my hand against the wall for balance. I needed water, and I knew Jack’s mini fridge would be filled with it.
Opening a bottle, I took a sip before immediately bolting to the bathroom. The water I’d just swallowed came surging back up with a vengeance. Okay, I was definitely sick. There was no way I could go to the game like this; I’d never make it through a single inning.
Reaching for my cell phone, I typed out a message to Jack, letting him know I wouldn’t be at the game. He wouldn’t get to read it until after, but at least he’d know not to look for me and would come straight back to the hotel. Hopefully by then I’d be feeling better.
I set my phone on the bed beside me just as it rang. Melissa’s singsong ringtone filled the room and I pressed OKAY to answer the call.
“Hey, girly,” I whined into the phone line.
“Holy shit, you sound like death. Where are you?” Her chipper tone was almost too much for me to take in my current state.
“I’m in Seattle with Jack. Where are you?”
“Uh,” she stuttered. “I’m at home. Where else would I be?”
I reached for a pillow and tucked it in front of my hips and tummy. Leaning my body against the coolness of the pillowcase helped settle my upset belly. “I don’t know. So, what’s up?”
“Why do you sound so bad? Are you sick?”
“I think so. My stomach is killing me and I threw up right before you called.”
“Pregnant,” she stated in her typical teasing tone, but something in that one word caused my breath to hitch.
When the hell was the last time I had my period? Was it over a month ago? I can’t remember.
“Cass?” Melissa’s voice rang in my ear.
“Sorry, I’m here. Shit, Meli, you might be right.”
“I was totally joking.”
Intrigued by the idea, I sat up and leaned back against the plush headboard. “I know you were, but I’ve been really tired lately. Not to mention, stupid emotional. Like, I cry at everything!” I complained.
“Everything?” she droned, mocking my confession.
“Everything!” I said forcefully. “Commercials. A fucking tissue commercial wrecked me the other day. I had to go to bed to stop thinking about it.”
Melissa laughed hysterically on the other end of the line. I wanted to reach through the phone and smack her. “Oh, holy shit. You totally are pregnant.”
“Meli, I have to go. I’ll call you back.” I hung up before she could respond and forced myself out of bed.
I needed to find a drugstore of some sort and buy some home pregnancy tests. Unless the hotel sold them, which I highly doubted. And the last thing I wanted was to run into a player’s wife or girlfriend while I was buying something like that.
Like an idiot, I talked to my stomach, telling it to settle down enough to let me find a store. And then I promised it that if it let me not be sick until I got back to the hotel room, I’d let it make me sick all night if it wanted. I really needed to be able to find a store, buy some tests, and not puke while doing it.
Luck was definitely on my side because there was a drugstore right across the street from the hotel. I’d never purchased a pregnancy test before, so was surprised to find an entire aisle filled with shelves of them. I decided right then and there that there was definitely such a thing as too many options. There were plus signs, pink or blue, one line or two, yes or no, results before your first missed period or after, and more. My head spun and I had no idea which one was the best to buy. So I purchased four.
I raced back to the hotel, my ridiculous amount of pregnancy tests stuffed into a paper bag. Closing the door behind me, I removed the first box. I read the directions twice before attempting to follow them. The first time, instead of peeing on the damn stick, I peed all over my fingers. I wondered what kind of woman could control the direction of her pee the way the directions seemed to expect we could.
After washing my hands, I hurried into the living area and found my bottle of water. I chugged the whole thing to give myself plenty of ammunition before scooting back into the bathroom.
“Let’s try this again,” I said out loud, giving myself a pep talk.
Miraculously peeing on the proper part of the stick instead of my hands, I set the test on top of the sink counter and poured the rest of the tests out of the bag. They all informed me that they weren’t one hundred percent accurate, so I should take more than one before going to a doctor for final confirmation.
Cell phone in hand, I stared at it, willing the minutes to go by faster. Unable to wait any longer, I wandered back into the bathroom and glanced down at the test, which was changing as I watched. The first window darkened and two lines appeared. It stated on the test that one line meant you were not pregnant and two lines meant you were. But it said nothing about a faint line. What did a barely there second line mean?
I scanned the directions and focused on the Frequently Asked Questions. It stated that the appearance of a second line meant that you were pregnant, no matter how faint or dark the line.
Pregnant.
Not willing to trust the one test, I took two more. All three yielded the same results:
PREGNANT.
Oh my gosh. I couldn’t wait to tell Jack. He’d wanted to knock me up since the night he proposed. I fought the urge to call Melissa back and tell her, dying to share my news with my best friend. But Jack deserved to be the first person to know.
I laughed out loud when I realized why I’d been such a crazy freak lately. Thank heaven I had a reason for my incessant sob fests. I wasn’t going insane, I was just pregnant.
With a baby.
In my belly.
Holy shit.
What if I turn out to be a crappy mom? I wonder how far along I am?
I hid the tests in the closet and fell asleep waiting for Jack to come back. When the door burst open, I jumped, the sound scaring me half to death.
“Sorry, Kitten! My hands are full, that’s why I kicked the living shit out of the door here.” Jack appeared, his arms filled with what looked like grocery bags.
“What is all that?”
“I got you ginger ale for your stomach, plus a bunch of other stuff in case you don’t feel well. And then I got you a bunch of munchies and snacks in case you do. Do you feel better?”
“Much. How was the game?”
He grinned. “We won.”
“Did you throw?”
“Not until tomorrow, you know that.” He narrowed his eyes, looking at me closely before saying, “You’re acting weird.”
Jack couldn’t possibly know anything. I wasn’t acting weird; I was acting just like I always act.
Forcing an innocent look on my face, I asked, “How am I acting weird?”
“You have this look on your face. And your eyes …”
“What about them?”
He ran his thumb down the side of my face. “They’re hiding something, but they want to share,” he said as he lifted his eyebrows at me.
That’s it. He is magic. I knew it.
About to burst with excitement, I couldn’t stall any longer. “I don’t know how you knew that, but I do have something to tell you. It has to do with why I wasn’t feeling well earlier.” I pulled him toward the closet. “The reason’s in there.”
“Is there a guy in the closet?” He stepped back, his hands balling into fists. “There better not be a fucking guy in this closet.”
“What? No? I just hid something in here.” I rolled the door open and pulled one of the tests down from the shelf. Unfolding the washcloth from around it, I presented it to Jack like a crown jewel on a display pillow.
He peeked down at the test stick, his brow furrowing. “What is tha—” He stopped midsentence, his eyes huge. “Is this? Are you?” He looked at me, his face full of wonder, and I nodded.
Jack fell to his knees and pressed his head against my belly. He wrapped his arms around me and held on to me without saying a word, his breath hot through the fabric of my shirt. I’m not sure how long we stood like that, but it felt like hours. When he finally pulled his head from me, tears were falling down his cheeks.
“We’re having a baby?” He covered my stomach with both of his hands.
“Three tests said yes, so I think so.” I smiled down at him as he moved to sit on the floor.
He reached for me and when I linked my hands with his, he pulled me down across from him. “We’re having a baby.”
“Are you happy?”
“Are you kidding, Kitten? I’ve wanted to knock you up since the day I met you!”
“Liar!” I laughed out loud.
“Okay, maybe not the day I met you. But pretty soon after.” He reached for my face, palming it with both his hands. “I can’t believe you have our baby in your belly right now. He’s just in there chilling.”
I rolled my eyes. “Only you would call it a he already. And say that it’s chilling.”
“I love you.” He scooted closer to me, his lips frantic as he kissed all over my face. “I love you so much. Thank you. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for marrying me. Thank you for becoming a part of my family. And thank you for growing our love child in your belly.”
“Our love child?” I snickered. “Jack Carter, you never cease to amaze me.”
“You’re the amazing one. I fucking love you. More than anything else in this world.” He lowered his head back to my stomach and planted a kiss over my top. “And I promise I’ll be a good dad.”
I reached for his hand and caressed it. “I know you will.”
He looked up at me and smirked. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
Smiling, I swatted his shoulder and said, “Well then, it knows.”
“Stop calling our son an it!”
“You stop calling it a him! What if it’s a girl, Jack?” My eyes widened at the thought. “Holy shit, Jack. What if it’s a girl?”
His head tipped back as he laughed full and hard. “Then I’ll kill any guy who comes near her until she moves out of our house.” He took a breath before continuing, “Which will be, never.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, knowing damn well that if we had a girl, Jack probably would go nuts every time she left the house. He reached for my hand and pressed it against his lips.
“And if we do have a girl, Kitten, I hope she looks just like her mom.”
My eyes filled with tears. “Stupid pregnancy hormones. I’m going to spend nine months crying.”
“Then I’ll spend nine months wiping your tears.”
I sniffed, wondering how in the world I’d gotten so lucky. I knew we’d been through hell and back, but all of those times felt so far rooted in the past in this present moment. We were going to have a baby, and I couldn’t think of anything more amazing or wonderful.
“Kitten?” Jack’s hands burrowed into his hair as he tugged at it. “You think I’ll be a good dad?”
I pressed my hand against his cheek. “I know you will.”
“No doubts?”
“Never,” I said softly, longing with all my heart to reassure his worried mind.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Jack, I get to live every day surrounded by your love. It’s deep, it’s passionate, and it’s intense. But it’s honest and true. I know you’ll love our baby the same way. No matter what sex it is.”
“Damn straight!” he proclaimed, rubbing my belly as if it were a Buddha. “There’s a little Carter in there. And I’ll do anything to keep you both safe, protected, and provided for. That’s my job.”
“See? Right there. What you just said. That’s how I know.” I placed my hand over his and squeezed lightly.
Jack pushed himself from the floor before reaching for my hand and pulling me up with him. He wrapped his arms around me and held me so tight, I could literally feel the love radiating between us. With a firm grip on my hand, Jack pulled me toward the bed and sat down before making room for me between his legs. I sat on the bed in front of him and settled in, feeling the muscles of his chest press against my back as he spoke.
“When are you planning on moving, Kitten? I can’t have you all the way across the country. I’ll go fucking crazy knowing you’re alone. I need you with me.” He planted soft kisses along my neck and shoulders.
“I know. I’ll hire movers as soon as I get back.”
“What about your work? Does Nora know you’re leaving?”
I turned my body to glance at him. “Shit! I forgot to tell you. Nora told me I could work on an assignment basis. I had to give her a resignation letter and everything.”
“So, what does that mean? Do you still get to do the shoot with Matteo and Trina after the baby’s born?”
“Yes, I just have to fly back to New York to do it. And whenever an assignment comes up that I’m qualified for and interested in, I just accept the offer. But I don’t have to accept anything, or I can accept everything.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Now that I’m pregnant, though, I’m not sure what I want to do.”
“What do you mean, Kitten? You want to stay home with our son?”
“Jack, stop!” I giggled and rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see, then turned my body around to face him. “But I think I do. Want to stay home, that is. Plus, I really want to be there for you and travel together as much as possible.”
Looking deep into his eyes, wanting to be sure he saw the sincerity in mine, I said, “You see, I had this epiphany on the train home the other day. You’re my home. I don’t want to be where you’re not. And I know those feelings are only going to magnify once the baby comes. I’ll want to keep our family together as often as possible. So, if my career sits on the back burner for now, I’m totally okay with that.”
Jack held a hand in the air to stop me. “Are you sure? You’re okay with not working? I know how much you love photography, and I don’t want you to resent me or hate me somewhere down the line. I’m in this for the long haul, Kitten. I’m not planning on ever letting you go, so I can’t have you hating me in five years.”
“I want to do this. It’s my choice. I want my family to come first, and you,” I choked back a sob, “you’re my family. I’m not saying I’ll never work again, I just don’t want to work for now. Priorities, babe. These are my new ones.”
Jack sighed. “God, Kitten, I want to fight you on this right now. I want to tell you that you’re wrong and stupid and should never quit working because you love it so much, but I’m too busy feeling so happy with everything you just said. Not because you’re giving up something you love, but because there’s no one else on earth I’d rather have raise our son than you. And if that means I get to spend more time with you at home, on the road, wherever—I’m thrilled.”
Then he cupped my cheek with his hand, looked deep into my eyes, and said, “Every moment with you is never enough; I always want more. And I always will.”
Hearing that, I broke out into tears again.
Fucking hormones.