Chapter 18

Stephanie

I reach across my kitchen table, which is now littered with so much paper I can’t even see the wood of the tabletop. I flip through a few things and pull out my stack of credit card statements for the last three months. I flip through them, placing a check beside essential needs I’d purchased and crossing through items that were nothing more than wants.

After that’s done, I use the calculator on my phone and add up all of the checked items to determine what would be my average monthly credit card debt if I cut back my spending to just the bare necessities.

Turns out there’s not much to cut, as I’ve never been one to succumb to extravagant purchases.

With a frustrated sigh, I push the statements away and grab the stack of bills for my utilities. It’s pointless to look at them because there’s nothing I can really cut. I need electricity and water, and I don’t have cable. I only pay for Internet access, and that’s unfortunately a necessity as well.

Sitting back in my chair, I throw the bills and pen down, looking at the mess before me. It looks as jumbled and out of sorts as the mess that’s become my life in the last eleven hours.

I had walked into work eager to start my day, but instead I found Mr. Wagoner waiting for me in my office.

Correction. Not my office anymore.

Seems the budget constraints could not be overcome and unfortunately my job was one of five eliminated.

“It’s with a pained and heavy heart that we’re terminating your position immediately,” he’d said, and truthfully, he did look distressed. I was numb, however, and nothing really penetrated. Not even when he finished with, “But we are going to give you two weeks of severance pay.”

That was nice.

I suppose.

I stayed in sort of a daze for the entire walk back to my apartment, carrying only my purse. I didn’t even have a pathetic little box with my personal items because I didn’t have any photos of family and I’m not really a knickknack person. I only had a paperweight in the shape of a NC State Wolfpack head and that felt heavy in my purse.

I came home, took off my work clothes, put on jammies, and I crawled into bed. I pulled the quilt over my head to shut out the bright light of day. I settled into the mattress and opened myself up to hopelessness and depression that I was essentially jobless and only weeks away from abject poverty if I continued to ignore the trust fund from my parents, as I’ve done since I was twenty-one when it came to me.

I lie there, and lie there, and lie there, waiting to fall into a deep slumber that had an “I don’t give a shit about anything” vibe written all over it.

But then I got a call, and for the first time ever, I can admit my mom did something good for me. It was short, because I cut it off pretty quickly, but it was impactful.

“Stephanie,” my mom said in her professional boardroom voice. “I’ve been thinking about this pregnancy.”

“Okay,” I’d said, shocked as hell she called. Shocked as hell I even picked up. And shocked as hell that she wanted to discuss something so personal.

My shock turned to inflamed outrage when she said, “Have you considered an abortion? It would be an easy solution to your problem.”

I couldn’t even respond I was so blown away by her words. She continued. “You’re not really equipped to handle a baby. You’ve got a useless degree, a career with no upward mobility, and you really just job hop around, living more hand to mouth than anything.”

My jaw actually dropped. I mean, I didn’t think either one of my parents could offend me more than they have with their appalling neglect of me growing up, but well…she did it. I’m shocked speechless.

“Stephanie?” she snapped into the phone when I didn’t answer. “Are you there?”

I shook my head, came out of my daze, and asked her a question in return that I’d wondered about for years. “Why didn’t you abort me, Maris?”

She let out a huff of indignation that was completely fake. “That’s a terrible question ask your parent.”

“No, it’s really not,” I said calmly. “You didn’t want me, so why even let me be born?”

“That wasn’t an option,” she scoffs.

“Well, why not?” I pushed at her. “Roe v. Wade was settled law. It was clearly legal. It was an easy solution, and you seem to think it’s good enough for me to consider. So tell me, Maris…why didn’t you abort me?”

She didn’t answer me and her silence sort of told me the truth. Oh, she’d considered it, and considered it hard.

I took a wild guess. “It was too late, wasn’t it? By the time you found out you were pregnant, you were too far along.”

“I don’t have to answer that,” she said in the most profoundly small voice I’d ever heard her use, and I knew I’d guessed correctly.

I did nothing more than quietly disconnect the call and knew I’d never answer another one from her again.

This also spurred me into action, and I shed the hopelessness and frustration over my job loss like fucking dried skin that was no longer needed.

What remained underneath was tender, vulnerable skin, so I conjured up a suit of titanium armor for protection. I was good at that.

This isn’t the first time I’ve lost a job, and I’ve always had confidence I’d bounce right back again. And I always have. The only thing different this time is I have a baby to worry about, which now means the pressure is much higher.

So I’ve been sitting here at my table for several hours, trying to figure shit out. How long can I afford to stay in this apartment? While I didn’t make a crap ton of money at the museum, I made enough to pay my bills and put a little into savings each month.

What are my chances of getting a job, especially with health insurance? I’d turned down the job in Greensboro because Lucas was my primary consideration. I didn’t think it was fair to cut him out of the pregnancy.

But now I’m not sure I can afford to take those considerations into mind when trying to come up with a game plan. I’ve got to worry about the baby first, me second, and Lucas after that.

At least I think that’s the order. It may have been different before that call from my mother, but that’s definitely the order now. I can’t afford to be sentimental.

A banging at my door startles me so badly I let out a little yip of fright. And the fear doesn’t let up either as someone is now jiggling the doorknob. My heart starts beating faster, but then I hear Lucas calling out, “Stephanie…are you in there? If so, please open the fucking door.”

I push up out of my chair quickly, my eyebrows furrowed at the panic I hear in Lucas’s voice. I run to the door and swing it open, catching a flash of the extreme worry on his face before it immediately melts away into overwhelming relief. He jerks me into his arms and mutters, “Thank God. You’re okay?”

His arms tighten and he hugs me for long moments with his lips pressing kisses into my hair. I finally collect myself and wiggle free of his hold, tilting my head back to look at him. “Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“We were supposed to meet for dinner an hour ago,” he says, and my eyes cut over to my clock. It’s now 7:30 P.M.

Looking back to Lucas, I tell him, “We didn’t have dinner plans.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Uh…yes we did. I sent you flowers at work, told you to meet me at Evo at 6:30 P.M.”

I purse my lips and nod in understanding. “Aha. Well, it appears you sent the flowers to the wrong place.”

“What?” he asks in confusion as I step back to allow him in. He continues in a frustrated tone, “I’ve been trying to call and text you. Isn’t your phone on?”

“It probably is,” I say flatly as I turn to the kitchen. “But it’s in my purse in my room and I wouldn’t have heard it, as it’s on vibrate.”

“Jesus, Steph,” Lucas says in exasperation. “You scared the shit out of me when you didn’t show up at the restaurant and you wouldn’t answer the phone. I thought something happened to—”

“I’m fine,” I cut in before he can even finish that thought. “We’re fine.”

“Then what’s going on?” he asks again, this time with a growing irritation in his voice, and he takes in the papers on my table. “What’s all this?”

“Bills,” I tell him, then amend to clarify, “paid bills. I’m trying to update my budget.”

“Because?” he prods.

“Because I lost my job today. I didn’t get any flowers because I wasn’t there.”

“Fucking hell,” Lucas mutters as his face morphs again from annoyance to sympathy. “I’m sorry, babe.”

I shrug. “It is what it is. I’ll figure something out.”

“We’ll figure something out,” he says firmly as he pulls me into his arms and my entire body stiffens. Not because I’m offended, but because he’s interfering in what I do best, and that’s taking care of myself. He’s putting smudge marks on the new shiny titanium armor I just put on, and it’s getting ruined.

It shouldn’t be a big deal. I should be grateful for his concern, but when it boils right down to it, it causes my stomach to hurt at the thought of depending on someone for anything. My mom just made it clear today that I have to buck up and be strong.

I once again wiggle free and play it off as if I want a drink of water from the tap. I walk over to the sink, pull a clean glass from my cupboard, and fill it. “Want anything to drink?” I ask with my back turned to him.

“Stephanie,” he says softly, and I dare not turn around now. I can tell by the tone of his voice that his face is going to be filled with empathy and resolve to be my man who will conquer all my troubles.

Swallowing the feeling of panic, I plaster a bright smile on my face and turn to him. “We should definitely go out to dinner and celebrate. You guys kicked ass in Florida.”

Yes, the Cold Fury was on a roll. Weirdly, they lost the first game of the play-offs at home, which was the night Lucas and I got into our first argument. He was not in a good mood that night and I regretted my decision to stay with him. Not that he was an ass to me or anything. He kept his word and didn’t take his frustrations out on me. But he wasn’t fun to be around and all he wanted to do was just go to sleep. I was totally okay with that, but again…I had to be up early, and because we weren’t celebrating, I really wished I’d just stayed at my apartment.

But whatever.

Luckily, the Cold Fury rebounded big time and won the next home game as well as the two against Florida on the road. He just flew back in today and we had plans for him to come over tonight. I just didn’t figure he’d send me flowers at work and tell me to meet him at a fancy restaurant, and I screwed that up by not having my phone with me.

Or perhaps I didn’t have it with me because I’m subconsciously ignoring Lucas. I knew he’d try to call at some point, and by not having my phone within reach to hear it, maybe I’m just trying to sabotage things with him.

“Stephanie,” Lucas says again, softer this time and completely ignoring my statement that we should go out to celebrate his wins. “Tell me where you want my place to be, and I’ll go there. I’m not trying to handle you. Just help if I can.”

I completely deflate.

Every single fear, anxiety, and doubt I have about Lucas and what he is to me just evaporates. It takes up no more space in my world than the air does, and that’s because he just assured me that he’d play by my rules. This man utterly knows me and knows that I have to do things a certain way. Lucas has offered to move into a place where I can designate him to stay, and even though I won’t do that, there is security in knowing that I can and he’ll be okay with it.

Three steps and I’m in his arms, my face pressed against his chest. He hugs me without hesitation and my arms wrap around his waist. I breathe him in deeply, that particular scent that is all Lucas and is perhaps the best smell in the world.

Turning my face, I put my cheek against him and murmur, “I’m sorry. Sorry I didn’t answer the phone and sorry I won’t let you help me. But you get it, right…why I don’t want you to help me.”

“I get it,” he assures as his hand rubs my back. “But I would like to support you, and I’ll just do that by saying I’ll never let you falter. If you stumble, I’ll pick you up, dust you off, and push you on your way.”

“Oh God,” I mutter, and squeeze him harder. “Stop saying shit like that. You make me want to roll over and bare my throat to you.”

Lucas snickers and pulls back to look down at me. “You are fucking amazing. You’ll be fine.”

“I know I will,” I tell him with a confident smile. “I always am, and apparently you won’t let anything bad happen to me.”

“You know it,” he confirms, and I have to admit, that security blanket he’s giving me feels soft and soothing.

“Let’s go out and eat dinner,” I suggest, and damn, I love the way his eyes light up as if I’d just given him the most extravagant gift in the world.

He thinks my time is the most extravagant gift in the world.

“Where do you want to go?” he asks.

“Somewhere close and fast,” I say as I head back to my room to get changed. “Then you and I have some time to make up for in the bedroom. It’s been a long five days without you.”

The air is practically knocked from my lungs when I find myself scooped up in Lucas’s arms and then he’s propelling us through my bedroom door. He takes me straight to the bed, where he sits me down on it and starts taking off my pajamas.

Laughing, I try to push him away, but I don’t really mean it. “What are you doing? I thought we were going to eat.”

“We need to fuck first,” he tells me as he starts pulling off my pants. “You’re right…it’s been a long five days.”

I bat his hands away from me. “Get your own clothes off. It will go faster.”

Lucas grins and we both start stripping as fast as we can. Within moments we’re tangled in the bed and it’s really the only place I want to be right now.

Lucas pulls out of me and I hate that I feel so empty when he does. But he doesn’t roll over to lie beside me like usual, and instead puts his mouth to my collarbone. Slowly and methodically, he continues to skim his lips over my skin, working left to right and inching down farther along my body. It’s not sexual, but it is worshipful, and I watch him with my breath held in my lungs as he kisses his way down my body, scooting his own down the mattress.

When he reaches my stomach, he lies flat on the bed and turns to lay his cheek right over my belly button. My heart thuds hard against my chest and a warmth unlike anything I’ve felt spreads through me as I realize he’s snuggling up to our baby. My fingers go to his hair and I work them through the thick waves, petting him as he lies on top of me.

After a few moments, he lifts his head and turns his eyes to me. “Your stomach is still so flat. I can’t wait until you get a baby bump.”

I grin down at him. “That probably won’t start until week twelve or so at the earliest, so we still have a couple more weeks to go.”

Lucas tips his face and presses a kiss to my stomach briefly before looking back up at me with a licentious smile. “You do realize that when you get that bump, it’s going to make me hornier.”

Snorting in response, I push away at his head. “Whatever.”

“I’m serious,” he says as he crawls back up my body. “I’m fucking horny right now thinking about your baby bump.”

“You’re horny because you have a naked woman under you,” I point out.

“True,” he admits. “But I’ll be hornier when you have that little bump sticking out.”

“Oh God,” I moan in horror as he rolls off and pulls me with him. “That means more clothes, and that’s not something I want to have to spend money on.”

Lucas holds his silence, and I know this is calculated to keep me in my comfort zone. He knows I don’t want my baby daddy buying me maternity outfits, although I do hate shopping so much maybe that would be okay for him to do.

Even though he’s being respectful and cautious, he still wants to be in the know. “You have any ideas what you’re going to do?”

I don’t mind sharing with him and discussing ideas. “I’m just going to put in applications and résumés wherever I can. I’m not picky at this point, but I am going to try to concentrate in the downtown area so I can at least keep this apartment. I don’t want to deal with a move anywhere, especially not away from you.”

“You’re that hot for me, huh?” he jokes, but I also hear the tenderness in his voice, and I know he understands I’m staying in this area so he can be involved with the pregnancy. He doesn’t have to say it either, but I know if I fell flat on my face, he’d help me stay in this area, and while I don’t want to appreciate that about him, I totally do.

“I’ve been thinking,” I toss out, and then gauge his initial bodily reaction. He’s loose, relaxed, and stroking his hand over my hip. He’s not poised to jump on any little thing, wanting to come in and rescue me.

No, he’s patiently waiting to see what my plan is, and then he’ll give me advice.

“I’ve been thinking,” I start again, “of using some of my trust money to start up the nonprofit.”

Lucas immediately releases me and pushes back so he can look me in the face. “Really? That would be awesome.”

My lips press together in disdain at what I’m about to say. “I’d have to use some of that money to exist on until I got it up and running. I couldn’t start a full-time job and do that at the same time.”

With his head tilted, Lucas asks, “Why should that bother you?”

“I don’t know,” I say with frustration at myself. “I’ve never wanted that money. I didn’t earn it. If I use it, I have to be thankful to my parents for something, and I don’t want to be grateful to them for anything. I thought I could probably stomach using it to start a nonprofit, but the idea of using it to pay my personal expenses is making me slightly nauseated.”

He doesn’t say anything at first, but rather sits up in the bed, taking me with him. Lucas then runs a hand down my arm, and back up again in a soothing way meant to reassure. “Steph…I get exactly why you don’t want to use that money. Your reasoning is sound and legitimate. But let me offer this. Your parents never gave you the things you needed growing up. You never got love, security, support, conversation, devotion, whatever. But maybe they can give you something now that you need. Yes, it’s money, but it will help you. I’m not saying you have to be grateful to them for it, but perhaps you should take it because it’s your due for all the ways in which they failed you.”

My brows draw together, not because I’m confused by what he says, but because I’m confused by my reaction to it. Confused as shit, because for the first time ever, I don’t feel aversion to something that’s attached to my parents. It doesn’t make me feel slimy and it doesn’t turn my stomach to consider taking the money I considered to be a payoff.

Maybe Lucas is right. Maybe it’s my due and I would put to very good use.

“I think you might be right,” I murmur to him. “Maybe that is the answer to everything.”

“See,” he says with a bright smile. “That just solved a lot of your problems. And now you can actually do something that you’re passionate about.”

I lean into him, grab his face, and plant a huge kiss on it. “I’m passionate about you.”

“I know,” he says cockily, and then he kisses me and it’s even better.

When we pull apart, his expression turns sober. “I’m going to offer a bit of help, though, and you can just say yes or no. It’s not a big deal.”

“What?” I ask guardedly.

“Will you let me buy your health insurance?” he asks hesitantly. “I want the very best for you and our baby, and the very best will be expensive.”

“You want to cover the cost?” I ask for clarification, and mainly to stall, because I don’t know what my answer would be.

“Well, I know you wouldn’t marry me, which would automatically entitle you to my policy, so yeah…let me buy your health coverage.”

Lucas’s tone is carefree and light, indicating this isn’t a big deal. But his tone changed slightly when he talked about marriage, and I wonder if that’s something he would want. I know it’s not something I want, or at least I’ve never wanted in the past. Granted, Lucas makes me feel something I’ve never felt before, so perhaps I’m changing.

I’m just not sure it’s enough to ever give him what he might truly want from me.

A family.

“I’ll think about it,” I tell him, giving him a light smile. “I’m definitely not as averse to it as I thought I would be.”

But I don’t tell him I’m still scared about the ties that are binding us closer together. Smart guy that he is, I’m sure he has that figured out already.