Chapter 17 - Lacy
After Riker’s call I stood before the mirror, the phone still in my hand. As miserable as I felt inside, it hardly compared to the woman I saw in the reflection. The sparkle was gone from my eyes and my hair looked limp. I knew that wasn’t because of the pregnancy; it was more about me being in a depression.
I’d been surprised that Riker had called to ask me out. In the split second before I answered, I’d processed a dozen different scenarios under which I could meet him and still have him not know. I was miserable with my decision to not tell him. He deserved to know. But there was so much at stake. So much that I didn’t have control of. If the word got out, I could never get it back. Mrs. Pettibone would ruin me, and then there was Melanie waiting in the wings to finish me off. And there were still those unanswered questions about Riker. I knew I should have pressed him for those answers, but I had run out of time. The only focus I could afford at the moment was taking care of the child within me. As soon as it was born, I would begin nurturing it into life. It was hard enough to do that for myself. I hoped I was up to it for a child.
I had never realized the attachment a woman could have to an unborn child. Up to that point, a baby bump was not much more than just that. It was a sign that a woman was about to give birth, but the idea that there was life inside that bump hadn’t really occurred to me until I had my own. While it was still too early to feel kicking or the tiny body moving around, I knew it was in there. It was fragile, it depended on me, and my life was now dedicated to it.
I lifted my shirt and turned sideways. The nausea was keeping me from eating, and the pounds had begun to drop off. Even though there was a noticeable bump where my tummy was, the weight loss balanced it out and I was still able to wear my normal clothes. I was grateful for that; it bought me more time.
There was a knock at the door. I quickly dropped my shirt and adjusted my clothing. I opened the door to see Melanie standing there.
“Hi.” Her face was bland.
I was puzzled. Had I forgotten an appointment with her? Maybe it was something to do with paperwork she needed from me. I had no idea. “Hello. This is a surprise.”
“I know, can I come in?”
“Sure, come on in,” I told her, standing back to open the door wide. She walked through and slid her boots off on the rug, something she’d never done before. Was this an act of penitence? What was she up to?
“Okay if I sit down?” I nodded and gestured to the living room. Sitting at the table would force my shirt flat against my tummy, and she was sharp-eyed. We sat down, and I looked at her to begin the conversation, which she did.
“So, I was wondering, I mean, after our last discussion, I know I sort of pushed you and you were probably pissed and that’s why you fired me. I get that.” She looked to me to disagree, but I sat there calmly and waited. “Okay, so I was wondering if maybe you’d changed your mind? I mean, maybe you’re too busy to handle everything on your own, and if I promise to be a little more respectful, maybe you would hire me back?”
“Melanie, I’m sorry you’ve come all this way. It probably would’ve been better if you’d called. As your employer, well, your former employer, I have to be careful with our conversations, so let’s just leave it that I haven’t changed my mind. I appreciate your coming over, but there really was no need.”
“You don’t forgive very easily, do you?”
I took a deep breath. She was prodding me into anger, trying to get me to say something she could use against me, probably so she could sue me. I didn’t need that complication on top of everything else just then. So I said nothing.
She looked at me, and the corners of her mouth turned down again. I’d seen that before, and it always meant she was about to say something nasty. “So, I was talking to Riker…” Oh God, here it comes. “He seems to think that you consider yourself better than him. He said he doesn’t want any goody-two-shoes with that kind of an attitude so he’s finished with you.”
My mind raced over my conversation with Riker the night I’d confronted him. I could see that maybe in my fear, I’d been a little too judgmental. He possibly could’ve said that. A physical pain began in my heart again. I knew the truth—I knew I was in love with him. I was carrying his child, and my personal happily ever after was being tossed out the window with my own two hands. Even so, I had no choice, because I couldn’t control the outcomes involved.
I rose to my feet, careful to do it smoothly despite the nausea that was about to send me to the bathroom. “You’ll have to excuse me, Melanie. I have an appointment and need to get ready. I’m sure you can find your own way out.”
I didn’t wait to argue with her; I simply went into the bathroom and flipped on the shower to hide any noises of my being sick. When it was over, I opened the door just enough to make sure that she’d gone before I came out.
I went to lie on my bed, a cold washcloth over my eyes as I waited for the nausea to pass. I tried to focus on happy things to get through it. The pictures flashed through my mind’s eye. Sitting down by the lake with Riker and Jonas, roasting hotdogs. Standing at the window with Riker coming up behind me, wrapping his arms around me to hug me against him. The look on Jonas’s face when he won the decorating contest. The night I’d spent with Riker in his bed, his heavy but oh-so-dear head lying against my breast. I was making myself even more miserable, but I didn’t know how to make it stop. My cell phone rang, but I just couldn’t talk. I let it go to voicemail, rolled over onto my side and closed my eyes.
I couldn’t find the peace that a nap would bring. I tried to think about the baby, wondering whether it was a boy or girl. I thought of names and how I would decorate the nursery. A nursery? Where was I going to let the baby sleep? I couldn’t hide the baby forever; eventually someone would find out. My head ached with the complications.
Then I came back to Melanie’s visit and the aggravation with her resurfaced. I was so frustrated that I had to take it out on someone. I picked up my cell and tapped out a text to Riker.
Melanie was here. She told me you think I’m a goody-two-shoes. I thought you understood me better than that. I’m really disappointed in you. Stay away.
I tapped the send button and then quickly went into my contacts and blocked his number so he could neither call nor answer my text. In effect, I was blocking him from my life. I was starting out brand-new, and neither Riker, Mrs. Pettibone, or Melanie Curry were part of it.