Twenty
Natasha
It took a few days to get an internet signal powerful enough to send the email to the board, but once they received it a satellite call came through. The board was ecstatic over my pregnancy, but they did give me the option of sitting on the board since I was coming back stateside. I told them it was a generous offer and that I would consider it. But I had at least one other person who now had a say in what I did. Carter’s opinion mattered. Not that it hadn’t before, but I was carrying our child. What I did and the path I chose directly related to him now, which meant I needed to have a conversation with him about it first.
I was thankful that the board understood, and they said they would be waiting for my email.
I packed up my things and was on the first flight back into the States. I flew directly into San Francisco and headed straight for Carter’s house. I smelled like dirt and mud and smoke, and part of me considered stopping off and getting a hotel somewhere. Taking a shower and cleaning myself up a bit before I approached their house.
But I was too anxious to waste another second.
I needed to know if he was going to do this with me or if I was in this alone.
If I was in this alone, I could do it in Africa. I would need special provisions that would most certainly come out of my paycheck, but that was what I would want. To work with those kids until my pregnancy forced me back into the States. I would sit on the board and raise my child until they were off to college.
Then, I would go back.
I had a plan, but it was second to the one I was hoping would pan out. I knew Carter was still going to be angry with me. I just hoped he allowed me to talk when I showed up. My hands were shaking in my lap as the cab made its way to Carter’s address, and I made myself so nervous I felt sick. Would he yell at me? Cast me aside? Tell me he didn’t want a child with me and make me do this on my own? Would the kids still hate me? Would they still be upset with me?
My mind was racing with a thousand different scenarios, and all of them ending in disaster.
The cab pulled up to the house and there were no cars in the driveway. All of the lights in the house were off, and I wasn’t sure what to do. I wasn't in any condition to sit in a restaurant and wait until he got home. But I didn’t have an apartment to go back to in order to kill time.
So I paid the cab driver, pulled my things out, and went to go sit on his porch.
I rocked in the rocking chair and thought about our life together. About everything that had brought us to this point. I had met Carter over a year ago, and in that time so much had changed. We went from strangers to lovers to two people whose lives molded together perfectly. We fell into a rhythm that felt familial and my life was consumed by him and his three beautiful children. They regarded me as one of their own and, in some ways, I thought of them as my own family.
Then Africa happened again and I got selfish.
Maybe selfish wasn’t the right word. But I did misstep. I owed Carter at least a conversation about it with everything we had been through together. The navigating of platonic waters for the children while secretly wanting one another in the shadows. Educating Carter on how each of his individual kids thrived and how he could make sure to incorporate all of that into their schedules. Him providing me with a way of life I didn’t think was possible for myself. Providing me with support and good conversation and an overwhelming desire to start again.
Maybe that was why I took the Africa job. I thought starting again meant going back there.
I had never considered the fact that ‘starting again’ meant building a life with him.
I closed my eyes and saw how my body would change. How it would grow and morph and how scarred up it would become. I saw myself in the hospital room, pushing and grunting and crying and sweating. Begging Carter to make it go away and yelling at him about how he would never touch me again.
I felt him kissing my forehead as our baby cried out into the room, filling the hospital with its beautiful sound.
I saw all of the kids running around in the backyard. I saw Carter cradling his newborn child in the middle of the night. I saw Clara wanting to snuggle and the boys wanting to doggie pile and dinners on the table right at six. There was homework and daily activities and weekend ball games and wine visits from other mothers. There were weekend getaways where Carter’s lips would never leave my body and moments where I could wake up moaning his name as he sank between my thighs.
I felt a tear of happiness streak down my cheek as a sound graced my ears.
Rubber tires on cement was heard off in the distance. I picked up my head and wiped at the tear on my face as Carter’s SUV came into view. I could see his shocked face through the windshield.
But the kids were already throwing their doors open.
“Miss Nattie! Miss Nattie! You’re back!”
The came running up the porch and I sprang up from the rocking chair. I fell to my knees and wrapped them up tightly in my arms. Tears fell from my eyes as I kissed every single one of their heads, feeling them bury into me as I fell over onto the porch.
“Guys. Guys. Be careful with Natasha.”
Oh, that voice.
That beautiful, rumbling, commanding voice.
“Are you staying?” Clara asked.
“Can we fire our nanny now?” Nathaniel asked.
“Will you come to my basketball game this weekend?” Joshua asked.
“Basketball? When did you start playing basketball?” I asked.
“A few weeks ago,” Carter said.
I looked up and saw his beautiful green eyes. Twinkling at me as he held out his hand. I reached up for him and he helped me to my feet as the kids slid from my grasp.
His touch still sent shivers up my skin.
Now that I was standing in front of him, I had no idea how to speak. I lost all forms of communication as I stared up into his eyes. Tears continued to brew and fall and his smile soon morphed into a curious concern.
He cupped my cheek and I nuzzled into it before he engulfed me with his arms.
“You’re back,” he said.
“I’m pregnant,” I said.
He whipped up from my shoulder before his eyes dropped to my stomach. I had no idea how else to say it. So it… slipped out. I felt like I had been put underneath a microscope. The kids were rushing into the house as we stood on the porch, Carter’s eyes taking in his fill.
“What?” he asked.
“I’m sorry. I’m… I… I uh…”
“You’re pregnant,” he said.
“About three months, according to Clark.”
“Clark?”
“The doctor I was with in Africa,” I said.
“You’re pregnant,” he said.
Then, I saw a grin bloom across his cheeks.
“Holy shit, you’re pregnant!”
He wrapped me in his arms again and picked me up. He swung me around and I closed my eyes, clinging onto him for dear life. He peppered my neck with kisses and cheered in my ear. My heart felt like it was floating on cloud nine as I wrapped my legs around his waist. I rose up and our foreheads connected, his breath pulsing on the tip of my nose.
I had missed that sensation. That feeling. That smell.
I had missed everything about Carter.
“You’re coming inside with me,” he said.
“Okay,” I said. “I like the sound of that.”
Carter held me with one hand while he picked up my backpack with the other. The kids were sitting at the table, waiting for someone to get them some food. He sat me on the couch and tossed my backpack into a corner, then proceeded to get his hungry kids a bite to eat.
Then he sat down beside me and pulled my legs into his lap.
“Surprise?” I asked.
He threw his head back and laughed, filling the room with the most beautiful sound I had ever heard.
“You really are something,” Carter said.
“Are you upset?” I asked.
“Do I look upset?”
“Is that a trick question?”
“No,” he said. “I’m not upset.”
“I don’t have a place to stay right now, but my next stop is to go talk to my previous landlord. Maybe I could get an apartment in the same complex I was at. It was a pretty safe side of town.”
“Or you could take me up on the offer I tried before you left.”
“Offer?”
“To move in, remember?”
I had tried to block that moment from my memory. Allowing it to fade away as if my feelings for Carter could.
“Either way, it’s in the past,” he said. “And I think that with this new journey we’re about to find ourselves in, it’s best if we stick together.”
“We?” I asked.
“Yes, ‘we’. That’s my child you’re carrying. Do you think I’m going to let you sleep alone in some apartment while you’re pregnant?”
“So… you’re going to do this with me?” I asked.
“Natasha, what did you think was going to happen?”
“I don’t know. I guess I was bracing for the worst.”
Carter gathered me in his arms and my face fell into the crook of his neck. I breathed him in as the children ate, their minds preoccupied with their food. I nuzzled into him and felt his scruff against my skin. How soothing such a rough feeling could be if it came from the right person.
“Move in with me,” Carter said. “You can have any room in the house. Any section of the house. But we should be together through this. I want to come home to you, Natasha.”
“What if I’m too tired to nanny?” I asked.
I felt his lips plant into my forehead, pressing a kiss into my skin.
“I’m not asking you to take care of the kids. I’m asking you to be with us,” he said.
“Then how will I afford things? My stuff’s in storage and I’m still paying the insurance on my car-”
“I don’t think you understand me,” he said. “I’m taking care of you.”
“Yes, physically. But not monetarily.”
“Any way you need,” he said.
I rose up and hooked my eyes with his before my face grew stern.
“You’re not paying for my life. That life is mine,” I said.
“And I would never take that independence away from you. But you’re going to be the mother of my child, and I want to take care of you. I want to make sure you’ve got everything you need. That means paying for medical bills, paying for things our child needs, and taking on your bills so you can be around us without having to kill yourself at a job somewhere.”
“Carter, I don’t know if-”
“Will you move in with us?” he asked.
I looked up and saw the kid’s attention trained solely on me.
“They’re looking at us,” I said.
“I don’t care,” Carter said. “Answer the question.”
“With them listening?” I asked.
“Why not?”
My eyes fell to his as my hand cupped his cheek.
“Yes,” I said. “I’ll move in with you.”
“Then we’ll take everything else one step at a time,” he said.