Chapter 3
Hanna
I got dressed and left to meet Stacy for lunch, but the only thing on my mind was Kason. Dear god, he looked so hot now. His broad shoulders and arms were bursting with rippling muscles that I longed to sink my teeth into. I had seen him wiggling around in his seat at the kitchen table. I may not have dated much, but I knew what that meant. He was staring at me just like I was staring at him. At least, I hoped he was.
The look Kason had given me when talking about that internship had been nothing short of wanton. His dark eyes had been mesmerizing and his strong jawline set with a determination to save me from the idiotic bullshit my mentor had just thrust upon me. I had noticed something very different about him, something that had caught my eye the moment I’d thrown open that door and seen him standing there.
His short-sleeved shirt had revealed a sleeve tattoo he hadn’t had back when I’d left for college. Its thick black outlines were peppered with all sorts of colors and designs. I just wanted to sit there and stare at it without interruption. I wanted to finger it and ask him where the idea for it had come from, but mostly I just wanted an excuse to touch his arms. He had veins bulging from his muscles that I wanted to rake my tongue across. I couldn’t help but think about him wrapping me up in those arms and holding my tight, keeping me safe from everything.
Safe and secure was how I felt any time he was around. When he had embraced me the day I’d left for Stanford, I had known everything would be okay, that I would be able to handle whatever college threw my way.
Dear Jesus, we would make beautiful babies together.
I pulled into the restaurant and had to squeeze my thighs together to keep myself under control. I was so riled up after seeing Kason. All I could think about was that finally, after all these years of crushing on him, I was a woman. I was no longer underage or awkwardly covered in pimples. I wore contacts and clothes that actually fit. Kason had known I hadn’t been wearing a bra this morning. I had watched his eyes flicker to my chest and then back to my face with a sheepish expression on his own.
What I wouldn’t give to sit on that man’s lap.
“Hanna!” Stacey shouted.
I got out of my car and ran toward her. When I wrapped my arms around her, I picked her up and spun her around. She seemed much more cheerful than when we’d spoken on the phone yesterday. When I set her down, she was all too eager to blurt out the reason for her chipper mood.
“I’m pregnant!” she announced.
“Oh…my…god! Stacey, why the hell didn’t you tell me yesterday!?”
“I didn’t know yesterday! I woke up sick this morning, so I went to the doctor to get something because I was not breaking this lunch date, and he ran a pregnancy test as protocol. I’m eight weeks along!”
We walked into the restaurant, giggling and bouncing with glee. We were seated and gave the waitress our drink orders before Stacey pulled out the roll of black and white photographs.
“Oh…it’s the little Woods baby bean! It’s so cute!” I shrieked.
“Brad doesn’t even know yet.” She smirked.
“You haven’t called him and told him?!”
“No!” She smiled. “I wanted to do something really special this time to announce it to him.”
“Well…when were you thinking about doing it? I could come over after lunch and help you pick out something to do!”
“Well…” she said slowly.
“Stace…what’s wrong? Is there something wrong with the baby? Or you?”
“Don’t talk like that, Hanna,” she hissed. “You’ll jinx it.”
My heart sank. In the past two years Stacey and Brad had suffered two miscarriages at two completely different moments in her pregnancy. Stacey wanted to have children more than anything, and I knew Brad wanted to fill their home with as many children as Stacey could stand, but I also knew that look in her eye.
It was the look of someone who spent way too much time on the internet because she was panicking.
“Well, it says that the rate of miscarriage for someone who’s already miscarried doesn’t drop until the fourth month of pregnancy…” she said, trailing off and avoiding my gaze.
“Stace, you can’t wait four fucking months to tell him you’re pregnant. Dear god, you’ll be showing by then!”
“Sssshhhh! I know. Just…keep it down.”
“Stacy, this is so unlike you,” I said softly.
“Yeah, well, that was before I lost two children,” she spat.
“Okay. Okay. Well, how sick are you?” I asked.
“It wasn’t bad this morning, just a little dizziness.”
“So you didn’t throw up?”
“Nope.”
“Why don’t you wait until you turn over into your second trimester? For most women, the rate of miscarriage really drops during that time, and you’ll only be three months instead of four, so it’s a nice compromise.”
Stacey mulled it over before she looked down at the pictures on the table. She gathered them up and shoved them back in her purse. I could tell she was holding back tears.
“Water with lemon for you, and a blackberry iced tea for you,” the waitress said as she bounced over to our table.
“Thanks,” we both said.
“I’m really happy for you, Stace.” I smiled. I reached over and grabbed her hand. When she panned her gaze up to my face, I could tell how scared she was.
“It’s gonna happen this time. I know it,” I whispered.
“You said that last time.”
“But this time my right tit is tingling.” I smirked.
Stacey groaned. “Jesuuuus…”
“And you know what happens when my right tit tingles.” I winked.
“Hanna, your right tit can’t predict the future.”
“It tingled when you met Brad, it tingled when I sent off my college application to Stanford, and it’s tingling now, sweetheart.”
“Every woman’s tits tingle when they see Brad; my husband’s hot as hell. And it tingled with Stanford because you had a yeast infection at the time.”
“What does a yeast infection have to do with a tingling tit?!” I asked with a laugh.
“It makes more sense than your boobs being psychic!”
We threw our heads back and laughed until we cried. I really wanted this pregnancy to go well for Stacey. I wanted to visit her and watch her grow bigger and bigger until she couldn’t see her feet. I wanted to go baby shopping with her and piss Brad off with how much money we spent. I wanted to wake up at 3 a.m. and rush home to be with her while she was in labor. I wanted to take every single picture I could while she held her little boy or girl in her arms.
“God, I can’t wait to have a baby.” I sighed.
“Well, once you graduate college and find someone, you can,” Stacey said. “And our kids can be best friends!”
“I don’t know, Stace. I just…it’s bad. It’s really bad. I mean, I never really understood what you meant by clocks ticking and your ovaries pulsing or whatever…but it’s all I’ve been thinking about lately. It’s in my dreams, and every time I see a mother with her child, it’s like my chest leaps with a joy I can’t contain.”
“Yeah… I know how that feels. But Hanna, what are you gonna do? Find yourself a husband in the next few months and get pregnant?” she scoffed.
“I mean, why do I have to be married? I don’t necessarily want to be married. I just want to be a mother.”
“Seriously, Hanna? Do you hear yourself?”
“What?! Stacey, a child…it takes a great deal of work. Marcus, he got the best of my parents. Running around outside, swimming in the lakes, playing at the park until dusk. It wasn’t anyone’s fault that I came along later in their lives, but I don’t have those same memories. I don’t want to do that to my child. I don’t want my child to have a parent that’s too tired, too sick, or too old to play with them. I won’t have it. They deserve better.”
“Hanna…a child is a lot of work. There’s a reason it takes two people to make one, and it’s because it also takes two people to raise one.”
“Damn it, Stace. This is what I want. Yes, Stanford was an incredible opportunity and I wanted it, so I took it. I got there and realized I was smarter than half the idiots running around. I wanted to throw it in their face that a ‘nobody’ could snag the highest honor in my graduating class, so I’m doing it. I’m set to graduate as valedictorian, Stace!”
“And you think you can still do that while pregnant? Hanna, do it in the right order like all of us did. There’s a reason it works like that. There’s a reason it’s better like that.”
“What if I don’t want what you have?” I asked.
“You mean a man to cherish you and love you through anything?”
“I knew you wouldn’t understand…” I grumbled.
“Look, there are plenty of women on this planet who have done it in the right order and still haven’t gotten what they wanted. The order isn’t just for your best interest; it is in the best interest of your child. Children raised in broken homes or with only one parent don’t always turn out the way you want them to, Hanna. Bringing a child into this world without being married—or at least having someone dedicated to you and the baby—it’s a detriment to that child.”
I smirked. “You haven’t even asked me who I have in mind.”
“Fuck,” Stacey said.
“Kason Marx.”
The name caused her to whip her head up and her jaw to drop to the floor.
“Food for the two ladies,” our waitress said, setting our plates in front of us.
“Thanks,” we both mumbled.
“Kason Marx. Like, your brother’s best friend Kason Marx?”
“Yep,” I said. “God, Stacey, you should see him now. He’s strong and determined and he has this beautiful tattoo. I just wanna—”
“Hold on. You’re still on this love boat train with Kason? I thought you abandoned this years ago!”
“You wouldn't think that if you’d seen him this morning like I did.”
“You can’t just have a baby with Kason. Dear god, the man probably sees you as his sister more than he does the mother of his children.”
“Tell that to his erect dick this morning.”
“Hanna! What the hell has gotten into you?!” Stacey whispered harshly.
“I know what I want. I want this degree from Stanford. I want to be valedictorian. I want a child. I want to be able to run around with that child. I want to be able to give my child the things my parents simply couldn’t give me while I was a child. That is what I want and that is what I’ll get.”
“With Kason,” Stacey said.
“With Kason.”
“You can’t really sit here and tell me that what you’re saying doesn’t sound insane,” Stacey said.
“You’ve had trials and things in your life that I thought were absolutely insane, and yet I supported you. Why can’t you support me?”
“Are you really comparing my marriage and miscarriages to your incessant need to be a mother at this very second?” she asked with narrowed eyes.
“Look, all I’m saying is, I’ve made up my mind. If it was so crazy, then my mom wouldn’t be pushing it on me all the time.”
“Lisa’s insane! We all know that!” Stacey exclaimed.
“So aren’t you gonna ask the next question?” I smirked.
“Shit...okay. Assuming I bypass the fact that you’re being a selfish, spoiled brat who is talking about having children without being married to a woman who has already lost two children, how long do you have to convince Kason of this crazy plan?”
“One month.”