Chapter Fifteen

Julie

"It's good to have you home, little sister."

I look up from the box I'm unpacking to Joe. He’s leaned against the doorway, a huge smile on his face. Unfortunately, I can't bring myself to be so happy. I've been back for almost a week and I'm still struggling to finish unpacking my final boxes. It's not like I have a huge amount of stuff to unpack, but I can’t bring myself to pull all my belongings back out of the boxes and bags and find places for them in my room again. It's almost as though if I do, I'll finally be admitting I failed.

I try to tell myself that I’m being ridiculous. I didn't fail. This isn't crawling back home because I couldn't make it in Pennsylvania. I did make it in Pennsylvania. I have a bonus-padded bank account to prove it. There should be no embarrassment in coming back and facing everyone. They know what I was able to do with Shane. I made sure of that during the weeks we were here for the football camp with Joe. I paraded him around town, revisited his old haunts, and let people watch him enjoy his hometown again.

Nearly all the people we met were thrilled to see Shane and be able to talk to him. The few moments of bitterness we encountered were quickly forgotten in how much we fun we had. There was another reason behind to the reunion tour, though, that I wouldn't admit to anyone. There were also selfish motivations to me escorting him around town. Being seen with him and talking about what we were doing was a way to let all those who told me I'd never accomplish anything that I had done exactly what I said I was going to do.

Remembering the happiness I felt back then makes me feel even emptier now. I shouldn't let it. That's not what I should be thinking about. My thoughts need to be focused on readjusting to life back home and my new job. Supposedly.

The problem with the job is that it doesn't exist. I lied to Shane when I told him I was moving back home to take a new job and think about my pregnancy. Instead of having a job at the local PR firm lined up for me, I’m going to rely on the bonus I earned from Mr. Slidell. When I told him I was leaving, he was upset, but he agreed to give me my bonus a little early. I came back here with what I originally left with, a few things I acquired in the months I was in Pennsylvania, and the bonus. Until I think through everything that’s happening with the pregnancy, and Shane, that’s all I’ll have. Getting pregnant was something I never gave any thought to, and definitely didn't plan. Now that it's happening, I'm overwhelmed.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you?" Joe asks, stepping into the room.

I nod sadly.

As hard as I've tried, I haven't been able to keep my mind off Shane.

"Julie, you have to let it go. I know telling you that isn't actually going to make a difference, but you need to listen to me. Shane isn't good enough for you. More importantly, he could never be the type of father your baby deserves. He just doesn't have it in him."

"I thought the two of you were starting to get along better by the time the camp was over," I say.

"We were. Comparatively speaking. But that was before I found out he knocked up my sister."

I cringe.

"You don't have to put it that way."

"I'm sorry. Shane used to be a good guy. Or maybe, he used to be better at acting like it. I don’t want you to worry yourself sick thinking about him. What you should be thinking about is yourself, and your baby. He would just disappoint you if you tried to include him."

"I'm going to be fine," I say. "I can handle this."

I say it to stop Joe from continuing the talk I've heard from him several times since getting back. Logically, I know he’s right. In my heart, though, I'm just not sure. I don't know if I can handle being pregnant or being a mother. I know I’ll also have to provide for my child, and that means finding a decent job. The bonus Mr. Slidell gave me was extremely generous, and it's enough to rely on for a while, but it's not going to last forever – especially now that I’m preparing for a baby.

I look around my room. It feels like reality is finally settling in. This is home. Again.

Letting out a long sigh, I walk over to a box sitting under the window in the same place I put it my first night back. I rest my hand on top. It's time. This will make it official. Most of my clothes are still packed away, and I can't figure out where I packed my underwear. I had to go buy new ones in fear of having to go commando. My knickknacks are still wrapped. They can all wait. This box can’t.

I open the box and pull out what's inside. Holding it, I walk across the hall into my bathroom. Stepping into the shower, I run the faucet just long enough to fill one palm with water. I wait a few seconds for the droplets to glide away, before unfurling Rubber Duckie and pressing him to the dampened surface. He had greeted me as soon as I entered that apartment, and I wasn't about to leave him behind.

One month later…

"I still don't understand," I tell Bump. "I've tried, but I must have some sort of block against understanding football. No matter what I do, it just won't click."

Bump doesn't respond. That's a good thing considering at only three months along, it's barely visible yet. I can tell the subtle difference, but no one else has seemed to notice. It looks like I ate a few too many of the caramel apple cookies I've been baking recently. It's a recipe I haven't used in years, but for the last two weeks, these cookies have been one of the only things that don’t make me sick. As much as I hope the erratic waves of nausea end soon, I'm fine with people continuing to assume I've downed a dozen too many. I haven't told anyone in town yet other than Joe. I even chose a midwife almost an hour away in the city, just to avoid raising eyebrows. I'm not ready for that just yet.

The doorbell startles me, and I press my hand to my chest to quiet my heart as I make my way to the front door. Glass panels on either side of the door blur the image of the person on the other side, but I immediately know who it is. I pause partway down the front hallway, not sure if I want to open the door. The doorbell rings again, and Shane's fuzzy silhouette waves at me.

I don't think I can get away with pretending I'm not here.

Opening the door, my breath catches in my throat when I see him again. Shane looks incredible. A more intensive practice schedule and being out on the field seems to have brought out even more of a golden hue to his skin. Somehow his body looks even stronger and more chiseled than before, and even though he's casual in a pair of jeans and sweater, the effect he has on me is devastating.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"I came to see you," he says. "Aren't you going to let me inside?"

I feel like he's asked me this same exact question before. Despite my initial hesitation, I step out of the way, letting him inside the house.

"You look good," I can't help but tell him.

"So do you. You look beautiful. Are you… I mean did you... I mean… how are you?"

I've never heard him sound so unsure of himself. There was a time when I would have enjoyed the strain of uncertainty in his voice but now it only makes me uncomfortable.

"I'm still pregnant, Shane," I tell him, killing the suspense. "I'm planning on being pregnant for quite a while still. I'm keeping the baby."

He nods.

"You're not showing at all."

"How are you here right now?" I ask. "Shouldn't you at practice or playing or something?"

"I’m here because I want to be," he says. “I would have been here weeks ago, but you asked me to give you time and space.”

"I did," I say. "So why are you here now?"

I feel my throat tightening as my chest aches with emotion.

"The team's playing just a couple hours from here. I can't stay for long, but I couldn't resist coming to see you."

"Of course, you couldn't. As long as it was convenient for you and didn't damage the team."

"So, now you're upset with me for doing what you asked me to and respecting your space?"

I sigh and walk down the hallway into the living room.

"No," I say.

Shane follows me.

"What do you want from me, Julie? You asked me to stay away and give you time to think through everything. And I did. Now you're upset about that? And also upset that I happened to come and see you when it was convenient?"

“I told you, Shane, I'm not upset. And I don't want anything from you. I don't need anything from you."

Shane looks over at the TV, then back to me.

"Suddenly started watching football now?" he asks. "Missed me?"

He says it almost bitterly, but I don't want to argue with him. That anger is gone.

"Of course, I miss you. I miss you every day. I started missing you before I left Pennsylvania."

Shane takes a step toward me.

"Then, why, Julie? Why won't you come home?"

"I am home."

"You know that's not what I mean. Why are you still here? Why won't you come back to Pennsylvania? Because I know you're not here for some job."

I feel my cheeks burning.

"How do you know that?" I ask.

"Gloria told me," Shane says. "She told me you admitted that you didn't have a job lined up here and that as far as she knew, you still weren't working."

"I'm not even in the same state, and the thin walls of that apartment are still taking away all my privacy," I mutter.

“It just doesn't make sense," Shane says. "Why would you come back here if you don’t even have a job? And don’t tell me you still need time to think, because you just said you already made a decision. I can take care of you. Both of you."

"That's the thing, Shane. I don't want to feel like you're taking care of me because you have to. Like it’s some moral obligation. That's not the type of life I want – for either of us. I might miss you, but I don’t want to be some kept woman, knocked up by an NFL star. So, for now, I need to be alone. In a few months, I'm going to have this baby, and I need to know that I can handle that responsibility on my own. I need to know that I can do this and stand on my own two feet.”

Shane

Later that evening…

Julie’s words endlessly repeat in my head the entire flight back to my team. It’s a short flight, but as my mind continues to conjure up images of what happened in Virginia, it feels endless. Coach had given me permission to go and see her when I explained the situation, but only for a few hours. It meant I could fly to the nearest airport, spend a short time with her, and then fly back. Even though it meant more than half a day of traveling for an hour of talking to her, it was worth it. Being away from her for that long was killing me. I didn't know how she would react to me showing up at her house unannounced, or if she would even talk to me. There was a good chance she would open the door, see it was me, and shut it in my face immediately.

I'm still struggling to understand why she came back here. When Gloria told me she didn’t have a job, it shocked me, but also made me angry. I'm pissed off over the way Julie reacted to the conversation in the apartment. I'm irritated that she lied to me. And I'm mad that she gave me such a bullshit answer and left me to go back home.

At the same time, I know what makes sense to her, or is best for her, isn’t up to me. She is intimately more involved in this situation than I am. I know my child is there. I know my son or daughter is growing inside of her. But for Julie, it’s her body. At least I can distract myself. I can bury myself in my workouts, or in a game, and not dwell on the pregnancy for a while. Julie doesn't have that option. The baby growing inside of her is a part of her. She will carry that baby for six more months. By the time I'm able to hold my baby, she will have already been taking care of him or her for almost a year. I know this means she needs to make the decisions that are right for her. This doesn't stop it from hurting deep inside my chest every time I remember she's not here with me, and that she doesn’t want me to be a part of this. Not right now, at least.

I admire how determined Julie is to be independent. She doesn't have to be, and yet she's driven to prove that she can provide for the baby comfortably and safely without relying on anyone else. Suddenly, I realize that I’m not upset with Julie. I’m mad at myself. I've never really thought about being a father, but now that the opportunity is right in front of me, it is more precious than I could have ever imagined. I want to be a good father to my child, but that sentiment alone is not enough. Not anymore. I want to be with Julie. I can't do either with how I’ve acted in the past. I have to change and become the man the two of them deserve. All the work Julie put into improving my reputation and restoring my image was incredibly successful, and I might be even more popular now than before, but it just isn’t as important to me as it once was. It doesn't matter what other people think about me, or how they look at me. All that matters now is Julie. I’m going to do whatever it takes to prove myself worthy of being her partner, and father to our child, while also ensuring she has what she needs to move forward.