Two Months Later
I look down at the toilet paper and see red spotting, my shoulders instantly relaxing as I let out a breath.
Thank God. I laugh to myself and quickly finish up, three days of worry finally ending.
I knew I should’ve gotten an implant. I’ve been taking my birth control, but it’s not as effective as other methods, and being a teen mom is not where I want to be right now. The press and Chapel Peak would have a heyday if I came off this mountain pregnant.
I’m not sure how Kaleb would take it, either.
It’s late April, the property is still covered in snow, but the days are warmer and there are patches of grass. Jake is working on the roads now.
The last two months since we brought Kaleb home have been…like a dream. After Noah got on my case that day in February, I put it all out of my mind and decided to enjoy what time we had left here. The seclusion, the peace, and the long nights. I’ve never slept better or been this happy, my nightmares—or night terrors—having stopped long ago. Kaleb and I read, we all watch movies and play cards, and I taught Noah how to waltz in the living room on St. Patrick’s Day. I’ve climbed trees, learned how to make a belt, and taught myself how to update Van der Berg Extreme’s website.
I’ve even gotten pretty good on the dirt bikes.
We should be able to rejoin the world soon, though, and I’ve never wanted time to pass so slowly. Decisions will need to be made, and I haven’t wanted this day to come.
I head out of the bathroom and up to our room on the third floor, hugging myself in my long-sleeved T-shirt as chills spread down my legs, bare in my sleep shorts.
Mirai is coming tonight, and I’ve been working on making sure the house looks as clean and nice as possible, so she doesn’t have a reason to pick a fight with Jake. If she’s able to make it up here, that is. If he can’t get the roads cleared, she’ll be holed up in a motel in town and have to wait it out.
At least I’m not pregnant, though. And if I were, at least I wouldn’t be showing yet. Kaleb and I are on each other every day, sometimes more than once, and I’ve been lucky my birth control hasn’t failed. My period being three days late gave me a good scare.
I stop in front of the long mirror I had moved up from my room and turn sideways, running my hand over my stomach. The fitted, white T-shirt is flat and smooth over my tummy, but for a few scary days, I thought part of Kaleb might be in there. Part of Kaleb and me.
I lift up my shirt, envision my belly growing with his kid and trying to ignore the way my body warms at the thought, because I shouldn’t want that. It’s so cliché. Baby makes three and happily-ever-after.
I’d love to have his child, though. Someday. I’d love to be his forever and see him as a father.
I close my eyes, shaking my head at myself, because I know the truth. I only want his kid, because I’m not sure I have him. If I got pregnant, I wouldn’t have to make any decisions, because my fate would be sealed, and I’d stay. No need to stress.
Pounding and thuds suddenly hit the stairs, and Noah and Kaleb come rushing through the door, tumbling onto the floor and laughing. I freeze, my shirt still up and my hands still on my stomach.
Their laughter dies down, and they lift their heads, looking up at me and taking me in.
I quickly pull my shirt down.
Kaleb climbs to his feet, staring at me and not blinking, and Noah rises, standing there in limbo for a moment before he finally decides to leave.
Kaleb’s eyes drop to my stomach.
“I’m not,” I tell him. “I was just…playing around.”
He thins his eyes on me, and I still see uncertainty there.
“My period was late,” I explain. “I got it this morning. I was just…thinking about…what it… would be… like. I’m…” I run a hand through my hair. “I’m stupid.”
I laugh nervously, caught. I was fantasizing, and now he’s probably worried I’ll sabotage my birth control.
But he steps over to me and places a hand on my stomach, staring at his fingers as they splay across my belly. A flutter hits me, and I almost feel dizzy.
We lock eyes, and before I know it, he takes my hand and leads me down the stairs.
“Kaleb,” I protest. What is he doing?
He walks me into the bathroom and opens the medicine cabinet, taking my birth control out.
Turning, he looks down into my eyes, so many emotions crossing his face. He opens his mouth, and I hold my breath, because it looks like he’s going to speak.
His breath fans across my lips, and he holds me, kissing my forehead, nose, and mouth.
And then, he holds my eyes and drops the pills into the trash.
“Kaleb, no.” I dive down and snatch them back out.
He tries to pry them from my hand, but I keep hold. I rest my forehead against his mouth, closing my eyes and almost smiling. He wants us to have a baby. He wouldn’t be mad or feel trapped at all.
He wants me.
That’s all I wanted to know.
“I don’t want to leave you ever, but…” I look up at him. “We’re too young. We’re too… Too much shit we’ve been through. We’re not ready yet.”
He slowly tugs the pill more and more, and I struggle to keep hold of them.
“I love you,” I whisper. “We have our whole lives.”
He kisses me, his mouth moving stronger and deeper as he takes hold of my face with one hand and tries to pry the pills away with another. His tongue swirls like a cyclone down to my toes, and I whimper, my muscles going weak. I lose the pills and the next second I hear them drop into the trash again.
He wraps his arms around me, and I don’t realize he’s carrying me until he lays me on our bed upstairs.
He always gets his way. Damn him.
I make a mental note to go dig the pills out again before Jake burns the trash.
Kaleb and I stare at each other as he takes a bite of chicken and feeds me the other half of the piece. I sit in his lap at the table, trying to hide my smile, but he can’t, because he’s grinning like we have a secret.
Which we do. We’re not actually trying to get pregnant, are we? I haven’t dug the pills out yet, but leaving him is the last thing I want to do. It seems nice, the idea of building a family with him. He’s almost twenty-two. He seems ready for it all.
I let out a breath, eating a forkful of scrambled egg and loading up the utensil again, feeding him some. Breakfast is a hodgepodge of leftovers because we climbed back in bed this morning, and I didn’t have time for anything else.
I guess we’re technically not making a baby yet. I just started my period, and I can’t get pregnant for the next several days, anyway. I can still go back on my pill.
“Well, that’s it,” Jake says, strolling into the kitchen and whipping off his gloves, tossing them and his keys onto the counter. “The roads are open.”
A bike speeds off outside, and I guess that’s Noah, not wasting any time to go see his friends.
I drop my eyes, though, my stomach sinking a little. I’d rather have more winter. I look at Kaleb, seeing him watch me, and right now, I’m half-tempted to drag him into the garage, pack up the snowmobiles, and run to the fishing cabin. The snow up there will last for another month. Another blissful month of quiet.
“Where’s that woman sleeping tonight?” Jake asks.
He turns to face us with his coffee in his hand.
Oh, that’s right. We can’t escape to the cabin anyway. Now that the roads are clear, Mirai can stay here at the house tonight.
“My room.” I climb off Kaleb and clear our empty plate. “Thank you for…welcoming her,” I tell Jake.
He looks down at me, his eyes hooded in aggravation. “I’d rather have a few more months of winter.”
And he leaves, disappearing into the shop.
Yeah.
I agree.
Scooping out a hefty serving of Swedish Fish, I dump them in the white paper bag and close the container.
I have Peach Rings, cinnamon bears, gourmet jellybeans, and Spencer is boxing up some chocolate-covered almond clusters for me now.
I glance out the window, seeing Kaleb across the street, loading some lumber into the truck bed. He’s going to try to his hand at carpentry by making us a headboard, and I’m going to paint it.
I wish he hadn’t insisted on coming to town with me. After what happened at the bar on my birthday, it’s only a matter of time before the police—or the Motocross guys—get a whiff of his presence in town.
Some giggles go off near me, and I look over the jar of Hot Tamales to see a couple of young women by the retro-candy collection glancing at me and whispering. They round the aisle, their eyes dropping down my clothes, and then they laugh to themselves before leaving again.
I look down at myself, puzzled. I’m not dressed weird.
Although I am wearing Noah’s muddy old riding boots, and my jeans are a little dirty from chores this morning.
After Jake cleared the roads, we decided to get dressed, get our individual jobs done, and get to town. Best to rip off the Band-Aid quickly and get used to being in the world again. We met up with Noah for cheeseburgers, stocked up on gas in case another storm comes in, and hit the grocery store, loading up on all the fresh produce.
Kaleb went to the hardware store, and I detoured for candy.
I stare at my clothes. I’m not so out of place. Maybe less manicured than I was in September, but…
I look down at my nails, seeing the dirt underneath, and the little cuts on my hands from all the labor I’ve been up to over the winter.
Okay, I’m not manicured at all anymore. I catch myself in the mirror on the back of a shelf, seeing the loose threads in my dark blue cable knit sweater that also has a black stain from lying too close to a fire. My hair desperately needs a trim, and I’m tan from being outside, my freckles popping like never before.
I haven’t worn make-up or straightened my hair in months. Mirai won’t recognize me.
I laugh and head to the register.
“My mom told me to bring home a girl like you someday,” someone says.
I look over, setting my bag on the counter as a young guy approaches me. Spencer weighs my bag, and I study the stranger. He looks vaguely familiar. One of Noah’s friends?
“You’re their cousin, right,” he asks, leaning on the glass candy case. “Noah and Kaleb Van der Berg’s?”
I nod, seeing Spencer hand me the candy again. “I’ll put it on your tab,” he says.
I smile. My tab. Cool.
Turning my attention back to the guy, I hold out my hand. “Tiernan, hey.”
He shakes it. “Kenneth.” He stares at my face. “Would you like to get some pizza?”
Oh. Uh… I open my mouth to refuse, but then someone is there, pulling my hand away out of Kenneth’s. I look up to see Kaleb glaring down at the him, the blond guy standing up straight and drawing in a breath like he knows to back off.
Kaleb threads his fingers through mine and leads me away from the handsome young man, out the door, and across the street.
“He’s just flirting,” I tease.
Kaleb’s eyebrow cocks, and his lips twist to the side.
“I know, right?” I joke. “It’s hard work, guarding a beauty like me.”
He snorts, and I smile as we stop at the truck.
“I gotcha some candy worms.” I dangle the bag in front of him, but he’s not the least bit interested. Taking my face in his hands, he steals a kiss instead, and I revel in his smooth chin, jaw, and cheek. I love to kiss him. Especially when he’s clean-shaven.
“Come on. We’re going to be late,” I tell him, reaching for the door handle.
He moves to open the door for me but stops, his eyes rising and looking over my shoulder, the color draining from his face.
I follow his gaze.
Cici Diggins strolls past us, her steps slowing and her eyes locked on Kaleb.
But my stare falls to her stomach. Her pregnant stomach.
My lungs empty. No.
I jerk my eyes to Kaleb, seeing his jaw flex and his chest rise and fall in shallow breaths. How far along is she? We’ve been away from town for six months.
Unless she’s carrying twins, she’s farther along than that, which would mean…
Is it Kaleb’s?
I can’t swallow. I can’t breathe.
I look over my shoulder again to see her saunter up to us. “Let me guess,” she says. “You’re going through the math in your head right now?”
She smirks, looking between us. “We’ll be in touch,” she whispers to Kaleb.
She walks away, and I blink, trying to keep the tears away. Please. I hold my stomach because it hurts. Not this.
“Kaleb?” I murmur.
She was pregnant before the snow. She was pregnant well before the snow.
But he says nothing, simply opening the truck door and ushering me inside quickly.
He slams the door, rounds the front of the vehicle, and climbs into the driver’s side, speeding off toward home. The lumber in the bed bangs against the tailgate, and the groceries spill in the backseat.
I hold the handlebar above the door, staring over at him. “Did you know she was pregnant?” I asked.
His knuckles turn white as he grips the steering wheel, and he won’t look at me.
“She’s been pregnant a while. Is it yours?”
Still, nothing. Did he know? He seemed surprised. But maybe that’s what she was upset about in the cave that day. She was pregnant, and he didn’t want her.
Anger curdles inside me, and I breathe hard. “Did you know?” I demand. “Did you know last fall?”
He punches the gas, taking us across the train tracks, toward the highway leading home.
If it’s his, Cici will be in our lives forever. She’ll have his first child, not me. I’ll never have that.
Won’t he say anything? Nod or shake his head? Why won’t he do anything? I know he can!
“Just let me out,” I choke out, the tears threatening. “Stop the truck.”
He keeps driving.
“Stop the truck!” I yell.
Finally, he looks at me, shaking his head.
“No?” I say. “No, what? Talk. I know you know how! Is the baby yours?”
Just communicate. Do something! But he keeps his mouth closed, and I’ve had enough.
Sliding over, I punch the brake, stalling the truck, and he swerves the wheel as it comes to a stop. I hop out, seeing him follow.
He stops me at the front of the car, coming in for me.
But I back away. “No,” I tell him. No kissing. No holding. “Speak. Right now. Is it yours? Did you know?”
He draws in quick, shallow breaths, staring at me, speechless. If he didn’t know, then he could shake his head, and I wouldn’t hate him. We could go from there.
If he knew, maybe he kept it quiet because he knew he’d be up on the mountain all winter, and maybe he didn’t anticipate we’d fall in love. Maybe he thought he could run from this like he runs from everything.
Just talk to me.
His beautiful green gaze falls to the space between us, and there’s nothing he wants to say to me.
The whir of an engine grows louder, and I know it’s Noah on his way home.
He pulls up next to us, planting his shoes on the ground. “Hey, what’s going on?”
I give Kaleb four more seconds, waiting for him to do or say anything.
When he doesn’t, I climb on the bike behind Noah and wrap my arms around him.
“Let’s go.” I bury my head in his back. “Hurry.”
We speed off, and for the first time, Kaleb doesn’t pull me back to him.
