I was doing just fine until Sam decided to touch me. He just had to go and break me by pulling me to him. “We might talk if you get this stinky trash out of here.”
Sam kissed me, finishing me off. I was spent. I would have followed him anywhere at that given moment. Anywhere.
“Let’s take the boat out and watch the sunset, okay?” Sam asked, pulling away. I didn’t want him to do that, I was rather enjoying that kiss and my pussy wanted kissed, too. The rest of it was in slow motion. Like an outer body experience. I knew it was me watching, but it was surreal, unbelievable.
Sam picked up the trash and the bottom ripped right out of it. I was fine getting him a new bag, it wasn’t that part that was so implausible. I froze when Sam picked up the test strips, and then the little record book that came with the fertility monitor. He looked at me puzzled, and then flipped the pages, glancing through our readings, right to the big heart I had drawn that said my baby girl.
“Did you lie to me?” he asked, looking at all the incriminating evidence.
“No,” I replied. I didn’t know what else to say.
“Was this all just a bunch of shit? You made up the whole thing. There never was some off the wall procedure, was there, Kendra. You faked this whole thing so I would get you pregnant.”
“What? No, Sam. It’s not like that. I did have it done, but it’s over now. It only lasts five to seven years. I can carry a baby.”
“You need, fucking help. You set me up,” Sam accused through a tight jaw.
“No, it wasn’t like that, Sam. I swear. I wasn’t trying to get pregnant.”
“Then explain this. Explain all of this, Kendra,” Sam retorted.
“Sam, I know what this must look like. But, I swear to god, I’m not lying.”
“Then who was this for? All of this?”
“It was for Olivia.”
Sam snorted and shook his head. “She needs to do this while her fiancé is away for a year. A little early planning, wouldn’t you say?”
“Sam. Please,” I begged throwing myself at him.
He jerked my arm away from touching him and looked at me with the most hate I had ever seen in his eyes. How could I get him to see this wasn’t what it looked like? There wasn’t a way.
“Stay away from me. Go back to your dweeb of a husband and your money where you belong. If I find out you’re carrying my child, I’ll take it from you. You won’t come near any of my children. I’ll make sure of that, so help me god. If you even think you could be pregnant with my kid. Get rid of it. You’ll never raise it. I promise you that.”
“Sam, she’s telling the truth. This was all for me,” Olivia tried next from the door. Sam turned and looked at her with just as much vengeance.
“You’re as sick as she is. You both need your heads examined. Stay away from me.”
And just like that. He was gone. Sam walked out of my life—again. This time was the last. He was furious, but there was no way for me to get him to believe me. He would never think it was all for Olivia with me being the one pregnant. And even if he did believe it, trying to get Olivia impregnated with his sperm didn’t sound any better than me.
“Well, I wanted him out of my life, there you have it,” I said looking to the curtain, flowing in the opened door. Sam was gone. For good this time.
“Give him time to cool off. He’s just mad.”
“With good reason. There’s no explaining away evidence that’s right in front of your face. If I tell him I’m pregnant now, he’s going to think I set him up, and lied to him about Dr. Delgado.”
“He already thinks that,” Olivia admitted, pouring more salt on the open wound.
I just went from falling right back in to Sam’s arms to him hating me in two point seven seconds. What the hell just happened here?
Within a few days, I was fine. I was over Sam and continued on my list of aspirations. That’s what I told myself on an hourly basis. I was fine. Paris was easy to find, too easy. She was one of those people that posted what she had for breakfast, her new sunglasses, her girly drink at a restaurant, and a whole slew of college photos. Paris was quite the little party girl. She looked more and more like Adriana the older she got. I hadn’t looked at her profile in at least five years. I think she was still in high school when I friended her as Jenny Black.
My mind stayed occupied on other things, as many things as I could shove inside it to keep Sam out of it. It worked for the most part. Alone at night is when it was the worst. Some nights I held my stuffed mouse and cried for him, and other times I brought myself to an orgasm, visualizing his face between my legs. Sometimes I held the moon necklace in my hand and told myself it had power. If I was happy, I would be happier.
Olivia was my rock. That one, I would have never guessed. Had it not been for her, I wouldn’t have done half the things I set out to do. She wouldn’t let me say forget it. We followed through with every last thing I told her. Right down to my mother paying up.
Judge fucking Davis didn’t even have the nerve to call me, text me, or email me, Nothing. I learned about the first three million dollar deposit from her by an alert on my phone from my bank account. Olivia and I opened it especially for her. She could put money in, but she sure as hell wouldn’t be taking it out.
“Send her a thank you,” Olivia urged.
“No! Screw her.”
“Kendra, do it. It’s all part of the plan, remember? We’re doing what we set out to do.”
I sent the text message, ‘Thank you for my money, I’ll be expecting more.’ She didn’t respond, but Olivia did show me where her six million dollar condo was for sale on Park Avenue. I almost felt bad that she would have to commute now to go to work. No. Not really. Not at all. I hoped she had to walk. I knew she would never be broke, but she wouldn’t live the way she had gotten used to, not with my money.
Olivia stayed on top of things. She knew exactly what was going on by following the news, reading articles on her tablet, and searching my mother’s name. With it being election year, there was new news every day. My noble mother was now into charity work. Olivia joked about people being so stupid, and how if they would do their research when voting this country wouldn’t be in the shape that it was in. It seems my mother was into charity every four years. As soon as she won the election, her mission to save the world came to a halt and she never followed through.
This year’s endeavor was, shutting down a homeless shelter that had opened up in an upper-class part of town. She would help in finding a new location. Those kind of people shouldn’t be there. It wasn’t good for the businesses.
Olivia drove my new Ford Edge, and we set out on our next adventure, finding Paris. We knew where she was, and could have flown to Purdue, but believe it or not, I sort of liked driving. At that point in time, I didn’t know anyone else I would rather spend my time with than Olivia. Who would have thought? She didn’t mind the drive, either. Olivia hated flying.
“What do you think about a small town in Tennessee?” I asked Olivia, looking at real estate on my phone while she drove us to our destination.
“I think it’s crazy. Stay at the beach. You love it there.”
“No, Sam has family there. He’ll come back next year.”
“So, buy a house on another beach where Sam isn’t. You hate the snow in Connecticut,” Olivia reminded me, and I swiped my finger more west then south. “This town looks nice. Port Pemba, Florida.”
“Never heard of it. Where is it?”
“Close to St. Petersburg. Look at this Victorian house. It’s surrounded by other homes and lots of little shops.”
“Sounds like a tourist trap.”
“What’s wrong with that? I love to watch people. Who knows, maybe that’s where my next Sam is,” I teased. “Look they do all sorts of community things, and look at this elementary school. That’s the kind of place I want to raise my little girl.”
“You keep saying girl, but it could very well be a boy, you know.”
/> “No it couldn’t. I wouldn’t know what to do with a boy. I’m sticking with the girl. Let’s go there after we go see Paris.”
“I’m game. I have ten months before I’ll see Jackson. As long as you’re paying the bill, I’ll drive you all over the United Sates.”
After tuning the satellite radio to Sam’s favorite classic rock, I researched the small town a little more. There were three Victorian houses for sale around the same area. I wanted a nice size yard for my baby girl to play in, but nothing where I was out by myself. I liked the location of all three of these homes. Especially the one, two blocks from the little school. My fascination with this little town froze when I heard the next song start. The screen in the center of the dash told me the Eagles were singing the song Sam had sang to me once while we were making sandwiches at three in the morning. He had asked me something about my family and I told him I didn’t know.
He started singing these exact same words about me not being able to hide my lying eyes. Listening to it now had new meaning. Sam thought I was nothing but a liar and I couldn’t blame him. I was sort of even hoping this baby belonged to Garrison. At least it would be smart, and I’m sure she would be just as cute as Savannah, maybe she would even get my blond hair.
Olivia and I took our time getting to Indiana, staying in a hotel three nights before arriving in the college town. Of course, we had to get the same room. I looked forward to our sharing. Olivia complained about it every time, but she never said no. We watched each other, until we both released at the same time, and then went on as it was no big deal, the normal thing to do.
School hadn’t started yet, but we knew from Paris’s Facebook page that she was working in a bookstore there on campus. There was still so many questions unanswered, like who took her? Who raised her? How was she raised? Did she have a better life than she would have? Would she even remember me?
My nerves permeated my skin the closer we got and the walk to the bookstore was even worse. I knew she was there. She posted that morning, ‘Work today, and then movies with Tara.’ Olivia gave me the pep talk, refusing to let me turn around and change my mind. She walked to the counter and ordered us both cappuccinos. I waited at the first booth, ducking in and looking around with a big picture book of Sailboats. I didn’t see her anywhere and then we both stared dead head at each other, neither of us able to move.
“What’s wrong?” a young man asked her, coming from the back with her.
“Can you take these?” she asked, handing over the three stacks of cups.
“Hi,” I said, standing as she neared. She knew me. She knew exactly who I was.
“What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to talk to you. Do you have time? I could come back later if you want.”
“I have a few minutes. You look nice.”
“Thank you. I’m carrying my first baby. You look nice, too,” I said, refraining from telling her how much she looked like her mother.
“Congratulations.” Paris smiled. And then we shared an awkward silence. I looked up to Olivia, flipping through a magazine from across the room. She smiled and nodded in reassurance.
“I have your money,” I said, using the Kendra way of breaking news.
“My money?” she questioned.
“Money from our father.”
“What do you mean? How? I was told there was no money. It paid for Dad’s care all those years in the nursing home.”
“I’m sure that put a big dent in it, but you have money. You’ve always had it. I just had to weed out the crooked people to get it.”
“Like how much money?”
I explained the whole situation to Paris, how my mother was the one who swindled us both out of it, and how her power as a federal judge helped her. I explained how I got it back, and also, what I had planned to do with what she spent, minus her share of course. Paris wanted me to use her share of what my mother spent to help with my cause. She was more than happy with the forty eight million I would split down the middle with her.
“Where did you go? Who raised you?” I asked once we’d talked about the money for twenty minutes. She had to go tell her boss she was going to be off the clock until I left. Once her boss found out that she hadn’t seen me since she was six, he told her to take her time.
“Aunt Rachel raised me, well, not my aunt, yours, but I always called her Aunt Rachel.”
My heart literally stopped beating and my lungs refused to work. “My mother’s sister raised you? Why? I don’t understand.” That wasn’t even close to what I was thinking. I thought someone on her mother’s side raised her, but thinking about it made sense. Dr. Delgado would have been her own family, but I know they had other people. I remembered Adriana leaving a few times to visit family, or that’s what she said, anyway.
“Your mom arranged it. Aunt Rachel wouldn’t take you, because she knew you were so much trouble.”
“I wasn’t any trouble,” I sadly replied, looking down at my hands.
“I know you weren’t. I thought about you a lot. I had a good life with Aunt Rachel, and I always hoped you did, too.”
“You did?”
“I was just a little kid, Kendra. I’m sorry I did those things to you. I just did what I was taught. My mother had us believing you were no better than a dog and we had to treat you like one. I’m sorry, Kendra. Even then I knew it was wrong.”
“I’m not mad at you for it. It’s not your fault. I just can’t believe you were raised with my Aunt Rachel. She never came to my graduation, not high school or college. I have a law degree, you know?” I added for whatever reason. I wasn’t trying to boast at all. It was more of a nervous, shut your mouth, kind of confession.
“That’s awesome. Where do you practice?”
I snorted. “I didn’t practice. I married the mold.”
Paris hissed. “Oh, I broke that fucker,” she said, quickly covering her mouth. “Sorry,” she added.
“Don’t worry about it. You’re old enough to say fuck, and I recently broke it, too. It took a good many years and someone that showed me what it feels like to finally let go and live, but it feels good now. I’m going to be just fine.”
“That makes me happy. Is your husband a lawyer, too?”
Blowing out a puff of air, I explained in my Kendra way, that my husband was gay, I had a summer affair, I was pregnant with someone’s baby, and I was moving to a small town in Florida. I left out the part about the attempt to impregnate Olivia with Sam’s sperm. The rest of it sounded bad enough. By the time I had finished spilling my guts with her splashing a question here and there, we had talked for an hour and ten minutes.
“Fuck!” Paris exclaimed. I sort of snickered.
“Hey, at least one of us turned out okay,” I teased.
“I don’t blame you, Kendra,” Paris said, looking down. Her tone was serious, and more somber than the lightheartedness just moments before. She folded and unfolded a straw paper, waiting for me to respond.
I looked at her black shiny hair and asked. “Blame me for what, Paris?”
“I remember it like it was yesterday. I don’t blame you for grabbing the wheel. That’s why I never told anyone.”
I had a law degree, I knew when to stop. I smiled, and moved on. I wasn’t admitting to anything. “I’m glad you had a good life.”
“I don’t know that I would have had things not happened this way. I would probably be shopping for a husband right about now,” she teased.
That’s when the amazing idea hit me. Shopping for a husband. And just like that, the decision was made. I was going to find my own Sam.
I knew as well as Paris knew, we weren’t going to be strangers after that. We would probably never be close by any means. I would send her a birthday card, she would probably buy the baby something, and we may even talk on the phone a time or two, but there was no need for anything more. We couldn’t even hug when we parted without it feeling wrong. I was happy to give her what was hers, and she was happy that I
was finally happy and free. That was all either of us needed.
Just like my whimsical idea to shop for a husband, one that would be a good daddy, lover and family man like Sam, I did the same thing with the Victorian house. The very first one.
“I’ll take it,” I announced, before I ever saw the upstairs. The town itself was enough to make me want to stay. I loved it and it had the same feel that Sam’s small ghost town had, only it wasn’t a ghost town at all. All the little shops looked like they were thriving. I could walk out to my mailbox and watch my little girl walk home from school with her friends. The back yard was a child’s dream come true.
I would have to have the boy-painted fort remodeled for a pink princess house, and maybe I would even match it with the doghouse, and let her have a puppy eventually. We’d see.
“Don’t you want to see the rest of the house?” Olivia asked. “Stop making decisions in two minutes. You have time.”
“No I don’t. I have less than eight months. I love this house.”
“She has two more to show you,” Olivia protested.
“I like this one. Did you see that kid’s bookstore up there on the corner?” I asked, refusing to hear logic. I loved this house, and I could be on the beach after a twenty minute walk. I could see me and my little girl doing just that.
“I give up. You’re a hopeless case. Oh my god, look at this library,” Olivia exclaimed. I think that room changed her mind. The bookshelves went from the ceiling to the floor and there were four big, comfy reading chairs. It wasn’t some stuffy office like my ancestors. This was a family room.
I listed the beach house the following day, and planned my move, and for the first time ever, I felt like things were going to be okay. I was going to be fine, and I would find this little girl the best daddy in the world. She deserved it, and so did I. Olivia of course didn’t think it was such a good idea.
“You can’t shop for a husband,” she protested, packing up the dishes in the kitchen.