I grab the hem of his shirt as the desperation rolls off him. I need to make him see how far he’s come already, and that he’s well on his way to overcoming the demons that plague him. “Listen to me, Tyke. You are a strong man. You can beat this. You have to find the will. You have to find something that’s worth fighting for.”
A tear slips down his cheek, and my heart breaks. The moment he reaches up to swipe it away, I grab his wrist and wipe it away for him with my free hand. “Don’t be afraid to cry with me. God knows you’ve seen me do it enough. Let me be the person who’s there for you, like you’ve been there for me.”
“I don’t want to be weak, because if I am, how am I ever going to be strong enough for you? I want to be the rock you lean on,” he whispers.
I stare into his eyes as I stroke his face. “We’ll be each other’s rock.”
With that, I kiss his lips, quieting his fear that he’s not man enough for me. His mouth works in time with mine as his body begins to relax against me. This is helping take his mind off the anxiety he’s feeling, but I can tell we’ve got a long way to go before he has a firm handle on his addiction. Being able to divert his need to use will be huge for him—once he figures out healthy ways to deal with issues that stress him.
For the time being, I know telling him that I’m pregnant won’t be good for him. He’s got enough stress, worrying about the band’s new album, without me springing the news on him that I’m having his baby. I’ll tell him, when the time is right.
When I’m sure that he can handle the news without relapsing.
The cell on my desk rings just as I’m finishing up my notes from Arnold’s session. Mother’s name flashes across the screen, and I sigh while I answer. “Hello, Mother.”
“Francine, darling. It’s so good to hear your voice,” she replies and I stiffen, recognizing this tone as the one she uses when she’s trying to butter me up.
“What is it now, Mother?” I ask, snapping the laptop closed.
“Is it a crime for a mother to simply call her daughter and be nice?”
I roll my eyes, because for her, yes, it is. “I know there’s something you want or else you wouldn’t be calling.”
“Oh, all right,” she huffs. “There is something I want, but I would also like to see you. I miss you, darling.”
I raise my eyebrows. That’s the first time she’s wanted to spend time with me in a long while.
“I’m going out of town next weekend, and I’m asking you to please watch Spencer and Ruby for me. Last time I had to leave them with Nickolas, and the poor dears were shaking little messes when I returned. I don’t want to inflict any additional trauma on them. Will you please do this for me?”
Poor Nickolas, my parents’ private chef, hates those two damn dogs almost as much as I do. I bet he was fuming that he got stuck being their caregiver when I refused my mother’s request last time. Mother’s lucky that Ruby and Spencer weren’t poisoned by the time she returned.
“Oh please, Frannie.” My mother’s plea sounds genuine, and while I’m not completely thrilled about the idea of dog sitting the two little mongrels, I do like that she’s actually sounding sincere this time.
Besides, a little distance between Tyke and me might be a good thing. A little time for me to get away from this place and reflect on my situation, and how I’m going to break the news to him, might be beneficial.
“I’ll do it,” I tell her. “I’ll take the train first thing Friday morning and be there by dinner.”
“Oh, thank you.” The relief in her voice comes through crystal clear. “I can’t wait to see you, dear. It’s been too long since I’ve seen my girl.”
Her last sentence chokes me up. I remember a time when she would have ended that same line in the plural because she would be referring to both Annie and I. It was nice back then. When we felt almost like a family, versus this discombobulated mess we are now.
“I’ll see you soon,” I tell her before I end our call.
I stare down at my hand, resting protectively over my stomach, and wonder if it will be as easy for me to pretend this baby didn’t exist when I give it away to some family who is ready for a child. Handling the loss of my sister has been devastating, and I just don’t know how I’m going to handle carrying a child that I’m eventually going to give away.
I wrap my arms around my torso and inhale deeply. Tyke’s scent lingers on my skin and clothes. It was harder than expected to tell him goodbye this morning, but it’s something I’m going to have to deal with very soon.
The train pulls into the station, and I quickly gather my bag. That’s the thing about quick trips back home—packing is very light.
I make my way to the front of the station, smiling when I find our driver, Ricardo, wearing his signature black suit and white gloves as he waits by my family’s black Lincoln Town Car. “Ricardo, it’s so nice to see you. How are the little ones?”
He takes my bag from me and opens the back door. “They’re excellent, Ms. Mead. The little one just had his fourth birthday last weekend.”
“Four?” I say as I climb into the backseat. “I can’t believe he’s that old already.”
“Time flies when it comes to children. My oldest will be fourteen this year,” he says with a proud smile that accentuates his white teeth against his dark complexion. “Having children is the most rewarding thing in the world.”