The careful plan involved getting up at four a.m. and driving several hours before Hannah even began to stir, much less got stirred up from too long in the car.
The careful plan did not take into account first trimester queasiness and exhaustion.
They left, instead, a half hour before Thursday rush hour traffic, and made it to Mary Lynn’s new home in time for dinner. Goldberg fed everyone his signature cassoulet after Hannah ran through the house, insisting Mary Lynn explain every shelf and corner of every room. Some combination of chamomile tea, stress, tiredness, and relief that she could leave her daughter in loving, capable hands worked to put her to sleep hours earlier than usual.
Mary Lynn woke her at dawn with breakfast and all of her to-go containers full of kid-friendly snacks. “I had her on the potty before I packed all this up so she’s back in a deep enough sleep now. Are you sure you’re okay to go all that way? Because you can spend the vacation days here, you know. We’ll go see miniature horses and play at the lake and Goldberg will make every meal.”
She groaned. “Too tempting. I’m not sure my parents would forgive me, though. And thanks to you tiring her out last night, we’ll be almost to Abilene before she even stirs, I bet. Plainview’s barely a hop from there.”
All true in theory, for anyone willing to call three hours of driving a hop. But a thermos of ginger tea and a box of crackers weren’t enough to keep her stomach happy. She had to pull over twice, and the second stop roused Hannah. It was past lunchtime before they got to Abilene, and they both had frayed nerves as she navigated to a mall with an indoor play place.
Legs stretched, bladders emptied, stomachs full, she checked Hannah in to a world of kid-sized jungle animals and fake rock tunnels. While her girl clambered up a zebra, Rachel settled herself on a bench to just be still for a little while. She sent an updated ETA to Aunt Johnston and a reassuring message to her friends before texting Theo.
He phoned immediately.
“Hey.”
“How are you? How’s the road?”
She smiled at the affection she could hear in his voice despite the mild chaos of the mall kids. “It’s slower going than I hoped, but we’re getting through it. Had some close calls on meltdowns earlier, but she’s tiring herself out now, so the rest of today should be fine.”
“If you need to take an extra day, I can help with a hotel fee.”
She didn’t even bristle at the offer. Another day of driving with a toddler might force her to contemplate why Theo getting solicitous didn’t raise her hackles anymore. “Thanks, but we’ll be fine. It shouldn’t be much over seven hours tomorrow, but if I’m feeling rotten we’ll stay an extra night with Aunt before we tackle it.”
“And the car’s okay?” He had a paranoia about her car, born solely from knowing she’d planned on replacing it before she found out about the baby. He’d even tried to convince her to take his for this road trip, as if he wasn’t going to be driving his own child all over the state before she and Hannah made it to Colorado Springs and back.
“It’s fine. I promise. Anyway, tell me if you’ve made any decisions yet.”
The echoing space she sat in was so ill suited to understanding the nuances of his pause. After he and the lawyer met, he had plans that covered everything from running Elixir on his own to bringing in a new partner to closing entirely. None of them was ideal. None of them guaranteed him success. None of them guaranteed Sergei a job, for that matter, but she reminded him of the man’s habit of job-hopping in order to avoid the Attorney General. Keeping her ex employed shouldn’t be any kind of factor in his plans.
Even if he discounted her, she made a point of stressing that fact.
“Sorry, I had to shut the door. After lunch I’m going to talk with Marti. Her brother interviewed with Ron a few months ago, but he was too qualified for what we needed. I don’t know if he’s still available, or if what I need now is too big a stretch for him, or—hell.” He sighed. “There are a lot of variables. But at least I came up with one plan that might salvage Elixir. So. That’s the goal.”
Hannah sent herself tumbling down the back of an alligator. She popped up and checked to see if Rachel had been watching. Seeing her mama smile, she set about repeating her actions. “That’s a good goal.”
“You think so?” He sounded anxious, and her free hand rubbed at her clavicle. Impossible to give him the assurance he craved, because way too much of the situation was out of either of their control.
One thing, though, she could say. “I do, if it’s a goal that fulfills you. Elixir is a great place; you’ve made something special with it. I don’t know if I ever told you that. I know it’s a ton of work, but you’ve created community and a great atmosphere.”
He was silent again, or maybe drowned out by the arrival of a crowd of elementary age kids. She stood to keep Hannah in her line of sight.
“Thanks, that’s really good to hear.”
“I may be biased by the great desserts, especially now I can’t drink beer for months.”
“Buttering me up again?”
“Ha. You’ve been pretty clear I don’t have to go out of my way to cater to your moods.” As she bantered right back at him, her casual words went straight to her bedrock. They were true. Theo wasn’t going to hold his goodness hostage if she failed to meet his expectations. He didn’t insist she only deserved his best if she lived up to whatever shifting standard he felt like imposing. And he’d never blame her for his own problems. Even now that a significant part of his burden was directly related to her.
He could so easily have said, “I’ve got too much going on to deal with a baby. It’s not reasonable to do anything but terminate the pregnancy. And if you insist on having it, you’re on your own.”
Instead, even as his business was in crisis and even though they were still so new to each other, he’d said he was all in. He’d pledged to stick by her and the baby.
He’d said he loved her.
She interrupted his jokes about catering. “It’s not just you.”
“I—what’s not just me?”
“All in. It’s not just you who’s all in, Theo.”
His smiling voice warmed her. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I mean, we have to talk a lot through, and you’re busy, and I’m almost a whole state away from you, but ... yeah. It’s not just you.”
“Okay. Because you know I don’t only mean it, that I’m all in, as the baby’s father, right? I’m talking about us. Our relationship.”
Her heartbeat raced the baby’s. She managed to ask, “Are you sure? It’s okay if you need more time. It’s a lot.”
“You were always a package deal, Rachel. You and Hannah. It doesn’t scare me off now that the package is bigger than I’d bargained for.”
She laughed. “You’re joking about my size already?”
“No. Don’t turn my beautiful analogy into a bad joke.” He was laughing, too.
“Sorry. I knew what you meant. Tension. I didn’t come into this mall expecting to end up bowled over by emotion. You tend to steal my breath, Theo.”
“Serious?”
She hoped he could hear her own happy sincerity. “Serious.”
Hannah loved Aunt Johnston’s porch swing. Over and over that evening, Rachel had to push them off and add a little side-to-side wiggle so it jostled them in unpredictable paths.
Rachel’s laughter died as soon as the man stepped from his truck at the curb. Hannah climbed down to try to push the swing herself, but all Rachel could do was watch Brent Berg mount the porch steps.
“Hey there, Rach. Your aunt told me you’d be by tonight. This your baby girl?”
She stood and picked up her daughter.
“Mrs. Johnston told me all about what a cutie she is. So like her mom, huh? Going to be a real heartbreaker someday.” He smirked. She remembered that smirk. She once thought that smirk meant inside jokes. Private confidences that proved she was special. “So, you know I’m still looking for someone for that job. Mr. Steichen says you’ll be perfect. Why don’t you go ahead and apply?”
“No.” She’d refused once via email; she could do it again in person.
“Come on, Rach, you’d be doing me a real solid.”
She flinched. And caught herself on the recoil as his ‘I’m so confident I deserve your compliance’ voice opened a backlash of memory. Doing Brent a solid, back when she was fifteen, meant staying up late baking, so he could strut through game day showing off how her cupcakes were tastier than the other team girlfriends’.
She’d been doing him a solid the first time he’d guided her to jerk him off, two minutes, he promised, faster if he could see her tits, and he would fail his bio test if he was obsessing over how horny she made him.
Doing Brent a solid meant going to his buddy’s pool party, playing along when they snickered that they couldn’t find a towel for her wet body, letting him perch her on his lap and murmur in her ear that he needed her ass to hide his hard-on from the other guys.
She’d been doing Brent a solid that afternoon she sucked him off in the school parking lot, with his fist in her hair keeping her in place for his thrusts and also keeping her from looking around to see the observers he later claimed he didn’t hear approaching.
“No.”
“At least let me tell you more about it. You in town for a bit? Come out for a tour. Or leave the baby here and come get a drink with me now.”
She settled the solid weight of Hannah against her chest. “No.”
She wouldn’t elaborate. She didn’t owe it to him. He’d taken all her favors, and then some, and Rachel was learning she wasn’t that person anymore. The one pleased when someone needed her. The one ignoring her inner voice to yield to the voices around her. The one unsure she was worth it.
She cut off whatever Brent was saying. “No.”
He leaned back on his heels, at last silent. “Message received, Rachel. Damn. No need to be a bitch about it.”
Her hand belatedly covered Hannah’s ear, and Brent had the iota of decency it took to look ashamed. Not that he offered so much as a quiet “sorry” as he turned and left. Not that she needed his apology to feel better.
She felt great. She’d stuck up for herself, and she wasn’t even shaking from the adrenaline rush.
“Cricket? Was that Brent Berg just leaving?” Aunt Johnston pushed open the screen door so they could head inside. She set out a plate of crackers and cheese for Hannah.
“Yes, and good riddance. I can’t have you talking to him about me, Aunt. There’s too much wrong to get into, but he isn’t someone I can work for, okay?”
“Well I knew that already. You told me once. I didn’t ask him to pester you about it.”
“Hmm.”
“I did not, so don’t take that tone, love bug. I know well you don’t want to be moving back here.”
“Oh, Aunt. It’s not because I wouldn’t want to live with you again. Listen, he was aggressive with me in high school, and he thinks he can get me to do what he wants again now. I’m not the insecure girl who has to prove she’s worth loving now, you know?”
Aunt Johnston gave the best hugs.
Rachel wanted to confide in her, but it was a lot of story and she needed to turn in early for their next long day of driving. And she’d got it in her head that telling her parents and sister about the baby first would bridge some of the space that stretched between them.
As she settled in for the night, leaving Aunt Johnston to take care of all of Hannah’s bedtime tasks, she sent heart and bed and sleep emojis to Theo. He was a man who wouldn’t demand anything from her as proof that she cared. His solidity didn’t depend on Rachel propping him up in any way. It was a part of him, like his kindness and his intuitive nature and his sexy playfulness and his love.
She hadn’t expected his love. And now, the clash with Brent fucking Berg fresh in her mind, she wondered if that was because for so long in her life, love with men was transactional. She had to earn it, or thought she did. With sex, sure, but also by going along with their plans and setting aside her needs and accepting the blame for anything they decided was wrong. With the likes of Brent and Sergei, she always knew the score and how close she was to losing what they thought—what she thought—was love.
Theo, though. His love just was. He gave it to her, and didn’t demand a word in return. Or a deed, or a thought, or an action, or a promise. It was hers, unconditionally.
And if she had the right to it without working to earn it.... If that’s how real love worked, she needed a serious think about what her own heart was up to.
His cousin texted him: So you and Rachel are a serious thing?
Theo: Where’s that question come from?
Tomás: Your son.
Oh, Demeter’s ruffled horsefeathers. He phoned. “What did he say?”
“You can’t wait ten minutes until you get here and ask me in person?”
“Do I sound a ton like you should be messing with me?” Which wasn’t the most graceful way to say thanks for taking Andres for a few hours while he dealt with the company, but Tomás was good at reading between the lines.
“You will be here in ten?”
“Yeah, I’m on my way. Is Andres okay?”
“This little monster? He’s got venomous claws that can freeze his victims in their tracks, did you know that?”
“Of course. He inherited them from me.”
“Huh, that explains it. Hey, kiddo, go ask Tío Enrique to chop up some mango. Warn him your dad’s on the way so he’d better go light on the Tajín.”
“Hey.”
“Calling it like I know it, primo.” Tomás must have held the phone towards the kitchen, because Andres’s giggling echoed down the line.
“Seriously, what did he say?”
“That Daddy is dating Hannah’s mommy.”
“He didn’t mention anything else?”
His cousin was also good at picking up on potential gossip. “Anything like what?”
Theo did not want to have this conversation while stuck behind a tow truck. He’d told Andres about his relationship before Rachel joined them for dinner, but didn’t intend to mention the baby until he knew much more about where he and Rachel were headed. Which didn’t mean his son hadn’t overheard something. “Anything like anything. Like he might be trying to process some big news and isn’t sure what it is. For example.”
“What big news?”
“Listen, I’m trying to find out what he knows, okay, so I can sit him down if I need to.”
“Theo, what big news do you have that might warrant a sit-down?”
“It’s—I’m not talking about anything specific.”
“Bullshit.”
“Hey.” He clutched the steering wheel.
“It’s fine, he’s in with my dad. I’ll go outside. Will that make you happy?”
He’d be pulling onto his uncle’s street in a couple of minutes, but giving the news without being face to face appealed to him. “You can’t tell anyone.”
“Híjole! Y’all elope or something?”
“Jesus. No. She’s ... we’re going to have a baby.”
Tomás went quiet. Theo signaled his turn and waited for the cross traffic to clear, listening intently for any kind of response. Nothing. Not a peep.
He cut the call and coasted to a stop at Enrique’s curb. When he got out of the car, his cousin was standing in the carport, arms wide. Theo jogged straight at him and let himself be caught up in a massive hug. Tomás gripped his head and planted a kiss on each cheek. “Wow. Are you happy? You’re happy. Look at you. Wow. And Rachel? I can see it, man. I really can. She’s great. Congratulations, baby.”
Theo’s heart thudded. He hadn’t celebrated at all. He and Rachel, they hadn’t celebrated. Maybe she had with her friends or family, but the two of them had gone straight into negotiation and coordination and management of various crises. Even her veiled declaration of the day before was wrapped in layers of logistics.
Tomás’s effusive reaction unleashed a reservoir of emotion within him. Because awkward timing and uncertain future aside, the reality was, he got to have another baby. A new tiny person, to hold and marvel at and adore in all the stages and all the days of its life.
His to love and treasure every day.
Theo dropped his head to his cousin’s shoulder. Tomás hugged him tight while he let himself whoop out a laughing cry.