Merrily Ever After--A Novella Page 8

  “It turns out that the Internet does this thing where it compares fetal size to food. It’s bizarre. Apparently, we’re currently at kidney bean. But I don’t like that idea. I mean, a kidney bean is basically mush. Mealy mush with a casing. But a LEGO brick—that’s solid.”

  Cam picked up the LEGO. “This is hot pink. Does that mean you’re having a girl?”

  “No. It’s way too early to know that.” Listen to him, talking like he knew anything about pregnancy. Like he thought a morning spent cruising the Internet learning about ultrasounds and genetic testing and the World Health Organization assessments of all the hospitals in the region conferred any kind of authority on him.

  Like he hadn’t then gone to the goddamned toy store for…reasons he couldn’t articulate. Well, to get the kidney bean a present, he supposed, but he could barely even admit that to himself. As he’d been drifting around, he’d wandered into the LEGO section. He’d built a few LEGO sets back in the day—by himself and with Cameron. Those were…good memories. Sometimes the bad memories from those days loomed so large, he forgot there were also good ones in there, too.

  And then, standing there looking at a LEGO Death Star, he’d suddenly thought, There has got to be a LEGO piece that’s roughly the same size as a goddamn kidney bean.

  “Does it mean you want a girl?” Cameron was still holding the LEGO.

  “Nah. It’s just random.” Because it was, wasn’t it? It wasn’t like he had even thought that far ahead.

  Had he?

  “It was just the closest-size piece in the set I bought,” he said firmly.

  That felt…a little like a lie, though.

  The pink piece was from a set called Mia’s Camper Van, which was in turn part of a product line called LEGO Friends that seemed to be targeted at girls. He had no doubt that was the kind of thing his wife and her friends would call bullshit on. Girls didn’t need separate LEGO kits, blah, blah. Girls liked Death Stars, too. He did not disagree.

  It was just that the set…kind of reminded him of the trailer he and Cam had grown up in.

  Except not. Because Mia’s trailer was happy and pink and cheerful. Mia came with friends and walkie-talkies. Mia came with a motherfucking pony.

  He had not been able to resist.

  Mia.

  He was still scared, but so much less so than he’d been this morning. Mere hours ago. It was crazy.

  But he was not about to tell Cam any of this. He’d had enough bro-sharing for the day. So he quickly said what he still needed to say. “Thanks for, uh, kicking my ass yesterday.”

  “No problem. God knows you kicked mine enough back in the day.” His brother smiled. Not a teasing grin, just a regular smile. “That’s how I know you’re going to be good at this, you know. You basically raised me, along with Mom. And I turned out okay.” The smile did then become a teasing grin. “Eventually.”

  Jay’s throat was tightening again. Jesus. Enough. “So, it’s still early days of the pregnancy. We’re going to keep this to ourselves for now.” After their emotional morning, Elise had had to get a move on so she wouldn’t be late for her meeting. So they hadn’t really talked about anything beyond what they’d said last night, but she had asked him to keep things on the down low. “Of course, Wendy and Noah know, and Gia, but we’re keeping it between us for now, okay? We’ll tell Mom when we…know things are going to be okay.”

  Please let things be okay.

  Some of his googling this morning had been over the link between endometriosis and miscarriage that Elise had mentioned. And if he wasn’t already scared enough to have a baby, he was now, somehow, simultaneously scared of losing a baby.

  Cam nodded. “Got it.” And he must have not had enough of the stupid bro-sharing because he said softly, “This is going to be great. You’re going to be great.”

  Chapter Nine

  Elise had told Jay to get to the office party that evening right at the beginning—as partner, he should be there to greet his employees—but not to come any earlier than that. He would only get in her way, she’d said.

  Elise didn’t like having anyone—even him—underfoot when she was going full force on a project. She would get into a zone. Become single-minded.

  Her friends teased her about it. Called her a perfectionist. A bridezilla—and yes, she had gone a little over the top in terms of wedding prep. And Jay teased her, too, sometimes. Messed up her makeup and stuff. But that was only because he wanted her to know that she was perfect even when she was imperfect. But really, as far as he was concerned, Elise was a woman who knew what she wanted. She had a vision and didn’t waver from it. He didn’t see anything wrong with that.

  Not only did he not see anything wrong with that, but he respected the hell out of it. He fucking loved it, actually. It made him hot.

  And right now, he wanted to watch it. He needed to, because they still weren’t quite back on their normal footing.

  He slipped into the hotel ballroom where the party was happening. Patricia and some other staffers were setting up a gift table just inside the door. They were giving everyone bags with gift cards and the calculator cookies Elise had sourced—which, he had to admit, were pretty damn cute. He waved at them but kept moving, his eyes on Elise, who was across the room doing something with garlands.

  She was standing on a stepladder. She was only a foot off the ground, but something rose inside him, a fierce protectiveness mixed with…something else. He was definitely protective of Elise, in general, so the fact that he was worrying about her on a ladder wasn’t, in and of itself, unusual.

  When he’d spoken to Cameron about Elise’s pregnancy, he’d confessed his fear that becoming a dad would somehow awaken the anger he knew lived inside him. That the rage he sometimes felt flashes of—at Elise’s father, for example—might end up directed at his own kid. That he would, despite his efforts to the contrary, repeat the cycle he’d grown up in.

  This was not that. This was a new emotion. Or at least a stronger version of a previous emotion. Like the old version on steroids.

  It was a desperate, savage love.

  He reached into his pocket and squeezed the LEGO piece—hard. It had a sharp edge, and the pain refocused him. He needed to get Elise off that ladder.

  “Hey,” he rasped, forcing his voice to be mellow, instinctively knowing that ferocious was not the right approach here. “Let me do that.” He touched his hand lightly to her lower back so he could guide her down the two steps, forcing himself not to physically lift her down.

  She smiled down shyly at him. Almost like she wasn’t sure of him.

  Which was fair, given his behavior of the past few days. But it was also unacceptable. They had to get over this, this tentativeness.

  So the moment her feet hit the ground, he said, “You look beautiful.”

  She did. Elise’s personal style kind of…made him crazy. It had been one of the first things he’d noticed about her. She had a way of mixing classic looks with just the right amount of flamboyance. Today that meant a black minidress that was entirely appropriate for a fancy office party, but upon further inspection was covered with tiny, shimmery sequins. And she’d paired it with dark red tights, no doubt a nod to the holiday.

  He had the sudden, alarming thought that soon she would not be able to fit into the slim sheath of a dress.

  But as quickly as it had come, that thought was replaced by another one. By an image, actually, of her body heavy with his baby. Curved and ripe. He blew out a shaky breath.

  “Thanks.” She let him help her down. “You look nice, too.”

  She was still looking at him like she didn’t trust him. There was a wariness papering over her true expression, and that could not be allowed to stand. Getting to know the real Elise was hard. She didn’t show her true self to just anyone. But he had done it, and even though her current tentativeness was his own damn fault, he wasn’t fucking getting demoted now.

  So he leaned over and whispered in her ear, “How long do
we have to stay tonight?” Normally, he would have left it there, let his rough yet suggestive tone speak for itself. She would pick up on it and shoot him some mock-innocent answer. It was how they rolled.

  But right now, given that his aim was to reassure her about where they stood, he needed to make sure his meaning was crystal clear. There was a time and a place for games. With Elise and him, there were lots of times and places for games, in fact. But this was not one of them.

  So before she could answer, he added, “Because I don’t know how long I can go without fucking you, Elise.”

  Her top teeth landed on her bottom lip. Her color deepened, and this time it wasn’t from shyness.

  Good.

  “Other than the pain days, we’ve never gone this many days,” she said quietly.

  She was right. It was Wednesday. They’d hadn’t had sex since Sunday afternoon at the cabin. And he knew what she was saying. Sex wasn’t just sex for them. It was part of how they connected. And she was worried about it. So he let himself be overt as he ogled her. Licked his lips as his eyes slid down her body. He wanted to induce the full-blown lip scrape. “Well, we’re just going to have to make up for lost time, then, aren’t we?”

  He did not get the lip scrape he’d been aiming for. She furrowed her brow. “The baby is going to change things.”

  That was true. The baby was going to change everything, not just sex. But his aim here was to soothe her worry, so he just said, “Well, she’s not here yet.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “She?”

  “Or he.”

  She looked at him for a long time like she was trying to decide something. He couldn’t figure out what was going through her mind, and he didn’t like that. Finally, she said, “You have to stay until the end. You’re the boss.” Then she smiled. A real one. It calmed him somewhat. But also riled him. She nodded at the tables in the ballroom awaiting the arrival of his employees. “You’re the boss of these people anyway.”

  Then she pointed at the ladder, handed him the garland she was still holding, and said, “I have a hundred more feet of this stuff that isn’t going to hang itself.”

  * * *

  Elise was on edge until Wendy and Jane arrived around ten. They, of course, had no business being at the Cohen & Smith company holiday party, but her friends had developed a tradition of crashing Jay’s work parties, and Elise really needed some reinforcement this evening. She was reeling a bit from the strange combination of being beside herself with anxiety, stone-cold sober despite the open bar, and madly in lust with her husband. Yet still unsure if things were right—really right—between them.

  “That was a good speech,” Wendy whispered into Elise’s ear as the crowd clapped and lifted their glasses in the toast Jay was finishing up.

  “Yep.” Sometimes when she watched Jay from afar, when he was in work mode, she was hit anew by all the things about him that had first attracted her. His speech, like pretty much everything else he did, had been perfectly pitched. Short, funny, heartfelt. All the things a speech from a boss at a company party should be. As a boss, Jay was commanding—he had high expectations—but fair. He got the results he wanted.

  He got the results he wanted. She knew what he’d been doing earlier, with his dirty talk. She pressed her thighs together under the table.

  As if he’d seen the effect she was having on him, he suddenly looked over at her. She and the girls were at a far table, but his eyes latched instantly on to hers as he finished drinking after the toast.

  Then, ever so subtly, he glanced at his watch. She caught his meaning. So she rolled her eyes and smiled at him. But she also shook her head slightly. They had to stay at least a little longer. He couldn’t bolt immediately after his speech.

  “So how are you doing?” Jane leaned in from Elise’s other side as the post-toast applause tapered off.

  Elise looked around. Jay had come away from the podium but was surrounded by people. It didn’t look like he was going to be dislodged anytime soon, so she hitched her head toward a corner of the ballroom, and the girls followed her there. They huddled in a dead spot to the side of the bar.

  “I’m fine,” she said, answering Jane’s question from before. “On paper, everything’s fine.”

  “On paper?” Wendy prodded.

  “Well, Jay’s, like, on board now all of a sudden. But I can’t help feeling…”

  “Like he’s faking it?” Wendy had a way of cutting to the chase.

  “I don’t think he’s faking it per se. I just think…I don’t know. That he’s such an honorable guy. And he really loves me. So he’s making himself okay with it. But I can’t help thinking—like, constantly thinking—that he didn’t sign up for this.”

  “But that’s what marriage is, right?” Jane said. “For better or for worse and all that. People are allowed to change.”

  Elise wanted to believe that, but she couldn’t ignore the sinking sense that Jay’s presto-chango attitude adjustment wasn’t genuine. That his initial reaction had been his true one, and that by allowing him to pretend he didn’t feel the way he felt, she would be…damaging him somehow.

  “He and I were talking about our wedding vows, actually. And yeah, he vowed all this stuff, but he said it to me. This is a pretty big bait and switch. He married me, not me and a baby.”

  “You’re overthinking this,” Wendy said. “Yes, it’s a big—”

  “Shh.” Jane glanced meaningfully over Elise’s shoulder.

  “Hey.”

  And there he was, his hand on her lower back.

  That first “hey” had been just for her—delivered low and raspy directly into her ear. Directly into her bloodstream, it felt like. But then he lifted his head and said it again, louder and more benignly, to the girls.

  He turned his attention back to her. “May I have this dance?”

  She tuned into the music. The DJ was playing “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” It was her favorite Christmas song, and he knew it.

  She raised her eyebrows at him. He looked smug. “Being the boss has its perks.”

  He held out his hand, and she let him lead her onto the dance floor. When she was in his arms, he said, “It was either this or Guns N’ Roses, and correct me, but 1980s metal seemed like it might be…not quite the vibe we’re going for at the office holiday party.”

  “Good call.” They danced in silence, swaying slowly, probably more slowly than the music called for, without talking. Elise’s body did that involuntary thing it always did when Jay was close where it gradually…let go. Sighing, she rested her head on his shoulder and let the lyrics of the song really sink in. Was it possible their troubles were behind them? Her body must have thought so, because as she relaxed, she also…tensed up. But in a totally different way than before.

  As the song was ending, he leaned over and whispered into her ear. “Time to go home, Lise.”

  “You can’t leave yet,” she protested, but not very forcefully. “You’re the boss!”

  His eyes sparked as he grabbed her hand. “Another perk of being the boss is that I can do whatever the hell I want.”

  He started towing her away. She waved at Wendy and Jane as they passed the bar, where they were camped out.

  Not five minutes later, they were making out in a cab like a couple of teenagers.

  “Jay.” When things started to get too hot, she tried to push him away, but he only grunted. “Jay.”

  He pulled back then, but leveled the Jay Smith Intensity Look at her. In this case, it meant, What?

  She raised her eyebrows and inclined her head toward the driver. It meant, We can’t get it on in the back of this guy’s cab!

  He rolled his eyes. It meant, I do not agree with your assessment, but I will respect it.

  Her heart squeezed. She loved the way they communicated without speaking. She loved being this in tune with another person.

  He sat back against the seat with a resigned sigh, then shocked the hell out of her by saying, �
��So I was thinking about where to put the baby in the house.”

  Whoa. That was the last thing she’d expected to come out of his mouth. She wasn’t ready for this conversation.

  “I think the baby will probably sleep in our room for the beginning,” she ventured. Which was true, but beside the point. She was trying to make the whole thing as minimally disruptive as possible, to postpone the discussion about having to tear up the house or move. But she wasn’t going to be able to just slide the baby into their daily life without him noticing. They were going to have to talk about this stuff at some point.

  “Yeah, but she’s gonna need her own room eventually. I’m not having a fifteen-year-old in bed with us.” He winked.

  “She?” That was the second time today he had referred to the baby as she.

  “Or he. I’m especially not sharing a room with a fifteen-year-old boy. Trust me. I’ve been a fifteen-year-old boy.” He pretended to shudder.

  She knew he was trying to be funny, to put her at ease. She also knew he was right. “We can convert my office into a nursery. I spend most of my time in the studio downstairs anyway.”

  “Well, I’ve also been thinking—I’d already been thinking this—maybe it’s finally time for you to rent a studio space off-site.”

  He was right about that, too. It was time. It was beyond time. Her business was thriving. There was nothing wrong with meeting clients at the house—that’s exactly why they had turned what would normally have been a den into a studio and meeting space. But she had always intended it to be a temporary measure, and she was doing well enough that she could more than afford to open a storefront somewhere else. She just…really liked working from home, it turned out. And if she had a baby? She would need to, at least initially.

  “Right, but with a baby who will need me to eat, at least for the first few months, and with all the inevitable sleep deprivation, it seems like maybe now is not the time to make that big move?”

  “Good point.” His brow furrowed. He was thinking—she could practically see the cogs in his brain turning. “Okay, then, my office becomes the nursery. I don’t need it.”