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“I don’t know what else to give you. You can’t take those pills on an empty stomach.”
My head’s pounding. I sip some water and eat as much of the yogurt as I can tolerate, then swallow the pills.
Chaser crawls back into bed with me.
I peer over at him. Usually, he’s up and practicing guitar by now. “What are you doing?”
“It’s still early. I’m going back to sleep.” He holds out his arms. “Come here.”
I scoot over, snuggling up against his warm body. “Sorry, I’m so cranky,” I whisper.
“You can be as cranky as you need to be.” He runs his hand over my hair. “Don’t ever apologize to me.”
Tears sting my eyes and my nose twitches. “I’m sorry.”
“Shhh. Why?”
“I screwed up. I wasn’t supposed to get pregnant. How could I not even know? I feel awful. I shouldn’t be so upset but I’m so…sad.”
“You’re allowed to feel however you need to feel.” He squeezes me tighter.
I run my hand over my side. “The one thing my body’s designed to do, I can’t even do right. I’m so…embarrassed that I screwed it up.”
His eyes narrow and he cups my head pulling me closer until our foreheads touch. “You didn’t screw up anything. That’s not your only purpose in life.”
“But I want to have a baby someday. I want to be a mother. What if I can’t?”
It doesn’t seem to matter to Chaser that my rambling complaints all contradict each other. He has a gentle, patient answer for everything.
“We’re going to be fine. The doctor said most women go on to have totally normal pregnancies.”
“Really?” I peer up at him. “You asked the doctor about that?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” I don’t understand why I can’t let this go. “What if I hadn’t…what if today hadn’t happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“What would we have done? I’m on set for twelve, fifteen hours a day some days. You’re away on tour. I don’t want other people raising our children, Chaser. I had that and I hated it.”
He blows out a long breath, ruffling my hair. “I don’t know.”
“Would you have been angry with me?”
“Fuck no,” he growls. “Mistakes happen. You need two people to make a baby, so how could I be mad at you?”
I shrug, thinking over something his father once said to me. “I wouldn’t want you to think I tried to trap you.”
“Trap me? We’re engaged.” He laughs so hard, the bed shakes. “Mallory, you’re so embedded in my soul, you’ll never shake me loose. My heart’s been in your hands since the day we met.”
The intensity and passion behind his words melts my remaining fears.
“I want to marry you. Spend the rest of my life with you.” He sighs and reaches down, twining our fingers together. “You’re right, though. A baby right now would be tough. I hate leaving you so much. I can’t imagine leaving you and our child to go off on tour.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “I’ll need to start selling a hell of a lot more albums so I can afford an extra tour bus for my family.”
My lips twitch into a smile and I rest my forehead on his chest. “You’d do that? It’s not very rock-n-roll.”
“Rock-n-roll is whatever the fuck I say it is.”
“Now, that’s a very rock-n-roll answer.”
“Anything else bothering you?”
“Everything’s bothering me.”
“Anything you want to talk to me about?” He shifts, reaching over me to pick up the discharge papers off my nightstand. “Anything you need me to run out and grab?”
“Give me that.” I snatch the papers away, folding them up and tossing them behind me. “No. They sent me home with…stuff.”
Instead of answering he frowns at his hand, twisting and wiggling his fingers. “So, many, paper cuts. What’s the big deal?”
“This whole experience has been humiliating enough. I’ve never been asked so many personal questions and felt so invaded.”
“I hate to break this to you, Mallory.” He tickles his fingers over my arm. “But from what I’ve heard, if you really want to have a baby, the stork doesn’t deliver them. You’re going to have lots of people up in your business. It’s not the neat and clean process shown on television. It’s messy.”
“How do you have so much knowledge about the subject?”
He shrugs. “I paid attention in biology class.”
“I bet you did.” I poke his side. “I didn’t learn about that until seventh grade. And even then, it was a bizarre, secret that we were never supposed to talk about.”
“Your mother—” He stops himself and shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”
Just the mention of my mother brings me right back to that scared thirteen-year-old girl, desperately wishing someone would explain what was happening to my body. “My father wasn’t as evolved as you seem to be.”
He smirks. “No kidding.”
“And my aunt told me it was a shameful secret I should never, ever discuss with anyone.”
“That’s really fucked up. You shouldn’t be embarrassed about something that’s just…nature.”
“I guess.”
“Didn’t your father take you to the doctor?”
“Yeah, but my regular, eighty-year-old pediatrician. He gave me a book once about my changing body but it was all about how to cover up weird body smells and stuff. Nothing helpful. I didn’t see a…you know, girl doctor, until I came out here.”
“I hope you understand I’m not like that. If we have girls, I don’t ever want them to be ashamed of anything.” He pauses and seems to consider a few scenarios. “Although, you should definitely still have that talk with them.”
“You’d want daughters?”
“Hell, yeah, I’d love a couple little girls who look just like you.”
“A couple? No sons?”
He shrugs. “I don’t think we can really pick and choose. One of each sounds nice, though.”
“I like the sound of that.”
Chaser
Our talk seemed to wear Mallory out. I hate leaving her side but I can’t delay calling the band any longer. I stop to watch her sleeping peacefully for a few seconds before ducking out of the bedroom.
It takes a several phone calls to track down the band’s hotel. I’d left my itinerary along with everything else in my room.
Finally, I get Alvin on the line and explain what happened as plainly as possible.
“Is Mallory okay?”
“We’re getting there. I’m going to be a few more days, though.”
He’s silent. Alvin’s not one to thoughtlessly run his mouth, but I expected him to say something. “Bro, have you watched any of the tabloid shows?”
“Fuck no. Why would I watch that shit?”
“I think you should have a look tonight. Dirty Headlines is running a piece about you guys at seven.”
“About my fiancée’s miscarriage? Why?”
“It’s not quite about that.” There’s a muffled rustling sound in the background. Alvin yelps.
“Alvin?”
He comes back on the line. “Jacob wants to talk to you.”
Just what I need.
“Chaser! Where are you?” Jacob shouts. “You’ve gotta get here for tonight’s show.”
I glance at the clock. Even if I left right now, there’s no way I’d make it on time. “Can’t. I’m sorry. I don’t know if Alvin told you, but—”
“Alvin didn’t need to tell us anything. Why the fuck were you even trying to have a kid right now?” His vile outburst shouldn’t surprise me but I pull the phone away from my ear and stare at it for a few seconds. He’s still ranting when I return. “We’re on tour for the next few months! Not the time to be trying to spit out a damn kid!”
“We weren’t ‘trying’, you asshole. And it’s—”
“Then what’s the fucking problem? Get your god damn ass—”
“Fuck you.” Blind with rage, I slam the phone down and yank the plug out of the wall.
“What’s wrong?” Mallory’s soft voice extinguishes my fury.
I toss the phone and cord aside. “Nothing. Why are you up? Come on, let’s go back to bed.”
She holds out her hands, stopping me in my tracks. “I can’t. I hurt all over and feel gross. I need a shower.”
“All right. Let’s get you showered up.”
The corners of her mouth tilt up a fraction, then her gaze lands on the massacred phone. “Was that the band? Are they upset? Do you need to go?”
“It was Jacob. He’s an asshole. And I’m not going anywhere.”
“Chaser.” Her gentle, reasonable tone triggers my fight response.
“No. Not up for discussion. I can’t right now.” I take a few breaths. “I need to be with you.”
