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have his soft little body in my arms, he smiles at me. He reaches for my face and I grab his hand to lay a soft kiss on his chubby fingers.
“You’re so beautiful,” I tell him as his fingers curl around my thumb and he shakes it like a rattle.
He might as well be shaking my soul, because I feel as if all my thoughts have settled into place. Something shifts inside me and I realize that I have no more doubts about seeing Abby. I’m going to meet my daughter. And even if it’s the last time I ever see or touch her, it will still be the happiest, most honest moment of my life.
Chapter Eight
Adam
The three-hour drive from Durham to Carolina Beach is much less excruciating than I thought it would be with Lindsay sitting in the passenger seat. I promised her I would give her a ride to her parents house for Thanksgiving since Cora’s apartment and my parents’ house are just ten minutes away. I didn’t expect to feel this strange comfort inside me, knowing that Lindsay and Kaia won’t be spending the holiday alone.
“I tried calling Nathan again this morning, but I didn’t have the energy to leave another voicemail,” she says as we pull onto the highway. “Kaia was fussing all night and she didn’t even have a fever. I’m so tired.”
I don’t say anything about Nathan, even though I really just want to badmouth that little gold-toothed motherfucker. I always knew Lindsay would regret leaving me for him, but I never expected him to pull some shit like this after the act he put on in Hawaii. Maybe it wasn’t an act. Maybe he just found someone in California who he connected with. Or maybe he just realized that he’s not ready to be a father. Whatever the case is, I can’t help but feel obligated to help Lindsay through this.
“You should ask your mom to watch Kaia for a little while today so you can take a nap.”
“I don’t trust my mom with Kaia. She’ll probably give her an eating disorder by the time I wake up from my nap.”
Lindsay’s mom is a nutritionist. When she wasn’t telling her clients what to eat, she was busy making Lindsay feel like she shouldn’t eat. Lindsay told me about her bout with anorexia during her freshman year at Duke. I didn’t meet her until our sophomore year, but she showed me pictures from the months leading up to her hospitalization and it was not pretty. When we lived together, I would catch her throwing away entire meals in the garbage then piling more trash on top of the food so I wouldn’t notice.
She seems to be healthy now. Maybe it’s a result of the pregnancy, but I catch myself stealing glances at her legs and chest as I drive. As much as I don’t want to, I keep imagining what she looks like underneath those skin-tight jeans and that soft, cream-colored sweater.
“Were you just ogling my tits?” she asks.
I snap my eyes back to the road. “No. I’m….” Fuck. There’s no way to deny that. “You’ve… grown.”
She laughs as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Yeah, it’s called breast milk.”
“You breast-feed her?”
For some reason, this takes me by surprise. The thought of it gives me a strange feeling inside, a feeling I don’t want to give in to. A feeling that can only be described as admiration.
“Uh, yes. It’s better for her and she’s never fussy or gassy, except for last night.”
A soft whimpering comes from the backseat where Kaia is lying in her car seat, but the whimpering quickly turns to a rattling cry for attention.
“Should we pull over?” I ask. I don’t want to have to listen to that for the next two to three hours.
“She’s probably hungry. She was asleep for a couple of hours when you picked us up. I should have just sat in the back with her. Yes, please pull over.”
I pull my truck onto the shoulder of the highway and Lindsay hops out. She climbs into the backseat and, for a brief panicky moment, I’m afraid she’s going to pull out her breast to feed Kaia right in front of me. Instead, she reaches down and lifts the diaper bag off the floor then retrieves a bottle of milk from an insulated pouch. She smiles as she pulls Kaia out of the car seat and cradles her in her arms. Kaia stops crying before the bottle even touches her lips.
I spin around in my seat as I watch in awe. The Lindsay I knew eight months ago barely knew how to take care of herself. Now she holds the life of another human being in her hands.
“You seem to know what you’re doing.”
She kisses Kaia’s fuzzy head then looks up at me, her eyes full of uncertainty. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Adam. All I know is I’m probably going to be doing this alone for a very long time.”
As soon as she makes this sad statement, Kaia turns her face away from the bottle and begins to wail again.
“Shit. Not again,” Lindsay says as she grabs a cloth out of the diaper bag and wipes the milk from Kaia’s cheek.
She looks up at me as the baby continues to cry and I feel like she’s expecting me to say or do something.
“What?”
“Can you please turn around?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry.”
I can’t see what she’s doing, but I can see it all happening in my mind. Almost instantly, Kaia’s fussing is replaced by a very distinct sucking noise. I get a strange urge to call or text Claire, anything to help me not think the things I’m thinking about Lindsay right now.
A joke. That’s what this situation needs.
“Hey, what does a nosy pepper do?”
“What? Another joke?”
“He gets jalapeño business.”
She laughs so hard that Kaia lets out a startled yelp. I turn around instinctively and quickly turn the other way when I glimpse Lindsay’s breast.
“Shit! Sorry.”
“What the hell?” she cries as she continues to laugh. “It’s not like you’ve never seen my tits.”
I reach for my keys in the ignition, desperate to start the car and drive far away from this embarrassing moment.
“Are you almost done?” I ask, trying not to sound too anxious.
“Adam, relax. It’s just a breast. I’m feeding my child. Get over it.”
I take my hand off the keys and close my eyes as I lean back, scared that I might be tempted to look in the rearview mirror. I need to get the fuck out of this truck, or I need to get Lindsay the hell out of here.
“I’ll be right back,” I mutter as I grab my phone out of the cup holder and hop out of the truck.
I step in front of the truck and quickly dial Claire’s number. She picks up on the first ring.
“Hey.”
Just the sound of her voice eases my anxiety. “Hey.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I was just thinking about you. Are you at Senia’s?”
“Yeah. We just finished eating. They’re about to turn on the karaoke machine.”
I smile at the thought of Claire singing. I caught her singing a Rihanna song in the shower once and it was adorable. God, I fucking miss her.
“What are you going to sing?”
“I don’t know. I was thinking of singing something from the Grease soundtrack.”
“Summer Lovin’?” She’s silent after I say this, which makes me think I must have said something wrong. “Are you okay?”
She sighs into the phone. “I’m fine. Actually, I’m really happy.”
“Why are you so happy?”
“I’m finally going to see Abigail on Monday.”
My mind immediately flashes to what I just saw in the backseat of the truck right now. There’s no doubt that Lindsay loves Kaia with all her heart. You could see it in the look of love on her face as she soothed her. I want Claire to feel that bond with Abigail, but I also want to spare her the pain of having that bond broken if Abigail’s parents don’t agree to further visitation.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?”
She’s silent for a moment before she sucks in a sharp breath and responds. “Yes, Adam, this is what I want. I’m not going to fall apart if this is the last time I see her. For fuck’s sake,
I’ve endured worse. I know I made the right decision giving her up, even if it wasn’t the right decision for me. It was the right decision for her. Please stop questioning me. It makes me feel like you have no faith in my ability to make a sound decision.”
“I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“And I appreciate that, but please give me some credit. I’m beginning to think—”
She stops before finishing this sentence and I’m suddenly aware of the whooshing sound of cars rushing past me on the highway. “What are you beginning to think?”
“Nothing. I have to get back to the festivities before Senia comes back here for me.”
“Claire?”
“Yes.”
“I have some things I want to talk to you about when you have more time. Can you call me after you see Abigail? I want to make sure you’re okay to talk.”
“Yeah, I’ll call you. Is everything okay?”
I pause as I take a deep breath that reeks of exhaust. “Everything’s fine. Have a good Thanksgiving. I’ll call you later to say goodnight.”
