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2024-12-01 12:23:08Scarlet
Seven months later…
“Thank you so much,” Quinn says, pushing her messy hair out of her face and taking Emma from my arms. “With Archer’s parents up in Michigan visiting Bobby and my own consumed with construction on the hospital, I’m dying.”
“It’s no big deal.” I look down at Jackson. “We had fun. Emma was perfect.”
Quinn raises an eyebrow in disbelief. Now that she’s over a year and is walking, Emma is a handful. And poor Quinn has been puking nonstop pretty much since the day she conceived her second child. She said she went through the same thing with Emma, making me question her sanity on getting pregnant again.
“Is Archer going to be home soon?”
“Yeah, thankfully.” We move into Quinn’s house, which is far from neat and tidy like it usually is. I hope when I’m finally pregnant I don’t get hit with morning sickness like this.
Right after Wes proposed we started trying in a sense. I knew it would take a miracle to knock me up, but I was hopeful. We had a small but beautiful wedding on Valentine’s Day, and then I had a sit down with my OB to talk about what was really wrong with me. After a slew of tests, I’ve been taking fertility drugs and we’ve still had no luck.
I know many couples try much longer than we have, but it’s starting to really weigh on me. Jackson is dying for a sibling.
“How’s your sister?” Quinn asks, sinking down on the couch in the family room. Three of her six cats are in here, lounging around.
“She’s doing pretty well, actually. I think the group home is a good adjustment for her. She got a job last week at a bookstore.”
“That’s great!”
“Baby steps, but a step is a step.” Heather got out of prison last month. Around the New Year, she started going to a church group with a few other inmates, and it actually turned her around. She still goes to church and is currently living in a group home for troubled young adults with mental health issues. She’s still in Chicago, but we try to see each other at least once a week.
“When will your belly get big?” Jackson asks, looking at Quinn’s stomach.
Quinn puts her hand on her belly. “You’ll probably notice a baby bump in a month or so. I’ve heard you show sooner with the second.”
“You’re totally going to be one of those pregnant ladies who’s all belly and boob, aren’t you?” I ask.
Quinn smiles. “I was last time.” She makes a sour face and then gets up, rushing to the bathroom to throw up. Jackson and I stay a little longer, waiting to leave until Archer gets home. He thanks me as well for helping out with Emma today so Quinn can rest.
“Are you tried?” I ask Jackson when we get home. “I’m tired. Emma wore me out.”
“I’m not tired,” he says with a yawn. “Can I go play now?”
“Yeah, that’d be great. Dinner will be ready in about an hour.”
He goes upstairs and I have every intention of starting dinner, but I fall asleep on the couch, not waking until Wes comes home.
“You feeling okay, babe?” he asks when I get up.
“Yeah, I’ve been tired all day. Maybe I’m coming down with something.”
Wes raises his eyebrows. “Or maybe…”
“I wish.” I shake my head. I’ve been pretty good about waiting until after my period is supposed to begin before taking a test.
“You’ve been tired all week.”
“That’s just one symptom,” I remind him, though after watching poor Quinn puke her brains out I just kind of assumed I’d be like that too and I’d know with absolute certainty that I was pregnant.
Still, Wes’s question hangs over me throughout dinner. And dessert. And bedtime. So much so that I break a rule and bust out a test.
Jackson is fast asleep, and Wes is watching TV downstairs. I said I was going to change into PJs and be right back. Taking one test won’t take long. And I have to pee anyway.
My hands shake, and I close my eyes, talking myself down. Flipping that test over and seeing a big fat negative is more disappointing than I ever expected.
But this time…
“Wes!” I blink. Once. Twice. “Wes!”
I hear him running up the stairs. “What’s wrong?” he asks, pushing open the bathroom door. I’m standing in front of the sink, too stunned to talk. I hold up the test.
Wes looks at it, at me, and back at the test again. Then he pulls me into his arms. “You’re pregnant!”
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WestonI reach over and take Scarlet’s hand. We’re headed back to Eastwood, and though I should probably be a dozen other things, I’m happy. Scarlet is coming home with me.“Why did you start conning people?” I ask, giving her hand a squeeze.“I realized I could,” she confesses. “It wasn’t like a dream I had when I was a little girl to grow up and be a con artist.”“What did you want to be when you grew up?”She shakes her head. “I don’t know. For a while there, I wanted to work at a zoo, but then things changed and I realized I didn’t have options. Especially after I dropped out of high school to take care of Heather and Jason.”“You did go back, right?”“Right. My dad showed up again and was able to look after them. Luckily, because our mom died shortly after.” She looks out the window, and it hits me how different our childhoods were. “I’ve always worked. I had to. Hell, someone had to, and it sure wasn’t Mom. I busted my ass for my family, and when I realized I could get more mone
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Scarlet“What’s all this?” I ask, looking at the papers and boxes cluttering the living room. We just got back to Weston’s house. In the daylight, things never seen as scary as they do in the dark. And the more I think about the universe wanting me to meet Weston, the better I feel about this whole situation.“Family heirlooms. Jackson, don’t touch them,” he adds quickly.“Why are they out?” I take off my coat and move to the couch, curiously picking up an old book.“You-know-who wore her mother’s wedding dress at our wedding.” He looks uncomfortable talking about it. “She wanted it back and I wasn’t sure what box it was in.”“Oh. This stuff is cool.”“You like Civil War history?” he asks, looking a little amused.“If I’m being honest, I don’t know much about it. But I love antiques. Wait, all this stuff is from the Civil War?”“Some of it is. Not all is that old. It’s been in the Dawson family for years and gets passed down to the oldest son. Jackson will get it someday.”“Can I see
