"I'm late." "What do you mean, you're late?" The words slipped past my lips in a much harsher tone than I'd intended. "I mean, I should have started my period four days ago, and it hasn't come. I'm late." The fear in my girlfriend's eyes was more crushing than the thought of her being pregnant our sophomore year in college. "Maybe it's just stress." I'd heard stress could change the body's chemistry, surely it could change a woman's monthly cycle. "I'm on the Pill, James. It should be like clockwork." "Exactly, you're on the Pill. So there's no way you could be pregnant." I wanted to believe those words, but even as a guy, I wasn't stupid enough to believe anything was foolproof except abstinence. And we were far from celibate. She stared at me in disbelief. "You're not really that naïve, right?" Her clipped tone gave me more insight into her trepidation than the fear in her eyes. I took her into my arms, pulling her onto my lap, and sat on the be
"Hey, Carp. That was a great game." Tiffany was a cheerleader I'd tried my best to avoid. She was a nice girl, except ever since she'd broken up with her boyfriend, Todd—also our team captain—she'd been making a play for me. "Thanks." I tried to shake it off and keep moving toward the locker room. I wasn't comfortable with her forwardness, especially when Cora wasn't nearby. She was like my wingman, and everyone on campus knew we were a package deal…including Tiffany. That in itself pissed me off. There was nothing I found less attractive than a woman who went after a man in a relationship with someone else. Don't get me wrong, I thought men who did the same were equally repulsive. "A bunch of us are going to The Grid in a bit…you coming?" I swore she knew Cora wasn't here. She always walked a fine line, but anytime she got near me and I was alone, she pushed far harder than friendly flirting. I politely declined the invitation, and just as the words had left my mouth,
Other than kids, the one thing Cora and I had avoided like the plague was our plans after graduation. Neil and I had talked openly about buying a small financial firm and joining their team once we had our diplomas in hand, but Cora planned to go to grad school—although she hadn't said where. "We're going to have to talk about it at some point, Cora." I tried to reason with her when she walked in on Neil and me discussing businesses to consider. He politely excused himself, leaving the two of us alone. "Why ruin the end of our senior year when we don't have to, James?" She flitted about the kitchen putting away the groceries she'd bought. I loved the way she hummed a song I'd never heard trying to placate me into denial. It was endearing even though ineffective. "It doesn't have to ruin anything." I followed behind her in a perfectly choreographed dance, taking items from her to put them in places she couldn't reach in an effortless display of teamwork—we worked togethe
She called my bluff, and the hand that was down her pants now assisted the other in removing them completely, along with her underwear. There she stood in all her naked glory in our kitchen with her clothes—minus the bra still hanging from the lamp—in a pile on the floor. "You wouldn't do that." Before I could actually hit send, the front door swung open and in strolled Neil with Hannah right behind him. It all happened so fast. I had gotten too far away from her to actually provide any barrier or coverage, and Neil's sights landed on her breasts before dipping down to her neatly trimmed landing strip just above her goods. "Oh, shit. Dude, I had no idea. I thought you two were talking." Hannah slammed the door closed to keep outsiders from seeing in, while I watched the scene unfold, and Neil stared at Cora's baby maker like a prepubescent teen. "Cora, oh my God. Where are your clothes?" Hannah squealed in hysterical laughter. In no other situation would an
The compromise ended up with Cora picking Cornell Tech in the heart of New York City to pursue an engineering degree. She'd taken math and science classes, but I didn't believe that was what she'd intended to do on the other side of the country. It had been a possible path she'd tossed around, yet unlike everything else she did, this was the one thing she'd never had a firm grasp on. Cora had floundered with career choices, and in all honesty, I believed her desire to go to grad school stemmed from her inability to pick a direction. If she continued with school, it bought her more time to be indecisive. Even with her concession, she didn't seem the least bit upset with her choice. Hannah had decided to go to culinary school at The Michelin Institute on Long Island. She and Neil were getting their own place, and Cora and I were going in search of one ourselves. Neil had become a miser since his parents lost their fortunes—he'd give Scrooge a bad name. Somehow, he'd managed to pay
The next day, we got to the museum an hour before it opened, hoping to beat the rush. We bypassed the actual history of tattooing in favor of the tattoo parlor itself. All four of us managed to get in, although we spent the entire day sitting around waiting between people who had appointments and those who'd gotten there before we had. I had no idea what Neil and Hannah were up to when they headed back together to get matching tattoos. They went before Cora and me, and then reappeared approximately two minutes later both having been permanently branded. "So what'd you get?" Cora bounced in her seat with excitement and anticipation. Hannah came over to where we were sitting and started to unbutton her pants. "Whoa, what are you doing?" I shielded my face from accidentally viewing her lady bits. She just rolled her eyes and pulled down the right side of her jeans to expose Neil's name in black with a red heart for the E. I glowered at the inscription and the
By the time we finally made it to New York, we needed a day in the hotel to recoup before embarking on housing and businesses. The plan had been for Cora and Hannah to enroll in courses for the fall while Neil and I looked at a handful of companies. Until we saw where the physical locations of these places were, it didn't make sense to find a place to live and end up two hours away because we hadn't planned well. The girls hadn't been on their own longer than an hour before Cora called, hysterical about Hannah refusing to get on the subway. Cora had grown up in White Plains, so where being in the city wasn't unfamiliar to her, Hannah was a small-town girl from Idaho. I swore it was the lost state. No one was from Idaho. Other than potatoes, I couldn't think of a single thing Idaho had. Whatever it was hadn't prepared Hannah for the city. "James, she won't go back down the stairwell to the subway." "Why? What happened?" She didn't have any phobias I was aware of.
Moving to Long Island had been like relocating to a different planet. I wasn't a stranger to wealthy people—Geneva Key and Chapel Hill had been full of them—but everything about this place was foreign from the way they talked to how people dressed. It took me weeks to get to the point that I could understand the dialect—not because the words were all that different, it was the speed at which people spat them at me. And yes, they spat. Once we'd settled in—after realizing that even with the monetary resources Cora and I both had, without spending millions, our housing options were limited…and small—life started to take shape. Between the four of us, it made more sense to share an apartment until we were all solidly on our feet. With the girls in school and Neil depending on the business for income, it made sense to live like Friends when the going rate for a two-bedroom space was three grand. And in the long run, it left Neil and me without guilt choking us with all the long night
I missed my mama every day. She told me she'd have to go to heaven first, but I hadn't really believed her. Or maybe I didn't understand what that meant. Everything she told me had been true. My daddy came to take his turn when hers was over, and he brought Cora. My mama hadn't been able to tell me much about her except that she would love me. And she'd been right. Daddy and I played when he'd get home from work, but Cora was my best friend. We made scrapbooks together and told stories about our mamas, and when I wanted to cry, she didn't treat me like a baby. She held me, and she cried, too. I knew she was sad here, even if she never told me, so I took her out every day looking for a friend—not for me, for Cora. And every time I saw a shooting star, I gave Cora my wish. When I started school, I met lots of kids. My teacher said they were friends—but I didn't think if someone bit you or hit someone else that made them a friend. I thought it made them mean. Maybe Cora should t
Chapter 71: Cora"So when do we get to meet the little urchin?" Neil was excited to meet his best friend's son. "Cora's grandmother is bringing him home around lunch." "How's that going, Cora?" The concern on Neil's face was endearing. "Really well. It's not going to fix itself overnight, even so, I think we're both trying. And that's about all we can do right now. Legend makes it a lot easier." "Does anyone have any idea why his mom gave him such an…odd name?" Hannah had chosen her words carefully as not to offend James, but he'd wondered the same thing. "We haven't asked." I wanted to. However, with everything else going on, it seemed to be at the bottom of the list of things to question. Before the conversation of namesakes could continue, the front door flew open as the doorbell rang. Gwendolyn tried to respect the Carpenters, while Legend had already made himself at home. "Daddy, look what Dottie got me." He flew through the foyer and into the b
Having joint custody of a young child was exhausting. We weren't obligated by court order to give Gwendolyn any time, but Legend loved her, and it gave me an excuse to spend time with her out of perceived obligation. I didn't have to admit I was anxious to get to know her or that I had questions. I didn't have to tell her I'd done nothing besides think about all the ways I'd missed out over the years. I got to use Legend as an excuse to have lunch with her during an exchange or walk on the beach while he played in the waves, or sit on a park bench when he climbed on a jungle gym like a monkey. And each opportunity opened the door to a relationship I'd never imagined I'd have, much less crave. Day by day, I realized what I would have missed out on had I not given her the chance. And I tried not to dwell on all I'd lost in favor of all I had to gain. "I'm going to miss you tonight, buddy." Legend was tall and lanky, much like the pictures I'd seen of James at his age, and he gave th
"So your father was Chelsea's dad, but she never met him, which makes you Legend's aunt and stepmother? And Gwendolyn, or Dottie, is not only your grandmother; she's my son's great-grandmother? For a Chase, that sounds awfully reprehensible and totally preposterous—not to mention, a tad trashy." I couldn't tell if he didn't buy it or he was so dumbfounded that reality hadn't quite hit him. So I stood there with my arms crossed over my chest, my hip cocked to the side against the dresser, and a death glare on my face while I blinked slowly in his direction. He continued to move about our room getting ready for bed, and still, I said nothing—waiting for it to register. When he finally stopped, presumably because I hadn't made a peep, I pursed my lips and raised my brow, daring him to make another joke. "Baby, what do you want me to say?" He patted the mattress next to him, but I remained firmly planted. "I can't begin to wrap my mind around any of the twisted pieces in the puzz
I wandered aimlessly across the island. Although, the years of blame and weeks of turmoil with Gwendolyn at the forefront subsided. Eventually, I had to end up back at the Carpenters', nevertheless my mind was a disaster. The farther I walked, the more muddled I became. I'd cried more in the last two hours than I could remember in the last two years. Tears didn't bring clarity, only a headache. I couldn't imagine how I'd tell James that Legend had a fifty percent chance of having Huntingtons, much less suggest having him tested. Moreover, I couldn't figure out why we would want a death sentence for a child we'd just met. If there wasn't a cure, then why live with that looming overhead. It made no sense to me, but it wasn't my choice to make. Legend wasn't my son—not biologically anyway. James and Gwendolyn would need to be the ones to make that decision. I didn't envy either in that choice and wished I could fix it with a hug, since that was about all I had to offer. When th
"Was she sick when she got pregnant?" "Yes. Although, I doubt James even realized it. She had tremors in her hands, and at that point, she wasn't comfortable driving because every once in a while, she'd get turned around. However, most of her symptoms were easily masked as fatigue or clumsiness. And she wasn't around James much before he left town. The disease didn't progress drastically until Legend was about three." "How could she have ever thought she could raise a child alone?" The part of me that had been grateful to Chelsea for the gift she'd given us had turned to rage. "I can't imagine being so selfish knowing she was going to die and that child would have no one." "He had me. The same way she always had. And in her eyes, that was a great life." "Explain that to me. How did my dad go from knocking up her mom to you being the grandmother to her that you never were to me?" "Would you like some more coffee, dear?" I could tell that was her way of try
I made it to the end of the driveway before curiosity got the better of me. I shouldn't care what she'd meant by so did they, yet each step I took got harder as the sentiment echoed in my mind. I stopped and stared at the sky, cursing God for giving me a heart that made me unable to let those three words go. "Ugh," I groaned to no one. Nothing she could say would change anything. Still, for some reason, I couldn't walk away. It was like not picking up the next book after a major cliffhanger. I had to have the truth, even if the ending sucked. My shoulders dropped in defeat, and I pivoted on the ball of my foot to head back to my grandmother's porch. Each time I lifted my foot, taking me closer to her front door, I cringed inside. "Get the information. In and out. You don't have to make friends with her or even peace. Just find out her side and go." Talking to myself in my head was one thing; doing it out loud took my irritation to a whole new level. I sounded like an i
When the door finally cracked open, I was met by a face I wanted to love but couldn't figure out how. "I had hoped you'd come by at some point. Please, come in." She ushered me through and straight into her home. "Is everything all right with Legend?" Gwendolyn asked as she pointed me toward the couch. "Oh yeah, he's fine. He and James went to the park." "Would you like some coffee?" Coffee indicated I'd be here a while. It would also give me something to do besides fidget with my hands and pick at my fingers. "That would be nice, thank you." She made her way to the kitchen, leaving me on the couch. "Your father was a big coffee drinker, although, I don't recall your mother ever liking it much." I smiled at the memory. My love of the drink had indeed come from my dad. "She didn't care for it, but I used to steal sips of his when he wasn't looking." It had slipped out before I realized I was being civil. "Are you hungry? I have some muffins." "N
"How are things going?" I hadn't had much time to talk to Hannah since we'd left New York, and I missed my best friend. "Status quo. The real question is how are you holding up?" The concern was evident in Hannah's tone. "Honestly, I'm struggling, but not with what you'd expect." "Oh yeah? Insta-mom has been a walk in the park?" She giggled. "Hannah, he's awesome. You're going to love him. He looks nothing like James, but it's uncanny how similar the two are. I'm completely gone for him." "Then what's the problem, are you jealous?" "Of what?" I'd just told her how much I adored Legend. There was no reason to think I'd be jealous of his relationship with his dad. "The other woman," she whispered as if Chelsea were a secret. "You are aware she passed away, right?" "Yeah, but she still had your husband's child. And I remember how you felt about her when you were in France. This has to be like a giant slap in the face—her parting gift to you."