The Jack in Jack & Jill added a welcomed shower dynamic. The women were complacent to the same old shower traditions of oohing and aahing. But let’s be honest, a onesie was a onesie. And the guys called it like they saw it with plenty of alcohol to back their comments. At one point, Jackson had the room in tears when he heckled Dodd to try on one of those ruffled baby bloomers bedazzled in pink sequin letters, that read ‘spoil me.’ Dodd, who was pretty reserved and usually let Sierra steal the limelight, had his fair share of yummy champagne because he had no problem playing along. Of course Sierra, being Sierra, couldn’t let the opportunity pass. So while Dodd strutted his stuff, wearing a bedazzled baby bloomer over his shorts (how the hell it stretched, I’m still not sure), Sierra playfully got on her knees and lasciviously waved her finger and suggestively winked at her husband. Yes, her mother and grandmother were in the room, their faces blending into the crimson tablecloths. I almost peed my pants. Literally. Good thing I had Kegel power. Otherwise I would have looked like I broke my water. My crotchless panties would have held in nothing.
There were also a few touching moments as well. Jackson and the boys over-exaggerated their “ahhhs” just in time to keep the mood from getting too serious. Sierra teared up reading my card to my unborn honorary niece that accompanied a wardrobe of purple and red. I was over the pink the day after Sierra found out she was having a girl.
There wasn’t a dry eye in the room when Sierra’s mom toasted to her daughter in a beautifully written letter emphasizing that having a child defined her happiness and wished that for Sierra. Along with a trust covering college and grad school—just in case.
But my eyes were probably the only ones that welled when Chase pulled a gift out of thin air. I should have been surprised, since he only found out about the shower the prior morning. But then again—Chase was Chase. It wasn’t the gift that touched me, not that a year of unlimited spa services for a new mom was anything to poopoo. But it was the why. Chase made light of his generosity, toasting, “A happy mama makes a happy wife ... makes a happy husband.” Then he whispered in my ear, “A happy Sierra makes for a happy Blue. Things are probably going to change once the baby comes. Sierra’s probably not going to have as much time. I got you a matching package, so at least you can count on some quality girl time. A happy Blue makes a happy Chase.” His thoughtfulness leveled me.
After the baby shower, everyone disbanded to do their own thing for a few hours. Sierra needed a nap. Jackson and Leanne decided to squeeze in a seal watching tour. And Kate and the girls opted for shopping in Chatham, only after a twenty-minute heated phone conversation with CJ, who, from what I gathered, accused her of wanting to “play for the other team” since she was sharing a room with one of the other nurses from the hospital. Yeah ... he was a loose cannon looking for any reason to start drama. How she was so blind, was beyond me. I left it alone. It wasn’t the time or the place.
“Walk with me.” My fingers interlaced perfectly into Chase’s outstretched hand.
I’ll go anywhere with you. My words were silent, but my eyes screamed it.
“Where to, Dr. Generous?” I hoped he knew how moved I was by his olive branch to my best friend.
He lifted our joined hands to his mouth and brushed a soft kiss on the inside of my wrist. “I meant it. I want you and Sierra to have that time together. You need it. But right now, the last thing I’m feeling is generous. If you don’t mind, I’m done sharing you for now.”
“Then I’m all yours,” I whispered.
We took our time strolling down the beach, with our shoes in hand. Even though it was midday and the sun was strong, you could always count on the crisp breeze coming off the Sound. With our fingers entwined, we walked to the water’s edge and sat in the sand, a few feet from where the powdery beige sand turned soggy. Chase was made for the beach, especially dressed in khaki linen pants and a white linen button down. The entire female race would have appreciated if he replaced every article of clothing in his closet to sport his beach attire.
I chuckled, thinking of how every woman at the baby shower took turns ogling the man standing next to me. Hell, even Sierra’s grandma pulled me aside to tell me she finally figured out the expression: “He hurts my eyes, he’s so attractive.”
We squished our bare feet deep in the dark wet sand while we silently watched the paddle boarders in the distance. The beach was otherwise empty in the late afternoon. As happy as I was for Sierra and for Chase being with me, there was still a looming melancholy in the air.
“Tell me about the baby?” Chase asked. Before I concocted a bullshit response, Chase landed a blow on my heart. “Your baby.”
No one had ever really asked about my miscarriage. Ever. When I said no one, I meant my Dad or Sierra. They steered clear of any and all topics baby related, until Sierra’s pregnancy, of course.
“I wanted him or her,” I spoke the truth.
It felt good to finally say it out loud, to finally admit it. I stared at the rolling waves, my safe haven, and kept talking. “I know it sounds crazy, but I never lumped the rape and getting pregnant together. I never even struggled with the decision. I was keeping the pregnancy. It was my baby—conceived from a nightmare, but still my baby. I wasn’t going to hold the sins of a worthless man against an innocent child. That’s why I pressed charges, even though I knew I couldn’t win. But I needed to try. To do anything to make sure that bastard could never come near us, never have any claim to my baby.” I angled myself closer to him and watched the questions scroll across his eyes.
“I’m not judging. Fuck knows I’m in no place to judge anyone. But why did you wait to press charges? Why’d you think you would lose?”
“I’m a social worker, for god’s sake. I know how the system works. There was no physical evidence. I screwed up. I was in shock and humiliated. All I wanted to do was forget, block out the world. I showered for so long that night, the water was colder than this ocean.” I kicked at the wave rolling over my toes. “I knew better, but I did it anyway. I literally scrubbed the evidence away. On top of that, I stupidly forgot to lock the front door that night. No forced entry. It was my word against his. No witnesses. Everyone knew he was my ex, who I had willingly been intimate with for years. And after the little scene he made the night before in the bar, making it look like he broke up with me ... it would have taken a defense attorney all of two seconds to establish reasonable doubt. Hell, you were there. You saw the faces of those jurors in court that day. They all believed I cried rape.”
“I didn’t.” The words rolled off his tongue without hesitation, while his eyes told me he meant it. He believed me.
“When I found out I was pregnant, I knew I had to do the right thing. Not for me, but for my child. Even if the charges got dismissed, even if it made me look like the bitter knocked-up ex-girlfriend lashing out at the guy who dumped me. Even if he followed through with his threat to sue me for defamation of character. I needed the truth on record. My baby needed the truth on record. But when I miscarried ... everything changed. Everyone’s body language screamed you lucked out; you dodged a bullet. But it didn’t feel that way, not to me. When I got back from the hospital that night, fuck-face’s cousin showed up at my house and rudely reminded me how weak my case was, especially since fuck-face had a credible alibi—him. He promised to not sue for defamation if I dropped the charges. As much as I hated him, deep down I didn’t believe he would ever be a risk to another woman, and my own desire for justice was not worth bankrupting my father. My dad would have spent every last dime defending my honor if they wound up suing me. I would never do that to him. I dropped the charges the next day.”