Tug of War, page 9
part #4 of Childhood Games Series
“I don’t know why you’re bothering to display those. Your designs get uglier every year,” a voice snarls behind me.
Spinning around, I come face-to-face with my rival, Darla. We were in design school together, and she hated me because my designs were always top of the class.
I don’t want to stoop to her level; my mother raised me to be better than that. I can hear her words clear as day in my mind.
“Stephanie, if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”
Wise words from a wiser woman.
“Hello, Darla, nice to see you. Good luck today,” I tell her in a tone as upbeat as I can possibly muster despite how miserable I am feeling.
She examines her nails as if she’s just chipped one. “Yes well, we will see who comes out on top today.” She turns on her heels and walks away.
“Who was that disaster?” Riley asks beside me.
“That was my design school rival. I’m damn sure she only came over here to see what dresses I have today, and to tell me they’re ugly.”
“I bet hers are worse.” Riley laughs as she begins setting up a stall beside mine.
“Is your stall here?” I ask.
“Sure is.”
“I’m glad to be next to someone I know.”
“I’ll send a few people over. I also have personal experience working with you so I can definitely say your designs are not ugly,” she reassures me.
I finish setting up my table and stall with five minutes to spare. When the doors open, there’s a flurry of excitement amongst women, men and children all filing in to see what the show is all about. Some of the men who come to my stalls with their brides look less than enthusiastic about being here. Typical and yet, comical.
It also makes me think of Jake.
Is he happy overseas? Does he miss me as I do him?
I turn around to compose myself away from my potential clients. I miss him so much I just wish I could text him and tell him that.
By the end of the event, I’ve got so many new clients booked to come in and try on dresses and tuxedos. I even had a few brides who wanted bridesmaid dresses made too.
Dragging my feet up my front steps, I’m ready for a quiet night in and some of my favourite red wine. I really want to drown my sorrows in alcohol tonight because Jake not talking to me sucks.
Only, as I walk into my house, I hear the sound of voices coming from the kitchen and the aroma of something delicious wafts down the hall. My stomach growls in agreement as the smell gets stronger. I make my way down the hall in hopes that Jake might have come home early and is cooking me dinner. I know it’s wishful thinking, but I really want to see him. I’d do anything to see him.
My parents, sister Paula, her husband Bryan, and nieces Skylar and Hazel are seated in my dining room.
“Great timing sis, dinner is almost ready.” Paula laughs as she pours me a glass of wine. My parents come over and hug me tightly.
“How are you, darling? We missed you. We brought photos and gifts around for everyone. Sorry to spring this on you,” Mum says, hugging me extra tightly, followed by my dad doing much of the same.
“No worries guys, it’s great to see you.” I want to cry; not because I don’t want to see my family, but because they’re not who I expected.
I wanted it to be the one person I can’t have.
Jake.
Jake
It’s been a month since I left—four weeks of torture. During the day I’m fine, able to keep busy and my mind off Stephanie. The night is the worst. All I think about is her. She’s in my dreams so deep that I swear I can smell her perfume in them too.
I miss her more than I ever thought possible.
I regret leaving her the way I did. I was livid with her and felt she’d used me. Now that I’ve had a chance to calm down, I wonder if I got the wrong end of the stick. Perhaps I jumped to conclusions.
I’m sitting in my bunk, penning a letter to her; one I won’t send. It explains everything I’m feeling, how much I hurt because of her, how much I miss her, and what I’ve been doing here. I find it therapeutic to write. I’m not known for sharing my feelings verbally, but to write things out works best for me.
Things might have been different between us now if I’d hung around to let her explain. I’m not completely at fault in this, but I do know I should’ve been honest with her. Aria has said Stephanie has been miserable and hasn’t really been around to see her for a while. I never wanted to come between my sister and her best friend. I’m worried about Stephanie and how she is coping with my absence.
After I finish the letter, I fold it gently, perfectly, and then search for an envelope. After finding one, I carefully insert the letter, seal the envelope and place it into my bag with all the others. I haven’t counted them, but there’s been at least two letters a week since I’ve left. I look at my phone, finding a photo of Stephanie that I took after our night together. She’s coyly sitting on my bed, wearing my shirt. It’s pulled up to her chin, and she’s laughing at me.
God, I could get lost in those opal coloured eyes.
A knock on my door distracts me, and I put my phone down.
“Enter,” I call.
“Wanna play ball with us, bro?” my comrade Michael asks, tossing a ball between his hands. He’s one of the medical officers in my unit and probably one of my best friends.
I chuckle. “Are you looking for an ass-kicking?” I take to my feet, turning towards him.
“Come on old man. I’ll show you my skills.”
He tosses the ball at me, and I catch it. “Who are you calling old man?” I dribble it around him like a dance and bounce it out to the court before I take a shot for the hoop, landing the ball through it. I spend the rest of the day showing Michael this old dog still has moves.
If only they were as useful to get Steph back.
Stephanie
“How was the trip?” I ask my Dad as I take a seat next to him at the table and pour myself a glass of wine.
“Fabulous. Your mother wants to go again.” He chuckles.
“We recommend cruising to anyone. There was lots to do aboard the boat, and when we stopped, you could choose whether or not to go ashore or stay on board. We, of course, went ashore. It was a perfect trip.”
“That’s awesome. I missed you both.”
Paula and Bryan serve up dinner. I inhale the scent of something yummy, but my stomach lurches at the smell, and an acidic liquid rises into my throat. I turn away from the meal, trying to erase the odour, but it’s hard.
“What have you made?” Mum asks.
“A vegetarian curry, rice and naan bread,” Bryan says.
“And for dessert, there’s homemade chocolate mousse, ice cream and chocolate sauce,” Paula says.
“How was your day?” My mum asks.
“Busy. The show was sold out. I had fifty new clients sign up with me. It was awesome. They all want a bridal gown made but have no idea if they want bridesmaid dresses or not. I assured them they could sort those details later.”
“Excellent, hopefully, this puts you on track for opening your own store.”
I smile at my mum. I don’t tell her that I’m not sure I want to open a store but rather own my own home with the hope to set up my business out of there. I take a sip of my wine and don’t say anything else. Suddenly, I don’t feel like drinking wine anymore, nor am I particularly hungry.
This is weird. I was starving earlier.
I pick up a spoon, digging into the rice and curry. I take a few mouthfuls, and it’s delicious, but my stomach really doesn’t want to eat it. It lurches, flip flops and doesn’t want anymore. I feel queasy. Maybe I’m coming down with something new, or perhaps I haven’t quite shaken my illness from a few weeks ago. If only Jake were here, he’d be able to tell me.
Jake.
My thoughts vanish in a blink as I think of him. I stare at my plate, lost in my own little world. I miss him so much it hurts. Every night I dream of him. His hot, sexy body fills my very naughty dreams. When I wake, I’m horny as hell and in desperate need for him.
I want him back.
“Earth to Steph.” A gentle shake to my shoulder breaks my trance. I turn to find Paula sitting there, giving me a concerned look. “Are you okay?”
“Actually no, I’m not. I’m about to be very rude and kick you all out. I’m not feeling well, and I just want to head to bed.”
My mother searches my face with her eyes. “You do look pale.”
“It might be remnants from my infections a few weeks ago. I was really sick.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” my mum asks.
“I didn’t want to spoil your holiday, and besides, I was in good hands. Jake, Aria’s twin brother who happens to be an Army medic, came over to look after me.”
Paula nudges me playfully. “Looking after you, aye? I bet he did.”
“Mummy, what does that mean?” Hazel asks curiously.
“And that is where we are going to end this conversation,” Bryan says, picking up Hazel. “Let’s go, babe.”
Paula rises out of her seat. “Call us if you need anything.” She hugs me and chases her family down my hall.
“You head to bed, sweetheart. Your mum and I will clear away the dishes,” my dad offers.
“You don’t need to do that.”
“We will.”
They don’t need to do much but rinse everything and put it in the dishwasher. Meanwhile, I get myself ready for bed. I take some pain relief and get into my pyjamas, and my mum comes to check on me. She’s a nurse or used to be until she decided she wanted to be a midwife. She actually delivered my sister’s babies.
“Call me anytime.”
“Thanks, Mum.” I hug her, and they leave. I tuck myself into bed, and suddenly, the need to be sick becomes overwhelming, and I barely make it to the bathroom and toilet.
What the fuck?
Bending over the bowl, I breathe heavily and the urge to vomit a second time hits.
And I’d enjoyed that curry too, damn it!
Resting back against the wall, I tip my head backwards. I really hope I’ve got a stomach bug and not something else.
Chapter Eleven
Stephanie
“Hey, how are you?” Aria asks as I step into her lounge. I slump down onto the couch next to her and opposite Toby and Simon. Sasha and Charlotte are playing a game.
“I’ve had the day from hell.” I tuck one leg beneath my bum as I make myself comfortable on the couch. I lean back, rubbing my throbbing temples. I’ve had this headache for days now, and it simply will not go away. Not to mention, I’m still nauseous, and not wanting to vomit again, I’ve avoided eating too much.
I probably shouldn’t even be here if I have a stomach bug. Surely, the symptoms might have subsided by now.
“Scratch that, I’ve had the week from hell,” I amend.
“Someone sounds like she needs a wine,” Aria says. She gets out of her seat and walks into the kitchen. She returns moments later with two bottles. Obviously, one of them has sparkling grape juice in it.
That sounds pretty good. “Actually, I’ll pass on the wine, but I’ll join you in having a sparkling grape juice.”
The room stops to stare at me as stunned silence fills the air.
Toby chuckles. “Who are you, and what did you do with Stephanie?”
“I’m just not feeling well,” I reply, hoping he’ll drop the subject. Toby leans over and pops open the bottles while Aria returns with wine glasses. She pours Sasha a wine and us both a grape juice. Taking a sip, it settles well and tastes better than the wine.
“Start talking,” Aria says as Sasha comes to join us while the boys swap with her and play with Charlotte.
“I haven’t felt well all week. I started feeling unwell after the wedding show last weekend. I thought perhaps I was coming down with something or maybe the illness I had a few weeks ago was lingering, but as the week progressed it hung around and then I started getting phone calls from some of the brides that I signed up saying they got a better deal elsewhere and wouldn’t be needing my services,” I explain and continue.
“So, there’s that to be added to everything else. I’m so stressed about losing all those clients. I was hoping to build my business this year and hopefully buy a house the year after. I think I’m just sick because of too much pressure. Then there was today.”
“What happened today?” Simon asks.
“Today was the icing on the proverbial cake. I vomited my lunch all over one bride who was trying on dresses. Her mother brought coffee into the shop, and I haven’t been able to stomach it all week, and I threw up. It’s happened twice today. The only silver lining to this was that the dress was one the bride hated and wasn’t planning to buy anyway.”
“Steph, sounds to me like your symptoms are the same as Aria’s were a few weeks ago before we discovered she was pregnant. Can’t stand the smell of coffee, vomiting at the sight of food and nausea.”
“Pfft, I’m not pregnant. You have to have sex to get pregnant.”
The words echo in my mind.
You have to have sex to get pregnant.
Pregnant.
Me.
Jake.
The room stares at me.
“Excuse me.” I get out of my seat and head to the bathroom to get away from them all. My entire body is shaking as I think about when my last period had been. It was definitely before Jake and I had sex. Hell, it was even before I was on the antibiotics.
This is not happening.
When I return to the room, everyone’s eyes are watching me.
“Did you vomit?” Aria asks.
“No, I just had to get away from you crazy people.”
“Coffee Steph?” Simon asks with a chuckle. I lurch and throw myself into his kitchen sink, the few sips of sparkling grape juice coming back up. When I turn around, I find Toby grinning.
“What?” I ask as he laughs.
“Nothing. I just didn’t realise a vibrator can get a girl pregnant.”
“I’m not pregnant.”
“Yes, you are,” Simon argues. “Trust me, I know.”
“Jake could tell us for sure. I bet he can rattle the symptoms off the top of his head. Shall we call him?”
“No,” I say a little too quickly. Toby arches an eyebrow and grins. “I just mean we don’t need to bother him with this. I’m not pregnant.”
Aria comes over to me, holding up a pregnancy test. “Pee on this.”
“No.”
“It’s the easiest way to rule this out Steph. Now do it.” Aria can be bossy when she needs to be and is almost as stubborn as her brothers.
I roll my eyes. “Fine. I’ll do it, but I’m telling you, I’m not pregnant.”
Marching down the hall back to the bathroom, I can’t believe I’m about to pee on this. Getting myself ready, I open the box and pull out the stick with shaking fingers.
“Did you pee yet?” Aria calls through the door.
“No. Go away!” I yell.
I sit down, aim the stupid plastic stick and pee. I put the lid back on and straighten myself up. I flip the test over, not wanting to look at the stick. I wash my hands then head out to the lounge, stuffing the stick into Aria’s hands.
“I’m not pregnant, but do you have any salt and vinegar chips? I’m rather hungry.”
“Hon, did you look at this?” Aria asks.
“Nope, don’t need to.”
“Steph, you’re pregnant,” Toby says.
I’m what?
I head over and take the test from him. Looking at it, sure enough, there are not one but two lines. Two perfectly dark pink lines.
Fuck! “I’m pregnant.”
“Yup,” Aria says.
Tears well within my eyes. “I’m pregnant. No, this is not happening. I’m dreaming.”
“Not dreaming, Steph,” Aria says, wrapping her arms around me. “We’re going to have babies together. Wait. It’s not Ben’s is it?” she asks, standing back to stare at me.
“No, but it most definitely is Jake’s.”
“As in our brother?” Toby asks. I nod. “Damn, I didn’t know Jake had it in him to knock someone up, let alone our sister’s best friend.”
“You need to tell him,” Aria says gently.
“I know, and I will. I just want to make a doctor’s appointment first, get it confirmed and then let this sink in. I’m fucking pregnant. How? We were careful. A condom broke but…”
The entire room looks shocked, though Simon and Toby are mocking throwing up.
“We are here for you Steph, all of us; no matter what you need. You can stay here tonight if you want. You and this baby are part of our family,” Aria reassures me.
“Literally,” Toby murmurs.
“Will you be there for the scan?” I ask Aria.
“Of course.”
How the fuck am I going to tell Jake about the baby?
A baby I assured him wouldn’t happen because I’m on the pill.
Yup, I’m definitely pregnant.
I saw the doctor two days ago and have just finished my scan. I’m seven weeks along. Seeing the little blob moving around on the screen made this entire thing real. It had been amazing.
Our baby.
Best I get the courage to tell Jake too. I just don’t want to tell him via email or text. He deserves to be told via Skype so I can see his face at least.
I park my car up my drive, shut off the engine, grab my purse, the CD with the scan images on it, and make my way inside. I dump all my things onto my bed in favour of making myself a cup of tea and getting something to eat.
Hungry already, bubba. You’re just like your daddy, always wanting to eat.
I head into the kitchen to prepare my meal which turns into a giant feast. I clean the entire plate up and drain my drink. I hope this will stay down. I decide to begin doing the dishes and put some music on. As I begin running the water, I hear a knock on my door. I shut off the water and head down the hall. I wonder who it could be.
