He responds by pushing it open, his lower half wrapped in a towel. “Good morning, beautiful.” He ruffles my hair as I press the mug into his hands.
“Is it even morning?” I mumble, half-asleep.
“Close enough. Five a.m.” He taps my chin. “You should go back to bed. You need your rest, Mama.”
“I like the sound of that.” I steal a glance in the mirror at my luminous complexion, my skin for once clear and bright. “We must’ve slept like rocks.” I walk like a zombie to the other sink in the master suite. I brush my teeth and then watch Noah’s reflection in the glass as he gets dressed, admiring his trim physique and tailored suit.
A man in a suit does it for me, and I tug gently on his striped tie. “Do we have time for round two?”
He laughs. “I wish. I’ve got a flight to LaGuardia.” As he kisses me hard on the lips, I close my eyes, tasting his peppermint mouthwash and his aftershave.
“You didn’t even get a chance to unpack.”
“I’ve got some fresh clothes in my trunk. I’ll switch it out—not a big deal.”
“Okay, but throw the rest in the laundry. I can drop your dry cleaning off when I go there today, after my doctor’s appointment.”
“You’re the best . . . new mommy.” He swats my ass playfully. “Wait, you’re going to the doctor without me?”
“Just this once.” I hold up a finger. “It’s for them to confirm it with a blood test.”
Noah slides his watch on, clearly annoyed. “I should switch my flight and go with you.”
“Can you?” I beg. “I’d like to have you with me.”
“Yep.” His phone starts to buzz, eliciting a weary look. “Give me a minute. Let me see what I can do.” He steps out of the room for a few minutes; disappointment is written on his face when he returns, his mouth drawn into a frown. “I want to go to the next one.”
I can tell he’s getting tired of being away from home so much, and I need to fix that. Hopefully, our baby will help him realize that we need him on the ground, and not overseas.
“Please.” He takes my hands in his. “Can I go with you to the next appointment?”
“That will be an ultrasound, so absolutely.”
Before he walks out the door, he hesitates, rotating to ask me a question. “Charlotte?”
“Yes?”
“Who drives the black Mercedes that’s here some nights?”
My mouth tightens. “What black Mercedes?”
“It’s parked on the street, right outside of the house.”
“No idea.” His observation makes me nervous. “Should I be worried?”
“No,” he mutters. “I thought you might know who owned it.”
“I’m surprised I haven’t noticed. As you know,” I warn him, “I’m more aware of what’s going on around me than most people.”
CHAPTER 23
Elle
Charlotte’s parked near the bus stop after school. Self-conscious, I flinch when I see her wave me over. It’s becoming obvious to me by the rumors that I can no longer hide my pregnancy, and frankly I’m not in the mood for adult interaction today, especially when she seems elated to see me.
“Hi, Elle, do you have time for a snack?”
“I can’t.”
“Oh, bummer, do you have plans?”
“I’m busy now.” I bite my lip.
“What about tomorrow?”
I sigh, “Charlotte . . .”
“What?”
“I have a lot going on right now. It’s not a good time.”
“Can I call you later?”
“Sure, go ahead.” I shift my backpack to the other shoulder. “You’ll get my voice mail, but feel free to leave a message, and I’ll return it never because I don’t have a fucking phone.”
She recoils like I slapped her. “Excuse me?”
“Money doesn’t grow on trees for kids like me. I’m not fucking Courtney or an unlucky future child of yours.”
“Is that so, young lady?” Tinged with steel, every word drips restrained fury. “Something tells me that you’re feeling spiteful, since you stole a pregnancy test and it’s the only test you’ve passed lately.”
I’m sure my blue eyes spark with outrage as Charlotte glares right back at me. Even though I’m hormonal and temperamental, there’s an ounce of respect buried underneath for her bluntness.
“I saw your boxes of pregnancy tests on the counter,” I mumble. “Are congrats in order?”
“And I saw yours. So why don’t you tell me what the hell’s going on?” Charlotte points an irritated finger at me. “Because I don’t do this.”
“What’s ‘this’?”
“Put up with a shitty attitude, because life is unfair.”
“You came here,” I retort.
I take a deep breath, reminding myself not to let my mouth get ahead of me. My goal is not to make an enemy of Charlotte. I need her in my corner, at least for now.
“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
“Why?”
“Because I’m a charity case you feel sorry for.”
“Let’s make a deal,” she remarks. “Let’s both stop making assumptions about what the other person is thinking and feeling. It’s getting us nowhere.”
My mouth goes slack. “Why would you want to help a perfect stranger?”
“Because I feel a kindred spirit with you. You didn’t just show up on my doorstep out of nowhere. It must’ve been predetermined. Call it destiny or fate.”
Or totally intentional, I howl in my brain.
I want to scream at her, tell her to fuck off, but I can’t. His advice and warnings flash in my head like a public service announcement, but until justice can be served up in the form of a steaming platter of shit with her name written all over it, I’m at a loss.
This just got one hundred times more complicated now, if she’s pregnant.
My throat goes dry.
How am I going to tell him Charlotte’s knocked up?
I clench my fingers around the straps on my backpack. This could work . . . it will be more upsetting than my own admission and will take the disappointment off of me.
This is advantageous.
The bus shudders to a stop at the curb. “I gotta go.”
Looking at the people who have begun to board the bus, many transient, some homeless, Charlotte lets her face betray her. “Can I give you a ride?”
“No.” I pause. “You were right, you know.”
She tilts her head. “About what?”
“That we shouldn’t be involved in each other’s lives.” I scrunch my nose up. “This will be me in a couple months, destitute. Better just stay away. Go back to your side of town.”
Crestfallen, she looks like she might cry, her face contorted like she smells something unpleasant. “That’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair. I can promise you that.”
“I can help you.” She pushes open the passenger door. “Stop being so argumentative and get in. At least let me give you a ride.”