Perhaps her mother doesn’t know Kailey as well as she thinks she does. Or perhaps our night together was totally out of character for Kailey. I suspect the latter.
“Kailey, we’re taking you home,” her mother says.
Kailey’s eyes fly to mine, and for some reason, that gives me hope. “You didn’t tell them?” I ask, and she shakes her head.
“Not everything.”
“What?” Addison and her mom both ask at the same time.
Kailey’s eyes fill with tears, and I sit down beside her. “Kailey had an ultrasound,” I say, looking at her sister, hoping she doesn’t say why. We don’t need any more tension. “She’s been put on bed rest.”
Her entire family flies to her side in an instant. “I’m fine,” she says, going on to explain her condition. “The baby’s fine. I just have to take it easy.”
“No stress,” I add, throwing her sister and Mom a look. Her dad and brother-in-law seem totally cool. In fact, Addison’s husband has yet to utter a word. I don’t have to worry about them. “She needs to stay off her feet.”
“Isn’t this convenient?” her mother says, glaring at me. “I suppose this was a doctor you hired, who delivered this news?”
“What the hell are you accusing me of?” I snap.
“Oh, I wasn’t clear the first time,” Clara says. “I’m accusing you of paying off a doctor to make up some illness that forces my daughter to stay with you!”
Before the string of curse words in my throat escapes, Kailey grabs my hand. I know it’s to preserve what little peace there is between her mother and me, but it’s the first time she’s reached for me since our night together. The soft feel of her skin settles me.
Her fingers slip from mine, her blue eyes turning on her mother. “Mom, I was there. I saw the ultrasound.”
“How do you even know what you were looking at?”
“Mom!”
“I think you need to go,” I say to her mom.
“Excuse me?” Clara says.
“We aren’t going anywhere!” Addison says.
“I know she’s your daughter, and your sister,” I say. “But she is the mother of my child, and she needs rest and peace and quiet. If you’re going to upset her, then you are going to go.”
“We aren’t here to upset Kailey,” her dad, the voice of reason says, looking at me. “Ryder, you have to understand something.”
I hate it when people start off sentences that way. I don’t have to do jack shit.
“The first time we heard your name was through tears, our daughter’s tears,” he says.
The room goes quiet. I do understand. I hadn’t thought about it until this moment, but I get it, and I hate it. I hate the fact that Kailey was crying over me. I hate the fact that I wasn’t there when she found out she was pregnant. I didn’t get to share that with her. I hate it wasn’t a happy moment for her. The whole thing has clearly been hell for her—and her family—while I’ve been on the road, blissfully unaware, playing my music, living it up with my fans.
“I wish I’d been there,” I say, extending my hand to her father, hoping he takes it, hoping he sees I’m sincere, hoping he understands it’s time for him to pass the torch to me. It’s time for me to take care of his daughter and our child.
The only sound I can hear is the thundering of my own heart in my chest as Henry stares at me, clearing sizing me up. I’ve been judged and found lacking by record executives, played my fair share of friendly and unfriendly crowds, but nothing compares to standing in front of Kailey’s father, waiting. It’s not so much that I need his approval, but I know what his blessing would mean to Kailey. Finally, he extends his hand.
“We’re here to help. What can we do?” he asks, taking a seat on the floor by his daughter.
“I’m scared,” she whispers to her dad, and it breaks my heart. She never told me that. I never asked, either, but I want her to open up to me.
“Of course, you are,” Addison says, inching closer. “You’re going to squeeze something the size of a watermelon out of your vajayjay.”
Kailey starts giggling, saying, “I forgot about that part.”
Her mother leans over and hugs her. “We’re all here for you.”
Clara’s eyes catch mine, hers still a bit icy. She clearly still doesn’t like me, so it’s almost certain she doesn’t trust me. Ours is a fragile peace, if that’s what it can even be called, held in place only for Kailey’s sake. One wrong move on either of our parts, and war will break out. If it ever does, I’m quite sure her mother would try to kill me.
For sure, this wasn’t the greatest first impression I ever made. Then again, I think the whole family probably came into this hating my guts. Still, I want Kailey happy. Her happiness is most important, so I need to make an effort with these people.
I’m really not very good at this. I don’t get close to many people, though I’m surrounded by them all the time. The last parent of a girlfriend I met was back in high school. I don’t need Kailey’s people to treat me like family. Hell, they don’t even have to like me. I just need them not to get in the way. I want to give this a real try with Kailey. I want to be there for my child. No one is going to get in the way of that. All of that, of course, will be easier if they aren’t my enemy.
Out of nowhere, the guy I thought was mute finally speaks.
“Hi, I’m Addison’s husband, Owen.” I shake his hand, and he stage whispers, “Think you got the only quiet Walker woman.”
“Hey,” Addison says, smiling at him. “We can be quiet. Can’t we, Mom?”
“Yeah, when you’re plotting someone’s demise!” Owen laughs.
Everyone laughs, but it’s Kailey’s laugh that captures my attention. I haven’t heard that enough—not since our day at Jazz Fest. And I’ve missed it. Her family is clearly crazy, but what family isn’t? Mine certainly is—what’s left of it, anyway, and by that, I mean my famous brother. I like that Kailey comes alive around her family, her sun-kissed skin seeming to glow, her eyes dancing. I want to soak it all in.
It’s strange to be around a family. I haven’t had this in so long, I’m out of practice.
Mid-laugh, Kailey doubles over, her hand flying over her mouth, but it’s too late. Vomit has already shot out onto the floor, soaking into the area rug. The foul odor only takes seconds to consume the room.
Why on Earth is it called morning sickness if it can happen in the middle of the afternoon?
“Oh God, I’m sorry,” Kailey says, her voice cracking.
Her mom and I get to her at the same time, our eyes glued on each other, neither one of us willing to yield to the other, both of us wanting to be the person that takes care of Kailey. Henry places his hand on his wife’s arm. I hope the look on my face is enough of a thank you.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” I say to Kailey, trying to help her up, but she gets up on her own accord. I keep forgetting that bed rest doesn’t mean she can’t use her arms and legs. She heads toward the bathroom, and I pick up the hotel phone to dial housekeeping.