a losing battle (free at last Book 2) Page 13

  But apart from that, I’ve made some other discoveries, too. Like the fact that cucumber with peanut butter tastes really good—but it has to be crunchy peanut butter. It’s all been worth it just for that revelation.

  I still don’t know whether it’s a boy or a girl. And I don’t know what I’d prefer, either. Well, yes, I do… A girl. But only because I think Hunter would be the perfect daddy for a girl. He could kill anybody who broke her heart.

  Please excuse my aggressive self. It must be the hormones.

  Another thing I’ve noticed is that the nesting thing is no exaggeration. I’d decorate a whole house if I could. But as it is, Carey stops me when the baby’s room is so full you can hardly turn around in it. He makes me take back half the stuff I’ve bought, which, once again, makes me cry bitterly. But since this isn’t the first time Carey’s been accosted by my tears, he insists. Damn him.

  I’ve decided not to change anything about my work situation until I have the baby. Afterwards, I’ll need to rethink things. Including my hours. I won’t be able to keep working evenings and weekends like I have been. I think working full time for Shane again is better for me. I wonder whether he would take me back.

  Even though I know he would take me back, any time I even think that he might not, I start crying. I think it’s about time for this baby to be born.

  Once again, the thought goes through my head: Poor Carey. But he’s taking it like a champ. My nocturnal binge-eating has forced him to run to the convenience store—again—and buy every bit of junk food they have in stock.

  Not to mention my irritability due to the baby punching my stomach or kicking my bladder. Or because of the ridiculous width of my ankles, which, by the way, I can’t even see anymore. Or because my belly is too big even for the most generous maternity wear and all I can wear is sweatpants. And flip-flops, because I can no longer tie my shoes. Or because my breasts are now a cup Z, a true marvel of nature that makes me look cartoonish.

  Oh, and he’s dealing great with my crying fits, in which I curse Hunter and Carey and the baby, and life itself, and the state of California, God, and President Obama.

  And my angry fits about how my situation sucks, I look horrible, and Hunter is an asshole for abandoning me.

  And now I have to do pregnancy exercises on top of it all.

  Carey is my hero. My absolute hero.

  He sits behind me through the classes, stoically taking it all and massaging my back when he’s supposed to, doing every single exercise with me, learning to breathe through the contractions with me. Here he is, only nineteen, and I can rely on him one hundred percent. His fuck-buddies don’t like our relationship, but I know I’m nothing but a big sister to Carey. He’s here for me, of course, because he is my best friend, my little brother who I love more than anything—in a purely platonic sense—but I know he’s also here for Hunter. Because he knows his brother would want him to do this for him. God, the girl who eventually snatches up Carey is going to be the happiest woman on earth. I’m experiencing firsthand how Carey will do anything for love.

  Obviously, with that thought, I’m crying again.

  Carey squeezes my hand, stroking my fingers. “What’s up, doll?”

  “You’re so sweet,” I wail, which makes him smile.

  “That’s why you’re crying?”

  “Yes. I don’t know what I would do without you. You’re going to be a great dad one day. You’d do anything for the people you love. Anything.”

  “You would, too.”

  “No,” I sob. “I wouldn’t.”

  “Well, you’re probably never going to be a great dad, but you’d do anything for those you love, doll. Even for those you don’t love.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, trying to wipe away all those silly tears.

  “Remember when we first met? I was such a jerk, and you still didn’t give up on me. You always made me feel like you cared about me.”

  “I do.”

  “And I care about you.”

  Which makes me cry again, because I don’t deserve this. I’m worthless and useless, and nobody loves me…

  “Doll…” He pulls me into his arms. “It’s time for those raging hormones to give it a rest, huh?”

  “Do you think I’m crazy?” My sobs increase in volume.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Oh, so I’m just imagining things, am I?” I try to break away from him, but he’s holding me tight.

  “I love you, doll.”

  And then I sob some more. Until: “Ouch!”

  “Is she kicking?” Carey asks. Finally the baby revealed it’s gender and I couldn’t be happier.

  I nod, grab his hand, and put it on my belly. Immediately, I see awe on his face.

  “Wow!” he breathes. “Oh my God, doll! That’s the best feeling in the world!”

  “Isn’t it?” I smile, all sadness forgotten. My baby makes me happy. So indescribably happy.

  When she kicks again, Carey smiles bigger. “She’s going to be a soccer player!”

  “I’m so happy,” I say quietly, grinning at him.

  He kisses me on the forehead, wise enough not to point out that not even ten minutes ago I was in the middle of a deep depression. “I know. Me too.”

  Buying baby clothes with Carey is funny. For several reasons, the first being that he is funny. But also because of the reactions he gets from the women working at the stores. They all follow him with their eyes, giving him longing looks and almost tripping over their own feet in an effort to be near him that much sooner.

  Obviously, stores selling baby goods are the best places to meet women. Not that Carey would need any help with that… I know because…well, his room isn’t all that far from mine. Sound carries. That’s all I’m going to say about that.

  “Oh, yes,” a salesgirl says enthusiastically. “You should definitely get a sling so the baby is always near your heart. Oh, and here’s my number, in case you ever need to get out of the house…” Okay, nobody has said that to him yet, but judging from the way they’ve all looked at him, they might as well have. So many women have handed over their numbers over the last few weeks. Who would have thought a future dad—and he isn’t even a future dad—could be such an aphrodisiac?

  “Should we get this blanket, too, doll?” He holds up a lilac blanket that looks so fluffy I want to cuddle it and make it my own comfort blanket right now.

  I waddle over to him, touch the fabric, and sigh, because it truly is the softest thing I’ve ever laid hands on. I want to rub my cheek against it… “Yes, please!” I enthuse.

  Three women in our vicinity sigh as Carey bends down to examine another blanket, presenting his tight little ass to the store. Hey, I’m practically his sister, but I do have a pair of eyes in my head. And the guy has a tight little ass. Just the way it is, I’m afraid.

  “You’re breaking hearts again,” I inform him.

  He grins. “You two are the only women I’m interested in.”

  And again, onlookers are sighing. If he’d meant it in a romantic sense, it would be worth a sigh, sure. But that’s not what he means. He’s actually not seriously interested in any other women—because he’s become a bit of a male whore. But that’s not my fault!

  “Why don’t you take your favourite women out for ice cream then?” I suggest.

  “I would love to.” He takes the stuff I want to buy out of my hands and walks over to the cashier. All female eyes are on him.

  “You are so lucky,” one of them murmurs at me.

  And they’re right. Carey is the best. I have no idea what I’d do without him. Seriously.

  I trudge after him, and as I stand next to him at the checkout, he puts his arm around my shoulders. The woman checking him out—in more ways than one—goes green with envy. But that’s just Carey. We have a much more affectionate relationship than we used to. He’s my best friend, my little brother, my family. He’s the person I can always rely on. And my little girl, too. Every gi
rl needs somebody like Carey Tilman…

  I wake up because my bed is wet. Over the past few weeks, our baby girl has been lying on my bladder, so I’m not surprised that now—Oh, wait! That hurt! Bending as much as I can with a beach ball-sized lump for a belt, I smell the wet patch on my sheets. I think my water just broke!

  I wake up Carey, who calls Sheila, picks up my bag, runs to the car, and starts driving, only to realize I’m not with him a mile down the road.

  He comes back yelling out the window, “Fuck, Mac! I’m so sorry!” After slamming the car into park, he helps me into the passenger’s side while I laugh away.

  “Classic, Carey,” I tease him. “Nothing can go wrong with you on the job—OH MY GOD!” The next contraction interrupts my laughing fit with painful intensity.

  When we get to the hospital, they take me straight to a private room. Carey stays with me till Sheila arrives. She’s going to be with me when I give birth, because I can’t make Carey do that. Help his crazy quasi-sister-in-law through pregnancy? Sure. Attend the birth of his niece in all its bloody, gory glory? No way. He offered, of course. But I wouldn’t do that to him.

  When Sheila arrives, Carey gives me a grumpy look. He’s not happy with my decision. Poor thing. He doesn’t even know he definitely does not want to be here for this. “Mac, I don’t want to leave.”

  “Go, honey. It’s better if Sheila helps me through this,” I tell him.

  He takes my face in his hands. “Tell me you don’t want me here.”

  I look down. “Carey…”

  “Tell me. If you don’t want me to stay, I’ll leave. But if you’re just sending me away to protect me, forget about it. So, tell me, which is it?”

  “I want you to…”

  But I can’t bring myself to say it. He nods and sits beside me, taking my hand. “That’s what I thought.”

  Sheila gives a little shrug and leaves the room.

  “Okay, time to rock this,” Carey says brightly. Thirty seconds later, I’m crushing his knuckles.

  “Oh, that asshole!” I scream, breathing through a contraction like we practiced in the exercises in my pregnancy classes. “Call that motherfucker, Carey! Let him hear what he’s done to me!” But Carey doesn’t, obviously, because Hunter hasn’t spoken to us once in the past six months. Not on the phone, not on Skype, and not by email. We’ve heard no news from him, not even by snail mail.

  I know Hunter talks to Shane sometimes, but Shane will only say that we need to deal with this on our own and he’s not getting involved. And I’m actually grateful for that, because it means Hunter doesn’t know I’m pregnant. Or that, right now, I’m delivering his—our—baby. No, strike that. My baby. Just my baby.

  “I hate him!” I yell. “And I hate you, too, Carey! You bastards are such freaking giants, and that’s why I have a baby elephant inside me!”

  “You’re doing great, Mac. Keep breathing like you’ve been practicing,” the nurse says.

  Like a champ, Carey holds my hand, wipes the sweat off my forehead, and brings me water and ice chips. He encourages me, tells me I’m great, that he’s proud of me, that I’m going to be a great mom. That he loves me and can’t wait to see his niece. That I can count on him.

  And I thank him for it by screaming at him, cursing him, and crushing his knuckles. What a great deal he signed on for here.

  “You’re doing great, Mac,” he whispers in my ear. “Not long now, doll.”

  “Stop calling me that! I’ll call you a sex doll if you don’t fucking stop!” In the haze of it all, I don’t understand why the doctor and nurse have to smile.

  “Okay, Mac, when the next contraction comes, push!” the doctor instructs me.

  What, now I have to push, too?

  “Carey, you can help her when I tell you to,” the doctor says, speaking quickly. “Do you want to catch the baby?”

  “No!” I scream.

  “Yes!” Carey shouts.

  “I do not want you near my vagina, Carey!” I shout.

  “But my niece—”

  “You can hold her after I put on some clothes! Until then, focus on my upper body. That’s a command!”

  He nods, resigned to his fate.

  And then I push. Who’s idea was it to have this baby naturally? I’m going to kill that person! Why couldn’t I have a C-section? I beg for the epidural then, but allegedly, it’s too late. Sure, fucking sadists! You just enjoy watching me suffer! You’re servants of evil! I decide I hate them all. Especially Carey, because he looks so much like Hunter, the asshole! God, I hate him!

  When is this going to be over? I want to go home and sit on the couch with some ice cream. I just want this to stop.

  “Push again, Mac!” the doctor shouts.

  And even though I don’t want to, because I don’t want to give this asshole the satisfaction of bossing me around, I do. I push with every new contraction until I’m so exhausted I can’t push anymore. With the next contraction, the nurse leans onto my belly, helping me push, while Carey and the doctor hold my legs.

  “I can’t do this,” I moan again and again, but they’re not listening. We’ll have to talk about this later! How can you force somebody to give birth like this? What exactly is so wrong with the baby just staying inside my belly? Forever?

  “We can see her, Mac! One more time, and it’s over.”

  One more time. I can do that. I push until the doctor says I can stop. I’m confused, but I have to trust the guy knows what he’s doing.

  “Okay,” he says, “with the next contraction, push as hard as you can.”

  “You said one more time!” I wail.

  Carey wipes my tears away. “Shhh, Mac. You’re doing great.”

  “How do you know?” I hiss. “You’ve never seen a birth before!”

  His face is white, and he looks just as exhausted as I feel. Poor thing, I think in a fit of compassion before I have to push again.

  “The shoulders are clear,” the doctor announces.

  Carey lets go of my hand and steps past the sheet at my waist into the forbidden zone. The doctor takes Carey’s hands and puts them in position just in time for Carey to catch his little niece. The expression of awe in his eyes keeps me from yelling at him for seeing my vagina. Judging by the look in his eyes, he doesn’t even realize I have one at the moment.

  The look on his face is familiar to me. It’s the look you have when you fall in love. And Carey Tilman is falling in love with his niece this very second. My heart bursts with happiness. Carey cuts the umbilical cord, and the nurse puts my little baby on my chest. I stroke her gently, not wanting to break her.

  Carey comes over, puts his head on my shoulder, and together, we look at our new family member.

  “She’s perfect,” he says, stroking her little fingers.

  They take her away from us one more time. While they clean me up, Carey watches the nurse like a hawk, making sure they treat our little girl well.

  “What do you want to call her?” the nurse asks as she hands her back to me all clean and bundled up.

  I look at Carey. “Hazel Claire Tilman.”

  Carey swallows. He gets it. The H is for Hunter. The C for Carey.

  Carey bends over me and kisses my forehead. “You’re the best, doll.”

  He tenderly takes his niece into his arms, so, so gently—only real gigantic men can be this gentle. She’s tiny in his arms, and yet it is obvious she has nothing to fear. He’s going to protect her. Forever.

  Just like her dad, once he pulls his head out of his ass.

  20

  Hunter

  The damn sand is starting to annoy me. I’ve been here nine months. Most of the others are out for seven months at a time. But I guess I’m out of luck. One more month, and I get to go back to the States. They’re not making me go to Germany but to Virginia, Marine Base Quantico.

  Virginia is far enough away from San Diego, but that actually isn’t on my mind. I’m over Mac. Yes, truly. Once and for all. I’ve del
eted her from my brain. Yeah, that’s it.

  I call Shane, but he doesn’t pick up. Automatically, my fingers dial Carey’s number.

  “Hunter?” he asks as soon as the call goes through.

  “Yeah. How’s it going?”

  “Fuck, Hunter! How could you go that long ignoring us? Mac had her baby yesterday!”

  I hang up, as if my fingers are acting of their own accord.

  What did he just say?

  Mac had a baby? Mac was pregnant?

  The crushing feeling is enormous. Deep inside me, there must have been a glimmer of hope that we would make it one day, Mac and me. But now she has a fucking baby with my dad. Fantastic. Technically speaking, the kid’s my half brother or sister. I should be happy about that, right?

  Instead, I feel a profound terror inside me. Dad got my girl pregnant.

  Not my girl, I have to remind myself. She never will be now. I’ve lost her forever.

  I put my head in my hands and wonder how I managed to ruin my life like this. I gave up FORECON to get far, far away from Mac. And I don’t have Mac because she’s my dad’s girlfriend. I’m not talking to my brother—my best friend—because he’s on Mac’s, not mine. I haven’t spoken to Killian in ages, either, not since Joey died. That life seems so far away I can’t even remember what it’s like.

  Over here, everything is surreal. The moon dust covers everything, making everything look the same. There must have been beauty here before, but now things look bleak. We know what we’re fighting for. We’re fighting to make the world a little safer, to make sure our women and children at home are a little safer, and for our brothers who have died in battle, so they didn’t die in vain.

  But after nine months, you start to wonder how naive you were to come here. Did I actually think this was a great big round of paintball? An adventure, even? I shake my head at my own stupidity. This is far from a safe, fun game. This is deadly serious. Especially for the Marines taking over the army’s task over here. We’re trained to work in water, not on land. But there’s no water here, as far as the eye can see.