"Stephanie?" she snapped into the phone when I didn't answer. "Are you there?"
I shook my head, came out of my daze, and asked her a question in return that I'd wondered about for years. "Why didn't you abort me, Maris?"
She let out a huff of indignation that was completely fake. "That's a terrible question ask your parent."
"No, it's really not," I said calmly. "You didn't want me, so why even let me be born?"
"That wasn't an option," she scoffs.
"Well, why not?" I pushed at her. "Roe v. Wade was settled law. It was clearly legal. It was an easy solution, and you seem to think it's good enough for me to consider. So tell me, Maris...why didn't you abort me?"
She didn't answer me and her silence sort of told me the truth. Oh, she'd considered it, and considered it hard.
I took a wild guess. "It was too late, wasn't it? By the time you found out you were pregnant, you were too far along."
"I don't have to answer that," she said in the most profoundly small voice I'd ever heard her use, and I knew I'd guessed correctly.
I did nothing more than quietly disconnect the call and knew I'd never answer another one from her again.
This also spurred me into action, and I shed the hopelessness and frustration over my job loss like fucking dried skin that was no longer needed.
What remained underneath was tender, vulnerable skin, so I conjured up a suit of titanium armor for protection. I was good at that.
This isn't the first time I've lost a job, and I've always had confidence I'd bounce right back again. And I always have. The only thing different this time is I have a baby to worry about, which now means the pressure is much higher.
So I've been sitting here at my table for several hours, trying to figure shit out. How long can I afford to stay in this apartment? While I didn't make a crap ton of money at the museum, I made enough to pay my bills and put a little into savings each month.
What are my chances of getting a job, especially with health insurance? I'd turned down the job in Greensboro because Lucas was my primary consideration. I didn't think it was fair to cut him out of the pregnancy.
But now I'm not sure I can afford to take those considerations into mind when trying to come up with a game plan. I've got to worry about the baby first, me second, and Lucas after that.
At least I think that's the order. It may have been different before that call from my mother, but that's definitely the order now. I can't afford to be sentimental.
A banging at my door startles me so badly I let out a little yip of fright. And the fear doesn't let up either as someone is now jiggling the doorknob. My heart starts beating faster, but then I hear Lucas calling out, "Stephanie...are you in there? If so, please open the fucking door."
I push up out of my chair quickly, my eyebrows furrowed at the panic I hear in Lucas's voice. I run to the door and swing it open, catching a flash of the extreme worry on his face before it immediately melts away into overwhelming relief. He jerks me into his arms and mutters, "Thank God. You're okay?"
His arms tighten and he hugs me for long moments with his lips pressing kisses into my hair. I finally collect myself and wiggle free of his hold, tilting my head back to look at him. "Of course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?"
"We were supposed to meet for dinner an hour ago," he says, and my eyes cut over to my clock. It's now 7:30 P.M.
Looking back to Lucas, I tell him, "We didn't have dinner plans."
His eyebrows shoot up. "Uh...yes we did. I sent you flowers at work, told you to meet me at Evo at 6:30 P.M."
I purse my lips and nod in understanding. "Aha. Well, it appears you sent the flowers to the wrong place."
"What?" he asks in confusion as I step back to allow him in. He continues in a frustrated tone, "I've been trying to call and text you. Isn't your phone on?"
"It probably is," I say flatly as I turn to the kitchen. "But it's in my purse in my room and I wouldn't have heard it, as it's on vibrate."
"Jesus, Steph," Lucas says in exasperation. "You scared the shit out of me when you didn't show up at the restaurant and you wouldn't answer the phone. I thought something happened to--"
"I'm fine," I cut in before he can even finish that thought. "We're fine."
"Then what's going on?" he asks again, this time with a growing irritation in his voice, and he takes in the papers on my table. "What's all this?"
"Bills," I tell him, then amend to clarify, "paid bills. I'm trying to update my budget."
"Because?" he prods.
"Because I lost my job today. I didn't get any flowers because I wasn't there."
"Fucking hell," Lucas mutters as his face morphs again from annoyance to sympathy. "I'm sorry, babe."
I shrug. "It is what it is. I'll figure something out."
"We'll figure something out," he says firmly as he pulls me into his arms and my entire body stiffens. Not because I'm offended, but because he's interfering in what I do best, and that's taking care of myself. He's putting smudge marks on the new shiny titanium armor I just put on, and it's getting ruined.
It shouldn't be a big deal. I should be grateful for his concern, but when it boils right down to it, it causes my stomach to hurt at the thought of depending on someone for anything. My mom just made it clear today that I have to buck up and be strong.
I once again wiggle free and play it off as if I want a drink of water from the tap. I walk over to the sink, pull a clean glass from my cupboard, and fill it. "Want anything to drink?" I ask with my back turned to him.
"Stephanie," he says softly, and I dare not turn around now. I can tell by the tone of his voice that his face is going to be filled with empathy and resolve to be my man who will conquer all my troubles.
Swallowing the feeling of panic, I plaster a bright smile on my face and turn to him. "We should definitely go out to dinner and celebrate. You guys kicked ass in Florida."
Yes, the Cold Fury was on a roll. Weirdly, they lost the first game of the play-offs at home, which was the night Lucas and I got into our first argument. He was not in a good mood that night and I regretted my decision to stay with him. Not that he was an ass to me or anything. He kept his word and didn't take his frustrations out on me. But he wasn't fun to be around and all he wanted to do was just go to sleep. I was totally okay with that, but again...I had to be up early, and because we weren't celebrating, I really wished I'd just stayed at my apartment.
But whatever.
Luckily, the Cold Fury rebounded big time and won the next home game as well as the two against Florida on the road. He just flew back in today and we had plans for him to come over tonight. I just didn't figure he'd send me flowers at work and tell me to meet him at a fancy restaurant, and I screwed that up by not having my phone with me.
Or perhaps I didn't have it with me because I'm subconsciously ignoring Lucas. I knew he'd try to call at some point, and by not having my phone within reach to hear it, maybe I'm just trying to sabotage things with him.
"Stephanie," Lucas says again, softer this time and completely ignoring my statement that we should go out to celebrate his wins. "Tell me where you want my place to be, and I'll go there. I'm not trying to handle you. Just help if I can."
I completely deflate.
Every single fear, anxiety, and doubt I have about Lucas and what he is to me just evaporates. It takes up no more space in my world than the air does, and that's because he just assured me that he'd play by my rules. This man utterly knows me and knows that I have to do things a certain way. Lucas has offered to move into a place where I can designate him to stay, and even though I won't do that, there is security in knowing that I can and he'll be okay with it.
Three steps and I'm in his arms, my face pressed against his chest. He hugs me without hesitation and my arms wrap around his waist. I breathe him in deeply, that particular scent that is all Lucas and is perhaps the best smell in the world.
Turning my face, I put my cheek against him and murmur, "I
'm sorry. Sorry I didn't answer the phone and sorry I won't let you help me. But you get it, right...why I don't want you to help me."
"I get it," he assures as his hand rubs my back. "But I would like to support you, and I'll just do that by saying I'll never let you falter. If you stumble, I'll pick you up, dust you off, and push you on your way."
"Oh God," I mutter, and squeeze him harder. "Stop saying shit like that. You make me want to roll over and bare my throat to you."
Lucas snickers and pulls back to look down at me. "You are fucking amazing. You'll be fine."
"I know I will," I tell him with a confident smile. "I always am, and apparently you won't let anything bad happen to me."
"You know it," he confirms, and I have to admit, that security blanket he's giving me feels soft and soothing.
"Let's go out and eat dinner," I suggest, and damn, I love the way his eyes light up as if I'd just given him the most extravagant gift in the world.
He thinks my time is the most extravagant gift in the world.
"Where do you want to go?" he asks.