“Are you hungry?” I asked.
“Not really,” she said.
Another signal that something had gone drastically wrong today.
“Well, I can put it in the fridge, and you can eat it whenever you do get hungry,” I said.
“Sounds good.”
“Less than two months and we’ll have our bundle of joy in our arms.”
Hailey turned her face toward mine, and I could see the shadow of a smile playing on her lips.
“I think she’s going to have your eyes,” I said.
“And I think he’s going to have your height,” she said.
“I still think it’s a girl.”
“It feels so wrong to call it a girl. I really think it’s a boy. And I’m Mom. This child’s blood is coursing through my veins. That’s a thing, you know.”
“What’s a thing?” I asked.
“Mothers knowing the gender of their child before an ultrasound tells them. Most mothers have an instinct, and it’s usually right.”
“Where did you read such crap?” I asked, grinning.
“The internet,” she said.
Hailey hunkered down into my body as we leaned back on the couch. She pressed the button that shot out the bottom of the couch, so our legs were propped up. We leaned back into the reclining couch as I held her close to me, her hand on my stomach and her head on my chest. I pressed kisses to the top of her head as I ran my fingers through her hair, coaxing her body into a relaxing state before I sighed deeply.
“Feeling better?” I asked.
“You always make me feel better,” she said.
“Well, soon we’ll have a small little baby to make us both feel better,” I said.
“You’re getting excited, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Are you not?”
“Of course, I am. But, I’m also pregnant. I’m sort of ready for all of this to be over.”
“I can only imagine. Is there anything I can do to help you out?”
“Not really. This feels wonderful,” she said.
She hummed into my chest as my fingers continued to dance along the soft tresses of her hair.
“Do you ever think about John?” Hailey asked.
“You’ll have to be more specific as to why you’re asking that question,” I said.
“I mean, now that we’re pregnant. Do you ever wonder what he might have thought?”
I felt tears prickle the backs of my eyes as I drew in a deep breath.
“All the time,” I said.
“Do you think he would’ve been happy for us?” Hailey asked.
“Where’s all this coming from?”
“Just answer the question. Do you think he would’ve been happy?”
“I think he would’ve been ecstatic to have been an uncle. I’d like to think it would’ve prompted him to do even better with his life, so he could set an example for our little girl.”
“Little boy,” she said.
“Someone really asked some questions about John’s paintings today, didn’t they?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she said with a sigh. “It was the first person I’ve ever talked with who pointed out the pain in his dual paintings.”
“Which I assume he asked questions about.”
“Yep.”
“Hailey, I’m so sorry,” I said.
“It was bound to happen.”
My hand began massaging the back of Hailey’s neck, pulling a moan from between her lips.
“I know there’s a question you want to ask,” I said. “Why aren’t you asking it?”
“Because I’m not ready for the dialogue it’s going to prompt.”
“What if I promise you I won’t prompt it?” I asked.
“You’re capable of something like that?”
I could feel her grinning into my chest as I chuckled.
“I promise I won’t prompt any conversation about it if you ask the question, so I can settle your mind. You need to eat, but your mind is too preoccupied.”
I could feel her turning my words over in her head. Anything to get her to open up to me about what happened was fine in my book. And if I had to promise I wouldn’t press her about it, then that was simply what I had to do. I had to make her comfortable. I had to realize that she compartmentalized and dealt with things differently than I did. I wanted to hash things out, get it all out on the table, and formulate a plan. But Hailey kept things cooped up until she could emotionally handle them before she talked.
Which could take days, weeks, even, if it was bad.
“Okay,” Hailey said.
“Okay. So, what’s your question?” I asked.
“Have you ever wondered what happened to those drugs?” she asked.
“What drugs?”
“The drugs that girl was giving away. Remember that?” she asked.
“That was the night those guys came into the studio, right? When John intervened?”
“Yeah. The conversation today ran me through those events, how John got tangled up in all of this and how maybe it is my fault he’s dead.”
“Don’t you dare do that to yourself,” I said. “It is nowhere near your fault that John’s dead.”
“But if I had just given those men the money they were looking for, he would still be alive, right?” she asked.
I pulled Hailey upright and forced her to look into my eyes. I gripped her chin to keep her from looking away from me. I wasn’t going to allow her to travel down this road again. I wasn’t going to allow her to shovel blame onto her shoulders when she had to business carrying it.
“Look at me,” I said.
“You promised,” she said breathlessly.
“I’m not pressing you with questions. I’m settling this debate once and for all. The only people who are responsible for John’s death are the men who shot him up in that alleyway. John made a choice, and his choice was to protect you. No matter the cost that came with that. It was a testament to his character and to the man he grew into despite his past with drugs. Don’t you dare shoulder that blame. It’s not yours to carry.”
I watched tears crest Hailey’s eyes before she collapsed into me.
“Shh. It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m right here. Everything’s going to be okay.”
She sobbed into my chest, and my heart broke for her. It never occurred to me that answering questions about John’s artwork would prompt this type of emotional response from her. I knew she was pregnant, and she was dealing with hormones, but this was something else altogether. Worry and panic flooded my chest as I held her tightly, trying to get her to settle down, if only for the sake of our child. I ran my fingers through her hand and massaged her shoulders. I rubbed her back and pulled her into my lap.
“It’s okay, Hailey. I promise you, it’s all okay.”
I rocked her side to side, my arms encompassing as much of her as I could. I could feel her body growing weak, giving out in its riled emotional state. Her sobs were settling down, and her body was no longer shaking. I could feel her breaths evening out as her sniffles came to a halt. I pressed kiss after kiss onto her cheek and in her hair, trying desperately to give her the solace she sought after such a long, hard day.
It wasn’t until soft snores were coming from her lips that I laid her down on the couch.
I laid her down gently and propped a pillow underneath her head. I took her shoes and socks off, tossing them into the corner of the room. I slid her pants down her body as my eyes caressed her skin, taking in the fullness of her beauty before I covered her with a blanket. She was battling something, something big and deep within her. I bent down and kissed her reddened forehead, silently pleading with her to talk with me. I wanted to be there for her and comfort her in whatever had happened at that damn gallery today. But I couldn’t make her talk, and I knew trying to would only make things worse.
“I’m here whenever you’re ready,” I whispered.
I took the food I bought and stuck it in the fridge. I’d lost my appetite for the takeout I’d bought, and opted for an apple instead. I sat at the kitchen table and listened to Hailey’s soft snores as the summer wind whipped against the windows of the house.
I couldn’t shake the worry that had built up around my heart, nor could I get rid of the panic that flooded my veins. She still wasn’t being truthful with me. She was still holding something back. This was more than someone asking her a few simple questions. She was dredging up things we had long since put behind us.
Maybe it wasn’t about the questions that were asked and instead about who was asking those questions.
Had someone from John’s past come into the gallery today? Had someone threatened her? Surely Hailey would tell me if someone had threatened her.
But as I sat there and stared at the couch Hailey was sleeping on, that idea made more and more sense.
I had to figure out who the hell had come into the gallery today.
Chapter 8
Hailey
“What do you think about this?”
Anna held up a package of gender-neutral onesies, and I nodded my head.
“Looks good to me,” I said.
“Do you guys have bottles yet? Or are you going to be breastfeeding?” Anna asked.
“Breastfeeding, definitely. I’ll leak way too much not to,” I said.
“Then you’ll need pads for your bra and a pump.”