Finding Me (25 page)

“Do you feel that?” Abby cries. I look up at her and nod. “Say something, Max.”

He raises his single eyebrow, exposing my favorite Max expression for the first time, sending my heart on a path of destruction.

“Say something,” she urges impatiently. Abby grabs his hand and plants it beside mine.

“I grew up with brothers,” Max begins, standing beside us with obvious discomfort. Abby and I both laugh as the baby begins wiggling even faster.

The moment is too right, too familiar, and I slide my hand from her stomach, and without looking at either of them, I move toward the kitchen. It’s only seconds before I hear Max instruct Abby to be careful and see him hold out a hand as she crosses into the kitchen.

“So how are you feeling?” I ask, pulling a chair out for her. “You look amazing!”

“Good, the exhaustion is starting to return though.”

“What sounds good?” I ask, grabbing a pile of take out menus from the kitchen cupboard, realizing as I do, that too many things are beginning to feel comfortable.

“Actually, what really sounds good are your chocolate chip pancakes,” she admits with a guilty expression.

“I actually got stuff to make them when Kendall and I went shopping Tuesday, so you’re in luck.”

Max produces a large mixing bowl and then turns to the fridge, returning with eggs and milk, adding to the familiarity.

“Okay, so I have a favor to ask of you guys,” Abby says, her voice, a note higher than normal has my eyes turning to look at her in curiosity.

“I need someone, or maybe even both of you would be good. Maybe if he hears it twice it will make him feel better.”

“Hear what?” I ask.

“Well, okay, so Jesse needs some reassurance that he’s not going to hit the baby.”

“He’s worried about being an abusive father?” I ask, trying to keep the concern shooting through me out of my voice.

“What? No!
No
! Of course not!
No
,” she cries, moving her chair to face us. “Okay, I did kind of word that wrong, huh?”

We both turn to look at Max who affirms with a nod while cutting open a bag of chocolate chips. My eyes rotate back to Abby as I measure out the baking powder.

Her head drops slightly and then snaps back to me. “Okay, he won’t have sex with me!” she cries. I choke on the chocolate chip I just dropped in my mouth and cough as she continues. “Not since we went to the ultrasound! He’s worried he’s going to hit her.”

I quickly begin shaking my head before she can ask again.

“Why are you saying no?” Abby whines, seeming genuinely surprised by my refusal.

“Because, no,” I exclaim. “That sounds like a great topic to discuss with your OB.”

“Harper, you know it would be fine.”

“There are books, and articles, and real qualified doctors to discuss this with.”

“Max, will you talk to him? Please?”

“Uh, no,” Max responds quickly, closing his eyes and shaking his head, like he’s hoping to dispel a mental image.

“Oh, are you cooking, Ace?” Jameson asks, walking into the kitchen wearing only a pair of sweatpants that hang low on his hips. His sandy blond hair is disheveled and his eyes are bright. “Pancakes!” he cries gleefully.

“I thought you had to work today?” I ask, watching him look over the contents on the counter.

“No, I’m on vacation today and Monday, and then next Friday and Monday too.”

“How’s Kendall?”

“She’s just getting dressed. She’s tired, but seems fine,” Jameson answers, coming over and snatching some chocolate chips. “I’m looking forward to pancakes.”

“They’re
my
pancakes. You go get your, I-just-had-sex self back in your room,” Abby huffs.

I stifle a laugh that grows when I see the confusion on Jameson’s face mixed with just enough guilt and pride to reveal that she’s right.

“Yeah, I don’t want to hear about it,” she growls.

Jameson doesn’t act remotely phased as he sits at the table and pulls out his phone, scrolling over the screen.

“Do you think one of your sisters would talk to him?”

“No, Google it if you won’t talk to your doctor.”

“Harper, I need you!” she whines. “I’m not letting you leave next week. Just stay. Please? Baby Adalynn is going to need you. I’m going to need you. Jesse will likely depend on you.”

“Kendall will help you mastermind a plan,” Jameson offers, lifting his head to look at Abby. He stands up and heads to the fridge, retrieving a carton of orange juice, then turns and silently offers Abby a glass. She responds with a quick smile, which quickly fades into another glower.

I can’t hear this conversation, let alone be a part of it. Not now, because I’m feeling the warm comfort of home enveloping me, and I know that it’s partly just a façade. I know that if I stay, it will be a matter of time, maybe a week, or a month, but at some point, I will freak out and wonder if I’ve made the right decision again. Not to mention how things would be with Max.

“She’s not the one whose help I need.” Abby’s words are so quiet I can barely make them out as I drop cylinders of batter into the pan.

I refuse to turn around and verify their authenticity, hoping that if no one responds, they’ll float past unnoticed.

I’m pretty certain the others are thinking the same thing as a stifling quiet fills the kitchen.

“Do I smell pancakes?” Kendall asks, coming into the kitchen. I steal a glance at her and find her looking no worse for wear, which has me completely confounded. She walks to the table and takes a seat on Jameson’s lap, seemingly oblivious to the tension of the room.

“Abby! You look terrific! Is the baby moving? Can I feel her?”

“She’s napping at the moment. She prefers to sleep during the day and then wiggles all night. Jesse’s a little terrified.”

“It’s because you’re moving and it rocks her to sleep,” I explain, flipping pancakes as Max pulls down a stack of plates and grabs a handful of forks from the drawer beside me.

“See!” Abby cries. “You could totally talk to Jesse!”

“Talk to Jesse about what?” Kendall asks, taking a drink from Jameson’s glass.

My eyes fly to her in an attempt to urge her to change the subject and to do it quickly, but she’s looking at Abby and my look of warning goes unseen.

“This isn’t going to be a conversation I want to hear is it?” Jameson asks as I place a plate of pancakes on the table.

“No. See if you can distract her with food,” I half tease.

“Harper! I just want to have sex!” Abby cries, leaning her head on arms that are folded on the kitchen table. Jameson looks at her and then to the pancakes and places three of them on her plate.

“If you guys would talk, it would solve
your issues
!” Abby says, picking her head up and waving her fork between Max and me.

Words are on the tip of my tongue to dispel her comment when the front door closing redirects my attention.

“Happy morning!”

I turn with the spatula raised in my hand to see Erin dressed and made over with perfection. Her eyes land on me first, traveling down my pajamas and back to my hair tied in a pony to my face that’s still void of makeup. Her lips turn up in a wide smile.

“Here, sometimes I find alcohol helps me deal with her.” Jameson passes me a glass with a quick smile.

I bring it to my nose, recalling the few mixed drinks of his I’ve tried. Just the smell of it burns my throat and makes my empty stomach clench.

“Hey, Baby,” she says, turning her attention to Max, who’s currently unloading the dishwasher.

I don’t hesitate another second. I take a long gulp of the liquid. It burns. It burns to the point I nearly choke. I wince, fighting my need to cough by taking another pull.

“Harper, don’t drink that! They’re disgusting and make it difficult to walk for an hour.”

“Harper?” Abby repeats, looking from Kendall to me. Abby never joined in calling me Ace. I’ve never asked why. It’s never bothered me to have one person that I consider to be like family calling me Harper, aside from my mom’s family, but my eyes fall to Kendall as well because my sisters
never
call me Harper, even when they’re upset with me.

Erin’s attention turns to Abby, looking confused by her presence. “Are you another sister?”

“No, Erin, this is Abby. Abby, this is Erin. Erin and Max are dating.” I take another drink as Kendall completes the brief introductions. “Erin, would you like to join us for breakfast?” Her tone is cordial but lacks the warmth she usually exudes, but I still feel slightly betrayed that she’s welcoming her.

“It’s like almost three,” she replies, looking at Kendall with confusion.

“You date Max?” Abby repeats the words with disbelief, not allowing the conversation of meals and times to continue. “How long have you guys been dating?”

I hate that I focus on hearing the answer to the same question I’ve been wondering.

“A few months, we actually met at the gym. It was totally ironical,” Erin replies.

Ironical! Ironical?
I can’t help but turn and shoot an accusing look to Max that he dutifully avoids.

“I used to watch him all the time! I mean he’s fuckin’ hot right?” She pauses, and I glance over to find that she’s waiting for a response to her rhetorical question, her eyes trained on me for an answer.

Abby looks at me and then back to Erin. “Fuckin’ hot, yeah … So then what?” Abby continues, taking another bite of pancake.

“What?” Erin asks, staring at Abby’s plate. “Did you put chocolate in those? Do you realize how many calories are in those things?”

I finish the last of my drink and turn to see Kendall grab another pancake from the plate.

“You said you met at the gym and you stared at Max because he was hot,” Abby coaxes, focused on the conversation at hand.

“Yeah, well we started talking, and then one day his dog nearly knocked me over. I swear doesn’t he look like a bear? I keep telling Max we need to change his name.” My knuckles graze the bottom of the pan as I turn in alarm to see Max’s reaction to her proposing that they rename my dog.

His gaze is on my hand and quickly moves to my face, waiting for a reaction. I turn away from him, scooping the pancakes on the griddle up. Before I move to the table, Jameson stands and brings the pancake plate over.

“Do you think a bear would attack a dog like that?”

I bite my bottom lip to try and keep the giggle in my throat from bursting. I feel it begin to rescind and then glance at Jameson as I set the pancakes on the plate. His eyebrows are drawn together, and his eyes blink rapidly, like he’s trying to make sense of her words. I’m a goner. The alcohol makes it feel really good to laugh, far better than it should since I’m laughing at something that the others have found far less amusing.

“Her pancake, it’s shaped like a penis,” Jameson lies, trying to excuse my laughter, which only makes me giggle harder.

“Okay, so Zeus nearly knocked you over…” Abby talks over my laughter in an attempt to pry the rest of the story from her.

“Yeah, he’s huge right? Such a man’s dog.”

I glance at Zeus seated against the island and work to stifle another giggle.

“Yes. Very manly,” Kendall says, making me drop my face to silently chuckle again.

“The rest is history,” Erin finishes.

I look over at Kendall, still amused by thinking of Zeus being half bear and a man’s dog, to see Erin head to the fridge.

“Do you have any oranges, babe? My new cleanse only lets me eat oranges and cucumbers.”

“I don’t think so,” Max replies while glaring at me. I’m still trying to control my laughter, but his evident annoyance about my behavior makes me frown and tilt my head to the side, challenging him to object to the humor of the situation.

Abby looks from me to Max then spears a bite of her pancake. “I always pegged you to fight for what you want,” she says, looking at Max.

“I did. I have what I want,” Max clips, dousing me with a wave of reality and pain that mingles with embarrassment.

“Obviously,” Abby retorts. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.” She pushes her chair back and leaves while Kendall and I both list a dozen objections.

“Wow, you put peanut butter on your pancakes too?” Erin asks, stopping in front of Abby’s abandoned chair.

Abby shakes her head a few times and leaves. I turn too quickly and feel the room spin before gaining my footing and heading in the direction of the door.

“A—Harper,” Jameson calls, extending his hand with a pancake.

I ignore it and hurry to catch up to Abby. I find her sitting in her car, her hands covering her face.

“I can’t believe him!” she screams. Her hands fall from her face as I drop into the passenger seat. “I’m going to have Jesse come and punch some freaking sense into his thick head.”

Reaching across the console, I grip her hand within my own. “I want him to be happy.”

“Neither one of you are happy!” Abby yells, making me realize that a pregnancy side effect of hers is brutal and unfiltered honesty. “You ran away because you didn’t know how to fix things, and now you’re spending all your time trying to repair someone that you
can’t fix
. Fix this, Harper. Fix you and Max.”