Stay With Me (2 page)

1

June 2014

San Francisco

The beeping of the alarm clock spread through the room. I stretched to smack the contraption that had interrupted my splendid dream—I had been lying out in the sun, holding a fruity cocktail. It couldn’t be further from my reality, though, here in San Francisco where I had to get a move on if I didn’t want to be late. I opened the shutters like I did every morning, letting in the morning air, crisp and pleasant, and took in a deep breath before heading toward the bathroom to get ready to face another day.

Once freshened up, I prepared breakfast: orange juice, scrambled eggs with bacon, and a blueberry muffin. Then I went to wake up my little girl, Olivia.

“Olly, love, breakfast is ready,” I said while caressing her head.

“Mommy . . . I
sleepy
.”

“I know, but you need to go to school.” I opened the blinds to let the light in. “Come on, lazy girl! I made you eggs!”

“The way I
like
them?”

“Yes, with the bacon nice and crispy.”

In a flash she got up and ran toward the kitchen, screaming as though possessed by demons. That’s how she was. One second, she was sleepy, and the next she was circling the house like a tornado. She was a Ferrari, going from one to one hundred in two seconds.

I made her bed and got her dress ready. She loved to do it herself, but this morning I couldn’t risk letting her stand in front of the closet for an hour.

I caught up to her and sat across from her at the table, grasping a muffin and watching her eat.

Even as an infant, she ate as though there were no tomorrow. I had to admit I loved cooking for two.

“Mommy, what’s wrong?” she asked with her mouth full.

“Nothing, my love, keep eating,” I answered, pouring coffee into my cup.

She nodded and continued eating, savoring every bite.

We left the house shortly before eight. The preschool was close to where we lived and before we got there, we stopped by the café. My café.

With many sacrifices, I’d succeeded at opening up my little dream: a café that sold desserts. Café for You, I called it. It was located on the ground level of a small building I’d bought.

I loved my house and I adored my café. It was exactly as I’d always hoped it would be: warm and welcoming. The guests could feel at home, and in little time, I’d managed to attract some steady customers. I also made small desserts for restaurants and private parties to order.

My cupcakes were very popular, which was especially satisfying for me.

I’d inherited my passion for sweets from my mother. When I was growing up, we spent weekends making every type of delicacy. She taught me so much, which was invaluable, because I never finished pastry school, having only attended the first year. The basics she taught me proved fundamental.

I didn’t make wedding cakes. I limited myself to the things that came out well: simple cakes, moist cheesecakes, tender muffins, and my trademark—cupcakes.

Café for You had been open for two years. Olivia was a year and a half on the day of the grand opening, and the work had corresponded perfectly with my life as a mother.

I had two girls who worked for me: Lauren opened up at six thirty, and her task was to put sweets in the oven or take out cold ones from the refrigerator to set up in the display case. I arrived after taking Olly to preschool, and while I closed myself in the pastry kitchen, Lauren tended to customers. Karen arrived around two and worked until closing time at seven.

When Olly got out of school, she’d come and have a snack with me, then go upstairs with our babysitter, Jenny, who had become like family to us. She took care of Olly until I got back. On Saturdays, Olly visited Aunt Margaret and Aunt Joselin, who brought her home right after dinner. Sundays we spent together. She and I on our own, and we always did something fun and different. One Sunday at the zoo, one at the park, another one shopping.

In all of this, the ghost of her father floated in my mind. How could it not, since I would see him every time I got lost in my daughter’s eyes?

They were like two peas in a pod. Like her father, Olivia had blue eyes, with shades of gray. Her hair was black and straight. And she too wrinkled her nose with a silly gesture when she didn’t like something.

I tried to drive away my memories of Andrew. I stopped in to the café to greet Lauren, who was serving breakfast, and let her know I would return after dropping by the bank.

I took Olivia by the hand, and we left.

“Mommy?” She tugged at my arm.

“Yes, love?”

“
Why
don’t I have a daddy like my friends at school?”

Hearing that question felt like a punch in the stomach. It wasn’t the first time she’d asked me, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

I tried to smile, taking a bit of air into my lungs. “Love, your daddy is traveling around the world, earning the money we need to live in our beautiful home.”

She nodded like she did every time. She was too little to know I was lying, and yet too old not to ask the questions.

“OK, but do you think he can
come home
one day?” she asked, full of hope.

“Maybe one day, yes.”

The day went by quickly. Shortly before closing, the door swung wide open.

“Hello, kiddo!”

“Oh, Carl, what a surprise. I wasn’t expecting you this evening!” I cried out as I walked toward him for a hug.

Carl was like a father to me. Seeing him always made me happy.

“My missus needs sweets, and so we came by.”

“Where’s Mag?” I asked as I went behind the counter to prepare a tray of their favorite goodies.

“She went in through the back to give Olly a kiss.”

“Oh, good. Olly will be happy,” I said as I smiled.

“How much do I owe you?”

“Carl, quit joking! You’ll have to walk over my dead body before taking out your wallet in my place!” I smiled as I gave him the tray. “Tell Margaret I even included a cream doughnut.”

“Thanks, kiddo, but if you keep spoiling her like this, I’ll need to widen the house doors in a few years.”

I burst out laughing. “If your wife heard you, your dinner would be bread and water for a week!”

“If she heard me, I’d be ruined. You know that woman has me by the balls!”

“Who has you by the balls, Carl?”

We both turned toward the back of the café where Margaret appeared.

She looked at us with her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow. “You were talking about yours truly, right?”

“Guilty!” we answered simultaneously.

“You can bet whatever you want that it’s me and only me who has this man by the balls,” she said as she gave her husband a slap on the behind.

These two were a trip. Despite having been married for twenty years, they still seemed like two kids in love. I often found myself wishing for a solid relationship like theirs, or like the one my parents had. Not that I could complain about my life. I’d achieved so many of the goals I’d set for myself.

But I’d been missing the comfort of a relationship. After Andrew, no one had managed to fill the void he’d left in my heart. Many times I’d asked myself how things would have gone if I’d told him the truth four years ago. If I hadn’t sought refuge at Mag’s house. If . . .

The thoughts triggered a chain reaction. The memories of the day I’d discovered I was pregnant invaded my mind.

“We’ve received the results of your blood test, Ms. Evans.”

I analyzed the expression of the man in front of me, afraid of what the response could be. I’d lived in terror for days: there was the light-headedness that hadn’t left me for two weeks, the fatigue and strange lack of appetite, inexplicable for someone who loved eating more than anything. They’d been warning signs. I’d worried and even thought I might have something severe. Instead . . .

“I’d like to extend my sincere congratulations, Ms. Evans. You’re pregnant!” The doctor’s lilting voice was in complete contrast to my state of mind.

I felt as though someone had used my stomach as a punching bag.

I had just enough time to locate the wastebasket before the vomit made its way up.

“Vomiting is a symptom,” I heard the doctor say.

In my head, though, a single word reverberated: pregnant!

How could this have happened? I’d been on the pill for three years, before he’d even entered my life.

“There must be a mistake. I’m on the pill! Those results can’t be right.”

The doctor now understood his announcement hadn’t been a happy one.

“Have you been . . . I don’t know . . . to the dentist lately?” he asked with a thoughtful expression.

Memories of my swollen cheek bombarded me, of Greta making fun of me because I spoke as though I had a potato in my mouth, of the shooting pain in my gums. How much time had passed? Maybe a couple of months.

“I didn’t go to the dentist. I only had an abscess in my tooth that I took antibiotics for.” I tried to remember the brand of the tablets. “Augmentin.”

The doctor shook his head. “Did you use any other protection besides the pill during that time?”

“No.”

“Voilà, mystery solved. Antibiotics diminish the efficacy of birth-control pills.” He looked as though what he said were obvious. Well, it wasn’t to me. I never read the instructions that came with medication.

I’d started taking the pill to regulate my cycle and to reduce the pain caused by cramps. I hadn’t been sexually active on a regular basis, and whenever it had happened, I’d relied on condoms. But with Andrew . . .

“But I didn’t miss my period last month!” I was certain he was mistaken. I couldn’t be pregnant. Not now, and certainly not by a man who didn’t love me.

“It was probably only discharge. Now if you’ll make yourself comfortable, I’ll give you an ultrasound.”

I didn’t say a thing as I undid my jeans, pushed down the top of my panties, and lay down on the table. But I wasn’t there, not really. My mind was in transit, trying to grasp what I’d done to upset karma. What I’d done to be punished again. Not that having a child was a disgrace, but in my case, it certainly wasn’t ideal.

I was twenty-two years old and had been living alone for three years. I was working as a waitress in a restaurant downtown, and could barely pay the rent and the bills. The thought of having to take care of a small, defenseless creature was terrifying. I could barely take care of myself. And I certainly couldn’t rely on the father.

Damn it.

How could I ever tell Andrew, who’d made his feelings abundantly clear how he didn’t want any strings attached, that he was about to become a father? He would think it had been a move to trap him. On the other hand, I’d been the one to reassure him that I was on the pill, and that we were not running any risks.

Damn it!

I felt a light pressure on my lower abdomen. I turned toward the doctor, who had one hand on the monitor.

“Do you see this?” He pointed at the screen. “This is your child.”

I focused my gaze and tried to make out something among the shadows, but I didn’t see anything.

“Everything looks gray and black,” I confessed.

“Here”—he took a stylus and made a small circle—“this is your baby boy or baby girl.”

“It looks like a little blueberry,” I realized, looking more closely.

“That’s the size. You’re approximately in your seventh week. I’m basing this on the baby’s size, not knowing exactly when your last period was.”

He got up from his little revolving chair and took off his gloves. “You can get dressed, Ms. Evans.”

I struggled getting dressed again. Everything was spinning. I did everything mechanically and met the doctor at his desk.

“What do you intend to do, Ms. Evans?”

“What do I intend to do?” I repeated, not understanding what he meant.

“I’m referring to the pregnancy.” He took in a breath. “Do you intend to bring it to term?”

Oh!

“I . . .” I looked at the image he’d printed out for me. My blueberry. “I’m keeping it.”

2

“Hey, doll, are you there?” Mag’s high voice brought me back to the present.

“Of course,” I lied.

“So you’re one of us?”

I looked at her, having no idea what she was referring to.

“You didn’t hear a word, did you?”

“I’m sorry, Margaret. I was thinking.”

She snorted and turned to her husband. “Carl, dear, wait for me in the car.”

“Zoe, see you tomorrow. Thanks for the sweets.”

“Bye, Carl!” I expected a tongue-lashing from Mag. She’d figured out what I’d been thinking about. Or better, whom.

“Zoe, you have to stop this. Four years have passed.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was thinking about the . . . cupcakes.”

“Don’t try to fool me, kiddo.” She closed the door to the store and flipped the sign over to “Closed.” “You were thinking about him!”

I lifted my eyes toward the ceiling. “No,” I protested. “I was thinking about the day I discovered I was pregnant with Olivia.”

“And you were thinking about him,” she stubbornly insisted.

“Maybe a little.”

She sat on a stool behind the counter, leaning her elbows on the white marble counter. “You have to stop. He left. He left you alone to raise your daughter.”

“He doesn’t know anything about Olivia!”

I had the habit of justifying his actions. He hadn’t promised me anything, and our
relationship
had ended up exactly as he said it would. The fact that I’d fallen in love with him was my problem, not his. And I certainly couldn’t hold it against him that I’d raised Olivia on my own. It’d been my choice. And it was wrong to blame a man who had no idea he’d become a father.

“That was fortunate! He was an asshole.”

“No, he was just honest.”

“Stop taking that idiot’s side. I no longer want to hear a single word in his defense. And I expect you to start dating someone!” Mag yelled, banging her hands on the counter. “You’re twenty-six years old. You’re gorgeous. It’s time for you to turn the page and forget him.”

It was impossible to forget him. I saw his eyes every day in Olivia’s gaze. I would always think about Andrew, because in spite of it all, he’d given me the most important person in my life. It was improbable that I’d stop loving him with the passage of time.

How pathetic.

“Mag, I beg you, don’t start this again. It’s not my fault that I haven’t met anyone who’s right for me.”

She looked at me. “You’re blind. You see nothing but him, despite the fact he hasn’t been in your life for a very long time.” She took a breath before proceeding. “How can you not notice how many guys come in here just to talk with you? To admire your smile? Look at Lucas.”

“You need to go to a good eye doctor, Mag.” I reflected upon her words. “What does Lucas have to do with it?”

She put her hands on her face with exasperation. “He comes here for you. How can you not notice that?”

“You’re talking nonsense. He comes here because my cupcakes are the best.”

“Believe what you want, but remember that Andrew won’t come back. You need to move forward. And if you don’t want to do it for yourself, do it for Olly. Give her the chance to have a father figure in her life.”

“She has Carl . . .”

“Zoe, don’t be an ostrich. It’s useless to bury your head in the sand. You know I’m right.”

I hated when she brought up my dating life—or lack thereof—and it happened at least a couple times a month. Therefore, according to my calculations, I was exempt from further lectures for at least two weeks.

I loved Mag as though she were my aunt, but sometimes she could be too intrusive.

She knew how much it pained me to talk about
him
, yet she still chided me, even though she knew it wouldn’t achieve anything. Because despite all the time that had gone by and my countless efforts, Andrew’s face was sculpted in my memory, and I had accepted a long time ago I would never be able to erase it.

“I’ll do it, Mag!” I cried out. I would have done anything to change the subject.

She pointed a finger at me. “This time you’ll go out with someone, kiddo. If you won’t do it of your own free will, I’ll be the one to set you up.” She’d said this to me countless times over the past two years, and I’d always managed to escape an evening organized by her. Luckily.

“But that aside, I came by to tell you that Ash is coming back to the city. She’d like to plan a dinner to introduce us to her fiancé.” She shook her head as though she didn’t understand. “I’m curious to meet him. He gets my utmost respect for putting up with my niece.”

“Margaret!” I reproached her.

“Oh, come on, Ash is a jerk. Don’t you think I know that? She’s always been one, and if it’s even possible, the accident made her worse.”

“She’s suffered a lot,” I calmly explained.

“Nonsense,” she said. “But I don’t want to ruin your evening rehashing things. I’m only saying that in order to put up with that hyena, this guy has to be a saint.”

I smiled and rested my hand on top of hers. “I’ll be there; just let me know the day so that I can arrange a babysitter.”

She nodded and got up from the stool, but before leaving, she looked at me and smiled. “You have two weeks’ time to find yourself a fellow to go out with . . . otherwise, I’ll see to it.”

“That sounds like a threat, Mag.”

“Oh, kiddo, it’s a promise.”

Once I finished cleaning up the store, I went upstairs where my best friend was looking after Olly, since Jenny had asked for the day off. I walked in quietly out of fear the little one had already fallen asleep. In fact she was passed out across Alyssa’s legs. It was already past eight. Knowing Olivia, she’d done her utmost to wait up for me, but in the end she’d crashed.

I signaled to Alys not to move and picked Olivia up into my arms. She grumbled, but fell right back asleep. I carefully placed her on her bed, pulled up her blankets, and placed a kiss on her strawberry-scented hair.

Before going back into the living room, I stopped to look at her for a moment. I adored watching her sleep. She was so beautiful.

So similar to her father. She’d gotten her cheerful personality and dimples from me. When her eyes lit up, I thought about those few happy moments that Andrew and I had shared. Even though ours hadn’t been a conventional relationship, we’d had our good moments, and I held on to them tightly and relived them whenever my nostalgia for him took my breath away.

It happened more often than I cared to admit.

Our story, if it could be called that, lasted a year. In that time, he’d never taken me out to dinner or for drinks. We’d simply never gone out in public. I was his little secret. I was conscious of the fact that he saw me as just a girl like any other who warmed his bed in a city that wasn’t his own.

He’d never tried to make me believe I was something I wasn’t, and one way or another, I’d managed to accept it. And yet, it wasn’t enough to prevent my disappointment at not being his woman. The woman he would introduce in public without any shame. The fiancée he would one day introduce to his family with pride.

It wasn’t me.

I would have never been the one.

I’d even seen him with another woman, but I knew better than to let him know.

I’d just finished my night shift, and before going home, I’d decided to pick up a DVD. Andrew hadn’t called, and I thought he had some business dinner. They happened often; events like that were why he was currently in San Francisco.

I was happy to see him whenever I could. It’d been two months and I knew I’d already bypassed “not growing attached.” I cared about him a lot and was pleased with whatever he was willing to give me. The important thing was being together.

To feel his hands on my skin. His lips on mine and enjoy his body moving on top of mine.

I laughed. I’d become one of those pathetic women who contented themselves with crumbs. The same women I’d judged for years.

And yet . . .

Andrew had rocked my world and especially my soul. I’d given myself to him without hesitation, knowing perfectly well that sooner or later I would get hurt. Deeply hurt.

When I left the video store, I decided to take the long way home, thinking a walk would do me good. The March evening, while chilly, was pleasurable.

It was during that walk that I saw them.

Andrew was with a beautiful blonde girl. She was tall, sophisticated, and walked on vertigo-inducing heels as though it was the most natural thing in the world. The opposite of me. They looked so in sync, as though they’d known each other for years. I asked myself if she was the fiancée whose existence he’d denied.

The girl stopped and turned her head toward him. They said something to each other. She shook her head, and Andrew tenderly placed a hand on her cheek. I saw nothing else. That had been enough, and I turned my back, walking home with my heart racing. Despite knowing we weren’t exclusive, what I’d just witnessed had not been OK.

But if the me before Andrew would have ended it, the me after him hoped to hear from him as soon as possible.

I shook my head and turned out the light in my bedroom. How foolish I’d been to fall for a man who would never be able to give me what I truly deserved. I went to back to the living room.

“Hey, Zoe, I left you some pasta in the microwave. Should I warm it up for you?” Alys asked from the kitchen.

“Yeah, I’m starving. You’re a sweetheart.”

“I know. If only Scott would see that too!” she grumbled.

Exhausted, I let myself fall into a chair. “He still hasn’t called?” I asked.

“No. I really don’t understand. We had such a nice time at dinner. He walked me home and said, ‘Talk to you soon!’” she recounted with frustration.

“Well, four days have gone by. Maybe he’ll call you on Friday,” I said as she placed a giant plate of macaroni and cheese in front of me, which I inhaled.

“If he really liked me, he wouldn’t have waited this long. Damn it, I must repulse him!” she said hopelessly, putting her face in her hands.

“He was the one who asked you out. Don’t worry, he’ll call.”

“You think?” she asked, her eyes replenished with hope.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m certain of it,” I declared as I stacked macaroni on my fork.

“Let’s hope you’re right.” She watched me, a smile now on her face. “How about your day? How’d it go?”

I chewed a mouthful of macaroni and gulped some Coke. “It was normal, except for Mag’s usual lecture.”

Alys laughed. “Any blind dates on the horizon?”

“She threatened me! Can you imagine?” I spoke with my mouth full, then swallowed. “If I don’t find someone within two weeks, she said she’ll see to it. She wants me to go out with a stranger.”

The mere idea of going out with a man I didn’t know made my skin crawl.

“That woman won’t give up until you find a boyfriend. It’s time to make her happy.”

“What?” I asked, my shoulders sinking.

“Come on, Zoe. It’s time to move on.”

I puffed, annoyed I’d just lost the support of my best friend. “You too now?”

“I think the time has come for you to start looking. That’s all.” She shrugged, stood, and grabbed her purse. “Time to head to the hospital. I’ll come by the café in the afternoon.”

I nodded, wiping my mouth with a napkin. “Oh, I forgot to tell you the news!”

Alys stopped with her hand on the door handle and turned toward me.

“Ashley is coming home to introduce us to her future husband,” I said, expecting a colorful reaction.

Her expression turned sour. She’d never denied her lack of fondness for Ashley. “Tremors are about to hit San Francisco now that the witch is returning!”

She made a monkey face and stuck her tongue out.