Finally, in a matter-of-fact tone, I said, “Well, you have to tell the truth. And the truth hurts sometimes. We just have to accept that.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?” he asked, his voice strained. “I don’t deserve it.”
“No,” I agreed, “but I am a pragmatist, Jared. I always have been. I have always been trying to figure out a way to survive, whether it was on the island or here. I have to view the world that way, otherwise I will lose it. I have to take the facts as facts, the past as past, and I can’t change it, so I just deal with it. Do you have any idea how horrible I feel?” I looked into his gray eyes. “The last time I saw my father, I screamed at him about how much I hated him. He was what he was, Jared, but that does not mean that I didn’t love him. Now I will never have the opportunity to tell him that, and it eats me alive.” I took a deep breath. “Then I look at you, the only person who I felt understood me—who I am—and accepted me. You made me feel like a normal person, even though I’m not. Now,” I continued, wringing my hands in my lap, “I have to deal with the knowledge that you did something to me so heinous, so unforgivable, that I ought to cut you out of my life entirely. So the very first person who is actually my friend, a friend that I made on my own . . . the point is, this afternoon, Marilyn came upon me in the bathroom and saw my belly, and something inside of me snapped when she discovered me. I had to take charge of the situation. I had to tell you on my own terms. I didn’t want you, much less the press, finding out any other way. Granted, I probably should have thought a little bit before I put on my show, but I wanted to be in charge. Do you understand?”
He looked at me with pity and regret, and I glared at him. “Stop feeling sorry for me,” I snapped. “I can’t take it. I just need you to understand what is going on with me.”
There was silence, and then he asked, “So where does that leave us?”
“That’s up to you,” I replied. “You won’t encounter any legal troubles from me. You are welcome to see Emma at any time.”
“But what about you and me?”
I shook my head at him. “I can’t answer that right now. I don’t know how I feel about this—about everything—and I need time to figure it out. At this moment, though, what I can tell you is that there is not a you and me, and you have to respect that, or I will go completely and utterly insane.”
He gave me a sad smile, and I continued. “What I don’t want is for you to put your life on hold for me, because it would not be fair for me to ask that of you. I hate to admit this, I really do, but I do care about you a great deal, and I want you to be happy. If that means you find someone who makes you happy, you should be with that person.”
“I don’t think I can be happy without you,” he remarked.
“You know, you didn’t know me this time last year.”
“I wasn’t happy then, either.”
We walked outside and down Connecticut Avenue until the car picked us up. On the ride back to Blair House we were both quiet, until he turned to me and said, “I’m not giving up, Anabel.”
“No, Jared,” I returned. “I wouldn’t expect you to.” I sighed. “Look, the doctor is going to do another checkup on Saturday, so you may as well come. He’s coming around eight. I know it’s early for a Saturday, but I would like you to be there.”
“Your doctor, huh?”
“Yes,” I said cautiously. “Why?”
“I need to ask you something.”
I looked at him. He seemed to be concentrating very hard on the seat in front of him. “Are the rumors true?”
Ugh, he knew. Still, I feigned innocence. “About what?” I had hoped to avoid this, but Jared wouldn’t let me off that easy.
“About Kevin Miller.”
“Sam pardoned him, if that’s what you mean,” I kept my voice as light as I could. “A bit controversial, really, but again, another reason why I ruined his political career.”
“You know that’s not what I mean,” he said.
“Well, what do you mean, then? I’m tired, Jared, I had a long day.” I avoided looking into his eyes.
“Are you seeing him?” He was trying to sound nonchalant, but I knew better.
“Well, he is my doctor,” I pointed out. “I see him a lot; he doesn’t have a whole bunch of patients at the moment.”
Jared sighed in frustration, so I relented. “No, Jared. As much as my brother would like me to, I am not, nor will I ever be, dating Kevin. Sam agreed to take him on as my doctor since he was free to make house calls, and it gives him time to get re-established in his practice. There’s nothing going on with us. You’re the only person I’ve ever felt like that about. You were the only one with whom I‘ve even considered what it would be like to have a relationship. So much so that I cannot even countenance the idea of being with someone it actually makes sense to be with. Does that make you feel any better?”
His face relaxed. “Yes.”
“I’m glad one of us does.”
Chapter 14—Jared
The answering machine clicked on. “It’s Meghan. Call me back. You know why.”
About two hours later: “I know you’re there. Call me, Jared.”
And then another hour later: “Honey, it’s your mom. I saw the newspapers . . . thought you might want to talk . . .”
And finally, Meghan called me again. “Look, if you don’t answer, I’m coming over there.”
So I picked up. “What?”
“Don’t you talk to me that way!” my sister hissed. “I wanted to make sure you hadn’t done anything stupid. Well, stupider than get a teenager pregnant.”
“I take it you read the papers this morning.”
“‘I take it you read the papers this morning,’” she mimicked. “Yes, Jared. I did. I read the papers, watched the news, and had several people at work ask me about what my opinion was of your little escapades with Sam Sallinger’s sister!”
I rolled back over in my bed. I hadn’t gotten up yet. “I appreciate your concern, Meghan, but I am fine, aside from feeling like I just got hit by a truck.”
“So you’re hung over?” I could hear her disapproval.
“No,” I groaned. “I haven’t had a drink since that blasted island. That’s how this whole mess started.”
“I want to see you,” she demanded. “Can you meet me tomorrow?”
“In the afternoon, yes. I’m seeing Anabel in the morning.”
“Oh, for the love of God,” she moaned. “Fine. Do whatever you want. Just call Mom back, she’s having a breakdown.”
I hung up on her, and pulled a pillow over my eyes. After I left Blair House, I had come home and gotten in my bed and hadn’t moved since.
Out of all the things to come out of Anabel’s mouth, the last thing in the world I expected her to say was, “You knocked me up, Jared.”
Or, “Do you want to marry me?” The scorn that accompanied that question had bothered me. She didn’t need to get so defensive. Things were impossible with us, anyway. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder . . .
Did I want to marry Anabel?
I remembered a conversation I’d had with Sam, many years ago. He and I were at some function, and we were both watching my date, a gorgeous redhead, chat up the bartender. He grinned at me. “So what’s the deal with this one?”
I had shrugged.
“Are you ever going to settle down?”
“Maybe if I find a girl who’s worth it.”
“That is the problem,” he lamented. “There are girls you sleep with and then there are girls that you marry.”
“You lucked out,” I said, clapping his shoulder. “You found one who is both. I doubt I will ever make enough effort to find one of those.”
But Anabel, well, she was complicated.
It could be worse, I reflected. Considering everything, it was shocking that I hadn’t gotten a girl pregnant before now. And the fact that it was her . . .
I definitely liked Anabel. She was really funny and smart and endearing. She was also oblivious to the fact that she was gorgeous. I normally dated beautiful women—but they always knew how hot they were.
On the other hand, she also antagonized me in a way that no other woman had ever done before—which was why she had made me so angry the first day of the hearings. It was also why half of our conversations on the island had resulted in one of us snapping at the other, which caused the other to fire back. My temper was as bad as hers; worst of all, she knew how to push me. Maybe our problem, I reasoned, is that none of our fights had ever resulted in make-up sex. If we could factor that in . . .
“What is wrong with you?” I asked myself. “That’s more wrong than the rest of this combined.”
At least life with Anabel would be a challenge. If she wanted me. And I knew, even if I didn’t want to admit it to myself, that I wanted her. More than anything.
The moment she had told me she was pregnant, life made sense. There was no one for me but her.
Screw it. I called Sam.
He answered his phone with, “Why are you calling me?”
“I need to talk to her.”
“You can talk to her tomorrow.”
“Is that Jared?” I heard her say in the background.
“Put her on, Sam.”
“Anabel, no, I’m not—”
“Sam,” and Anabel sounded dangerous here, “give me the phone.”
Sam sighed. “You have five minutes.”
So then she came on. “Hi.”
“You okay over there?”
“I guess,” she said. Then she continued in a thunderous whisper, “But Sam and Alexis brought over all of these people to coach me on what to say to the press. I’ve been listening to all sorts of lectures on how inappropriate my behavior was yesterday.”
“Did they at least give you a how-to manual on how to handle it next time?” Thinking about her show for the cameras made me smile.
“No, but I was made to feel incredibly guilty for exposing my brother to such negativity.” She paused. “So what’s up?”
“I need to ask you something. How long has Sam known?”
“How long has Sam known what?”
“You know what I mean. Don’t do that. How long has your brother known that you’re pregnant?”
“Oh,” she stammered. “Well, let’s see. They took me from Caereon and brought me here, and I just laid around for a while, and after I had been here for about a month it dawned on me that I couldn’t remember the last time I had my period . . .” She paused. “I thought it was just from stress, you know? But then something didn’t seem right, and I started to get all nauseous and one day I threw up my breakfast.” She fell quiet again.
“And then, Anabel?” I prompted her.
“And then, Jared,” she continued, “two more weeks went by and I asked Alexis what I should do.”
“How did she take that?”
“Not well at all,” she admitted. “I came up to her and said, ‘Hey, Alexis. How do you know if you’re pregnant?’ But I didn’t have anyone else to go to, and she was mortified. So then I took like three pregnancy tests just to make sure. And then I had to tell my brother.” She laughed bitterly. “Our conversation started out the way most of our conversations go nowadays: ‘Sam, you’re not going to like this . . .’”
“I see,” I digested this.
“I hadn’t told them about us,” she confided. “Not at that point. I mean, Sam resigned pretty much right away, and we were dealing with all of that. So when I told him about us, he did not react well, as I’m sure you can recall.”
“I suspect you’re alluding to our phone conversation that night.”
“I did eavesdrop, a little,” she admitted. “But I had implored him not to tell you about the baby, and he did that for me.” She sighed. “I just didn’t want to upset him, you know? But now all I do upsets him.”
“Your brother loves you,” I barked. Why was it every time I tried to say something comforting to her it made me sound like more of a jerk?
“I know,” she retorted. “Love doesn’t have anything to do with it.”
“Anabel—”
“Did you want something? My five minutes are almost up.”
I sighed. “I was thinking about what you said yesterday.”
“Which part?”
“The part where you asked me if I love you.”
“Oh,” she stammered. “Jared, I don’t expect you to—”
“I have an answer for you.”
“I oughtn’t—I shouldn’t have asked,” she sputtered.
“What are you scared of?” I asked her.
“I’m scared of what I might do, depending on your answer,” she admitted. “Why are you calling me on the phone to tell me this, anyway? Don’t I deserve a face to face?”
She seriously made me mad. “Well, forget it then.”
“No, wait, I—”
“No, clearly you don’t care about what I have to say,” I reprimanded her.
“Jared, I didn’t mean—”
“Anabel, I don‘t have time to argue semantics with you.” And with that, I hung up on her.
Then I threw my phone down. If there was one thing I’d learned about Anabel and me, it was that together, we could ruin any moment.
Chapter 15—Jared
The next morning I woke up mentally berating myself. I needed to cut her some slack; pregnant women weren’t known for their rationality. As I showered, I resolved to be nice to her, no matter what. Getting dressed, I told myself that this was the mother of my child and that I would show her some respect. It was with this mindset that I left my apartment with a spring in my step.
I was mildly entertained when I showed up at Blair House and a scowling Alexis pushed past the Secret Service guy and glared at me. “Good morning, beautiful,” I greeted her. “You’re looking fantastic, as always. I can only assume that because you’re answering the door, you want some alone time with me, but sadly, you have a husband.” I made a show of looking over her head. “Where is Samuel, anyway?”
“Nice to know you haven’t changed,” she spat. “But I don’t really understand what you’re doing here, Jared.” She ran her perfectly manicured fingers through her hair, and then crossed her arms. “Nobody wants you here, you know. Not even her.”
I leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “Oh, maybe not her. But there’s always you.”
“Shut up, you idiot,” she hissed. “Do you not realize there are people listening to our every conversation?”
“Unlike you, I have nothing to hide.” Nothing like she did, at any rate.
She stared at me, disgusted. “You aren’t going to be here long, are you?” She was a beautiful woman, especially when she was angry. Having made a career out of making Alexis angry, I was intimately acquainted with this side of her.