Authors: Katherine Owen
Tags: #contemporary fiction, #ballerina, #Literature, #Love, #epic love story, #love endures, #Loss, #love conquers all, #baseball pitcher, #sports romance, #Fiction, #DRAMA, #Romance, #Coming of Age, #new adult college romance, #Tragedy, #Contemporary Romance
“Rob, don’t do this. Not here.”
“Then when? I’m asking you to marry me. We can make this work. We can be a family.”
I stare at him for a long moment. “I’m not Holly,” I whisper.
He closes his eyes at my harsh words, and then opens them, and effectively pushes me away. He looks wounded as if I’ve slapped him. “True,” he says quietly. “You don’t have to be.” Rob leads me back to the bed and tucks me into the covers again. “Okay then. I’ve got class,” he says, getting this hardened look. “I’ve got to go.”
I’m not the only one who lies.
Then he leans over the bassinet, strokes the baby’s left hand with his own, and bends down and kisses her forehead. I’m reminded of the picture he’d shown me the day before of how to handle a newborn. “Kiss their forehead. Brush it with your lips. It shows great affection and doesn’t spread unnecessary germs,” he’d read aloud to me. Now, he looks over at me. The smirky smile is noticeably absent. I feel its loss at a gut-check level. “I’ve got to go. I can’t stick around and watch this circus show unfold.” He looks back once more at the baby and whispers goodbye only to her.
Then he’s gone.
Marla gives me a similar beseeching look. “You want me to go after him?” She sounds as conflicted as I feel. I don’t even stop for a moment to examine that thought too closely.
No.
Instead, I force myself to smile as a conscious way to eliminate this despondent feeling that seems determined to take a firm hold on me now.
“No.” My new word for the afternoon comes out as a guttural, painful cry. “Doesn’t change anything, does it?”
“Well, he’s probably projecting his expectation of Holly on to you,” Tremblay says callously. “I know who he is—
was—
to her. Forgive me. It’s just he and Holly had quite thing going. Half the time she skipped class to be with him as if I didn’t know
that
was going on.”
I want to hate her in that moment for bringing my sister into this—for so effectively destroying the poignant yet earnest proposal and inexplicably painful good-bye with Rob that just transpired. For just being Allaire Tremblay and ruining it—smashing the dream as well as the romanticism and chivalry of it all. I actually shiver for a moment at the realization that I’ve just turned down Rob Thorn’s proposal and agreed to hand my baby over to this person.
In the next minute or two, Tremblay seems to recover. Her smile gets wider and almost genuine. She laughs softly. “I am a witch—a bitch, actually. Do what you want, Tally.” Her smile fades. “But I can tell you this much; you will be choosing between your ballet career and a child. That’s the way it works.”
There’s the double-entendre in her words. A clear threat. I know it, so does she.
I lean back against the pillows and take a necessary breath. It’s all a bit much, and now I just want it to be over. I don’t want to think anymore. I want it to be done. Marla slides in on the edge of the bed next to me and grabs my right hand.
“Allaire, can you give us a few minutes please? I need to talk to Tally.
Alone
.”
Tremblay doesn’t even bother to correct Marla for using her first name. Instead, the woman sighs deep as an implication of her frustration, probably with both of us, but acquiesces with a slight indication to the Kaleidoscope power that shifts with each progressing moment and backs out of the room as if she’s doing Odile’s last scene in
Swan Lake
. I bite my lip so I won’t laugh out loud when I see this. The levity breaks up the dead seriousness of the moment for me.
“You don’t have to do this, you know. You don’t. It’s a big decision. It’s big deal. You can wait. That baby is rightfully yours until you sign the paperwork and forty-five days have passed. I want you to think about it, Tal.
Hard.
Like you’ve never thought about it before.” Marla gets this anguished look. Her green eyes look turbulent, and this crevice forms between her eyebrows and gets deeper by the second. “I just want you to be okay with it all. You’re going to have to live with it. I just want to know that you can.”
“I know.”
I glance over at the bassinet. The baby stirs. Her little fingers twitch, and she opens her eyes and begins to fuss about. I’m strangely calm as if I know what she needs. Maybe it’s instinct. Maybe it’s just part of the whole process of giving birth to a child who actually makes you feel like you can do and be anything for one magnanimous moment. Maybe that’s what comes with bringing life into this world—it defines the meaning for you at last. No matter, how many other times so much gets taken away from you in life; it’s this—this one defining moment—that essentially matters. I already know that I’ll remember it forever, regardless of how everything else turns out.
This one moment.
“Tremblay will destroy me,” I finally say in defeat.
“Yes.”
I try to smile as if we’ve just discussed the possibility of rain versus sunshine. “How’d it go with Charlie anyway?”
“He wants me to move to L.A.” She looks away and then glances back at me. “I told him I would.”
I nod and keep my tone upbeat and smile wide. “That’s good.”
“You should take Rob up on his offer and move in with him. It’s cheap rent. You’ll be gone most of the time.”
“We’ll see. He seems a little pissed off right now.”
“Well, you’re not Holly. He
does
need to realize that.” She gets this wan smile. “He’d be good for you. I think he’s a nice guy.”
“He is. He just helped me deliver this baby. You’d think he’d taken Lamaze class with us. He was…amazing.” I swallow hard as memories from eight hours earlier rush in on me. “He’s a good guy. I don’t want to destroy him, too. You know my capacity for being nice is limited.”
“Not true.” Marla walks over to the window and stares out. “It really didn’t go the way we planned, did it?”
“No.” I take an interest in bedspread pattern knowing Marla’s gearing up for one of her more profound lectures.
“I just have to say this to you before you give her up. Make sure it’s what you want. Don’t do it as a way to get back at Linc because if that’s what you think you’re doing it’s all wrong. Wrong on all levels—”
“That’s not it. It’s not. If I keep her, I put his career at risk. Dating somebody a lot younger is one thing, but an illegitimate child with some girl from Paly…would ruin everything for him.”
“God, you’re so altruistic. Does anybody else know this about you?” She tries to smile.
“No. Don’t tell them either.”
She looks uncertain. “I saw him. He just asked me all about you and wanted to know how you were doing less than twenty-four hours ago.”
“You saw him?” I don’t quite hide the agony in my voice. I cover my face with my hands, so she can’t see it.
I can’t get caught up in thinking about Linc.
It’s hard enough as it is.
“He’s doing all right. Consumed with baseball. Trying to keep his head above water and keep the fame at bay. He’s fine, Tally. Yet he wanted to know how you were. You’re the first one he asked me about when I saw him.”
I lift my head up and look over at Marla. She still doesn’t get what’s just transpired. “Tremblay
knows
Linc is the father. I slipped up and said his last name. She
knows
, Marla.”
“Maybe she didn’t hear you.”
“Maybe not. Regardless, I still need to protect him—an illegitimate child wouldn’t exactly help his baseball career. His not knowing is the best thing for him; he can deny it, if it ever comes out.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. Linc would never deny his own child. You really need to think this through. Don’t decide right now. Let’s take her home. Take a few days to decide what you really want to do. You don’t have to return to NYC Ballet for three weeks and by then everything will look and feel different.”
“You’ve forgotten about Tremblay.”
“Tell her you want to take some time with your—”
“If that’s what you want,” Tremblay says, strutting into the room in her usual definitive style but now with newfound purpose. If she didn’t hear Linc’s name earlier, it’s obvious that she has now. “That’s fine, Tally. Take a few days. I just wanted to give you a viable solution so you could continue to pursue your dance career.”
And there it is—the subtle threat again.
Marla seems to suddenly understand; she actually flinches at what the woman’s just said. Tremblay remains firmly in control while I too practically wilt under her sympathetic, all-knowing gaze.
The power between us shifts again.
“Come. Let’s get out of here,” Tremblay says, taking full control. “I have a car. I can drop you and the baby off. I’ve brought some things for her: an outfit, a baby carrier, formula, and a fully-stocked diaper bag. Surely, between the three of us, we can figure things out with one little baby. Go shower and get dressed, Tally. We’ll get the baby fed and dressed as well.”
A perfect plan.
I glance over at as Tremblay picks the baby up and holds her close and coos at her. Marla arches a questioning eyebrow in my direction. Neither one of us has seen this maternal side of Allaire Tremblay, not in all the years we’ve known her. I give my best friend the signal that we’ll talk later and head to the shower after gathering up the fresh clothes that Marla’s brought for me. I smile at the black T-shirt and jeans. I’m thankful that she’s allowed her fashion sense to wane for the occasion. I just want to go home. Yes, the perfect plan is to go back to the apartment and think things through. Allaire Tremblay seems amenable to that idea, too. I breathe a sigh of relief, somewhat hopeful for the second time in two days that maybe everything will work out for all of us.
* * *
I re-enter my hospital room to find only Allaire Tremblay. She stands at the window.
No Marla.
Tremblay
holds an expensive baby carrier containing a recently dressed-up baby Cara.
She’s prepared. I am not.
I have got to give her that. Allaire Tremblay has thought of everything. She smiles at me. Her joy is obvious from the situation, and it even reaches her golden eyes today.
The shower’s respite from the turmoil of my situation dissipates. I begin to envision my future if I were to keep this baby in my life. I give up ballet and get a job slinging drinks in a bar because I didn’t go to college like my father wanted. Or, I marry Rob. For what? Friendship? And Rob pays for everything while I dance my little heart out and possibly make it without Tremblay’s support. Yet everyone pays at some level to get me there, including this baby. Probably Cara, most of all. I close my eyes.
No.
I shake my head side-to-side.
No.
When I open them, I discover Tremblay carefully studying me.
Her body trembles ever so slightly. She seems to be holding her breath.
She wants this so badly. Cara. She wants Cara so badly.
The power between us again.
I swallow hard and subtly try to breathe.
“So,” she says taking the initiative. “Lincoln Presley is Cara’s father. Does he
know
? Did you tell him? This could get complicated down the road if he wanted custody.”
And the power shifts again in her favor.
I, of course, haven’t really thought about this aspect. I was too intent on protecting Linc in some naive but altruistic way. By giving up the baby, he would never have to know, and I could move on and pretend it never happened.
Shit.
How stupid have I been?
Tremblay gets her recognizable critical teacher stance and looks at me intently now.
“He doesn’t know.” My words come out breathy like I’m being strangled.
“So you didn’t tell him. Tally,” she chides. “Were you just going to give her up to this other couple and go on your merry way?”
I nod and even though she’s mocking me, I accept it. “That was the plan.”
“Hmmm…not a very good one. So, he doesn’t know.” She gets this thoughtful look. I shake my head. “An illegitimate child wouldn’t bode well for his baseball career. It wouldn’t look good that a twenty-three-year-old baseball star has knocked-up a seventeen-year-old girl. My God, your parents only let you come to New York because I promised them I’d watch over you.”
“He was twenty-two at the time. I was almost eighteen.”
Tremblay waves her hand through the air with her usual dismissive flounce as if to say, ‘
that doesn’t matter’
. She’s probably right about that. I’m reminded of Kimberley Powers.
“My parents don’t know about any of this, and I don’t want them to. Right now, they’re just trying to get over the loss of Holly. I can’t disappoint them like this. With
this
.” I glance over at the sleeping Cara. “With
her
,” I whisper.
I swipe at my face when tears threaten.
Geez, I’m going to cry? In front of her? Get it together. This is Tremblay. Tremblay.
I look around the empty hospital room in desperation.
What’s keeping Marla? Where’s Rob when I need him the most?
I need somebody to help me fend off Tremblay’s attack. This isn’t going at all like I thought it would.
“So why didn’t you tell him? Why isn’t he involved?”
Silence.
All the power has shifted to Tremblay, and I fear if I say anything more—anything at all—it will be irreversible.
“You’re protecting him?” she asks, incredulous. I still don’t answer. “How noble.” She starts to laugh. “Does he
know
what you’re sacrificing for him?”
“I don’t think he would see what I’m doing as a sacrifice. We’re not on the best of terms.” I wince in recalling the last time I saw him at the airport. How I left him standing there because he’d just dumped me just like that. I’ve never gotten over what Linc did even after all this time. Why
am I
protecting him? This slow burn of anger surfaces and starts to wend its way through me all over again at his rejection and how easily he made the choice to protect his career.
And now, I’m doing the same thing.
Tremblay shifts in her dancer’s stance and starts to laugh a little. “I heard Marla’s been working at the Dahlia and Rob did offer support—marriage,” she says with notable disdain. “You
could
keep her. You might make it on your own with Sasha Belmont at NYC Ballet…
without
my help.” She seems to pause for effect while her underlying threat about my career begins to resonate. “Regardless of whether the news gets out about who Cara’s father is, however famous.” She actually smiles at me as she delivers this last part.
Her threats land like acid she’s purposely splashed upon me. I hold my breath for a long ten seconds and attempt to gain back some semblance of control. She’s put it all out there.
She will tell.
And it will most likely ruin Linc’s career as well as mine.
She wants
Cara
. I almost admire her for owning up to this singular contemptible detail that is so intricately tied to her ultimate power over me, but some part of me wants to hear her actually say it.
“What do you want?”
She snorts in exasperation. “I want to adopt Cara. I’ve been very clear on what I want.” She sighs deep. “The question is what do
you
want? You have the talent to take your ballet career incredibly far. Without my help…and if you’re taking care of a baby, it will just take longer, if it happens for you at all.” Her face hardens. She’s just laid down the gauntlet. She’ll tell all if she doesn’t get Cara.
The one thing I can’t abide is taking everyone else down with me. Eventually, Marla would resent the sacrifices she’d be making for me. Rob, too. The lies and keeping secrets would catch up to all of us. Linc’s reputation would be destroyed because I was selfish in keeping Cara and in effect, admitting to the world, she was mine. His.
Ours.
A baby I can’t even provide for. What kind of life is that for Cara
? I take in air and attempt to breathe.