Easy Charm by Kristen Proby
“It worries me, Gabs. What happens when he goes home?”
“I don’t know.”
My honest statement stops him cold. “But you’ve thought about it.”
“Of course I’ve thought about it. I know he’s not going to be here forever.”
“And your home is here.”
I nod. “I know.”
“I am so happy that you’ve found someone who makes you happy,” Dec says with a smile. “But I see this ending with you broken-hearted and that hurts me too. I don’t want to watch you go through that again.”
“He might stay,” I say optimistically. “I mean, yes, he plays baseball, but, you never know.”
He nods, his eyes sober and maybe a little sad. “Just be smart, Gabs. And if he does break your heart, I’m here.”
“You’re not going to threaten to kill him?”
“No, Beau and Eli will do that.” He grins. “I’m the more passive of the three of us.”
“You know, for a big brother, you’re not so bad.”
“And for a snot-nosed, baby sister, neither are you.”
I laugh as he stands next to me and hug him tightly around the middle. He’s so tall, I feel small next to him. “I’m gonna wipe my snot nose on you.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Or, I have a feeling, the last.”
***
I have a very sick little boy on my hands.
“I’m gonna throw up again,” Sam says pitifully. He’s kneeling on the floor of our bathroom, his head hanging in the toilet.
“Okay, buddy, go ahead.” I’m rubbing his little back and holding a cold, wet cloth to his neck. I feel so helpless.
“But I don’t want to.”
“I know, but you’ll feel better after.”
Rhys pokes his head around the doorjamb. “Need me?”
More than anything.
“No, we’re okay.”
Just then, Sam loses his pecan pie in the toilet.
“I’ll bring a bottle of water,” he says and disappears. I had no idea how nice it was to have someone with you when your baby is sick. He hands the water to me, and I take it gratefully.
“Okay, baby, have some water,” I croon to Sam as he sits back on his haunches. He’s breathing hard and sweaty.
Throwing up takes a lot of energy.
Sam cautiously sips the water, looking up at me with water-filled brown eyes.
“I’m sorry you don’t feel good, sweetie.”
“My tummy hurts.”
“I know.” I wipe his face off with the wet cloth and help him brush his teeth, then take him into his room and get him settled in bed. “How do you feel?”
“Tired.”
“Do you feel like you’re going to throw up again?”
He shakes his head no. “Will you stay here until I fall asleep?”
“Of course.” I lean in and kiss his head. He’s warm. Not burning up, but warm. He must have caught a bug from somewhere.
So I sit and sing our song to him, gently stroking his face and hair. His eyes are closed, his cheeks just a little flushed, and his lips are rosy red.
He looks like my baby.
But suddenly, he sits up and throws up, all over both of us and the bed, and immediately bursts into tears.
“What’s happening?” Rhys asks as he runs into the room.
“He got sick again,” I reply grimly, trying to soothe my boy and avoid the vomit. “We’re a little messy here.”
Without missing a beat, Rhys gathers us both into his arms and carries us into the bathroom.
“We’re going to get you messy too. And we stink.”
“You’re fine,” he replies as he sets us down on the closed toilet. “I’m going to go take care of the bed linens. You guys clean up. I’ll bring fresh clothes.”
And with that, he marches out and leaves us to strip out of our clothes, down to our underwear. I toss the soiled pajamas into the hamper, and Rhys passes me fresh ones, not even taking a second to stare at me in my mostly nakedness, and Sam doesn’t even care that Rhys has seen us half naked as I help him into the fresh clothes, then pull mine on too.
“Feel better?” I ask him.
“A little. I’m just tired now.”
“God, you’re heavy,” I mutter as I lift him into my arms and carry him into my bedroom and settle us both into my bed. Rhys will just have to sleep in “his” room tonight. My boy needs me.
Sam is lying in the dead center of the bed and I’m lying on my side beside him, playing with his hair and whispering to him.
“Where’s Derek?” he asks.
“Rhys is getting him all settled for the night.”
“Can he sleep with us?”
“Sure,” Rhys says as he comes into my room and lifts the puppy onto the bed. “I just took him outside, and he’s good to go for tonight.”
He holds my gaze as he strips down to just his T-shirt and underwear and slips into the bed with us.
“Are you sick too?” Sam asks as Derek curls up next to Sam’s legs and with a big, gusty sigh, settles in to sleep.
“No, I just want to hold you and your mom,” Rhys says as he pulls us both against him, Sam between us. “I’m kind of worried about you both, and this makes me feel better.”
“But Mom isn’t sick,” Sam says with a yawn, and I hold my breath, praying that the vomiting is over. But he doesn’t throw up again; he just snuggles against Rhys’s chest.
“No, but she’s worried about you, and that makes me worry about her.”
“Oh,” Sam says with a frown. “But Moms are strong.”
“Your mom is very strong,” Rhys agrees, still holding my gaze with his over Sam’s head. He reaches up and tucks a loose strand of hair that has fallen out of my ponytail behind my ear. “But even moms need someone to look after them.”
“What about you?” I ask softly.
“I have everything I want in this bed,” he replies and I have to lower my eyes so he can’t see the tears that come at that statement.
Ask him if he’s going to stay! Tell him you love him! Stop being a pain in the ass and torturing yourself!
But instead, because I’m an idiot, I simply kiss Sam’s head and settle in next to him, not saying anything.
“I love you, Rhys.” Sam’s voice is sure and unwavering as he says those words that I find impossible to say. Rhys simply smiles softly and kisses Sam’s head.
“I love you too, buddy.”
He loves my son.
“I love you, Mama,” Sam says softly.
“I love you too, baby boy.”
“I’m not a baby boy. I’m a man,” he says with as much indignation he can muster, given how crappy he feels. Rhys and I both chuckle.
“Well, I think that when you’re sick like this, you’re still my baby boy,” I reply. “You were so tiny when you were born.”
Rhys tilts his head to the side in curiosity.
“He loves hearing the story of how he was born.”
“Tell me again,” Sam says, his eyes closed now. Derek is snoring loudly, snuggled between Sam’s legs.
“It was a really hot summer night,” I begin the way I always do. “And I was in my room at Nannan and Pawpaw’s house, when suddenly, my water broke.”
“That’s gross,” Sam says.
“It was scary because you weren’t supposed to come for six more weeks.” I bite my lip as I think back to how terrified I was at the thought of having Sam so early. “But, I’ve come to learn that you’re just an impatient boy.”
“Am not,” he mutters.
“Okay.” I chuckle and kiss his head. “So, I woke Pawpaw up and he took me to the hospital while Nannan called all of the others, and they met us there later.”
“And Uncle Beau and Aunt Charly were in the room when I was born.”
“That’s right. You took your time, though. Twenty-six hours of labor was a long time, but then suddenly, there you were, all pink and tiny, and ang
“Well, I was getting crowded in your belly,” Sam says logically.
“I see. Well, we got you all cleaned off, and the nurse laid you on my chest, and you looked up at me and just stared at me as I talked to you, as if you already knew that I was your mama.”
“It’s because it’s just you and me, against the world,” he whispers softly, making more tears spring in my eyes. God, I’m so damn emotional tonight!
“That’s right,” I whisper back, and glance up to see Rhys watching us, listening intently. “And you were as healthy as could be, even as tiny as you were.”
“I eat all the gross vegetables you make me eat,” he says. He’s so sleepy, he’s going to drift off any second. So, I stop talking and just stroke my fingertips over his forehead, his cheeks, through his hair.
“I hate that you went through that alone,” Rhys says softly when Sam is finally asleep.
“I didn’t. I had my family with me.”
“I know, but it’s not the same. That’s not how it’s supposed to be.”
I bite my lip, thinking about that night not so long ago, and how loved I felt.
“Honestly, I didn’t feel like I was missing anything in that moment. My family was there, loving us so much, and I had him. At the end of the day, he was all that mattered.”
Rhys nods and leans over Sam to kiss my lips gently. “You should sleep too, baby.”
“I know. Are you staying?”
“Do you mind if I do?”
I glance down at my son and his sleeping puppy, then back up at this strong, sweet, loving man. “I don’t mind at all.”
“Good, because you were going to have a very difficult time getting me out of here.”
Chapter Sixteen
~Gabby~
I haven’t just laid in bed and enjoyed the quiet in…I don’t remember the last time. Eva’s been with me long enough now that I feel comfortable leaving the inn in her hands. I heard Sam get up with Rhys about an hour ago, and it sounded like they were headed to the barn to work out.
That Sam enjoys working out with Rhys makes me smile. It’s been two days since he had the nasty bug, but it was gone by morning, and he was back to his old self yesterday.
And now, lying here, I feel like I’m catching it.
Figures.
I haven’t thrown up yet, but I feel a bit queasy. Thankfully, his only lasted about eight hours.
I hope I’m that lucky.
I’m scrolling through my phone, pinning recipes on Pinterest, when it suddenly starts to ring.
Unknown number.
“Ugh, give it up already,” I mutter as I accept the call. “Hello.”
There’s a pause and I’m about to hang up when a man’s voice says, “Gabby?”
“Yes. Can I help you?”
“This is Colby.”
My mouth drops open, and a cold sweat immediately breaks out over my skin. “What do you want? Are you the idiot that’s been hanging up on me lately?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mutters, clearly lying. “Did you get my email a couple months ago?”
“I did.”
“Why didn’t you respond? I want to see my child.”
“I didn’t respond because you signed your rights away, Colby.” I swallow hard and close my eyes, determined to stay bad-ass during this conversation. “There was no need to reply to your email.”
“Look, this doesn’t have to be difficult, Gabby. I was young when I did that, and now I’m curious to meet him.”
“How do you know it’s a him?”
“Because I’m not an idiot. I’ve kept tabs over the years. He should know his father.”
“No. He shouldn’t. His father wanted to have him killed before he was born.”
“We were children, Gabby.” He’s raising his voice now, and I’m simply seeing red.
“We were old enough to have sex, Colby. I was adult enough to get pregnant and raise that baby by myself for seven years. Sam doesn’t ask about you. He’s fine, and you have no legal right.”
“I’m going to see him.”
“No. You’re not.”
I end the call and drop my phone on the bed, cover my face with my shaking hands, and take a long, deep breath.
What I said is true; Colby has no legal right. My father’s lawyers made damn sure that the documents he signed were airtight. He can’t hurt me, and he can’t get to Sam.
But damn it, I haven’t heard his voice since that day in the garden. Back then I couldn’t get enough of his voice.
Today it makes me ill.
In fact, I think I’m going to be sick.
I run for the bathroom and lose last night’s dinner, and then dry heave for long minutes. My eyes are watering, and my stomach muscles are screaming when it’s finally over.
It’s just a combination of the adrenaline from the phone call and this bug that Sam had, and it attacks once more. Jesus, there’s nothing left in me, but I keep heaving uncontrollably.
I lean against the toilet seat, and my boobs cry in protest. Holy hell, they are sore.
When the heaving stops, I drop back on my haunches, breathing hard, and feel the sides of my breasts. Oh my God, they hurt. I must be about to start my period. It’s surely due, I haven’t had a period in…
Holy fucking hell.
That can’t be right.
I stand, rinse my mouth out, splash cool water on my face and stare at my reflection as I mentally count back again. I don’t think I had a period last month.
How in the hell did I miss that?
My phone. I need my phone. It’s still on the bed. So I run out and grab it, then run back into the bathroom, lock the door and call Van’s number.
But it goes straight to voice mail.
Shit.
So I call Charly.
“Hey, sugar.”
“I know you’re probably super busy, but I already called Van and I got her voice mail.”
“Gabby?”
I glower at the phone. “Of course this is Gabby.”
“Why are we whispering?” she asks in a loud whisper, matching my tone.
“Because I need help.”
“Are you in danger?” she screeches.
“No. I need a pregnancy test, and I don’t have one, and I need you to go get one and bring it here. But don’t tell anyone.”
“Gabby, are you kidding me?”
“Shhh!” It’s too damn hot in here. I’m starting to sweat. “If you’re too busy, I understand.”
“Fuck that, I’ll be there in one hour.”
She’s here in thirty minutes.
“It’s Charly,” she calls through the door. “Open up.”
I unlock the door, let her in, then close and lock it behind her and take the white plastic bag out of her hand. “Are you going to watch me pee?” I ask as she perches herself on the edge of the tub.
“I did the first time,” she reminds me with a shrug. “Might as well this time too.”
“It’s weird to have you watch me pee.”
“Sugar, I’ve seen everything on you there is to see. Just pee on the fucking stick.”
I open the box and smirk. “You got the fancy kind that actually says pregnant or not pregnant.”
“I don’t want there to be any doubt of the outcome,” she replies and crosses her legs, as though we’re talking about the weather.
When I’m finished, I snap the cap back on the end and set it on the countertop to let it do its thing.
“Now talk to me,” Charly says. “We have, like, three minutes to waste.”
“My boobs hurt, I threw up this morning, and when I did the math, I haven’t had a period in about six weeks.”
Her jaw drops. “Gabby, you know how this happens.”
“Clearly,” I reply dryly. “This isn’t planned.”
“You know, you’ve always been a planner. Why didn’t that flow over into the pregnancy arena as well?”
&nbs
“Charlotte Boudreaux!” I exclaim and throw the stick in the sink, as if it’s a snake and it’s going to bite me any second.
“I guess that means it’s positive? And I’d just like to clarify, I’m not the one who got you pregnant, despite the way you just yelled my name, as though it’s all my fault.”
“What in the hell am I going to do?” I sit on the toilet and hang my head in my hands, and I’m suddenly nauseous again, but I don’t even have time to turn around and get it in the toilet. I grab the trash can and heave in it for what seems like forever. “I’m dying.”
“Not today,” Charly replies with too much cheer in her voice. “But you are going to be a mommy again.”
“Oh, my God.”
“Tell me you’ve been using protection.”
“Of course we do,” I reply and wrinkle my forehead as I try to remember back. “I’m not an idiot. There was one time that we forgot, but he pulled out.”
“Well, you didn’t forget to ovulate.” She sighs and shakes her head. “Van and I really failed you when it came to sex education, sugar. I knew we should have had that talk with you.”
“This isn’t funny,” I reply softly. “What am I going to do?”
“You’re going to tell the man you’ve been having an intimate relationship with that you’re pregnant and go from there. You’re not in this alone, Gabby.”
“I don’t want him to think that I’m trying to trap him.”
“He’d be an idiot to think that.”
I nod, but I’m not convinced. “I need some time to think. I just need to get my own head on straight before I dump this on him.”
“The longer you wait to tell him, the more it’ll feel like a betrayal when you finally do.”
“How about if you tell him and I go to Tahiti?”
She laughs, then rubs her hand over my back in a big circle. “It doesn’t work like that. If anyone’s going to Tahiti, it’s me.”
“Killjoy.”
***
“Mom, I don’t want to go to bed.”
I sigh and look up toward heaven, already exhausted and not in the mood to play the bedtime game with Sam.
“You were supposed to be in bed an hour and a half ago, Samuel Beauregard Boudreaux. I don’t want to have this argument.”