Chapter 29: Finding Forever: Chapter 28

“Fern?”

The voice on the other end of the line wasn’t one Fern immediately recognized and she moved the phone away from her ear to check the caller ID again. It said Unknown Caller, of course. She knew it did and Cade would probably give her a stern talking to for answering it in the first place, but she was expecting a call from her new financial advisor and she’d foolishly forgotten to save his number to her phone.

“Hello? Fern?” She heard the faint voice say again and she brought the phone back to her ear.

It couldn’t be the financial advisor, this person spoke with the familiarity of someone who knew her.

“Yes, this is Fern.”

“Fern, hi. This is Margot.”

Fern’s breath stuttered to a halt and the blood seemed to recede from her head. She staggered onto the nearby barstool, her knees giving way in shock.

“Margot?”

“Yes.”

“How did you—” She didn’t want to ask how the woman got her number, in case she thought it meant Fern didn’t want to speak with her. She didn’t know what her former friend wanted to say to her, but she owed it to Margot to let her get it off her chest.

“How did I get this number?” the woman completed her question.

“Yes.”

“I asked your husband for it.”

“You asked Cade? Why? When?”

“Just a few minutes ago, actually,” Margot said. It was hard to read her voice and Fern was uncertain of her mood. “But I thought I should call before I lost my nerve.”

“I see,” Fern said, not really seeing a damned thing, but hoped it would prompt Margot to continue. Her phone beeped while the silence stretched on for a few long moments. She checked the screen. It was Cade trying to reach her. He was probably trying to warn her that Margot would call.

“I saw you on Mike Holmes,” Margot informed, her tone slow and measured, as if she was carefully weighing every word.

“Did you?”

“It took me a very long time to stop hating you, Fern. And when I saw you on that show everything that happened back then came flooding back.”

“I’m so sorry,” Fern whispered, tears burning their way into her eyes at knowledge that she’d unintentionally caused Margot even more pain.

“No, that’s not why I’m calling. Last month, a couple of weeks before Christmas, my dad got a phone call, from an attorney claiming to represent you, offering full restitution of our shop. Along with a percentage of the revenue lost over the last decade.”

“W-what?” Fern whispered in shock, not sure what to make of the other woman’s words.

“Dad is old. It was hard for him to start over back when this all happened, he went to work with his brother instead. It took a long time but we finally reached a point where we were okay. Not just getting by… but okay. I went back to school about three years later. Life moved on, I got married, I have two children. My life is good. My family is fine. I wanted you to know that. We don’t need the money, Fern.”

“I wasn’t, I didn’t know…” Fern began but she didn’t know what to say because she wasn’t sure what was happening right now and sob caught in her throat as tears seeped down her cheeks.

“Fern, please don’t cry. I’m just trying to explain why we can’t accept the money. We’ve discussed it and would like you to donate the money to a local youth outreach program in our community on behalf of the family. I appreciate the gesture. Honestly, I do. We all do.

“I was so angry back then, I blamed you for everything. When it happened, I believed you were just another of those rich bitches from school, more sadistic than the rest. That our entire friendship was nothing but a cruel, elaborate prank. I felt that way for a long time. It took hindsight and maturity to understand that you were a victim as well. We often wondered, over the years, what had happened to you. And when we saw you on the telly the other day and learned that you’d spent the last ten years stagnating in that school, we were all heartbroken. Mum burst into tears.

“I forgave you a long time ago, Fern. And I just needed you to know that I don’t hate you. Thank you so much for offering restitution.”

“Margot, I’m so, so sorry,” Fern repeated, not quite sure what else to say. But getting the opportunity to apologize after all these years meant so much to her. “Please tell your parents I’m sorry for what happened. The words are so inadequate, I know they mean little, but I’ve wanted to say them for so long.”

“I’ll tell them, Fern. I promise I will. But they forgave you even faster than I did. They tried for a long time to find out what happened to you, but as you can imagine, for people with our limited resources, it was impossible.”

Fern made a helpless sound of agreement, not at all sure what to say or do next.

Margot seemed to know though.

“You take good care of yourself, Fern. I’m so relieved to know that you’ve found happiness and that you’re free of that monster.”

“You take care too, Margot,” Fern said, her voice thick with the tears that were clogging up her nose and still streaming down her face.

“Goodbye, Fern.”

“Goodbye, Margot.”

The call ended without a sound and the ensuing silence echoed harshly throughout the tranquil apartment.

Her phone rang again soon after. It was Cade, of course, but she wasn’t quite ready to speak with him yet. She put her phone on silent, buried her head in her arms, and sobbed like a baby.

Just a few minutes later the front door slammed open and her head jerked up in time to see Cade flying into the apartment like a bat out of hell. He had his phone clutched in his hand and his wild eyes scanned the apartment and went dark with relief when he spotted her at the counter.

“Jesus, Fern, you scared the hell out of me,” he admonished, sounding out of breath. “Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

“I was on the line…” she said her voice high-pitched with tears. His gaze softened and he made a beeline for her and gently gathered her into his arms.

“Oh, sweetheart, I didn’t think she’d call this quickly. I tried to warn you. I was reluctant to give her your number without discussing it with you first, but I was concerned she might change her mind. It’s taken her nearly a month to reach out.”

Fern pushed against his chest, and he released her reluctantly. His concerned eyes raked over her features and he reached into his jacket pocket to produce a clean, blue handkerchief.

She accepted it gratefully and wiped her face before blowing her nose.

“Please explain to me,” she began in a hoarse voice. “How I could possibly have offered Margot’s family full restitution of their business before I even had control of my own money?”

“I did it for you.” Just a straightforward reply. No hedging or subterfuge. She appreciated that.

“Why? And how? Granger was holding that property hostage out of sheer spite.”

“I could see that it was eating you up. And I didn’t want you blaming yourself for it any longer. I hated that you felt responsible for Abernathy’s actions.”

“I’ll repay you.”

“If it’ll make you feel better,” he said with an easy shrug. “But it’s not necessary. I hoped that it would help you and your friend make amends…” He gave her another searching look, eyes lingering on her still wet cheeks.

“I think we both needed closure,” she whispered. “And… thanks to you, we have that now. But we’ll never be friends again. And that’s okay. I’m just happy I had the opportunity to sincerely apologize and she was grateful for the chance to tell me that she forgave me long ago, and that she and her family didn’t hold me responsible for what had happened.”

“And that’s enough?” Cade asked.

“It’s more than enough, Cade.”

“Then why are you crying?” The aggrieved note in his voice made her smile. She stroked his lean cheek reassuringly.

“They’re happy tears.”

He didn’t reply, but his grim expression told her that happy tears, or sad tears, they were all the same to him and he wasn’t thrilled about seeing her cry.

“How did you get here so fast, anyway?” she asked curiously. His office was at least fifteen minutes away. Her phone call with Margot had lasted less than five.

“Your appointment, remember?”

“What?”

“With Dr. Khan? That’s today, right? Or am I mistaken?” He lifted his phone, clearly checking the date, and frowned. “It is today. Or did you change the appointment?”

“Uh… no. I didn’t. But didn’t think you’d be joining me.”

“I missed your last one.” She wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean.

He’d been out of the country during her second appointment with Dr. Khan shortly after Christmas but had asked her a surprising number of detailed questions about it when they’d FaceTimed afterwards. But she hadn’t expected him to come to that one either.

He rarely asked about the baby. Even after her last appointment, his questions had been about Fern’s health—her blood pressure, her glucose levels, her decreased appetite—he hadn’t once asked how the baby was doing.

He still seemed generally disconnected from her pregnancy.

And yet… she knew he kept that carefully folded ultrasound picture in his credit card case.

He’d been amazing this last month—caring, considerate, attentive—and Fern had long ago accepted the fact that she was falling more and more in love with him every day, especially after the fantastic Christmas they’d shared together.

The day had been spent at Beth and Gideon’s place, their small house filled to the brim with family and friends. It had been frenetic and fast-paced. And Fern had found it both overwhelming and wonderful.

But it had been the quiet, intimate moments she’d shared with Cade afterward, in the privacy of their own home, that had meant the most to her. They’d exchanged gifts. A vintage set of horology tools that she’d sourced from a private seller off the internet from Fern to Cade. He’d been both gobsmacked—he hadn’t realized that she was aware of his super nerdy hobby—and moved by the gift.

His present to her had been more practical. A safe as houses Volvo—along with a driver/guard because Fern didn’t have a license yet—so that she could get around more easily. He’d followed that up with an extremely delicate necklace, platinum, with a small, diamond encrusted infinity symbol pendant—to complete the set, he’d told her almost shyly—dangling from the fine chain.

After exchanging gifts, they had snuggled in front of their beautiful Christmas tree, watching Christmas movies together. Cade had ridiculed every single one of her romantic choices, and had insisted that his choice—Die Hard—was the winner of the night. Fern had secretly agreed but had felt obligated to put up a token protest.

The evening had been the perfect ending to a wonderful day.

And afterward Fern had spiraled a little. Unsure what it meant and what the future held for them. Afraid that she wasn’t maintaining enough distance from him and that she would be too tempted to settle for his “good enough” version of marriage, in order to continue having him in her life.

But his clear ambivalence toward the baby continued to be a massive red flag for her. The baby was making its presence known more and more every day. Aside from the physical changes to her body, there had been the disorienting pops and flutters that, at first, Fern had dismissed as muscles spasms. But they had become too regular to be anything other than the baby. She’d been so excited and had wanted to share the news with Cade immediately, but her joy had been tempered by her uncertainty over his reaction. It would’ve absolutely destroyed her to see disinterest in his eyes. And in the end, she’d kept it to herself.

Like a shameful little secret.

It was unsettling to be so happy and so uncertain at the same time. All she knew was that she’d have to make an important decision soon. She loved Cade, there was no point in even deluding herself about that reality. How could she not love him? When he did such unexpectedly wonderful things? But she wasn’t sure she could continue to stay with him when he was still so clearly uncertain about her pregnancy.

She hadn’t forgotten what he’d said about living with an axe hanging above his head. She didn’t want that for him. It wasn’t fair. Not after he’d been so kind to her. Fern wanted this baby, Cade did not. Nobody was to blame for that.

“Fern?” His concerned voice prompted her out of her musings and she blinked.

“Yes?”

“You okay?”

“Yes, fine… just still—” She shrugged and prevaricated, something she rarely did to Cade. “Still emotional after that phone call with Margot.”

She gave him a quick, impulsive hug.

“Thank you, Cade,” she whispered, emotion adding a quavering note to her voice. “Thank you for everything. You’ve done so much for me and I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

He didn’t reply, instead his troubled, frowning gaze slid away from hers and she immediately wondered what he was trying to hide from her.

He stepped out of her hug, leaving her bereft and bewildered by the sudden shift in his mood.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked her quietly, still keeping his eyes averted. He busied himself with his phone, using it as an obvious excuse not to look at her.

“Yes, but… you don’t have to come with me, Cade,” she told him.

That brought his eyes back up to hers, and she was certain she caught a flash of quickly concealed hurt in them.

“Don’t you want me there?”

“I didn’t think you were interested.”

“Everything about you interests me, Fern.”

“Not my pregnancy.” She was unable to keep the bitterness from her voice and he went very, very still. His eyes were wary, face frozen, mouth grim.

“Your pregnancy affects your health,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “And anything that affects your health interests me greatly.”

Fern simply stared at him in mute frustration. That was not what she’d meant. And he knew it.

“Do you hate this baby, Cade?” She’d asked him that once before. A twofold question, did he hate her? Did he hate the baby? She now recalled—with a nauseating jolt of realization—that he’d answered only one of those questions.

She didn’t know if she’d—they’d—recover if he admitted to hating the child she already loved with every fiber of her being. But it was better to know the truth, so that she could figure out what to do from here.

His lips thinned and his nostrils flared… eyes revealing a turmoil that he didn’t attempt to disguise. His telling physical reaction made the anticipation of what he’d say next that much worse.

“It’s hard to hate something that doesn’t feel real.”

That was all he said, all he was willing to give her. She could see it in his eyes. He had nothing more to add and it frustrated her. Because it wasn’t an answer. It wasn’t anything. But at the same time, she understood that maybe it was an answer to him.

And if it was hard to hate something that didn’t feel real, it had to be almost impossible to love it.

“You kept the ultrasound picture,” she said, recalling those well-worn folds and the faded edges.

“Yes. I look at it often, trying to make sense of it. It’s hard to imagine how that grainy image will somehow coalesce into a whole new person. I just can’t picture it.

“I try not to think of it too often. Or imagine anything about him. I think because, for too long now, there’s been a lack of certainty about my place—if any—in his life. You have the very valid fear of growing attached to people you may lose later on. I believe what I feel toward the baby is similar to that. What if I allow myself to love him… and you then decide that I have no place in his life?”

Do you want it to have a place in your life?

The question hovered on the tip of her tongue. He knew it too, she could see that in the way his shoulders tensed as he braced himself for what was to come.

They’d been living in their temporary little bubble. Happy to ignore the looming future. Living in the moment. They’d felt like a real couple. Enjoying each other’s company in bed and out of it. She should’ve been watching herself, should have reminded herself daily that what they had was temporary. Instead, she’d allowed herself to indulge in this dangerous fantasy of normalcy.

But how could this be normal? When she was too afraid to share the exciting and important milestones of her pregnancy with him? That wasn’t normal, it was delusional.

They’d been lying to themselves and ignoring the reality of their situation. Fern finally understood what he’d meant about having an axe above his head. It was a metaphor for their marriage as a whole. Just because the sex was good and she’d developed feelings for him, didn’t change the inevitability of the outcome.

“You’re going to be late,” he told her after the silence stretched on for too long.

Fern considered asking her question anyway…

Do you want to have a place in this baby’s life?

But in the end, she backed off. Margot’s phone call and Cade’s role in making it happen was already too much to process. It was only ten in the morning and she was utterly exhausted.

“We’d better get going then. If you want to join me, I won’t stop you. But this conversation isn’t over, Cade. Not by a long shot.”

“I’m quite happy with everything today, Fern,” Dr. Khan told Fern with a smile. “You’re healthy and the fetus’s development is progressing normally. Your blood pressure is still a little low, but I’m not too concerned about that. Have you felt any movement yet?”

Cade, who was aware that he was here on sufferance, watched Fern’s hand go to her abdomen protectively—he’d noticed that she was doing that a lot lately. She shocked him by nodding, a shy, radiant smile blooming on her lips.

“Yes. It started about a week and a half ago.” She was clearly excited about the development and yet he hadn’t heard mention of it from her until now.

Why hadn’t she told him? Who had she told? It was the kind of news first time parents—mothers, especially—would want to shout from the rooftops.

He felt a sharp pang in the vicinity of his heart that she hadn’t shared this news with him. A sense of loss and alienation that made him feel even further removed from the baby. But he was also realistic enough to acknowledge that he hadn’t exactly been approachable on the subject of this pregnancy.

He sat quietly, doing his best to remain unobtrusive as Fern—her voice bubbling with suppressed joy—described the first fluttering movements of the baby to her doctor. He wanted to ask her how it felt. Did it hurt? Was it uncomfortable? He waited for the doctor to ask her those questions, but the woman merely told her that it all sounded very normal and that the baby’s movements would only strengthen and become more regular as the pregnancy continued.

“At this point in your pregnancy, your fetus is about the size of a pear, and it’ll react to loud noises”—Fern laughed in delight at that information while Cade’s eyes widened in panic at the thought. What if he unthinkingly raised his voice and upset the baby? What would happen? Would it be afraid? How did one comfort a fetus? Could fetuses cry?—“…and it can open and close its mouth. Oh, and move its eyes.”

Shit! If it had eyes and a mouth it could definitely cry, right? He desperately tried to recall if he’d raised his voice in his earlier conversation with Fern. It was bad enough that he’d upset her, but what if he’d also upset the fetus?

The fetus with hands and feet, fucking fingernails, a mouth, eyes… and ears with which to hear his angry voice. This fetus—baby—that he was finally starting to recognize as a whole other person. Part of Fern, part of him, yet independent of them both. A brand-new soul—tiny, helpless, vulnerable—in need of care, protection, and love.

“I do have you scheduled for an ultrasound today,” Dr. Khan said. “If you’d like to stop referring to Baby as it.”

Anticipation and excitement bloomed on Fern’s face and she glanced over at Cade as if to share that moment with him. But her expression immediately dimmed when she met his eyes and he hated that he was the reason her joy in the moment had diminished. Just like he hated that she’d felt like she couldn’t share the news of the baby’s first movements with him.

He smiled in what he hoped was an encouraging way, but she’d already averted her eyes back to the doctor.

“I’d like that very much,” Fern stated and the doctor sent a curious glance Cade’s way. She had to be confused about his lack of participation. He’d certainly been more verbal at the first appointment. Then again, he’d been a little more certain of his welcome back then.

“Wonderful. Lee-Anne should be set up by now. I’ll join you in a few minutes.” The doctor smiled at them and jotted down a few notes on Fern’s chart. It was a clear dismissal and Fern pushed to her feet before Cade could assist her. They exited the doctor’s consultation room together but as soon as they were on the other side of the door, Fern turned to him.

“You don’t have you join me for the ultrasound.”

His stomach sank through the floor. He wanted to be there for this. Wanted to see how much the fetus had grown and he wanted to see Fern’s face when she learned the baby’s gender.

She chewed on her lip before adding assertively, “In fact, I think it’s best if you didn’t.”

“Fern,” he murmured, a little embarrassed by the broken note in his voice. “Please…”

“Tell me why you want to be there,” she invited and he stepped toward, her, closing the physical gap, even while feeling helpless to bridge the ever-widening emotional chasm between them.

“Because I’m not an emotionless monster. This means something to me. I’m sorry I can’t define it in a way that’s satisfactory to you yet, but I’d like the opportunity to figure it out.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but the technician—Lee-Anne—popped her curly head out from the next room before she could speak. The young woman grinned when she caught sight of them.

“Aah, Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne, I was just about to come looking for you. Are you ready?”

Fern threw him a troubled look and then nodded at Lee-Anne and forced a smile.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Excellent.” The girl disappeared back into the room and Fern slanted him another bleak look.

“I don’t want you to be unhappy,” he suddenly decided. “I’m sorry, Fern. I’m being a selfish prick. This should be an exciting moment, if me being there with you is going to ruin it, I’ll wait out here.”

His words gave her pause and this time her gaze was speculative.

“Are you excited about finding out the gender?” she asked, watching him closely.

Cade swallowed and tugged at his restrictive tie as he considered her question. Then he smiled. Because answering that question really wasn’t as complicated as he’d thought it would be. His reply—while wholly unexpected… to him at least—was quite simple.

“Yes. I am.”

She nodded. “Then let’s go and find out.”