Chapter 117

I shook my head to clear my ears but it didn’t work. The words were still reverberating in my head. My first instinct was to make a snide remark about alcohol and low birth weights.

I bit it back because I knew Liz would never intentionally harm a fetus. I figured it was best to wait for an explanation. I had gotten myself into too much trouble by jumping before looking.

“Wait!” I said. “How is that possible?”

“Well, when two people really like each other sometimes they have sex,” Liz began.

“I’m serious!” I said as I searched for someplace to sit down. I located the bed in my stupor and fell backward onto it.

“I know and I didn’t plan it this way,” she said, sitting beside me.

“I know it wasn’t ... a plan,” I said. “I just don’t understand what happened.”

“I screwed up,” Liz said, shaking her head. “I don’t take the pill. I get a shot every three months.”

“Yeah,” I said since we’d had the conversation before.

“I was supposed to go to the doctor right after we got back from Mexico,” Liz informed me. “But then the thing with Joe and Mary happened and we stayed in San Diego. I cancelled the appointment. The hormones take time to work out of the system so we were still good for awhile. I was going to go while we were here in Nashville in May. My doctor’s here. It got crazy and I didn’t go. I decided I was going to wait until after Dallas. Then ... it happened. I was going to go right after my time. That’s when it’s most effective, I guess. Except I didn’t have a time in May or in June.”

“May or June?” I asked.

“It’s not unusual,” Liz said quickly. “It takes time to regulate your body after you go off of birth control. Things were hectic in May so I didn’t pay it much attention. They were worse in June and I didn’t think about it then either. It wasn’t until this morning that I really gave it a lot of thought. I’m supposed to start ... soon ... in a few days, I think. Except I don’t feel like I’m going to start. I’ve put on three or four pounds in the last couple of weeks. I noticed this morning that some of my pants were a little snug. That’s when I started to really think about a trainer. Then you said something about leaving a child somewhere. That started me on a whole other line of thinking. Looking at things right this minute, I think I might be.”

I found myself sitting with my mouth open.

“Shit,” I muttered when I finally got my brain to engage.

“It isn’t the worst thing in the world,” Liz said. “We’ve talked about starting a family.”

“We talked about it when I was going to be able to help you,” I countered. “Jesus Christ, it will be like having two infants in the house.”

“No, it won’t,” Liz said. “It will give you another reason to work hard to get better.”

I closed my eyes again and tried to arrange my thoughts in my brain.

Finally I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Well, it ain’t like we can change it if you are,” I said.

“No,” Liz said. “But it makes me wish I’d thought of it before I had four Alabama Slammers last night. If I’d considered this possibility last night I would have stuck with water. But, honestly, until you said you felt like you were a child ... it never entered my mind. But all the clues sure point to it.”

I rubbed my eyes and nodded, glad that I hadn’t said anything about fetal alcohol syndrome.

“Realistically, how far along could you be?” I asked.

“Realistically ... I have no idea,” Liz said. “I would guess the farthest outside would be 10 weeks. The other end of the spectrum is a week or two. I just don’t know. I know my last period was in April. That’s the best estimate I can come up with. I was supposed to start about 10 days before the Dallas show but I didn’t. Then I was supposed to start again in mid-June but I didn’t. If I stay on schedule ... which I usually do ... the next one would start in about five days. Usually I start to feel bloated and some other things right about now. I haven’t really felt that way in a couple of months. Then there is the fact I’ve been a little queasy of the mornings for the past couple of weeks.”

“You have?” I asked.

“A little,” Liz said. “I thought it was because of stress and the change in our diets since ... Lynwood was let go. It was pretty bad while we were in San Diego.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” I asked.

“It didn’t really register what it ... might be,” Liz said. “Our body clocks were screwed up. I was worried about you going on TV by yourself. It could have been a thousand reasons. But with a few other facts that didn’t really settle into my head until now ... I think it’s a baby.”

“What facts?” I asked.

“Just ... my boobs have grown a little in the last month,” Liz said with a shrug. “It’s not like I’ve gone to double-Ds or anything but I’ve noticed my bras are a little snug. And they’re tender. They don’t ... hurt ... but they’ve been a little more sensitive than usual this week. It’s why I’ve worn softer bras.”

“Damn,” I said. I couldn’t stop myself from reaching over and putting my hand on Liz’s stomach. It felt as flat to me as it ever did but I didn’t say that.

“So, you’re OK with it ... if I am?” Liz asked.

“Well, yeah,” I said, chuckling slightly. “We really need to find out for sure, though.”

“I know,” Liz said as she put her hand atop mine on her belly. “I’m going to call my gynecologist first thing Monday and schedule an appointment. She’s really good at getting me in quickly. We should know no later than Wednesday.”

I nodded.

“They make home kits,” I pointed out. “We could...”

I stopped and shook my head before I finished. Pictures of Liz (or me) purchasing a home pregnancy kit would hit the Internet seconds after we left the store.

“We could call Jill or Skye and have them pick one up,” I amended.

“We could but ... I don’t really want to say anything until I’m sure,” Liz said. “I know they won’t call the bloggers but ... I don’t want to jinx it. I want to keep it a secret ... even from our moms ... until I’m sure. At the same time, I’d like to know. I wish I could just put on a dark hat and sunglasses and slip into a drugstore. I really don’t think that’s possible.”

“No,” I agreed. “Word would be out in seconds. I’ll think about it while you’re out today. If I knew Ciera even a little bit better I’d ask her.”

“But we don’t trust Ciera, do we?” Liz said.

I shrugged. It wasn’t a matter of trust for me. She had ample opportunities to cause me massive amounts of pain (inadvertently or purposefully) but she’d always been careful.

“Do we?” Liz asked again.

“I guess not,” I said (because that was obviously the only answer that would suffice). “While we’re talking about secrets ... do you ever plan to tell people about ... the wedding?”

“Mr. Blakely, you might not be aware of this but there are customs to be observed,” Liz said in her best imitation of a haughty ice princess. It still left me confused. I wasn’t sure what sort of customs she was talking about. So I asked.

“Huh?” I wondered.

Liz rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue in disapproval.

“It is customary for a gentleman to make a grand gesture, get down on one knee and propose marriage,” Liz said. “There typically is a ring involved. It isn’t a matter of you saying, ‘Let’s get hitched.’”

I tilted my head in disbelief.

“I have dropped hints to you,” Liz said. “I’ve even gone so far as to search for appropriate venues. The next step is up to you. Once you formally propose to me then we can set out to tell our friends and family. You really should check things out on the Internet. I’m sure there is a site or two devoted to the steps people have to take before getting married.”

I rubbed the back of my head and glanced to where Skye had told me she had hidden the engagement ring ... in the pocket of one of my suits that Liz absolutely hated.

“Fine,” I said. “If that’s the way you want to play it, we’ll play it that way.”

Liz leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

“We can tell them whenever you want,” she said. “I don’t need a ring or anything like that.”

“Let’s see if we’re going to have one announcement or two before we fill them in,” I said.

“Probably a good idea,” Liz said, laughing. “So ... we’re good?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“And we’re going to see if we can do your OT together before you cut back on PT?” Liz pressed.

“No,” I answered. “I’m still going to talk to Bill on Monday. I’ll talk to Sondra this weekend. Then I’ll make a decision about what I think is best for me.”

“After talking it over with your future wife and the mother of your future children,” Liz finished.

“Yes,” I agreed.

“OK,” Liz said. “Dad is bringing you back some stuff you can fix for lunch. The SUV is going to be here all day. I told Bobbi and Dayton they could drive anything out of the garage they wanted if they go anywhere.”

Liz saw my frown and amended her statement.

“Except the Mustang,” she added. “Everybody knows that is off limits. But you’ll have transportation if you need to go anywhere. Bobbi and Dayton are going to be here while Ciera is here so we don’t have to worry about that.”

“I wasn’t worried about that,” I admitted.

“You need to be,” Liz said. “That girl ... a lot of girls ... are upwardly mobile. If she thought an accusation of sexual impropriety on your part would get her a payout I’m sure she’d think really hard about it.”

“Look at the clothes she wears,” I countered. “She comes from money.”

“The clothes she almost wears,” Liz corrected. “And just because her family has money doesn’t mean that she has all the money she wants. I’d prefer you not be alone in the house with her.”

“That’s fine with me,” I said. “I wasn’t interested in being alone with her.”

“If you need anything today call me,” Liz said as she arose. “I’m serious.”

“I know you are and I’ll be fine,” I said.

Liz sighed heavily and shook her head.

“Conny is on her way out so I need to finish getting ready,” she said. “Are you good until we get back? It’ll be around four.”

“Go!” I said. “I’ll be just fine.”

I sat and pondered Liz’s news as I half watched videos on occupational therapy.

The idea of having children wasn’t appalling to me. I genuinely loved the little ones that I had been around for the past few years and I had often fantasized about having my own children.

But the timing was horrible.

My limitations were formidable – and I think I might have been the only person to really understand the reality of the situation.

I searched the Internet for sites with videos about changing a baby with one hand – or feeding a baby with one hand – and came away empty. Just like walking through a revolving door with skis over your shoulder, there were some things that were just impossible.

I gave up after 30 fruitless minutes. I supposed I should wait until I knew for certain before I started to fret – as though that was a realistic possibility.

I didn’t want to wait until Liz could get in to see her gynecologist – and I knew she didn’t want to wait either.

I took a long breath and ran the possibilities through my head. I knew a dozen people that I could call and they would drop everything they were doing and race to the store.

But a lot of them lived in a different time zone and most of the rest were part of Liz’s inner circle that she wanted to keep in the dark. I considered just putting on a pair of sunglasses, heading to the drug store and letting the chips fall where they might.

Thankfully, that thought was pretty fleeting.

Even if my face hadn’t been in almost every Nashville paper for the past few months, the sling was a pretty big giveaway.

My mind went to the person that had known Liz the longest (outside of her parents and my mom).

Melinda Jones had been Liz’s housekeeper for the past 10 years. She had seen Liz at her worst and stuck beside her anyway. There was never a whisper from the woman despite the fact that the tabloids would have paid her a mint for the slightest hint of gossip.