She expels a sharp breath. “I did say I would, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, but I won’t hold you to it. More than anything, I just want to say that I’m so sorry. And ashamed too, honestly. I was a kid doing things only men should. You deserved so much better.”
“It wasn’t your fault any more than it was mine. It wasn’t fair of me to imply it was. But, when I miscarried there were complications. And…I had to make some hard decisions that I hadn’t seen coming.”
“Like?”
“Removing my fallopian tubes. They were scarred and the doctor thought it was best.”
I wince because it sounds painful, but my knowledge of human anatomy is basically non existent. “What does that mean?”
“In short, I can’t get pregnant without IVF.”
“Shit, I’m so sorry.”
“I’m okay, now. And it wasn’t your fault. That was good old mother nature’s doing.”
“So, you’re really okay about the whole IVF thing??”
She sighs and hums briefly before she speaks again. "I guess. I mean, before I found out I was pregnant I hadn’t given any thought to whether I wanted to have kids. When I was faced with the choice to preserve my ability to get pregnant, but risk another complicated and potentially fatal pregnancy, it didn’t seem like a hard choice at all.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I mean, I know first hand that giving birth to a kid doesn’t make you a parent. And look at you.”
I frown. “What does that mean?”
“You’re adopted and your family is tight knit as they come.”
"I’m not adopted, Beth.”
“Oh, I thought…I mean, yeah. I figured you had to be…seeing as Penn is Black, your father looked like he was biracial. And you look…like neither of those things.?”
“His father’s mother was Native American and German, his mother’s parents were from Haiti. My biological mother was someone my dad had an affair with. I never met her, but safe to say she was white.”
“Well, I guess I’m not the only one who kept important things to myself that summer.”
“Touché,”I concede the point with a good natured chuckle. But I feel like such a fool, again.
“I’m sorry about your dad. I know how much you loved him. I can imagine how hard it was when he died,” she says in a soft voice.
I bet she can imagine it too well after losing her sister. I rub at a spot on my chest where an ache lives just below the surface. “Thank you. I’m embarrassed because half the world knows I didn’t cope well with his passing.”
“Yeah, I saw it on the news,” she says vaguely and I appreciate her not asking me particulars. “Are you better now?’
“Yeah, I went to rehab to avoid serving a sentence and parole but I left there better. I don’t miss drinking. And I’m ready to make music again.”
"So, you came to fix up the house so you could sell it?”
“Yeah. It’s gonna be a lot of work. Half the ceiling on the main floor collapsed.”
“Oh no. So, where are you staying?”
“In the only room that’s habitable.”
“Is that safe?”
“Safe enough. But showering and sleeping are about all I can do here.”
She lets out a low whistle. “Where do you eat and… fuck?
I laugh, surprised and pleased she asked. “Eat at the diner or wherever I can grab something quick. And I fuck… in the library.”
“You took Etta there, too?”
Her question takes me by complete surprise. I’d forgotten all about Etta, but I remember the way she’d looked when she saw us that night at Corks.
“I take it you’re not a fan.”
“She was Duke’s…I don’t even know what to call it. Fuck buddy?”
Etta left out that inconvenient detail. “No shit? Wow, well she’s my realtor. She was showing me around town, helped me get the contractors for the place lined up, and I bought her dinner to say thank you. But that’s all.”
“I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business,” she says, in a hasty dismissive voice.
“You can ask me anything.”
When she doesn’t answer I pull the phone away from my ear to make sure the call is still connected. “You okay?” I ask when she still doesn’t speak.
“Carter…” she begins in a heavy, reluctant tone. “What happened in the library, we can’t do that again, But I hope we can be friends.”
I'd anticipated this, but I still hate to hear it.
“Well, my dick and I both think that’s a terrible idea.” I laugh to cover how fucking serious I am.
She’s silent again. But this silence is bursting at the seams with indecision.“Don’t