Beautifully Awake

Now I can’t imagine sleeping without you tucked by my side. But maybe you’re right, maybe me telling you about Kimi brought shit back to the surface. I’m so sorry I scared you, but what scared me more was you running out the door. So sitting here listening to you tell me you don’t want to run anymore, you don’t want to sleep run, fuck, Blue, you just made me the happiest man alive.” He tenderly ran his hand down my cheeks and tucked the loose strands that fell from my ponytail behind my ears.

“Just promise me you won’t walk away again. I’m tired of living my life like a bad movie. I don’t want anymore pauses ... no more rewinds. I want our life to play out live. You woke me up, Chase. You brought color back to my life. The only time I ever want to see grey again is when I’m looking in your eyes.”

His tender lips claimed mine as he leaned me back onto the sand. “I’m not going anywhere, baby. I want you awake and I definitely want our life playing out live because I don’t want to miss a fucking second of it.”

The last layer of my barrier evaporated into thin air. I closed my eyes and saw nothing but bright vibrant colors. I gripped him tighter. If I could have climbed inside him I would have. I wanted this, I wanted all in, even the fucked up parts.

I winced when Chase finally let go of me, wanting the moment to never end. “Come on we have a baby shower to get ready for. I don’t think getting you there late will score me any points with your best friend.”

“You’re probably right, but you could score some serious points with me,” I said suggestively.

Chase responded with a smile that reached his eyes. “Mmm. I missed that sassy little mouth.” His lips brushed the tip of my nose. “Hop on, sweetness.” He motioned for me to jump on his back.

“You can’t be serious? You can’t carry me all the way back.”

“First of all, you just sprinted a half marathon. I found you rubbing your calf like a banshee. You’re not walking back. Second. Yes, I can.”

You’d think I would have learned by now.

21 Pure steel

The baby shower was ... a baby shower. No matter how you dressed it up, changed the location or added testosterone to the guest list, showers were showers. But Sierra looked radiantly happy rocking her mini black and pink paisley halter sundress that boasted a neckline that plunged to meet the empire waist, accentuating her girls, as she liked to call them these days. She even insisted on keeping with the theme and highlighted her short pixie haircut with chunky pink streaks. But my personal favorite was her skinny little feet in my four-inch camel colored Louboutins. Probably the first time in our friendship, Sierra asked to borrow something out of my closet. She made eight months of pregnancy look glamorous, and Dodd, her husband of two years couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Adoration consumed his gaze, like she was the most beautiful woman in the world, and he was proud that she was going to be the mother of his children. No one deserved it more.

She opened gift, after gift, after gift—all varying shades of pink everything. I wondered what my life would have been like if I hadn’t miscarried. He or she would have been almost three. The image of a little one tearing the tantalizing Dylan’s candy centerpieces off the tables and trying to bury his or her wet body in the sand clouded my mind. I made a point over the years, to not let those thoughts linger. What-ifs were pointless.

The Jack in Jack & Jill added a welcomed shower dynamic. The women were complacent to the same old shower traditions of oohing and aahing. But let’s be honest, a onesie was a onesie. And the guys called it like they saw it with plenty of alcohol to back their comments. At one point, Jackson had the room in tears when he heckled Dodd to try on one of those ruffled baby bloomers bedazzled in pink sequin letters, that read ‘spoil me.’ Dodd, who was pretty reserved and usually let Sierra steal the limelight, had his fair share of yummy champagne because he had no problem playing along. Of course Sierra, being Sierra, couldn’t let the opportunity pass. So while Dodd strutted his stuff, wearing a bedazzled baby bloomer over his shorts (how the hell it stretched, I’m still not sure), Sierra playfully got on her knees and lasciviously waved her finger and suggestively winked at her husband. Yes, her mother and grandmother were in the room, their faces blending into the crimson tablecloths. I almost peed my pants. Literally. Good thing I had Kegel power. Otherwise I would have looked like I broke my water. My crotchless panties would have held in nothing.

There were also a few touching moments as well. Jackson and the boys over-exaggerated their “ahhhs” just in time to keep the mood from getting too serious. Sierra teared up reading my card to my unborn honorary niece that accompanied a wardrobe of purple and red. I was over the pink the day after Sierra found out she was having a girl.

There wasn’t a dry eye in the room when Sierra’s mom toasted to her daughter in a beautifully written letter emphasizing that having a child defined her happiness and wished that for Sierra. Along with a trust covering college and grad school—just in case.

But my eyes were probably the only ones that welled when Chase pulled a gift out of thin air. I should have been surprised, since he only found out about the shower the prior morning. But then again—Chase was Chase. It wasn’t the gift that touched me, not that a year of unlimited spa services for a new mom was anything to poopoo. But it was the why. Chase made light of his generosity, toasting, “A happy mama makes a happy wife ... makes a happy husband.” Then he whispered in my ear, “A happy Sierra makes for a happy Blue. Things are probably going to change once the baby comes. Sierra’s probably not going to have as much time. I got you a matching package, so at least you can count on some quality girl time. A happy Blue makes a happy Chase.” His thoughtfulness leveled me.

After the baby shower, everyone disbanded to do their own thing for a few hours. Sierra needed a nap. Jackson and Leanne decided to squeeze in a seal watching tour. And Kate and the girls opted for shopping in Chatham, only after a twenty-minute heated phone conversation with CJ, who, from what I gathered, accused her of wanting to “play for the other team” since she was sharing a room with one of the other nurses from the hospital. Yeah ... he was a loose cannon looking for any reason to start drama. How she was so blind, was beyond me. I left it alone. It wasn’t the time or the place.

“Walk with me.” My fingers interlaced perfectly into Chase’s outstretched hand.

I’ll go anywhere with you. My words were silent, but my eyes screamed it.

“Where to, Dr. Generous?” I hoped he knew how moved I was by his olive branch to my best friend.

He lifted our joined hands to his mouth and brushed a soft kiss on the inside of my wrist. “I meant it. I want you and Sierra to have that time together. You need it. But right now, the last thing I’m feeling is generous. If you don’t mind, I’m done sharing you for now.”

“Then I’m all yours,” I whispered.

We took our time strolling down the beach, with our shoes in hand. Even though it was midday and the sun was strong, you could always count on the crisp breeze coming off the Sound. With our fingers entwined, we walked to the water’s edge and sat in the sand, a few feet from where the powdery beige sand turned soggy. Chase was made for the beach, especially dressed in khaki linen pants and a white linen button down. The entire female race would have appreciated if he replaced every article of clothing in his closet to sport his beach attire.

I chuckled, thinking of how every woman at the baby shower took turns ogling the man standing next to me. Hell, even Sierra’s grandma pulled me aside to tell me she finally figured out the expression: “He hurts my eyes, he’s so attractive.”

We squished our bare feet deep in the dark wet sand while we silently watched the paddle boarders in the distance. The beach was otherwise empty in the late afternoon. As happy as I was for Sierra and for Chase being with me, there was still a looming melancholy in the air.

“Tell me about the baby?” Chase asked. Before I concocted a bullshit response, Chase landed a blow on my heart. “Your baby.”

No one had ever really asked about my miscarriage. Ever. When I said no one, I meant my Dad or Sierra. They steered clear of any and all topics baby related, until Sierra’s pregnancy, of course.

“I wanted him or her,” I spoke the truth.

It felt good to finally say it out loud, to finally admit it. I stared at the rolling waves, my safe haven, and kept talking. “I know it sounds crazy, but I never lumped the rape and getting pregnant together. I never even struggled