Between Him and Us Read online

  I sucked in a deep breath. “If she decides this is something she wants, I will stand beside her one hundred percent.” I waited in the silence, giving myself a minute to gather the rest of what I had come here to get off my chest.

  “I’ll admit. My initial response to your letter and the choice you had left her to make all alone pissed me off. It was a copout, and if you were here to see the hurt in her eyes, you would agree.” I didn’t realize a tear had slipped until the back of my hand automatically brushed it away. “She’s a good woman to even consider something like this. It proves just how far she’s willing to go for the ones she loves. That she loves deep.

  “I need you to know. I’m willing to give this to her, regardless of whether I like it or understand it. It’s one thing to keep a loved one’s memory alive, honor their name, but if she goes through with it, how is she ever going to find closure? How is she supposed to move on or live a full life with someone else, someone who is here and willing to give anything and everything for her?”

  I had to stop for a minute. My breathing was getting heavy, and I could feel the heat seeping through my pores. It usually took a lot for me to get worked up and after reading that letter and the conversation Lilly and I had, it took even more effort to rein my temper in. Then I said my peace. “As much as it might kill me to think she’d want to carry your child over mine, I won’t make her choose between us.”

  By that time, I was more than ready to get out of there. So I walked over to my grandmother’s grave and greeted softly, “Hi, Grandma.” I smiled half-heartedly. “I really miss you.”

  After the little pow wow I had, I was at a loss for words. But knowing Georgia Tyler, she didn’t need me to fill our time with conversation or random gibberish. Just my stopping by would have been enough for her.

  “I’ll see you later, Grandma. I love you.” I turned to walk away at the same time my phone vibrated. My heart sped up, excited at the thought that Lilly had left me a message. Was it crazy to think she had already made up her mind and that she chose me?

  With a hopeful smile, I pulled my phone from my back pocket, but when I saw Sierra’s name, my heart bottomed out.

  Sierra: Please come home. I miss you. ♥

  Out of respect for Easton, I kept my distance. And by the lack of communication, he was doing the same. Hopefully, it was only until after today’s appointment, and maybe then we could try to find our way back to normal.

  These last two days without any contact had driven me half crazy. Easton had become someone I looked to for comfort and support, and not to have him there was as if someone had stolen my safety net. After spending far too much time pondering the entire situation, I decided that maybe our lack of communication was a good thing—a test of wills, teaching me a valuable lesson where Easton was concerned. That didn’t stop my mind or my heart from hurting. They both missed him terribly. The brighter side—at least they finally agreed on something.

  Though, that wouldn’t help with the questionnaire I was trying to fill out. Question after question about medical history, psychiatric history, and family life. After signing my name on the last page, I tossed the clipboard and pen aside and turned my eyes to the eggshell-colored walls with bright white trim and serene paintings that hung from them. A water cooler tucked in one corner and a tall, silk plant in the other. I fought off an annoyed giggle, thinking my mother would have a coronary or at least a bad case of hives if she saw that. Every plant or bouquet she ever bought had to be fresh. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.

  I should have let Leeza come with me. At first, I’d asked her to be there, but yesterday, I told her I wanted to go alone. Naturally, she argued with me. Tried to convince me she should be there for moral support. But I’d held firm. She was probably in the parking lot waiting for me to either call her and tell her to come inside or for me to come rushing out the door.

  Neither of which I was going to do.

  If my sister was there and saw how nervous I was, she might have lectured me to give this more time and a whole lot more thought.

  Maybe that was exactly what I needed—more time. This experience should be a happy time, where we finally put the stress of not being able to conceive naturally behind us. To have high hopes that we’d come out of this grueling process nine months later with a little one, and not the current dread I had lingering in my chest.

  “Lilly Crenshaw-Gibson,” a nurse called.

  “Yes.” I stood then walked toward her.

  “Hi, I’m Vanessa. I’m one of the nurses here. Right this way, please.”

  I followed Vanessa down a brightly lit hallway toward the doctor’s office.

  “May I.” She held her hand out, and I gave her the clipboard. “You can go on in and have a seat.”

  “Thank you,” I replied nervously, my hand fidgeting with my purse strap.

  Vanessa followed me into the office and handed the paperwork to the woman sitting behind the desk.

  This room was a complete contrast to the waiting area. It had an enormous corkboard hanging on the left wall dedicated to a slew of babies and their families, birth announcements, first birthdays, there were even a few graduation photos. Your typical matching bookcase filled with books, pictures, and a few knickknacks, which made up the majority of the back wall. What made me smile was a wicker basket arrangement of fresh white daisies and yellow roses sitting at the corner of her desk. Taking a final panoramic glance of the room, that was when I decided I liked her. I hadn’t even said a word to this woman yet, but I liked her.

  “Welcome. Please have a seat.” The woman, who I guessed to be in her early- to mid-fifties gestured to the leather chairs. “I’m Doctor Hardy. It’s nice to meet you, Lilly,” she said kindly.

  “It’s nice to meet you, too,” I replied, smiling politely before sitting on the edge of the seat and tucking my hands between my thighs. Just because I liked her didn’t mean my nerves had settled. They were anything but settled.

  “Shall we get started?” Dr. Hardy lifted a pair of red-framed glasses to her face and opened a yellow file folder. Instantly, my mind thought of sunshine and Easton. “I’ve looked over your medical records. Everything looks good, no issues for concern at the moment. I’m also familiar with your husband’s history, and he had no medical concerns, either.” She met my eyes with genuine sincerity and offered her sympathies. “I’m truly sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you.”

  Two months ago, I would have never accepted those words so easily. But now, I understood and was beginning to appreciate the kindness shown to me.

  Doctor Hardy sighed softly and removed her glasses, carefully setting them on her desk. She folded her hands across the top of her desk and leaned in an inch. “Lilly. I can’t begin to imagine what it’s been like for you, losing your husband at such a young age and so suddenly.” The grip on my hands tightened. “Have you sought counseling at all?”

  I shook my head and replied, “I haven’t.” Maybe I should have taken Leeza’s advice the first time she had suggested it.

  She nodded. “As part of this process, it is highly recommended that each individual seek counseling. This is not something to take lightly, and it is so much more than having a baby.” I nodded, letting her know I understood. If I were taking this lightly, I would have been pregnant already. “I’m sure you have a list of questions. I’ll try to answer as many as I can and as best to my knowledge, but there’s a lot to consider here.”

  “I’m aware and understand just how involved this process is.” I swallowed over the lump in my throat.

  For the next thirty minutes or so, we discussed the different avenues and approaches that were available to me. Went into further detail about my and Tyler’s medical histories as well as some questions she had regarding my answers on the questionnaire.

  Sitting there, my mind spun with the mile-long list of questions that began disappearing one by one. I wish I had written them down instead of trying to remember off the top of my head
. Coming partially prepared should have been my first sign that I wasn’t completely prepared and needed more time. Then I reminded myself that all I was there for was answers. Decisions could come later.

  But if I’m not prepared, how am I going to get the answers I need?

  “Since the military initiated their pilot program, there has been an influx of interested persons in cryopreservation. In my professional opinion, their deciding factors are running on pure emotion rather than doing their research, and I’d hate for this to be the case with you.”

  I took a second to absorb just exactly what she was saying.

  “Before coming here, I did some research on it. I also have my sister for moral support. She had asked me a few questions that could pose concern, but really, I’m here today to get answers. I knew I would need time to think this through.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. It’s incredibly important to have the people who are close to you help guide you through this.” She paused for a second. “Then there are other things to think about, the unpleasant possibilities.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, there are a few things actually. Cost is always a concern for most.” I nodded even though it wasn’t a concern for me. “Have you thought about what you would do if you decide you no longer wanted go through with the procedure? Would you offer Tyler’s gametes for research or would you want them disposed of?” I sat there with a blank face and the air evaporating from my lungs. “Then there’s the option of offering it to another recipient.” My lips parted, but she held her hand up. “Please, let me explain.” I nodded, hoping I wouldn’t faint. As selfish as it may be, there was no way in hell I would let another woman carry Tyler’s child. “Assuming Tyler’s parents are still living, this would give them the choice, should they want it, to seek out a surrogate.”

  Well, that was the hardest proverbial slap to the face I’d ever felt. Not once did I think about Roger and Sue Gibson. What if they wanted a grandchild, someone to carry on the Gibson name? This was going to be a lot harder than I thought.

  “I never thought of that,” I whispered as shame filtered through me. I had only been concerned with my feelings and wants. “By any chance, did Tyler have an opinion with any of that?”

  “No. He made it very clear that all decision making be left up to you.”

  When I finally let it all sink in, a sarcastic chuckle bubbled in my chest. God, was I a fucking joke to actually be considering all of this? This is the kind of shit that was made for a reality show or some talk show that thrives on twisted life events. This kind of thing surely didn’t happen in real life. Right?

  I could see it, Easton sitting beside me, offering his never-ending support. Bright stage lights beaming down on us while the host asks all sorts of sordid, demoralizing questions, making a mockery of Easton and me on live television.

  The kicker would be that they would have found out somehow that Tyler never died. That he was alive and well. Explain in explicit detail how his jet was shot down in the middle of the Indian Ocean and he miraculously survived on some deserted island. Only to have him enter from left stage with an exotic Eastern Indian woman by his side and a child in his arms—his child. Our eyes would lock, emotions would rise, and I would die inside all over again.

  In my heart, I knew Tyler was gone and never coming back. If there were even the slightest of chance that he might still be alive, he would never have visited my dreams. Never would have given me a sense of false hope. He loved me too much to put me through that kind of turmoil and heartache.

  My head started to swim, and my stomach roiled, thinking I was going to be sick. With all the answers I could handle, I searched the office for anything that would tell me the time, wanting nothing more than to leave.

  “Lilly.” Dr. Hardy pushed a couple of pamphlets across the top of the desk toward me. “I’d like for you to look these over. There’s a lot of information that could be helpful to you. Please consider contacting one of the therapists. Their numbers are in each brochure. Each one of them specializes in these types of cases and would be of great help to you. You don’t have to do this alone, Lilly.”

  I appreciated the sincerity in her voice.

  “Thank you.” I reached for the information and nervously tucked it into my purse. “I appreciate your time and all the information you’ve shared.” I stood, and Dr. Hardy followed with her hand held out. I shook her hand, thanked her again, and walked out.

  Anxiously exiting the fertility center, I released a long, drawn-out breath, made a mental note to call my sister, and then drove to the flower shop.

  I needed to see him.

  Feel his arms around me and listen to him tell me we’d be okay, we’d figure it out together.

  When I parked my car and got out, the swarm of butterflies took over. My heart rate jumped, equally excited and nervous to see him. Two days of no contact made me realize I needed Easton in my life.

  Entering the flower shop, I looked around, hoping Easton would be close by. He wasn’t. The place was empty. Casually browsing around, I grabbed a bundle of spring flowers, taking note of the last time I had taken flowers to Ty’s grave. After I set it on the counter, I did my customary search for a sour apple lollipop and waited for Mrs. Wilkes to finish what she was doing and cash me out.

  “Hello, Lilly. How are you, dear?” She greeted with a big smile and kindhearted voice.

  “I’m good, thank you.” I wrung my hands together and asked, “Is Easton here by any chance? I should’ve called, but—”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Here’s not here, dear. He went back to New York. Did he not tell you?” The look of confusion and the worry in her eyes made my jaw drop along with my heart.

  I swallowed hard and slowly shook my head. “No. He didn’t.” New York? “Did he say when he might be back?”

  “No, I’m sorry.”

  He said he would be here waiting. How could he just up and leave?

  “Did you see him at all before he left?”

  “I did. I was a little confused at first when he came in, mumbling about how he just visited his grandmother’s grave and needed to take her some flowers.” She gave me a look I couldn’t quite understand. “Just by looking at him, I knew something was bothering him. Then he said he wasn’t feeling well and asked for the day off. Of course I agreed since he’s been working nonstop since he moved here. Bless his heart.” Her expression and tone changed, and that was when I really started to worry. “Later that afternoon, he came downstairs, bags in hand, looking quite upset—distraught even. Said he was going back to New York and had a flight to catch, so he’d call later to explain. He rushed out the door, and I haven’t heard from him since.” She paused, staring at me as if I held the answer to him rushing out. Maybe I did. “Lilly, is everything all right? He looked really upset. Did you two have an argument?”

  Upset. Distraught. Argument. Was our discussion an argument? I played back the events of that morning and the words we had exchanged. Nothing stood out that would have given me any kind of warning or indication that he might be distraught. He looked calm when he left. If our conversation bothered him that much, he didn’t show it.

  Did he come to the realization that this was just too much?

  Aware that I was probably the cause for his abrupt departure, my heart twisted. There really was no other logical explanation. I tried to hide how hurt I was, but too much had happened too fast, and I was holding on to my composure by my fingertips.

  “No. No, we didn’t have an argument. I don’t know what happened. Thank you, Mrs. Wilkes.” I took a step back, forgoing the flowers and the lollipop. “If you hear from him, could you please tell him to call me?” I didn’t wait for her to answer. I turned around and forced one foot in front of the other until I made it out the door.

  Something was wrong; I could feel it. Intuition this strong would never lie. Easton didn’t seem like the type of guy to just up and leave. But he could have very well come to the conclus
ion that this was just too much for him to take on and knew I wouldn’t be able to handle him telling me.

  “What have I done?” I mumbled, chastising myself.

  Gone. Just like that.

  Breathe, Lilly.

  I pulled my phone from my pocket and was startled by a man with strong hands grabbing my upper arms, holding me upright. “Careful, Miss,” he grated, and I looked up into the stranger’s irritated eyes. Another round of guilt hit me for being self-absorbed and careless.

  “Excuse me. I’m so sorry.” The stranger huffed and shook his head before carrying on.

  I made it to my car. Blasted the air conditioning and tried calling Easton. It went straight to voice mail. I tried again, and the same thing. I dialed four more times and all four calls went straight to voice mail.

  That was when the panic set in.

  If he left on Saturday, that meant he would be in New York already. So, there really was no reason for him not to pick up.

  Unless he doesn’t want to.

  Backtracking to the night I told him I didn’t call because I wasn’t sure if he’d be awake or not, he said he’d always pick up. Even if it was just to say good night.

  Well, why the hell would he turn his phone off?

  I crossed my fingers, pressed send again, and this time when his voice mail picked up, I left a message. “Easton, it’s Lilly. I hope everything is okay. I stopped by the flower shop and your aunt said that you had left—went back to New York. Please call me. I need to know you’re safe and that everything is okay. . .” I waited a few seconds then hung up.

  I needed to know we were okay.

  By the time night rolled around, he still hadn’t called back, and I had images of the unimaginable reasons creeping in uninvited. Did he get into an accident and was lying unconscious in some hospital bed fighting for his life? Holed up in a jail cell and had already used his one phone call? Out at some bar getting shit-faced drunk, trying to forget he ever met me? But when I thought about how much he missed his family and friends, the hardest question I had to ask myself forced its way through: Did he finally come to his senses and go back to her?