Page 38 of Mind

Smacking his chest, I leave those thoughts and enter the present. “You always go overboard. I told you. My thoughts are free for you my love,” I kiss his lips.

“Ewww, you know that’s super icky Aunt Gigi. You will get boy cooties, and get sick and die!” she says her expression grave and unyielding. It takes everything Chase and I have to look at her without busting into laughter. “Daddy told me to never kiss boys, except for him, because daddies have a special medicine that makes them not have cooties.”

Without missing a beat, Chase turns around and faces our little angel. “I take the medicine, too. Your daddy gave me some, but it only works for Aunt Gillian. She’s the only girl I can kiss ever again. That’s why we have to get married,” he says clearly. Even I almost believe his bullshit. Anabelle, on the other hand, is convinced. No argument necessary.

Anabelle sucks in a huge breath and puts a chubby hand to her forehead. “Whew. I thought you guys were goners.”

That’s all it took to hit the breaking point. Chase and I howled in laughter, him picking her up and swinging her onto his shoulders. “You wanna go see the top of the world?” he asks.

Anabelle’s eyes widen and she nods her head. “Yes, that would be so super cool awesome!”

“Chase, I’m going to call Bree, let her know we have Anabelle this weekend and check on Phil.” Chase nods as he hits the spiral staircase. He brings her off his shoulders and leads her carefully up the stairs. “Meet you in a bit!” I holler up.

“I’ve got this, babe!” He yells back down. And you know what? He does. He’s been incredible with her, my friends, hell, with my entire life. He’s taken everything in stride and without complaint. He could have an issue with watching my guy friend’s child on our weekend, but instead, he makes it an adventure, fully commits to the cause, and seems to like it. Just proves that underneath all his gruff, over-bearing, controlling nature is a kind, sweet, and caring man. My man, and soon, he will be my husband.

My husband.

Those words have come to mean so much. I know Chase is disheartened by not getting married yet. We’d be getting married next weekend if things weren’t so screwed up and this psycho had been caught. It’s hard to believe that whoever it is has been able to avoid the police and Chase’s men up to this point. Besides Justin, I can’t think of anyone who would want to hurt me or the people around me by extension. It just doesn’t add up. It has to be simple, something orsomeoneI’m completely disregarding.

Rubbing my temples, I soothe out the tension headache that always starts when I spiral down the rabbit hole of trying to figure out who the stalker is. What’s worse is it’s probably right in front of my eyes and I’m just not seeing it.

Sighing I grab my phone and punch in Bree’s work number. “I Am Yoga, Charity speaking,” a voice I don’t recognize answers.

“Um yeah, is Bree there?”

“She’s about to teach a class. May I ask who’s calling?” she chirps happily.

“Tell her it’s Gigi. She’ll speak to me,” I say.

I hear the phone get put down before there’s a rustling and then the voice that I know can heal a broken heart answers. “Hey you,” Bree says sounding a little strained. It’s my fault. I’ve avoided talking to the girls all week. It was necessary for me to have that time to put things into perspective, see my shrink, and connect with Chase.

“Sorry I’ve been incognito,” I offer.

“No, it’s okay. After what I said…Christ Gigi, I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself,” she sniffs and I can hear the tears clogging her voice.

“None of that. Words were exchanged during a really stressful time. We’re moving on from this and not letting that bastard get in the way of our friendship. Okay? I won’t have it.” I say with as much conviction as I can through the phone.

Another sniff and what sounds like the clearing of her throat. “Yeah, okay. As long as you know that I wasn’t in my right mind. I had just found out about the baby,” she whispers the last part. “And I just miss him so much, Gigi. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.” And the tears are back.

When is this situation going to get any better? “Honey, its fine. We’re fine. Phil’s going to be fine. This baby is going to be perfect.”

“Yeah, perfect,” is her sarcastic reply followed closely by a hiccup which I know for a fact is holding back a full-blown crying session. Not good.

“Bree, are you…” I can hardly form the words. “Are you considering termination?”

Silence on the other end.

“Bree…”

“I’m here. Um, look I really need to get to class. Why did you call?”

God no. Phillip would never forgive her if she terminated the baby. He’s the biggest pro-lifer known to his sex. It’s not a religious thing or a political preference. He’s just a big believer in keeping a child against all odds. We’ve had several conversations about it over the years.

“Bree...” I try again, this time putting as much fear into my own response as possible.

“Not now,” she says stiffly ending all hope of digging further into her psyche on this issue. “Why did you call?”

“We have Anabelle this weekend. Just wanted to give you a heads up in case, you know, Phil—” I start to finish but she cuts me off.

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