Page 50 of Forbidden Pregnancy
Chapter Twenty-Two
Myra
Present Day
Iwait in the front doorway with Michael for Cosima’s arrival. I don’t recognize the guy who drops her off, but he has black hair and he’s even taller than Michael. Maybe his cousin. Cosima hugs her brother reluctantly and when she breaks the hug and notices me standing behind him on the porch, she smiles at me and then allows the smile to break into something bigger and happier.
Every time I see CC, she has the same expression of startled excitement – like she can’t believe we’re meeting each other again. I left her a letter when I abandoned my position, but I explained it in terms a child could understand, stretching the truth so she would believe that I had a sudden financial opportunity.
I protect Cosima and her brother equally from the truth, even if Cosima knows exactly how terrifying her family can be. Knowing what I know now, that much is obvious. Even her little incident with slipping the pill in my drink can be explainedaway by how fucked up her life must have been growing up in a mob family that could hardly distinguish between tradition and hatred.
Cosima pins her bangs back with two butterfly clips at the top and she eagerly lets Michael take her bags so we can have a moment alone.
“Please tell me he hasn’t been an asshole the past several months,” Cosima says to me as she hugs me tightly, still refusing to break our hugs first even after all those years apart. Even if she’s a grown woman, and far more cool and composed than the little girl I tutored.
I don’t have good news about her brother’s attitude, but I doubt that will surprise CC.
“He won’t let me find out the baby’s sex.”
Cosima pulls away, folds her arms over her chest and for only a split second, seems disbelieving. Then, she remembers we’re talking about stubborn ass Michael who made sure that I don’t even know the exact location ofthissafehouse.
“I didn’t think everyone would react this badly,” CC says, her features contorting into disappointment as she considers the depth of mess her sudden interest in organic chemistry has caused all of us. I don’t regret the life growing inside me. I won’t ever have a chance to have another baby and even if it means being bound to my sworn enemy for life…
At least that sworn enemy is Michael Corsini. And for a brutal, annoying, and Neanderthalish one-eyed man… he has protected me.
CC glances down at my baby bump once we’ve entered the cabin living room, shutting the front door behind her. She can’t be surprised that her family would react like this. I remember how she grew up. That girl had a gilded cage – every material thing provided for her, but male family members controlling every last inch of her life.
I might have come from a much messier background with parents who tried their hardest and still didn’t have enough for me at the end of the day, but I’m not stuck in the fucked up cycle of pain, love, and dependence that these Italian folks have got going on.
Michael has to understand why I don’t want that for my future kids, even if he says it will be alright. Even the most problematic white family doesn’t run around kidnapping and murdering because they don’t approve of an interracial relationship.
CC puts her hands on my shoulders and purses her lips. For the first time since the day she broke her arm flying off that horse, I see tears welling in her eyes. Those tears take me right back to the past with fierce, gripping nostalgia before CC even speaks.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I thought a baby would change their mind. I think I ruined everything.”
Vulnerability (and tears) burst forth from CC and I wrap my arms around her instinctively.
“No,” she whimpers in even more distress. “You shouldn’t be comforting me right now.”
I hold her tighter. She might be right, but this is who I’ve always been – CC’s beacon to the outside world. I don’t agree with what she did and I won’t ever leave an uncovered drink around her again, but it’s easier to forgive CC than I expected. Michael clears his throat as CC sniffles into my shoulder. I flinch and then become suspicious that bringing CC here was part of some specific plan.
But what?
“We can comfort each other. Any interest in a 1,000 piece puzzle?”
“Those are terrible,” CC says. “But I pretty much owe you one.”
“Yes. You do.”
I don’t mind pulling out all the stops. Michael and I would have never been in this predicament if it weren’t for her sleight of hand.
“If you want, I can tell you the baby’s sex,” CC says, following me into the cabin’s cozy living room. I know CC doesn’t have medical training, so I make an educated guess.
“Did you learn dream interpretation or something?”
“No,” CC says. “I can read the cards.”
“I have no idea what that means.”
