Another update. Many many thanks to my beta
Leigh@LHD :hugegrin:
A word of warning though: This chapter starts out light and fluffy and gets a bit dark and angsty. Just a warning.
~~~~
Just as I suspected, Mac’s face held a priceless expression. Like the little boy whose neighbor ran over his favorite toy.
I stood there and watched him. I watched the realization that I wasn’t joking come to his face. I waited for the onslaught of questions such as, “Are you sure? Is it mine?” I really hope he wasn’t going to ask that question but one never knows especially when dealing with some life-altering news.
I finally spoke, “Are you…. Are you okay with this Mac?” I asked wanting him to talk, to say anything, to have some sort of reaction.
“Yeah,” He started, “Uhhh, yeah, I’m okay.” A blank expression remained on his face. He was stunned. I could tell because he kept looking past me when he spoke.
Then as if he was coming out of a trance or something he asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I smiled at him hoping to reassure him that I was okay. But more than just okay, actually, I was more surprised and thrilled than just okay.
I wasn’t ‘bursting at the seams’ as some women are when they find out they are going to have a baby. I was happy, no more than happy, I was elated. “I am okay. I feel good and the doctor said I’m perfectly healthy and so is our baby,” I said as my hand unconsciously found its way to my middle and stopped there.
I stood there, studying the looks that would appear on Macs face as I spoke. And once more he found his trance. I had to keep talking to keep him focused on what I was saying. I wanted to pull out the sonogram image (from the hurried doctor appointment I made that day) but I was afraid I would send Mac into overload. He had a lot to digest and I wanted to give him time.
One of the things that no one tells you about being pregnant, or at least 8 weeks pregnant, was that you have to go to the bathroom every ten minutes or so. I began to walk out of the room when Mac stopped me and placed his hand on my face. I finally got to look into his eyes and know what he was thinking and his true reaction. My heart melted at that moment just like it always does when Mac looks at me that way.
We finished our dinner that I had planned for us. I had just a small glass of the wine that I opened to ‘soften the blow’ so to speak for Mac. I could
just see Mac’s disapproving eye if I had more than one glass. We talked about everything and nothing, just as we always did. After we finished eating, he picked out more of his favorite music.
We sat on the couch in silence. Not a cold, distant silence but a relaxed, peaceful, and loving silence between us. His hand rested on my knee. Sometimes we don’t need to say anything to know what the other is thinking.
“I hope he likes jazz,” Mac sort of joked after sliding
yet another disc into the CD player.
“So,” I joked back, “you’re sure it’s a boy are you? Are you willing to put up something, something worthwhile, you know, in case you are wrong?” I smiled.
“Oh, I’m not wrong,” he said after sipping more of his wine. “In fact, I’m willing to bet my name on it.” He smiled his sly smile.
“What makes you so sure? It’s not like we’ve been in this situation before. What makes you so sure you will have a son? Who’s to say that inside my body I’m not growing YOUR daughter?” I patted my stomach as we continued our lighthearted conversation.
“Okay,” he played on, “If I am wrong and you are carrying a girl then you give me your name in exchange for mine….”
“Wait,” I cut him off, “are you saying you want to get married?”
“That’s what I’m saying. I’m saying that you have to marry me if we have a daughter.”
“Well Mr. Taylor, what happens if we have a son?”
“Well then, you also have to marry me if we have a son.” He commented in an ‘all too serious’ tone. I was sort of hoping he was kidding, but I wanted to make sure. I continued to go along…..
“So let me get this straight, so if we have a daughter, I have to marry you. Is that right?”
“That’s right,” He said in that cryptic way of his.
“And if we have a son instead, I still have to marry you?”
“Umm hmm,” Was all he replied. He stood up after finishing his wine. I knew that look he had in his eye. I was drawn to him and I got up and walked over to where he was, in front of the bedroom door. Another moment where we didn’t have to say anything to each other…….
We made love. Mac was so kind and so gentle. At one point, I told him it was okay to touch me; that I wasn’t going to break. He whispered endearments into my ear the whole time. Something that Mac doesn’t normally do when we make love. But things were different now between us. We were going to have a child.
I wasn’t sure if Mac was serious about getting married or not. I thought he was just playing along with the game. It’s something we used to do a lot before we were a couple. It’s something I missed. But I’m glad we haven’t lost the thing that made us… well…us. The way we used to talk, and to joke, and to play around with each other.
I couldn’t help but ask after we made love, “So, were you serious about getting married?”
He rolled from his back to his side and faced me. He stroked my hair and in what I believe was his most honest answer, he said, “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
That was the last time either one of us brought up the subject of marriage.
I did sense something else, something different about Mac. Something that wasn’t there before, vagueness if you will. Something that was not like Mac.
I was beginning to worry and have these nagging feelings, which our own little utopia would fall apart. But it didn’t collapse, or at least like I thought it would, it just changed. A change that neither Mac nor I were ready for.
~~~~
Two and a half more months passed. It went by so fast that I hardly remember the night I told Mac about the baby.
You see, a case came up that required, no I should say demanded our attention. All of our attention. Everyone at the crime lab was on board with this case. Mac made sure of it.
A serial rapist began a horrible spree across the NYU campus. No young woman wanted to come home from studying to see her roommate nearly strangled with her clothes strewn about the place. That was just the first case. The crimes got worse. The last victim he wound up killing. It was horrible. Horrible for everyone involved. Horrible for us at the lab. The city demanded the ‘buddy system’ for everyone leaving after dark. And most of all it was horrible for Mac and me.
At that time I was about 4 months along. Funny, no one really could tell that I was pregnant at all. I wore a lab coat most of the time at work and I steered away from anything form fitting. Mac’s shirts were a temptation, but too much of a giveaway.
I think it was Lindsay who finally blew my secret to everyone. Adam had a huge grin on his face every time he saw me. Even when everyone was busting themselves to catch the rapist, Adam always wore a big smile in my presence. Mac told him one time to wipe the smile off his face or Mac’s would do it for him.
Adam didn’t take Mac’s threat seriously and that’s what I love so much about Adam. He rolls with the punches and doesn’t complain about anything. I considered him my steady rock some of the time when things got ‘too heavy’ around the rest of the lab.
Lindsay and I were working on some evidence most likely tied to the rape case. We were both exhausted but more than anything I had to pee. I learned to ignore the nausea that was morning sickness. Whoever tells you that morning sickness just happens in the morning, well they are wrong.
I excused myself to go to the bathroom and began to walk down the hall. A huge pain and I mean HUGE pain doubled me over in no time. I stood frozen in the hallway with my hands crossed over my belly. I felt like I was protecting the baby. I couldn’t move. I willed myself to breath but my breaths were falling short as the pain got worse.
“Stella, are you okay?” Lindsay’s panicked voice asked as I felt her body next to mine.
“Yeah, I’m okay, it’s ….. it’s …. “I almost spilled my secret myself forgetting that the lab didn’t know that I was pregnant. “I’m okay,” I panted hoping to see Mac coming down the hall. But no such luck.
“What can I do?” She asked sounding even more panicked from the minute earlier. “Are you okay? Are you sick? Can I get you anything?” The onslaught of questions didn’t come from Mac, they instead came from Lindsay.
Now Lindsay Monroe was a nice girl. And that’s what she was to me, a girl. She will always be ‘the country girl who tried to make it big in the city’. She has a great smile, was friendly enough and knows chemical compounds like the back of her hand. She’s a good CSI, but the two of us will never get along and still don’t get along as more than co-workers. Having Lindsay at my side at that time was more than a little unnerving. Something about her demeanor made me feel like I would have to take care of her at some point, not the other way ‘round.
“Mac,” Lindsay breathed, “I’ll get Mac.”
All I could do was nod before I spied her body fly down the hall.
Less than 5 minutes later, Mac and Lindsay quickly make their way down the hall towards me. I was still frozen in the hallway and I managed to extend my hand to the wall for leverage. My other hand still sat on my belly.
“What is it?” Mac’s voice was the first one I could focus on. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said as I cocked my head towards Mac. “It’s nothing, I’ll be fine.” I firmly stated.
I felt Mac’s hand on my back and I knew I was going to be fine. I wasn’t sure I could say the same about Lindsay.
She had even more questions than before and was ready to fire them off again. “Are you sure you are okay Stella? You gave me quite the scare. Do you think it was something you ate? You are as pale as a sheet. Do you want to sit down?” Then she stopped, only to take in a breath, “Is it the case? Is it too much for you? Because if it is, I can handle the rest of the evidence by myself.” She went on.
I had had enough and before she could start again with her questions, I just blurted it out much in the same way that I did with Mac, “I’m pregnant.” I announced with Mac standing right next to me.
Turned out it was nothing more than indigestion mixed with heartburn. I didn’t have a clue at the time and was really scared. I thought for sure something was wrong with the baby, but I didn’t let on, even to Mac. He insisted that I go to the doctor but discreetly. It’s not like we were purposely keeping it from everyone, but the lab was small enough. Mac and I didn’t need any gossip on top of our relationship that was coming apart.
The case brought back Mac’s insomnia. There were a couple of nights when I woke up to go pee (what else?) and there was only an empty space next to me where Mac should have been sleeping. He was up, drinking bad coffee, sitting at the table poring over file after file about the rape case. I know it was really hard for Mac. He needed to find a reason, needed to find out how this guy worked, to find the connections then eventually to catch him. That’s the way Mac worked. But it was so hard for me to see him like that.
Not only did the insomnia come back but that insecurity about Mac that I sensed, it turned into something worse, he became cold. Not just any cold, but frigid cold. He was cold towards the people in the lab, towards the victims, and most of all, cold towards me. It was an icy sort of, distant aloofness that could be warmed in anyway. It was a hardened coolness. Like a hard shell that couldn’t be broken. Even after he lost Claire, in a time when it was expected that he would be unfeeling toward the world, he had some warmth to him. I even made him smile now and again. This, this was different. And it was apparent to everyone in the lab. Mac turned into something I thought he would never become, heartless.
All I could do was stand back and watch him. Watch him as he berated lab techs, snapped at police officers to do their damn job, and growled at anyone that got in his way. We, we hardly said two words to each other, either at home or in the lab. He kept an angry look on his face for a long time. The only communication between Mac and I was about the case. I though I could stand it at least for a while. I knew, or at least I thought I knew, his detachment and downright meanness would end as soon as this case was over. That was what I hoped anyway. But I was wrong.
Weird phone calls started coming. On more than one night when I woke up alone in the bed, I found Mac on the phone laughing and smiling. Something he hadn’t done in a long, long time. I couldn’t describe the feeling that came over me when I heard Mac laugh. I was more than jealous, I was envious. Whoever was on the other end of the line got Mac to do something that I couldn’t. It almost ruined me.
Once I picked up the phone and I heard a woman’s voice on the other end. It was odd. I thought I had heard that voice before. A clean, clear, crisp British accent asked for Mac after I said “Hello.” Mac quickly picked up the other phone. I knew exactly who it was on the other end, Peyton. Part of me wanted to listen in, but I knew better. Why would I invade Mac’s privacy? But I thought it could explain his very heartless behavior lately.
Days went by. All of the odd things about Mac (his icy behavior, the calls from Peyton) I filed in back of my mind as we gruelingly went to work. The rape cases took all our time. Everyone at the lab was too caught up in doing their job to notice Mac and I started to drift apart let alone that I was beginning to show.
A break in the case came when it was very much needed. All the evidence we collected created about three people of interest. There was nothing more to do than to sit and listen to the interviews and how this guy begun to seek out and then what he would do to his victims or to go home. I chose the latter. I couldn’t stomach listening to all the details. Processing the evidence while keeping my lunch down was hard enough, I didn’t want to stay and listen to it again.
At this point in our relationship, I didn’t even bother to tell Mac I was leaving the lab, I just left. Home was a different story. The once cozy little apartment where we lived, loved and spent our time together in became just as cold as Mac. It felt hollow and empty. There were plenty of furniture and trappings about to make it feel like a home. It wasn’t.
There were no pictures, no warm sentimental keepsakes and certainly no items leaving any sort of clues that Mac and I were going to have a baby. No crib, no blankets, and not a single stitch of baby clothes. Coming home made me feel more alone than I already did.
I was bound and determined NOT to let our relationship die. Yeah, we were under a great deal of stress. Yeah, we circled around each other avoiding eye contact and every thing else that we once shared. But we were still going to have a child. I was carrying his and my baby. I didn’t want him to forget that. So, I made a dinner much like the one when I first told him about being pregnant.
I wanted to recreate that same loving, caring environment we had when I told him I was pregnant those few months back. I cooked the same thing, his favorite, garlic and lemon chicken with Spanikopita and a Greek Salad. I felt like one of those mad housewives you hear about, trying to rekindle the romance that had gone out of her marriage. Well, that was exactly what I was doing. Trying to rekindle… something…anything to get back what we once had. Because the though of loosing Mac over this, the baby, the case, Peyton, whatever was too much for me to take. I was doing whatever I could to hold on to him.
He came home in the same mood as he left the lab, foul. I read it on his face. I tried to lift his spirits, tried to make him relax in his home, our home. I offered a glass of wine. The same wine we shared that night. He didn’t even have the courtesy to refuse the wine; he just walked right past me.
So, I followed him into the bedroom where he took off his shoes, a break from his normal routine of taking them off beside the door.
I walked over to him with a smile on my face hoping he would smile back at me. I stood right in front of him as he undid his tie. With all the commotion with the case, I forgot he had put on a tie that morning. Possibly he wasn’t as dead inside as I thought he was.
“Hi,” I smiled, “how was the rest of your day?”
Nothing, he said nothing. He stood right in front of me and said nothing. I closed my eyes and thought back to night he told me he wanted me in his bed. I could feel Mac was still next to me, I could hear him breathing. I opened my eyes hoping to see something other than the same disagreeable look he carried around for days.
“Well I guess you won’t be needed that,” I said in my most happy upbeat voice reaching for his tie.
“Stella,” he finally said.
“Yeah,” I replied still smiling as I lifted his tie from around his neck and flung it on the bed. “Let me help you with your shirt,” I started. He cut me off.
“Stop, just please stop.” His voice was vacant and empty as his hands clamped over mine.
“What is it?” I felt just like Lindsay did when I told her I was pregnant. I just hoped that I didn’t have as much desperation in my voice as she did in hers that day.
He looked at me. But it wasn’t with warmth, love or caring. It was like I was a suspect. Like he had total contempt for me. Like I had done something horribly wrong. Like I was the rapist at NYU and he had finally figured me out.
I didn’t know what to do, so I asked again, “How was the rest of your day? Did you and Flack make any progress with the suspect?” I asked with the possibly that the reverse could be true. That talking about the case would open him up some and I could really talk to him. He didn’t respond.
The room remained silent. Just as silent, empty and cold as when he came home.
“Stella,” He spoke again.
I didn’t say anything as we stood facing each other in the bedroom.
His hands grasped mine still on his chest. He looked down at his hands over mine. “Stella,” he repeated. “I’m…. I’m not sure ….”
“Sure about what Mac?” I asked squeezing his hands hoping I had made progress.
“I’m not sure I can do this…..” That was all I heard him say.
He let go of my hands, stepped away from me, slid his shoes back on, and walked out of the bedroom. He walked out the apartment door. He was gone. Mac was gone.
