More Layers: Book Two Layers Series (14 page)

Gram gives Jaxson a pointed look—waiting for him to respond.

He clears his throat. “Yes. Thank you Henry for that. Mia...is definitely one of a kind.”

“Thank God for that,” Jules says under her breath.

Lane laughs and the boys join him, even though they don’t know why he’s laughing.

Marco clears his throat. “So, Lex, how is Cleopatra?”

I smile, conveying a thank-you for changing the tide on the conversation. I love this man. Why does he have to be a gaywad. “She’s better. We have a long ways to go, but we’ll get there.”

“Who’s Cleopatra?” Jaxson asks.

I look down at the other end of the table, wondering if he’s addressing Marco or me. I’m thinking Marco because he said a four-syllable word.

JB answers for us. “She’s a horse, Dad.”

“Someone hurt her,” Chase adds.

Jaxson looks at me for an explanation.

“Her previous owner nearly beat her to death.”

“Dear God,” he says.

“She only likes Mom,” JB says. “She’s afraid of people.”

“I’m sorry,” Jaxson adds.

“Don’t worry,” Chase tells him, “Mom won’t let people hurt her, ever again.”

“Sometimes horses need to be shown who’s the boss,” Mia says.

What the fuck?

Everyone stops eating and looks at me, then her, then back to me.

Jaxson looks nervous and clears his throat. “Mia is quite the horse woman; she’s been riding for years.”

Well, ain’t that special.

“I’ve been riding since I was five.”

“Well, that’s just special,” Sam says.

I laugh silently thinking—that’s what I wanted to say.

Lane laughs.

Mia just sits and smiles. She seems completely oblivious to what’s going on. She’s an idiot.

“Maybe I could help you with your horse, Alexia.”

Okay, I’ll bite. “Have you had experience with abused horses?”

“No, but I know a lot about discipline.”

What the fuck?

“In my experience, that’s all a horse needs. They need to learn. You are the master.”

“Mia,” Sam says, “we are talking about a horse that’s been severely abused.”

She tsks at Sam. “But how do you really know that? Maybe, she’s seeking attention and is just acting out. A hard crop is what she needs.”

I’m stunned speechless. Everyone is stunned speechless.

“Mia,” JB says, “did you know a horse can’t vomit?”

She scrunches her Barbie nose. “No. And that’s inappropriate dinner talk.”

What the fuck?

“Sorry. I won’t talk about horses. Did you know that rats can’t vomit?”

“Jaxson,” Mia whines. “You need to teach your son some manners. He needs discipline.”

“Excuse me?” I say.

“Mia,” Jaxson says and shakes his head, “don’t.”

“Mia,” JB says, “did you know that a cockroach can live for more than a week without its head?”

“That’s disgusting. Aren’t you going to do something, Jaxson?” she ask-whines.

I can’t hold it in any longer. “What would you suggest Mia—a good cropping?”

“I don’t think I’d use a crop—a leather belt would be sufficient.”

“Mia, you are one fucked-up bitch,” Sam says.

“Alexia, you would know all about being fucked-up—wouldn’t you? How long where you institutionalized?”

Everyone’s mouth drops open and looks at me.

“Lane, will you take the boys to the kitchen for some pie.”

He nods. “Okay, you two. Let’s go get some of Lester’s famous pumpkin pie.”

JB hops down from his chair and takes Lane’s hand.

Chase looks at Mia, then at me. He knows that something is about to go down.

“Chase,” Jaxson says, “it’s okay, go with Lane.”

He looks back at me. I nod. Then he stands and takes Lane’s other hand and they head for the kitchen.

I stand.

Jaxson stands. “I think we should say our good-byes.”

“Sit your ass down!” I yell.

He sits.

I look at Gram, mentally telling her not to interfere.

She nods.

“I invited you to my home because our sons wanted to spend the day with you, and I wanted them to spend the day with our family. I extended the invitation to your wife as a gesture of goodwill. Your wife will not be invited back—ever. And, because she seems to believe that abuse begets discipline, or discipline should be conducted by means of a good cropping or belting, you will not be allowed visitation without Lee or one of his staff present.”

Jaxson stand. “I would never harm my sons.”

“As long as Tinker Hell is in your life, visitations will be supervised.”

“Do you really honestly believe I’d let anything happen to them?”

“I don’t know you anymore. It’s obvious to everyone sitting at this table that you’ve lost your fucking mind.”

“Well, then you’re not alone, Alexia,” Mia spouts.”

I shoot her my “don’t fuck with me” mom look.

She swallows.

I look back at Jaxson. “Gather up your fat, jiggling, pregnant-assed, gnat brained, idiot wife and get the fuck out of my house!”

“Well, I never,” Mia says.

“Christ, woman, is that all you can say?” Sam huffs.

“You’re going to let them talk to me like that?”

“Mia!” Jaxson scolds.

Lee enters the dining room.”Mr. Ryan, Mrs. Ryan, will you please follow me?”

Jaxson looks at me. “Alexia, I ...”

“Save it, Jaxson, I’m done.”

He turns and addresses Gram. “Lizbet.”

Gram nods.

He takes Mia by the arm and they exit.

“Holy fuck,” Jules says.

“You can say that again,” Marco adds.

I sit down and raise my wine glass. “A toast to the first Thanksgiving at Grant House, New York.”

* * *

“You’re all crazy.”

“Oh come on, Lex, it will be fun.”

“Sam, I don’t like to shop—ever. You’re not going to talk me into shopping the day after Thanksgiving.”

“Oh, come on, it’s an American tradition.”

“I’m only half American. I guess the sensible sane Scottish half rules me.”

“Oh come on Lex, you could use some fun.”

“Live a little,” Marco adds.

“I’d rather have a root canal.”

“Have you ever had a root canal?” Jules asks.

“No, but I’d still rather have one.”

“If you change your mind, we’re leaving at six,” Sam says.

“No friggin’ way will I be changing my mind.”

Sam frowns. “Okay, suit yourself, I’m going to bed.”

“Hold up, I’ll walk you out to the cottage,” Jules say. “Goodnight everyone,” she adds and they leave.

“Goodnight,” I tell them and wave.

Marco and I walk up the stairs. When we get to my room we stop in front of the door.

“Are you going to bed?” he asks.

“I’ve got some overseas work to do, then I’m going to take a long, hot bath.”

“I’m sorry about your first Thanksgiving.”

“It’s not one we’ll soon forget.”

He chuckles. “You’re right about that.”

He kisses me on the cheek. “Don’t stay up too late.”

I give him a salute. “Yes, sir.”

“If you’re not going shopping, then I guess Henry and I will see you on Monday.”

He kisses me on my forehead, “Goodnight, Princess.”

“Goodnight.”

Two hours later, I shut down my laptop and put it on my nightstand. I reach over to turn off the lamp and my cell rings.

I look at the number and answer.” Hello, Alexia Grant.”

“Alexia, it’s Dr. Peterson. How are you my dear?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“Sorry to call so late. Are you free to talk for a minute?”

“Sure.”

“I had two early arrivals today and I’m waiting for another. So, I’ve been catching up on paperwork and I notice your lab results came in.”

“Is there a problem?”

“No dear, everything...is fine. Your record indicates that you had some spotting last month.”

“Yes...I did.”

“Sometimes it happens.”

“What happens?”

“Alexia, your results come back positive—you’re pregnant.”

What the fuck!
“Pregnant? But I had spotting?”

“You can spot and be pregnant.”

“Christ baby Jesus.”

“I’d say that you’re about—nine weeks.”

Ten weeks, two days and five hours
.
Goddamn edible condom!

“Alexia, are you still with me?”

“Yeah...are...you’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck me.”

She laughs. “Well, that’s not the normal response I get.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just...”

“In shock.”

“Yes.”

“I would like you to call my office on Monday and schedule an ultrasound.”

“Okay...I’ll call Monday.”

“Alexia, you don’t sound happy.”

“I’m...I don’t know how I feel.”

“It’s unexpected news. Give yourself sometime.”

“Okay, thank you, doctor.”

“Take care then.”

OMG! I disconnect and...stare at my phone. Then it hits me like a tsunami. Oh shit! Oh shit! I jump up and race to the bathroom.

After I ralph up all my Thanksgiving dinner—and my small intestines—that bitch, déjà vu, hits me like a slap. Yeah, I’ve been here before—sick, alone and
pregnant. If my head didn’t hurt so bad I’d bang it on the wall. “You stupid, stupid, non-birth-control-using, pregnant-ass, bitch.”

* * *

I awaken, startled, when I hear a sharp knock on my bathroom door. I look at my watch. I’ve been sleeping on the bathroom floor for over two hours.

“Alexia, are you in there?”

“Yeah, I’m it here,” I call. The voice registers and I blink. “Jaxson...why are you here?”

“Sorry...I knocked on the outer door and got no answer. Are you all right?”

Just peachy. “I’m fine, give me a minute.” I stand and steady myself again the wall and then walk to the sink and splash some cold water on my face. I look at my refection in the mirror. Yeah, I look like crap—pregnant-ass crap. I brush my teeth, walk to the adjoining closet and put on sweats. God bless the inventor of sweats. They are the comfort food of clothing. I walk out and Jaxson is sitting on a sofa in front of the fireplace.

He stands as I approach. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I lie; something I’m good at.

I sit on the other end of the sofa. “Why are you here?”

He sits down. “Are you sure you’re okay, because you don’t look it?”

“I’m fine, really,” I lie—again.

“I wanted to apologize for what happened at dinner. I’m sorry, Mia was out of line.”

“So...that’s what you call it when someone talks about disciplining your son with a belt and cropping an abused horse?”

“I’m trying here, Lex.”

“Don’t trouble yourself, she’s not worth it.”

“I never told her about...your time in Wales.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Are you sure you’re all right, you look...”

Pregnant. “I’m just tired. Are we done?”

“No. We need to talk about us.”

“I’ve been trying to talk to you for weeks.”

“I know...” He shakes his head. “I still have a hard time looking at you...every time I do, all I see is the woman who betrayed me, the woman who didn’t possess enough courage or scruples to tell me the truth.”

Ouch!

“Mia has issues and she’s done some rotten things. But at least with her, I know what to except. With you...it’s like jumping from one bigass roller coaster to the next.”

“I’m confused, Jaxson. Are you saying, that you would rather be with Tinker Hell because she’s predictable?”

“No. I’m not saying I want to be with her. I’m saying you drive me batshit crazy, and I can’t do crazy right now. I’m being pulled apart, Alexia. I feel like a goddamn puppet. You, Mia, my unborn daughter, my sons, each of you pulling on a string but in all different directions.”

He’s going to need another string.

“Your daughter?”

“We found out yesterday.”

Poor kid. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

I take a deep breath. “So, according to you, I possess no courage or scruples, I’m a roller coaster, I’ve betrayed you, make you feel like a puppet, and I drive you batshit crazy. Anything else you’d care to add?”

He gifts me with “The Brow,” and shakes his head.

“What are you trying to say?”

“I think we need to take a break.”

Ouch! “A break? We’ve only spent a few hours together in almost three years, and you need a break?”

“If you would have believed in me, trusted me, and told me about the boys, then we wouldn’t be where we are right now. I wouldn’t be married to Mia, she wouldn’t be pregnant and you and I wouldn’t have spent the last almost three years apart.”

“I get that not telling you about your sons was a major fuckup, but I’m not going to take all the blame. You told me you had doubts about us. Then you walked out on me and didn’t respond to any of my messages.

I begged you to respond, but you didn’t. So, I went to London not knowing where we stood and in just days I became the CEO of Grant, an expectant mother of twins, filed for divorce, and I found my lover’s ex-fucking-wife in a bed sheet in his hotel room. I was overwhelmed, devastated, afraid and alone.”

“Alright, we both messed up. Bottom line—I can’t do this anymore.”

“You’re giving up on us?”

“Lex, I can’t be...”

“Be what?”

“There can be no ‘us.’“

“You can’t...you don’t...mean that.”

He looks at me and starts to say something but changes his mind. He stands. “When you have time, we need to sit down and work out a visitation schedule. Supervised visitation,” he adds.

I sit in stunned silence. Have I really lost him? Have I lost his love? I’m finally getting my shit together and he’s rejecting me. I just don’t get it. It’s beyond my comprehension. I need a magic pussy, pronto.

“Lex, did you hear what I said?”

I can no longer hold back my tears. They flood over and run down my cheeks. I wipe them away and close my eyes and say my mantra: I’m Alexia Grant and I’m not going to run. I’m not going to hide. I’m not going to fear. I’m going to conquer and find the love I deserve. I open my eyes and he’s halfway to the door.

“I’ll...I’ll contact you on Monday,” I croak out.

“Okay,” he says and continues to walk to the door. When he reaches it, he turns and clears his throat. “There is something else I should mention. Lizbet offered me a job in PR.”