CHAPTER291
“Jake. I need to get out.” I wake with a start, my head spinning and nausea coming at me as soon as my sleep addled brain comes around. It’s close and I’m going to hurl badly.
“We’re here baby, hold on, let me help you.” Jake jumps out and comes around the car pulling me out fast, just as my stomach throws up the bottle of water, I drank mid-journey, all over the gravel driveway of his mother’s house. Jake jumps back making sure his trainers don’t take a direct hit but keeps me in the crook of his arm.
“I swear that time you were aiming.” His mouth comes to my forehead and holds me against him as the retching subsides. He sweeps back my hair instinctively.
“Pay back for waking me up with a bottle of water an hour ago,” I grimace, my stomach aching from the effort and I’m rewarded with a smile. He picks me up in his arms like a child and walks me toward the house. He has no qualms about picking me up anyway; not that I am complaining.
“I can walk you know, your mom’s going to think something’s wrong,” I protest, weakly. The feeling of extreme warmth in my cheeks and forehead from vomiting is rising again. I hope this passes soon, feeling this way is the worst thing ever. I never was good with being sick or having an illness, even as a child.
“Something is wrong, miele … You’re very pregnant and look like you’re probably running a temperature again.” He scrutinizes me as he carries me up to the front door and up the wide sweeping steps. He makes carrying me seem effortless; nothing showing on his face or body and his walk seemingly unaffected.
“It’s the car, it seems to make this so much worse.” I sigh, burying my face into his neck. This is not how I expected
to greet Sylvana Carrero when seeing her again. “I should walk, Jake.”
“You’re fine like this,” he responds, with a no-nonsense tone and I know arguing is futile. Jake has become that scary, overprotective, ‘loss of a sense of humor’ father-to-be, and I’m too tired for another battle of wills.
He manages to get the front door open without letting go, and carries me inside, calling out that we’re here. My face colors at literally being carried over the threshold and wonder if Sylvana will get the wrong idea. I try not to think about how it makes me feel. I’m just getting used to thinking we have a chance at forever again; marriage is not even an idea I’m thinking about right now.
Sylvana appears from a room down the hall looking completely flustered. Her cheeks have a high spot of red on them and she’s manically squeezing a cordless phone in her hands. Her eyes go wide with both relief and absolute stress; she doesn’t seem to be phased or even acknowledge the way Jake and I have entered.
“Jacob! I’ve been trying to call you!” She strains in hushed tones, using his full name is never a good sign, quietening her voice as her eyes dart around behind her. She ushers us toward the kitchen in haste. Sylvana is normally the picture of cool and controlled, like her son, so I already have a rising sense of apprehension at her very odd behavior.
“Mamma, what the …?”
“Shhhh.” She waves her hands at him to shut him up, pushing us into the kitchen, hauling the door shut behind us when we’re standing in the cool neat interior. “Answer your goddamn phone in future, Jacob! She scowls at him accusingly.
“I was driving, it’s on silent, I wasn’t expecting anyone to call me. I was letting Emma sleep, Mamma. She’s not too well. What the hell has gotten into you?” He huffs childishly at his mother and it’s not hard to picture little Jacob as a kid being told off. I imagine that he was a bit of a handful and can only hope he has the necessary wisdom and training to handle a mini him.
“Can you two stop arguing and can you put me down?!” I frown up at Jake, with an eye of bewilderment and awkwardness, at being held aloft between a squabbling mother and son. Jake frowns then tips my feet to the floor standing me upright, pulling me into him, wrapping his arms around my shoulders to nestle me in front of him.
I feel better out of the car, recovering quickly, and it seems I’m not allowed out of an inch of his reach.
“What’s the problem? Is it Dad?” Jake almost growls:
still no love lost between father and son. When we were last here, he barely acknowledged him at all and still doesn’t
seem interested in ever giving Giovanni another chance. I wonder if having a child will make a difference to the relationship at all.
“No, it’s so much worse. Oh, and before I forget.” She leans forward and smacks Jake hard in the upper arm near his shoulder. The noise echoing a little loudly; making him jerk to the side with the connection. Sylvana has a mean swing arm, another trait for tadpole to inherit.
“Ouch, what the hell was that for?” He tenses, flexing his shoulder and I can only guess at the look he’s giving her over my head; especially if the anger radiating from him is anything to go by.
“For being an idiot. You know exactly what!” She looks at him then down at me with a softening smile and a softening of sympathy.
Oh God. Jake told his mother about our breakup.
“She’s here, isn’t she? I got her back. I’m not going to be that dumb again, I swear.” He huffs and squeezes me a little tighter. Sylvana scowls at him, then her face drops, and she heaves a sudden sigh, remembering her dilemma.
“This is what the so much worse is.” She flaps her hands with a dramatic sigh. “Marissa is here. In the sitting room.” She grimaces and both Jake and I tense up instantly. My breath catches painfully, but Jake is the first to speak.
“What the hell for?” He sounds angry, no, he sounds pissed as hell. Meanwhile I just feel sick, and emotional, and about ready to cry and storm away. This is turning into the day from hell for me.
“She’s staying with her family for the weekend and just showed up asking to see me and talk about things … She’s carrying my grandchild remember. I couldn’t turn her away!” Sylvana slaps her hands on her hips and glowers at her son.
Great. Of course, she lives near here, or is from here. When Jake met her, he was only fifteen! Why didn’t I realize this before agreeing to a house here?
“For the love of fucking God!” Jake curses, and moves me to a seat nearby, helping me slide down into it. He strokes me across the shoulder and plants a kiss on my cheek despite his obvious agitation. He moves off and gets me a glass of iced water before coming back to stand behind me, resting his hands on the back of my chair. He’s pacing to control the war of emotions going on in his head. I know his tells almost as well as he knows mine nowadays. “Fuck.” He grinds through gritted teeth.
I drink the water slowly, glad of the small task to focus
on and the cool liquid to quell my nausea; my head spinning out of control with a million emotions and crazy thoughts. The bitter pit of anxiety in my stomach expands at speed.
I wonder if you can blame murder on pregnancy hormones? Some sort of mental breakdown and loss of faculties?
“Language, Jacob!” Sylvana glares at him, then pats me on the shoulder, and walks to the fridge hauling out a bottle of wine.
“We need something stronger,” she exclaims, waving the bottle toward us with a wicked smile."
