XVI. Maybe Your Baby
Do you know how I feel?
Can you feel it?
I'm talkin' to you...
I'm feelin' down, some kind of lovin'
Cause my baby done left me here
Heart is blazin' like a five alarm fire
And I don't even give a care
I feel like the world has turned on me
My dreams turned to ashes right in front of my face
I'm gettin' kind fo worried
And I feel so all upset, M-hmmmm...
Maybe your baby done made some other plans
Maybe your baby done made some other plans
I feel like cryin'
In the mornin' when I got a heartache
I can't call up the doctor for help
Cause the only person that could ever do me any good
Is sleepin' out with my best friend
I feel like I'm slippin' deeper
Slippin' deeper into my shell
And I just can't take it
This stuff is scarin' me to death
Maybe your baby done made some other plans
Maybe your baby done made some other plans
I feel like cryin'
My baby's out of work
Sittin' in THE circle
Checkin' out the guys that are passin' by...
by...by...by...by...by...by
Maybe your baby done made some other plans
Maybe your baby done made some other plans...
No other man can love you like I can
Maybe your baby done made some other plans
Maybe your baby done made some other plans
Can you feel it?
I got plans for you baby
Oh Yeah, Oh Yeah, Yeah
I just can't take it any more
You know I don't want any trouble
Now I ask myself
Do you want me baby?
Do you want me baby?
"Fore!" yells Mr. Brooks, making a clean swing and watching the ball cut through the air.
The ball lands on the ground, inches from the sixth hole as Jimmy takes off a glove, the heat of the sun reaching his fingers. Mr. Brooks nods approvingly and they walk over to the ball, the wheels of Jimmy's chair scrunching too-green grass.
All those treatments had really paid off, the sensations he could feel in his upper body that much sharper. Unfortunately, that includes his heart, which felt battered, barely moving. The altercation with Craig just intensified it, seeing him interact with Leslie, dragging up things from the past, encouraging him to let Ashley go.
But worse, so much worse, was sleeping two nights without her, having no clue where she was. He couldn't even explain to Leslie, just told her that Mommy's at a journalism conference and you'll see her soon. Lisa was really helping out, not asking questions probably because she was afraid to. She got her mom to shuttle Leslie back and forth to places, and went shopping for them after school. It took all of the courage he could find through all this sadness to phone up his own mother and tell him that Ashley left, though he didn't mention Craig. No one else knew, including his father. Jimmy definitely didn't want him to know, know that there was yet another reason to be disappointed in him. He couldn't even hold his family together.
"Thanks for meeting with Mr. Tuckett today, Jim," says Mr. Brooks, putting the ball into the hole with ease. "He's really going to help Leslie out with all the important details. Like how to sink these pesky sixth holes. It always gives me the most trouble, but not today."
"Nope, you're on a roll today," says Jimmy, smiling slightly, turning his head.
"Speaking of trouble, you look like you found out Shaquille O' Neil died. What's wrong?" asks Mr. Brooks, shouldering his club.
Jimmy chuckles nervously. "Nothing's...nothing's wrong. Just tired."
"Nah, you can't fool me. Is it work...or Leslie...or Ashley...or..."
Jimmy bristles at the mention of Ashley's name, and Mr. Brooks sighs. He puts an arm around Jimmy's shoulder.
"Every marriage has problems, Jim. You guys are just having a rough patch. That happens a lot when you're young. Don't worry about it."
"We're fine," says Jimmy, massaging his neck.
"Because if you're not, you could tell me, right? I know your mom and I weren't there for you growing up, but we care. We're here now. I don't want to see you in any more pain."
Tears burn the back of Jimmy's eyes. He finally lets a couple out, and Mr. Brooks puts his club away, leads him to a large tree where there's shade. The shadow shelters them as another party of golfers walks past, chatting animatedly.
"Is there someone else?" whispers Mr. Brooks.
Jimmy sniffles. "Yeah. He made quite the entrance at our wedding, too."
Mr. Brooks groans. "What is it with this guy? This Craig?"
Jimmy shrugs. "And she wants a divorce."
"She's just going through a phase," comforts Mr. Brooks. "You're a good husband, Jimmy, and she loves you, went through all those days supporting you. She's a good wife, but she's probably feeling a bit confined, some of those feelings being reawakened. That's okay. She'll get over it."
"Dad, that's what I thought, but..."
"There's no buts, Jimmy," argues Mr. Brooks, forcefully. "I had to fight off this other guy for your mother's affections, and now she's happy with me. She just had to realize that I was the one that made her feel that way. You're a winner, Jim, don't let this guy take away what matters. And Leslie needs a stable environment if she's training."
Jimmy's heart starts to beat wildly, beads of sweat coating the hand without a glove. His father hadn't called him a winner in a long time, not as a Degrassi coach, Leslie's coach, or a son. It astonishes him to know that he has faith in him, and yes, it worked for his dad, so why not him?
"So what do I do?" asks Jimmy.
"You send her divorce papers," says Mr. Brooks.
Jimmy scrunches up his face. "What? Dad, I want to stay married."
"No, you act like you're giving in a little, soften her, make her talk to you, because my guess is that she hasn't contacted you?"
Jimmy looks down.
"It's just like a golf game, Jimmy. You take your time, assess the distance, strike, and you're in, and hopefully it takes one hit. But I think you should add some pressure too, because that'll make her come around faster. The outcome will be optimal."
A robin flies up on a branch, just above Mr. Brooks' head, and Jimmy keeps his eyes focused on it, his fingers numb.
"I don't want to pressure her to come back to me," says Jimmy softly.
"We're not doing that. Look, Ashley has this huge conscience, okay? We're pressuring her to confront her feelings for you, which are probably stronger than these ones for Craig. Use her conscience as an advantage. You just need to poke it a little, remind her that the home she's leaving is what she loves. She's been there for five years, so obviously she was happy there. Remind her that a life without you and Les, and with this Craig, won't be happy. You get me?"
"Yeah...yeah I get it," replies Jimmy, watching the robin fly up to another branch, approaching a nest.
The robin puts its beak into the nest, and Jimmy can clearly see that it's searching, though he's not sure why. It's summer so he assumes the babies are gone.
"I'll call my lawyer," says Mr. Brooks. "Jimmy, I promise it'll turn out the way you want it. I work with big wigs all the time. Pressure's a little good for them, even if it's harsh. We'll get her back."
"Okay," says Jimmy, as the robin twitters, maybe as lonely as him. "Make the call."
II.
Paige skims through a large book, squirming with the turn of each page. The book shows the steps of childbirth, each movement, each vivid detail.
"Ew," says Paige, staring at the open cervix.
A waiter puts down an iced tea in front of her, makes a face, then leaves. She turns another page.
"Ew!" says Paige, a little more loudly, as she views a detailed drawing of the amniotic sac.
Her eyes scan a couple more pictures, then rest on a mother in a hospital gown, smiling down at her newborn.
"Ew," whispers Paige, grimacing at the mother. "I'm not wearing that."
Spinner approaches her at the bar, and Paige quickly puts the book into her shoulder bag. He grins, then kisses her on the lips.
"So I just got a compliment on the napkin holders," says Spinner, proudly. "You know, the one thing in this restaurant I picked out."
Paige giggles. "Please. Was it that guy that tries to get free French fries? He'll say anything to get them."
"Alright, okay, it was him," admits Spinner, smoothing back her hair. "You're the design queen."
Paige glances around the restaurant, feeling a nice flutter in her stomach.
"Yeah, I did a good job, didn't I?" she says.
Spinner kisses her again. "You always do. Next, we get a bigger house. I'll let you go crazy."
"You really want a house? I mean, that could take a while."
Spinner shrugs. "Uh, yeah. I can't turn around without ramming my knee into the bed in our room. It's small."
"It's intimate," says Paige, laughing nervously.
"Well, I like that part," says Spinner, blushing. "But in like three years, the money from here and the money from your business can get us a decent place. A place with more space...for kids. Hint hint."
"Babe, you're not supposed to say 'hint hint' if you say what the hint was referencing right before. You know what? Just forget it."
The hurt look on Spinner's face bothers her, but this conversation makes her antsy. Paige hops off her stool, drops her bag in a booth, sits, and refuses to look at Spinner, who continues to stare at her. She hears the small tinkle of someone coming through the door, and feels a strong hand tap her shoulder.
"Come here often?" says a voice. "I can buy you a drink."
Paige looks up to see J.T. and smiles. He wears a blue blazer, jeans, and sneakers, his hair shorter than the last time she saw him at her wedding to Spin. She gives him a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"Sweet potato, your game is still wack," comments Paige. "And yeah, sit down."
They both sit.
"How many times are you going to reject me, Paige?" says J.T. "I'm beginning to take it personally. Next thing you know, you'll invite me to your wedding to some other guy with a tongue ring who harassed me in high school."
Paige takes a menu from the table and lightly hits him with it. J.T. chuckles.
"Speaking of which, when are you going to settle down? I heard through the grapevine about a girl. Dana? Am I going to get to meet this one?" says Paige.
"Long answer, no. Short answer, no," replies J.T. "I keep my private life private. She's hot. That's all you need to know."
Paige laughs. "Mmmkay, and how is Jacob?"
"Now that, I'll talk about," says J.T., digging out his wallet and sliding over a picture of his son.
She stares at a smiling Jacob, clad in baggy shorts, holding a skateboard in one hand. She knew his adopted parents probably didn't know that J.T. had once been a skater in high school, but the thought of Jacob cutting up in school, skating on the street like J.T. amuses her.
"I guess he'll be a director too," says Paige. "He's so cute."
"Not this kid," says J.T., shaking his head. "He wants to be a wrestler. Liberty, of course, has quite a few things to say about that."
"She's still here, practicing law? I think I see her around sometimes."
"Last time I saw her, we were shooting scenes for the sketch show I was directing. She brought Jake to watch. But yeah, she rooted herself here. Me, I need to be on the move, or else I'll go insane. I really miss Jake when I'm on the road, though."
"It's amazing you guys have made it work. I remember how...well, dramatic it was for you guys."
J.T. grins, though Paige detects a hint of sadness.
"Liberty and I will always be friends, be there for Jake, care about each other. That makes it easy. Not everyone hates their ex. And his adopted parents are really cool."
J.T. puts the picture back into his wallet, puts the wallet into his pants. Paige bites her lip. Maybe she could tell him. She was closer to him than Ellie, and he'd helped her out with the whole Dean situation. Plus he was a guy, and he could tell her what might run through Spinner's mind when she dropped the bombshell.
"J.T., I need to tell you something," whispers Paige.
"Why are we whispering?" whispers J.T., arching his eyebrow.
"Because it's a secret," says Paige, glancing up at Spinner, who is still staring at her, though sometimes his eyes shift to J.T.
"Go ahead," says J.T.
"I'm...kinda pregnant," says Paige.
"Whoa!" exclaims J.T., his jaw dropping.
Paige puts a finger to her lips. "Quiet! Spin doesn't know yet. But yeah, took a test, saw a doctor, the works."
"Are you going to wait until the kid drops out to tell him? You should tell him now, Paige. Let him be there for all the early stuff. I didn't get to do all that."
Paige puts a hand to her forehead, stroking her temple. "So not ready for this. J.T..."
"None of us are ready, Paige," says J.T. "Do you think I was? I was...well, I almost peed in my pants when Liberty told me, that is, before I crashed the car. Oh, sorry, back to you. But you're married and happy and..."
"And it's so not planned," interrupts Paige. "We wanted a house. There's no place for him or her to sleep."
"Paige, you can't plan everything," says J.T. "I didn't plan to be a dad at sixteen, and it turned out well after all those ups and downs."
Paige groans. "I don't know."
"You need to talk to Spin," says J.T., glancing at Spinner. "Here, practice on me."
"Uh, I don't know," says Paige, tapping her nails against the table. "It'd be weird."
J.T. rolls his eyes. "Come on, Paige. If Spinner wasn't with you, you know you'd want me to be your baby's daddy."
Paige tries to hide a smile, but grins widely. J.T. holds out his hands, and Paige takes them into hers, staring into his eyes. She giggles, then puts on a serious face. J.T. puts on a serious face too. Paige thinks she sees something moving towards them, but brushes it off, trying her best to give J.T. her full attention.
"Honey," she says, "I'm pregnant. We're having a baby."
She hears something loud slam against the table, still holding J.T.'s hands. A notepad. She glances up, staring at a flustered Spinner.
"I can't believe...what...J.T.?" yells Spinner. "You're going to...with J.T.?"
Paige shakes, her mouth hanging open, not saying anything. J.T. has a frozen look on his face. Spinner pulls J.T. up by the collar, causing a couple of ladies to squeal with fright.
"Spinner, you're totally out of the loop, man," says J.T., trying to take Spinner's hands off of him.
"I heard it with my own eyes, seen it with my own ears...wait, reverse that. Just...get out!"
Paige manages to get J.T. free from Spinner's grasp, and stands in between them.
"J.T.'s my friend," says Paige. "Leave him alone!"
"I never liked you, man!" says Spinner. "But now...I want to wring your neck. And Paige, what were you thinking? I mean, J.T. You can't do any better? What, did he use his pump before you two hopped into bed?"
"Listen, neanderthal...," starts J.T., getting up in Spinner's face.
Paige pushes J.T. away. "You, sit. Spinner, kitchen, now."
J.T. sits reluctantly, frowning at Spinner. Taking Spinner's hand, she pulls him to the center of the kitchen, brushing past some waiters who had stopped working to check out the argument. They immediately go back to work as Spinner eyes them furiously. Paige paces the room, her hands shaking.
"Okay," says Paige, calmly. "This isn't how I planned for it to go down, but I haven't been planning a lot of things lately."
"You didn't plan for me to find out?" says Spinner angrily. "In front of my staff? In my own restaurant? Yeah, that's so sweet of you, Paige."
"It's not J.T.'s baby!" shouts Paige. "We were just acting, okay?"
Paige is glad to see the anger lifting from Spinner's face. He blows out a breath.
"Two people in this kitchen are having a baby, though," says Paige, smiling at him.
Spinner looks at the waiters, who now aren't even trying to pretend they're not listening.
"Nikolas and Tara?" says Spinner. "Aw, dude, congratulations."
The waiters, Nikolas and Tara, stare at each other, confused, as Spinner shakes their hands. Paige huffs, makes Spinner face her.
"It's you and me, Spin," says Paige. "We're having a baby."
Spinner stands in front of her, looking like his heart dropped down to his shoes. He opens his mouth, closes it again, opens his mouth, closes it again.
"Spin, say something, anything," says Paige, twisting her hair awkwardly.
He doesn't say anything. He grabs her, twirls her around, kisses her head. The staff cheers, some banging forks against the table excitedly.
"We're having a baby!" yells Spinner, smiling, throwing his hands up in the air.
"Opa!" shouts Nikolas, doing a little jig, turning Tara around with a twirl.
Spinner takes Paige's hands, leads her out into the dining area, has her sit on a stool. He leaps up onto the bar, stumbling a bit, but able to stand there with no problems.
"Boss, I just cleaned that area," moans the waiter.
"Gustavo, shut up, dude," says Spinner, ignoring the waiter sticking his tongue out at him. "Drinks are on the house, everyone! My lovely wife Paige just informed me that we're expecting. Well, she's expecting."
The customers applaud heartily, some yelling congratulations, smiling at Paige. Paige gives a quiet smile, waves to them. J.T. gives Paige a thumbs up. Spinner gives off the bar, kisses Paige's hand, and she can feel her stomach flutter. It's either butterflies that come from the baby, love, or fear.
"I'm like erratic right now," says Spinner, gazing into her eyes.
"Ecstatic?" says Paige.
"Yeah, either one of those," says Spinner, clutching her to his chest.
She pats his back, stays silent. She sees a woman enjoying her wine, maybe a little too much. The celebration is already too much for her.
III.
Sweat trickles down Craig's nose, as he encourages Eddie to move a little to the left. Eddie puts all his weight into it, and finally, the sofa is in the studio. Craig flops down on the sofa, rests his eyes on where the two drumkits and the Korg Triton used to be. Eddie sits by him, fanning himself with his Sean John handkerchief.
"Told you it would fit," says Craig. "Actually, I'm amazed it fit."
"Our studio's pretty huge. Ugh, and you have a show to do today," reminds Eddie. "I don't have to do nothin'."
Craig catches his breath. "I know this is punishment for not answering Mickey's phone calls all weekend. But still, he could have a heart."
"What heart?" moans Eddie. "All his organs are made of iron. That's why he smells all the time."
"I thought it was cheap cologne," says Craig.
"Whatever it is, he's stank for not getting you a hotel room," says Eddie.
"Thanks, man," says Craig, bumping Eddie's fist with his. "And for helping me move this stuff. I'll think of something else. Other artists sleep in their studios."
"So this weekend...something big must've happened?" says Eddie, smiling. "Maybe with that Ashley girl?"
Craig grins. "A gentleman never tells."
"You ain't no gentleman. Tell."
Craig laughs, picks up his phone. He'd promised to call Ashley, but he'd been hoping to tell her that he talked to Jimmy and reasoned something out. In hindsight, he realizes how foolish that was. A part of Jimmy was right. He wasn't giving her the time she needed.
"I'll be back," he says to Eddie, leaving the room.
He dials her number, and Ashley picks up after the third ring.
"Hello?" she says.
"I did something...stupid," says Craig.
He thinks he hears Ashley sigh on the other end of the phone.
"I went and talked to Jimmy," admits Craig. "It was impulsive and idiotic and it definitely didn't help matters. I'm really sorry, Ash. I'd tell you in person, but I have this show to go to. Then, more recording time."
Ashley's silence troubles him, but she responds in a nicer tone than he anticipated.
"Yeah, it wasn't the best move. Still, I know you...you had to wait all this time. Just don't do it again, okay?"
Craig beams. "I really want to see you."
"Aren't you working tonight?" says Ashley, laughing.
"I'll blow it off, and rescue you from your mom," says Craig. "Just...I want to see you."
"You didn't get sick of me after all that time out in the woods? Wow, I'm good."
Craig laughs.
"I'll pop by the studio later," says Ashley. "See you in action. I have to go. Doorbell."
"Okay, tonight," says Craig, then flipping off his phone.
He goes back into the studio, seeing Eddie sprawled out on the bed, that had been a sofa minutes before.
"This isn't comfortable at all, man," announces Eddie. "You can't bring a lady here or nothin'."
"Well, that's disappointing," says Craig.
They look at each other and bust out laughing.
IV.
Ashley pulls her hair into a ponytail, grateful to be the only one in the house. Both her mother and Jeff were working, Kate's cat, Whistler, being the only living creature in the house with her. Whistler hisses as Ashley picks him up and heads for the door.
"Shh, Whistler," she coos to him, opening the door. "Be a good baby."
Liberty, dressed in a prim, plum-colored dress suit, grins at her, her long, curly hair piled in a neat bun. She looked every bit a lawyer, though something about her looked at ease. She carries a manila envelope in her hand.
"Liberty!" exclaims Ashley, giving her a small hug, causing Whistler to meow unhappily. "You ring soft. I barely heard the bell."
Liberty nods. "Cute cat," she says, staring at Whistler.
Ashley smacks her lips, drops Whistler, who happily scampers away.
"Come in," encourages Ashley. "I haven't seen you since...when you, me, and Emma went out to eat a few months ago."
"Oh, yeah," says Liberty. "That was nice. Um, can we sit?"
Ashley searches Liberty's face, detects a hint of sadness in her voice. She hopes nothing's wrong with Jacob. She leads Liberty to the couch, and they sit.
"Ashley, this is really hard," says Liberty. "You have no idea."
The tempo of Ashley's heartbeat starts to increase. "What is it?"
Liberty presents her with the envelope. "Jimmy...these are divorce papers. I'm assuming Mr. Brooks used his political sway to get this done rather quickly."
Ashley blinks at Liberty, confused. Maybe he did listen, thinks Ashley. She relaxes her muscles. She knows it must've taken a lot out of him, especially after seeing Craig. This was really good of him.
"It's...it's expected, Liberty," says Ashley, starting to open the envelope.
"That's not it, Ashley," says Liberty, stopping her from going any further. "I asked to come over. They would've sent someone else, but I knew it might be better if it came from someone you know. I saw these papers and knew I had to be the one to be here. I'll help you anyway I can."
Ashley's chest starts to ache. She has to admit. Everything seemed ominous since Liberty stepped through the door.
"What is it?"
Liberty clutches Ashley's hand. "He's asking for sole custody of Leslie."
Every part of Ashley's body feels numb. She's not even aware she's crying, just trying desperately to catch her breath.
"What?" exclaims Ashley. "He can't...can't do this!"
"It's not uncommon," says Liberty. "Ashley, it's not definite at all. I'm a really good lawyer. I can help."
Ashley struggles to breathe. Whistler jumps on the couch, purrs, and settles his head into her lap.
"I'm a good mom!" cries Ashley. "I don't deserve this!"
The shouting makes Whistler jump and head for Kate's bedroom.
Liberty reaches out to hug Ashley, but Ashley pulls back, runs out of the door, stands on the sidewalk, releasing every tear, stamping the ground. How could he be that cruel? They'd known each other since they were eleven, and she'd supported him through everything. Everything. The thought of never seeing Leslie ate away at her heart.
She sees a cab heading towards her, checks to see that she has money. She does. Thirty bucks, not much, but enough to get her to where she needed to go. Crying all the way to the studio, instead of going up, she sits in a nearby bathroom for hours, wanting to be alone, not wanting to be seen, disgraced. She feels so dirty, and doesn't even look in the mirror when her watch says ten-thirty. Craig would be back by then. She stumbles into the elevator, pushes thirteen, wiping her eyes.
Surprised to find the door unlocked, she enters, seeing Craig plucking away on his guitar, singing. Craig spies her through the glass of the booth, puts his guitar in its case, and comes out smiling.
"Hey, Ash!" says Craig, his face falling when he sees her red eyes.
Eddie peers at her as well, shrugs at Craig, and leaves them alone.
"What's wrong?" says Craig.
Ashley throws herself into his arms, her eyes misty, her heart thumping.
"It's okay," whispers Craig.
"He's taking her away from me," whispers Ashley. "He's taking her away."