Castle Hill (On Dublin Street 3.5)

“Jocelyn Carmichael, Room Five, Dr. Orr. ”

Here we go. . . .

***

Braden was sprawled in the armchair, his shirt sleeves rolled up, his tie askew, and he was staring at the television as if he was only half-interested in what was going on.

He’d had a long day at work.

I’d just had a long day.

And now I was terrified. Terrified of answers. Terrified of fucking up. Of losing . . . everything.

We’d been home from Hawaii for almost four weeks and I’d been hiding my sickness from Braden ever since that first morning. After a visit to the doctor’s that day I was almost sure of the diagnosis, but I wouldn’t know until they called to confirm the results.

“Jocelyn?”

I turned my head to look at my husband.

He was frowning at me in concern. “What’s wrong, babe?”

“Nothing,” I whispered, my heart beating hard against my ribs.

“It’s not nothing. You’ve been quiet. Tense. ”

I shrugged. “I’m just on tenterhooks waiting to see if that lit agent in New York wants to sign me. ”

After months and months of rejection letters I’d gotten an e-mail back from a lit agent from one of the top agencies in New York asking me for the first three chapters of my manuscript. When she e-mailed back asking to see the rest, I couldn’t believe it. I’d been trying not to get my hopes up, and my secret worry was helping keep my mind off it.

“You sure that’s all it is?”

I felt sick lying to him. So I didn’t. Instead I got up slowly and sauntered over to him, climbing onto the chair with him so I was straddling his lap. “I wish we were back in Hawaii,” I whispered against his mouth as he ran his hands down my back. “I wish, I wish, I wish . . . ”

“Joc—”

I cut him off with a hard, desperate kiss, and that night I made love to my husband as if I knew what was coming next could change everything.

***

Ellie and Adam had fallen in love with a property on Scotland Street, and in a bid to distract me, I let Ellie set up another viewing so that the girls and I could check it out. Jo, Liv, and I followed Ellie and her estate agent around the Georgian-period flat, and for a while Ellie’s exuberance and exciting plans for the flat took me away from my problem. For a moment I even forgot I had a problem, so it was a bit like being jolted back into reality when my phone rang as we were leaving the property.

My stomach churned.

I gave the girls an apologetic smile and wandered off to the side to answer.

“Mrs. Carmichael, this is Dr. Orr. We have the results of your pregnancy test. I’d like to be the first to say congratulations, you are pregnant. ”

The world skewed to the left.

“Mrs. Carmichael?” Dr. Orr asked softly. And then his tone became more careful. “I’ll give you time to process the news. Please do call as soon as possible to arrange your prenatal care. We’ll set you up with your first appointment with a midwife. ”

“Thanks,” I somehow managed to mutter, every nerve trembling like I’d just run the New York City Marathon. I hung up and slipped my phone back into my purse.

I could hear someone trying to speak to me.

I’m going to be a mom.

Someone was questioning me.

I’m going to have a child.

“Joss, what is it?” Ellie’s frantic voice finally broke through.

I looked up at her, her pretty face a little fuzzy in my distress. “I have to go. ”

“Go where?”

“I just—” The world skewed to the right. “I have to go. ”

“Seriously, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

She was scared? She was scared! “Ellie,” I snapped, feeling an invisible hand wrap around my throat and constrict my breathing. “Just . . . ” I stopped cold at the unadulterated concern in her eyes. “I need to be alone for a little while. ”

I waited for her nod and as soon as I got it, as soon as I knew she understood I wasn’t shutting her out—I just needed space—I turned on my heel and started walking, almost running, toward the castle.

Somehow a thirty-minute walk was over in a flash. I was buying my ticket into the castle, I was hoofing up Lang stairs, and striding up onto the elevated section of Edinburgh castle where St. Margaret’s Chapel was situated. And right outside the chapel was my place.

My place with the canon, Mons Meg, and the best view of Edinburgh.

I leaned against the cannon for a moment, ignoring the tourists who were trying to get a photograph of it. Feeling its cool cast iron under my hand, I drew in a deep breath.

I was going to be a mom.

Limbs still quivering like a mess of jelly, I walked over to the parapet, leaned my elbows on the wall, and gazed out over my home.

Here was where I found my calm. For whatever reason, this place on Castle Hill allowed me to sort out my feelings, to process them, to deal with them. It was my special place. And I hadn’t needed it in a while.

But now that I was going to be a mom . . . now, on top of having Braden and Ellie and all of my family and friends to lose, I had something miraculous to lose. My child.

The tears burned in my throat, the fear becoming something raw inside of me.

“Jocelyn?”

I whirled around at the sound of Braden’s voice, knowing that everything I was feeling had to be written all over my face.