by Amy Pine
“My parents—your grandparents—were children of the Depression,” Evelyn would always say. And still did when the occasion called for it. “They came from nothing and built a business from the ground up.”
“And then their furniture store went belly-up when Grandma and Papa got divorced because of all the legal fees. Dad lost his job because of it. It was a local scandal,” Alissa or Becca would chime in since they knew the story by heart.
“And that’s why we need to show the community that it didn’t break our family,” Evelyn always added.
That was twenty-five years ago. Alissa and Becca’s father had gone on to become a top salesman at a local high-end furniture chain. And Evelyn, now a retired art teacher, had made enough back then to carry them through the tougher financial times. Alissa doubted her grandparents’ divorce and subsequent business failure was that big of a scandal for her parents. But Alissa getting pregnant only a few years later—when she was still in high school—probably didn’t help matters. And despite her parents supporting her and helping her raise Gabi, Alissa couldn’t help but think that her mother’s fixation on image was the other woman’s way of compensating for Alissa’s mistake. She couldn’t wait to see how her mother would react to the news of pregnancy number two.
Even now Evelyn insisted on keeping up with the Joneses, which meant wanting her girls to keep up too, and Alissa was more of the just-get-by type. Like her hair—per usual it was piled in a messy bun on top of her head. And despite her apron, her navy sundress was dusted with flour.
“Look at my beautiful girls.” She hugged Becca first—Becca, the baby sister who did everything right. College, medical school, marriage, babies. And now she delivered other people’s babies. Not that Alissa was jealous of what her sister had. But it was still weird to feel like she was living in her little sister’s shadow when up until the age of eighteen, she’d felt like Becca’s idol.
“Well,” her mother said, stopping in front of Alissa. “You’d be even more beautiful if you did something with that hair. Come to my salon with me. We can make it a girls’ day!”
She hugged Alissa, but Alissa groaned. This was nothing new, all par for the course. But today, with Gabi coming home, with the secret Alissa was carrying and all the people who would be affected by it, Evelyn Adler’s nitpicking seemed to suck the air out of the room.
“There’s nothing wrong with my hair, Mom. And it doesn’t matter what it looks like anyway. I work with food, so whether it’s curly or straight, it’s on top of my head and covered with a scarf or net. As long as the cookies and cakes taste good and no one’s eating my hair, no one cares what it looks like.”
Her mother released her from the embrace but kept her hands on Alissa’s shoulders as she stepped back to take a better look. “Are you sick? You look pale.”
Alissa blew a rogue curl out of her eye. “I’m fine. It’s probably just flour.”
Her mother narrowed her eyes. “Are you getting enough sleep? You look exhausted.”
Alissa gritted her teeth and looked past her mother to her giggling sister.
“Why don’t you get the third degree like I do?” she asked, and Becca shrugged.
Evelyn waved her question off. “She’s got a husband to worry over her. Plus, she’s a doctor for crying out loud. Do I really need to worry about a doctor? But if I don’t worry about you, who will?”
Alissa threw her arms in the air. “Oh my God, Mom. I’m not some lonely nineteenth-century spinster who’s been shunned by society because no man wanted her. I have a daughter. A sister. Plenty of friends. If I need someone to worry about me, I’m covered. But guess what? Pastry chefs can take care of themselves too.”
As for a single-mother pastry chef who got knocked up by her ex? There wasn’t a sample large enough to do a proper study on how well they fared, but Alissa was ready to prove she’d be a positive statistic.
Her mother huffed out a mirthless laugh. “Oh, sweetheart. You always were one for the melodrama. Now what can I help with?”
Alissa’s phone vibrated on the island, causing it to teeter over the edge.
“Oh no!” she cried, diving for the device before it hit the floor. She caught it—just as her temple caught the corner of the countertop. “Shit!” Stars momentarily blurred her vision. Then she regained her focus and read the message on her screen. It was Gabi.
Almost there. Can’t wait to see you! Love you!
Alissa’s throat tightened, and her heart grew to double its size. After two long months, her baby girl was home, and nothing could make this night anything other than perfect.
“What?” She looked up from her phone. Her sister and mother were both staring at her in horror, eyes wide and mouths in perfect, silently screaming O’s.
“You’re bleeding,” Becca said.
Alissa opened the camera app on her phone and put it in selfie mode. Then she shrieked, and not only because the angle was the unflattering, double-chin type. Her sister was right. The rendezvous between her temple and the corner of the island had seriously left its mark.
Blood darkened the outer edge of her eyebrow. Usually that wouldn’t make her squeamish, but the blow to the head plus the fact she’d barely eaten today was making her light-headed. She needed fresh air. Now.
“Don’t follow me!” she shouted and hoped to God that Becca could keep her mother at bay. This certainly wasn’t how she wanted the woman to find out. It wasn’t how she wanted anyone to find out.
She ran with shocking speed through the dining room and out the front door before collapsing on the front porch and hanging her head between her legs.
This was good. It was cooler outside. Even though her kitchen was spacious enough, it felt claustrophobic the second her mother walked in.
“Evening, Freckles.”
A whole new feeling rocketed through her, the one that always did when Matthew called her by that nickname.
For a second she felt like maybe he’d wrap his arms around her and tell her everything would be okay. And for a second Alissa basked in the safety and security of having a partner in all of this.
Then she reminded herself that every time Matthew Bloom blew into town, old feelings emerged, the sound of his voice like muscle memory bringing to the surface what was better left buried.
They’d made a promise long ago to put Gabi first, a promise that had somehow grown into an unexpected friendship between two people who’d been each other’s first loves.
She took a shuddering breath, then pushed herself to her feet, dusting off her dress.
There he was in his gray T-shirt, his green cargo shorts. The silver strands in his sandy hair, the only visible sign that he wasn’t as young as one might think, twinkled in the sunlight. Why did it look so good on him? Why did she still get that silly flutter in her belly every time she saw him again for the first time?
She shook her head. Nope. Must ignore flutter. That was why they were in the situation they were in.
His eyes widened, much like her mother’s and Becca’s did just a few minutes ago, and she remembered the gash on her temple.
“Liss,” he said. “Jesus. What happened to you?”
She laughed. Because what else could she do? At this point she didn’t have it in her to filter whatever came out of her mouth—words or anything less pleasant—so the truth escaped before she had time to think.
“What happened? I’ll tell you what happened. You and I happened. Again. Found out before the crack of dawn that I, my friend, am pregnant. Surprise!” She made jazz hands and winced. “Actually I guess we’re pregnant since I didn’t do it all by myself. It’s yours. The baby, I mean. I was going to get an ultrasound today, but then Becca made me feel guilty. Actually I made me feel guilty and figured it was only fair to tell you first before seeing the heartbeat. And it’s also possible I might be concussed, need stitches, or both.” She threw her arms in the air. “What’s new with you?”
He blinked, stared wide-eyed, and then blinked
again.
“Did I just make you catatonic?” she asked. “Is it an out-of-body experience? Can you see yourself paralyzed while you stare into the bright light of an oncoming train?” Because that was what this afternoon had felt like. Her life had gone from a smooth glide to careening off the tracks, all because she and Matt had let nostalgia get the best of them after Gabi’s college graduation.
He still didn’t say anything.
“Okay,” she said slowly, going for the more gentle approach now. “Blink once if you’re okay, twice if I should call nine-one-one. Maybe the ambulance service can give us a two-for-one deal.”
“A baby?” he finally said. “A baby. You and me. We made a—but how did—”
“Well, Matthew, sometimes, when a man and woman give each other a special kind of hug…”
He rolled his eyes, and she knew he’d come back to the land of the living.
“But we used a condom. And you’re—”
“Of advanced maternal age?” she said. “Were you going to go there? Because the doctor—who of course is my sister—did. But I guess my eggs still have a little spring in their step, as do your swimmers. And in case you forgot, Gabi, our amazing adult daughter, is also the product of But we used a condom!” She shook her head and let out a bitter laugh.
Matthew grabbed her hand—and smiled. “We’re having a baby, Liss. Another baby. Holy shit.”
Oh no, no, no. He didn’t get to have this charming, even loving reaction when Alissa was freaking out. “I never said we were having it. What I mean is, we haven’t discussed options. There needs to be a discussion, right?”
He let her hand go and crossed his arms over his chest.
Had she—offended him? He didn’t want this. He couldn’t want this. Matthew Bloom was a man of the moment, blowing whichever way the wind took him. He certainly didn’t want another child. But that we. The smile. Her hand in his. It all made her dizzy.
And because timing was a tricky son of a bitch when it wanted to be, a car pulled into the driveway before Matthew had a chance to say anything else. Instead he pulled a folded Starbucks napkin from his pocket and gingerly pressed it to her wound.
“Right. Thanks.” She took over holding the napkin in place. Her fingers brushed against his as he lowered his hand, and she tried to ignore the jolt of electricity between them.
There was no way he was happy about this baby. He was just as excited when they’d found out they were pregnant with Gabi, and look at where the two of them were now—divorced longer than they’d ever been together, Alissa with a bleeding head wound, and Matthew almost making her believe that this could be their second chance.
Alissa knew what We’re having a baby meant. It meant she’d have a baby, and he’d swoop into town one day a year from now with some exotic gift for the kid and stories about how he’d saved a portion of some rain forest or designed a new park for a city somewhere in another part of the country.
The two finally faced the idling vehicle, and Alissa held her breath as the door opened and Gabi climbed out—followed by a young man. The two of them headed toward the trunk, which the driver had popped open. She said she’d met someone, but she hadn’t said she was bringing him straight home from the airport.
“Does Gabi know that you’re having a baby?” Matthew asked through a teeth-gritting smile.
“Of course not.” Her own painful smile was plastered from ear to ear. “I wanted to tell you first. I’m not expecting you to rearrange your life for this. I just wanted you to know.”
Matthew’s jaw tightened even more. “When did I become the villain here, Liss? You know, I didn’t come here today just to welcome our daughter home. I came to tell you that I’m home. In Chicago. For good. Does that mean anything to you?”
The man with Gabi—no, he was a boy, a kid, just like her—slammed the trunk shut, and Alissa startled, sucking in a breath as she turned to briefly stare at Matt.
“How can it mean anything different than all the other times you’ve said it?” she asked, a knot in her stomach.
But he didn’t have a chance to respond.
“They’re coming,” he said instead, with a forced smile—forced until she saw him make eye contact with his daughter, and then he simply beamed.
Alissa felt light-headed.
Gabi and her companion approached, travel backpacks secured over their shoulders and, because Gabi was Gabi, a camera around her neck.
Alissa’s daughter radiated complete and utter bliss while her companion smiled confidently, not knowing the mess he was about to step into.
With each step, Gabi’s pace quickened until she was throwing her backpack onto the lawn and launching herself at Alissa and Matthew.
“Oh my God! You’re both here!” she cried, wrapping them in a hug.
For a second Alissa forgot her injury, her pregnancy, her mother likely waiting inside to pounce and give her the third degree. She gathered her daughter into the biggest hug as Matthew wrapped his arms around the two of them, and as the three of them stood there, everything else melted away.
Gabi was home, and for one glorious moment, everything was perfect.
When they finally released each other, Alissa watched as her daughter stepped back and slid her hand into the boy’s. Gabi bounced on her toes. She clearly didn’t notice the gash on her mother’s temple or the fact that Matthew’s teeth were still clenched.
“Ahhh!” she screamed giddily. “Mom, Dad, this is Ethan. We’re getting married!”
She stepped back and pulled up the camera, aiming it at Alissa and Matthew.
Married? Her baby was getting married? And to another baby? While she was having a baby?
Nope. Enough. Alissa was done. It was time to put a fork in this day. Better yet, she’d be all for starting it over without all the damned surprises.
She heard the click of Gabi’s camera as she snapped photo after photo. Colored spots began to cloud her peripheral vision, and for a second she wondered if, even with the sun still shining above them, Gabi was using a flash.
“Oh shit,” she mumbled. Not a flash. This was much, much worse—finally, her body having had enough.
“What?” Matthew asked.
“Catch me,” she said.
And then everything faded to black.
Chapter Five
Matthew Bloom was having an out-of-body experience. His daughter was getting married, and his ex—his pregnant ex—was bleeding from the temple and passed out in his arms.
Had she passed out because of low blood pressure? Because of Gabi’s news? Or had it been him with the whole we’re having a baby and dropping the bomb that he was home for good?
For years he’d tried to float the idea of coming home—and for just as many years Alissa had made it clear that she didn’t want him to do any such thing. Now that he’d gone and done such a thing, was he too late for it to make a difference?
“Mom!” Gabi cried. “Oh my God. Is she okay? She’s never fainted before in her life.”
The fear in his daughter’s voice reeled him back into the moment. It would be easy to reassure her. To say, Don’t worry, sweetheart. Your mom gets low blood pressure when she’s in her first trimester. This is normal. But Matthew Bloom didn’t have a death wish, which meant there was no way in hell he was spilling the pregnancy news to their daughter without Alissa’s permission
“Hold the door open,” he said instead to Gabi and the guy who thought he was going to marry her. His twenty-two-year-old baby. Didn’t she still have braces? And a training bra?
Maybe he hadn’t been the physical presence in Gabi’s life he wished he could have been, but they kept in touch via phone. Email. Even the old-fashioned letter or two, and still he felt like he’d somehow missed his daughter growing up, and his gut twisted as he climbed the porch steps and strode through the front door—Gabi’s friend having already thrown it open. In another life, this house might have been the one he shared with the unconscious woman in his arms.
He laid her down on the living room couch just inside the entryway, propping her feet up with two peacock-patterned throw pillows and then kneeling beside her.
“What happened?” Evelyn Adler cried, bursting from the kitchen with Alissa’s sister, Becca.
Becca’s eyes locked on Matthew’s, and he gave her a single nod. She gasped, then covered her mouth. Becca might have known Alissa was pregnant, but he was pretty sure she’d only just learned who the father was. What were the chances of her keeping it just between them?
“I think she’s just overheated,” he said. “Probably a little dehydrated. You know how terrible she is about getting enough water.”
“So bad with water,” Becca chimed in, and Matthew knew the two were now accomplices in keeping Alissa’s secret until she woke up. “And she did just nail the countertop with her temple, so I bet the combination of—”
Evelyn gasped.
Gabi and He whose name Matthew didn’t remember nor wanted to remember both glanced up from Alissa to where the older woman was now pointing at her daughter, her mouth agape.
Alissa moaned softly and stirred.
“Go get a cold compress and a glass of water!” Becca shouted at Matthew. “And—and take my mom with you!”
Matthew stood and put his arm around his ex-mother-in-law.
“Let’s catch up, Evelyn.” He pivoted her back toward the kitchen.
“She’s—” Evelyn started. “She’s—”
“Not yet,” he whispered in her ear. “Please, Evelyn. Gabi doesn’t know.”
They were through the swinging doors now, which were far from soundproof, but the clamor of voices back in the living room was enough to assure him that no one was paying attention to what was going on in the kitchen.
“You…” Evelyn finally said as Matthew opened and closed cabinets and drawers looking for both a dish towel and a glass for water. He hated feeling like a stranger in Alissa’s house, hated even more the accusation dripping from his ex-mother-in-law’s tongue, and he knew the second they made eye contact again, she was going to eviscerate him with her glare.
