The Bloom Girls

by Amy Pine

  Like Matt’s.

  Nope. I am not going to think about Matt when I have this specimen in front of me.

  “Was dinner good?” he asked. “I don’t remember. I was too busy staring at the beautiful woman across the table from me.”

  Alissa snorted, and he raised his brows.

  “That’s funny?” he asked, not even the slightest bit unnerved. This guy was smooth. “Have you taken a look in the mirror, Alissa?”

  Uh, yeah. Every morning before I drop to my knees and pray to the porcelain god.

  She huffed out a laugh.

  He shook his head and chuckled. “I know I’m pretty new at this, but you act like you don’t hear this from every man you meet.” He cleared his throat. “Not that I’m condoning catcalling or anything like that. Am I—are the compliments over the line?”

  Alissa shrugged, her loose curls tickling her bare shoulders. It had been a while since she’d put so much effort into taming her wild mane. But she still looked like herself. Maybe just a little more put together. Her mother would be proud.

  “Depends,” she said. “As far as lines go, are said compliments exactly that? Lines? Like…pickup lines?”

  He laughed. “Alissa, we just had a really great first date. I don’t need to pick you up. In fact…” He nodded at her car. “You drove yourself.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Look,” Chris said. “I’m not looking for anything serious right now, but I’m also not looking for a one-night stand. I want to enjoy myself with someone who is looking for a little enjoyment too. So no, I’m not feeding you lines. I’m just buttering you up with the truth so that when I ask you out again, you’ll say yes.”

  She bit her lip and grinned. Even if he was feeding her a line, she had to hand it to him. It was a damned good one.

  He looked at his watch, because of course he was the kind of guy who wore a watch—who probably kept a schedule and saw his kids regularly and…

  Stop it, Alissa. You’re doing it again, leading this back to you know who, and we agreed not to think about you know who tonight.

  We? Who was this we in her head? She was losing it.

  “My son has a Little League game in the morning, and I’m sort of the coach,” he said. “So I should probably head home and get some sleep before having to deal with those monsters tomorrow. And by monsters, I mean the parents who think they can coach better than I can every time a kid misses a play or gets tagged out.”

  Alissa laughed, without snorting this time, and poked him playfully in the chest.

  “You’re a good dad, Chris. I can tell.”

  He grabbed her finger before she could pull it away, holding on to it as he leaned down, hesitating for a brief moment for her to nod her permission. And then he brushed his lips lightly over hers—once, twice, until finally she lost count.

  When he finally pulled away, her cheeks were warm and her lips swollen.

  Chris grinned. “Are we in agreement that that was enjoyable?”

  She pressed her lips together and nodded. “I think it’s safe to say all parties are in agreement on said enjoyment.”

  “Good,” he said, then sneaked in one more kiss. “I hope to enjoy the pleasure of your company again soon, Alissa.”

  Ever the gentleman, he waited until she was safely in her car before he departed for his own.

  She sat there for several long seconds letting it all sink in.

  Dinner was good, and conversation never lulled. That was the beauty of getting to know someone new—so much to talk about. Alissa had arrived early to order a tonic and lime so it looked like she was nursing a gin and tonic all night, and her morning sickness was at least behaving these days and keeping its torture to mornings only. And that kiss. That kiss. She was worried it couldn’t possibly compare to you know who’s kisses, but she’d felt a flutter in her belly.

  Could it be that easy to finally get over the confusion of the past twenty years, just like that, with one kiss?

  There it was again, like a quiet little butterfly in her tummy, a sensation that would have solidified her attraction to Chris if he’d been kissing her again.

  But she was alone. In the car. Running down a mental checklist that was far from sexy or exciting, or—

  “Oh!” she said out loud when she felt it again. “Oh my God. Not butterflies.”

  It was the baby.

  With a shaking hand, she pulled up her sister’s number on her phone and hit the green icon on her screen.

  Becca answered on one ring.

  “Oh my God. How was the date?” she whisper-shouted. “Jeff’s already asleep so I have to talk quietly. Hang on while I lock myself in the bathroom.” A few seconds later Alissa heard the click of a door. Then her sister groaned. “You know, I was actually going to say yes to sex tonight, but he just passed out with a John Grisham book on his chest. I swear there is no inch of the man that isn’t lawyer.”

  “Not even the handful of inches you wanted to enjoy between your legs?” Alissa teased. “Wait. Don’t answer that. I do not want to know if he’s nicknamed his dick something like The Judge.”

  “Enforcer of the Law,” Becca said with a snort. “Just The Enforcer for short.”

  “Ew!” Alissa cried. “I said I didn’t want to know!” But both woman were giggling.

  “Okay,” Becca said. “Getting back on track. How was the date? How was Chris? Are you going to see him again? Did you meet his enforcer of the law?”

  “Oh my God, Bex. I just met the guy. And the date was good. Really good. Until…”

  Alissa heard her sister suck in a sharp breath. “Liss—he didn’t do anything—I mean, if he hurt you in any way…”

  “No!” Alissa exclaimed. “Sorry. No. He was a perfect gentleman. And I was so close to just letting go and basking in the glory of an equally perfect evening without thinking about—” She cleared her throat. “Without thinking about anyone or anything that’s been keeping me from moving forward. But, Bex, is it too early for me to feel it move? The baby, I mean?”

  There was a long pause, which meant Becca had gone into doctor mode, and she was doing the mental calculations even though Alissa had just been in for her twelve-week ultrasound. She knew, though, that Dr. Weiland was a perfectionist, never speaking on a whim, especially when it came to her own sister’s medical status.

  “Well,” Becca finally said. “You are in your thirteenth week, and this is technically your second baby—despite the twenty-three years in between. For a first pregnancy, I’d say it was too early, but not for a second. I guess I just figured with the decades between the births that this would be more like a first go-round.” She laughed softly. “You are my first patient with such a long span between baby one and baby two.”

  Alissa rolled her eyes even though her sister couldn’t see. “Yeah, yeah. Geriatric pregnancy and all that. But it’s possible that it was the baby?”

  “Yeah,” Becca said. “It’s possible.”

  Alissa’s heart leapt. “I should tell Matt, right?” Though she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Letting her excitement get the best of her would ultimately lead to getting her hopes up, and it was too early for that.

  Becca blew out a breath. “That’s your decision, honey. He made a good first step the other day, but I understand your hesitation. Maybe wait until you’re sure it’s really happening. I hate to see you disappointed by any of this. Or by him if—”

  “If he doesn’t react how I want him to?” Alissa interrupted. “You know me too well.”

  “I really do,” she said. “So…Do you think you’ll see Chris again?”

  Alissa sighed. “He was really great. But I’m not going to be able to hide my—situation—much longer. I need to think about it. But it was a really nice night, Bex. Thanks for getting my mind off of the real world for a couple of hours. It felt good.”

  “Anytime, sis,” Becca said. “Oh! Jeff just called for me. He’s awake. Wish me luck waking The Enforcer up too.”


  Alissa squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “I don’t know what’s worse—that you never told me about The Enforcer until now or that I finally know and cannot unknow what, in hindsight, I wish I never knew. How am I going to look my brother-in-law in the eye next time I see him?”

  “Coming, babe!” Alissa heard her sister call to her husband over what must have been a hand muffling the phone. Then more clearly, “G’night, sis!”

  “’Night,” Alissa said, then ended the call.

  She didn’t bother with a playlist but simply blasted whatever was on the radio to try to empty her head of all things Enforcer. So when Taylor Swift’s latest release came on, she was happy as hell to belt out the song and clear her mind of all of the things she didn’t want to think about for the rest of the evening—which was easier said than done since only minutes later she was pulling into her driveway behind another car that should not have been there. An old-as-hell Honda Pilot to be exact. And if she had any doubt in her mind whose Honda Pilot it was, that doubt was erased when she spotted Matthew Bloom sitting on her small front porch, a six-pack of beer at his side with only two unopened bottles still in it. The other visibly empty bottles lay on their sides at his feet.

  Ah. So this was a tipsy Matthew.

  The last time she’d seen him like this, she’d been tipsy herself, and the result had been a geriatric pregnancy. At least there was no danger of that happening again.

  She hopped out of her car and rounded the front bumper until she was facing him. She crossed her arms.

  His eyes widened. “Wow. You look—beautiful.”

  She swallowed back a smile, not sure what to make of the sight before her.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Bloom?”

  He let out a bitter laugh. “Just came to see how your date went, Freckles.” Then he opened another bottle and held it up, miming the act of clinking a bottle she clearly was not holding herself. “Cheers.”

  Alissa felt her blood start to percolate, but she tamped it down before it reached boiling status. “You can’t do this, Matt. Okay?”

  She toed one of the empty bottles at his feet.

  “Do what?” he asked. “Hear from my daughter that the woman who’s carrying my baby—our second child—is so sure I’m going to flake out again that she’s already auditioning new men for the role?”

  He took a long swig from his bottle, draining almost half of it in one breath.

  “Wait,” she said. “Gabi told you? How did she—” But Alissa stopped herself. He was mad? He was the one who told her to put him through the wringer and then showed up to their first ultrasound like he was ready to draw up court documents. “But you said…I mean, at the doctor’s appointment you brought up…” But she was scared to say it out loud, to make him admit that him being back maybe wasn’t for her like she wanted it to be. “It was Becca’s idea!” she finally said, trying for a redirect.

  “I see,” he said coolly. “I guess I shouldn’t expect your sister to be any more on my side than she’s been in the past. That’s on me. But a blind date, Liss? Does he know that you’re—I mean, did you tell him about…?” Matthew mimed rubbing his hand over his decidedly not swollen belly.

  Her eyes burned. An angry heat flushed her cheeks. “Of course I didn’t tell him. It was just a date, Matt. Just me exercising my options.”

  “Exercising your options?” he asked. “Well—well maybe I should start exercising too! Maybe I should tell Sadie to set me up with an option or two.”

  Alissa was going to be sick. The thought of Matthew with someone else? Now?

  Ugh. She was a hypocrite. But those things he said—custody and living arrangements—they’d cut her deep. Deeper than she’d expected.

  She stormed past him and up the couple of steps to her front door, fumbling in her purse for her keys.

  “That’s it?” he asked. “You’re just going to leave me out here, my car blocked in and everything? Don’t you even want to see the gift I brought you?”

  She didn’t turn to face him but kept her eyes on the key in her hand, noting the slight tremble as she fit it into the door. “You can’t drive right now, anyway,” she said coolly.

  She heard him laugh. “Ah. So you’ll leave me to sleep it off in my car. Thanks for the clarification.”

  “You said custody, Matt. And living arrangements.” Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes. Fine. If he wanted to know how she really felt about him—how scared she was at the possibility of loving and losing him again—then so be it.

  She spun on her heel, her cute, slip-on wedge of a heel that looked adorable under her maxi skirt, if she did say so herself. Sure, she was used to her Dansko clogs, but for tonight she’d decided to take one teeny-tiny step outside her comfort zone. Chris sure seemed to enjoy her ensemble, and Alissa enjoyed the idea of a fancy-ish shoe that didn’t have a heel the width of a toothpick. But what she didn’t anticipate was the slip-on shoe slipping off as she turned, her ankle rolling in the process.

  Pain shot through her as she crumpled to her knees.

  Matthew was at her side in a matter of seconds, beer bottles rolling onto the driveway as he scrambled to his feet and up the steps.

  “Shit. Alissa. Are you okay?” He wrapped an arm around her waist. “Can you stand?”

  She pressed her lips together and nodded even though she wasn’t sure she was telling the truth.

  “I’m just going to pull off the other death trap of a shoe first, okay?” he said, his voice calm and gentle.

  She blew out a breath and let him do as he said so that now neither death trap could attack. “Why is it that I’m either bleeding from a head wound or tripping over my feet whenever I see you?”

  “I didn’t mean it,” he said softly. “The things I said about custody and where the baby would live. I say stupid shit when I’m scared. I’m still just a dumb teenage kid playing the part of an adult. You know that, right?”

  She sniffled. “What are you scared of, Matt? What have you ever been scared of?” Because to her he’d always seemed fearless.

  “Losing you,” he said without hesitation. “I asked you not to push me away, but I’m guessing I’m the one who pushed you toward exercising your options.” He cleared his throat. “I’m not discounting the head wound upon my return or tonight devolving into somewhat of a disaster, but it hasn’t been all bad between us since I got back, has it? I mean, I remember a time or two between the head wound and now when no unintentional self-inflicted harm was done? In fact, I recall quite a bit of pleasure being had by certain individuals.”

  Alissa rolled her eyes. “I might have just broken my ankle, and you’re flirting?”

  He laughed. “Hey. You’re the one who wanted to paint our recent encounters as ones where you come out worse for the wear. I just wanted to remedy that. And broken? Really? Does it hurt that bad? Maybe we need to go to the ER…Though, not sure who’s going to be able to drive us there.”

  She gritted her teeth. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Not broken.” She hoped. “I just need some help getting up.”

  “Okay,” he said. “On three. One. Two. Three.”

  He raised her up slowly, all her weight on her uninjured, shoeless left foot—and on Matthew too.

  They looked down at the ankle that had already swelled to twice its size, maybe more.

  “Shit,” Matthew hissed.

  Alissa winced.

  Not broken. Not broken. Not broken.

  She lowered her right foot to the ground and then decided to rip off the metaphorical Band-Aid by letting go of Matthew and putting all her weight on her swollen foot.

  She yelped as white-hot pain ripped through her, her knees buckling, but before she could hit the ground, Matt had scooped her into his arms and was already heading toward the sidewalk.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, swiping away a tear. She hadn’t cried from physical pain since giving birth to Gabi. But that was different. Everyone cries in labor, right? Before t
hat, she couldn’t remember. Alissa had never broken a bone or needed stitches or even experienced a bad sprain as far as she knew.

  “Taking you to the hospital,” he said. “It’s only a couple of miles away.”

  They were already headed at a surprisingly brisk pace toward the end of the block.

  “Call an Uber, then. Or Becca.” Then she remembered her sister and brother-in-law might be otherwise engaged. “Okay, wait. Not Becca. And not my parents because I don’t want to deal with that right now. And not your parents because—because just no.”

  Her arms were wrapped around his neck now as he continued out of the residential area and toward the heart of town, on the opposite side of which sat Highland Park Hospital.

  “By the time a ride got here, we could have been there already. This is my fault, Alissa. I’m sorry. You were right. I had no business coming over like I did tonight.”

  She sucked in a breath as he stumbled over a dip in the sidewalk, one foot knocking against the other.

  “It really hurts, Matt. Shit. What did I do?”

  He paused for a second to look at her, and she swore the pain in his dark eyes mirrored her own. “Let me fix this,” he said softly. “Can you trust me to do that, Liss?”

  She didn’t know if he meant her likely broken ankle or if this encompassed something bigger. But she nodded anyway.

  “I trust you,” she said, then smiled at him, a rush of warmth spreading through her when he smiled back. But his eyes dipped below her chin for a moment and then back up.

  “Would I be an almost bigger asshole than you already think I am if I remarked on the size of your breasts?”

  Alissa burst out laughing. “God, no. They’re huge, right? I can still fit into all my pants, but I’ve already had to buy new bras!”

  And just like that they were laughing together, the pain in her ankle subsiding or at least momentarily forgotten.