For The Love of Easton : A Single Parent Romance and Sequel to For The Love of English

by A. M. Hargrove

  Guilt coated me like an unwanted cocoon. My parents had spent so much money on my baby already, and she hadn’t even arrived yet. It would take me a lifetime to be able to repay them.

  “Now what?” Dad asked, tipping my chin up.

  “It’s just that you two are doing everything for me. I wish I could help.”

  “Don’t worry. You will be. I remember when you arrived on the doorstep in that awful box and Geepa laughed because you needed a diaper change. He left me standing there, not knowing what to do. It didn’t take long for me to get the hang of it. That is after I got pooped on a few times.”

  “Ew, Daddy, that’s gross.”

  “You think so now, but just wait.” He walked away, chuckling. I had no idea why he thought that was so funny.

  Mom came over and hugged me. “Listen, now isn’t the time for you to worry about what we bought. You just take care of yourself and the baby. By the way, are you ever going to share the name?”

  I was still up in the air over it and I told her so. “It’s so hard.”

  “I know. Remember when you wanted me to name Anna Monroe Baby Yoda?”

  “Ugh, don’t remind me. I was so in love with that.”

  “I’m curious over what nickname you’ll give her. You always were one to do that.”

  “Yeah, about that, no nicknames for this child.” I patted my protruding belly. “Do you think I’ll be fat afterward?”

  “Yep, as fat as a pencil. You can’t even tell you’re pregnant until you turn to the side. You’ll be fine.”

  “I hope I’m like you.” Mom looked great. After each baby she’d dropped right back down to where she’d been before. The funny thing was, we sort of looked alike, even though she wasn’t my birth mom. We had long blonde curly hair, and while my eyes were blue-green like Dad’s, hers were blue. I was taller like Dad, but our facial features resembled each other’s. When people told me I looked exactly like her, I never bothered to tell them she wasn’t my bio mom.

  The check-in at the hospital went smoothly and I settled into my room. The doctor came in and examined me. “Looks like we’re going to have a baby.”

  There was no ‘we’ in this, unless she was going to conk me out and pull the thing out of me. I grimaced through another contraction. “When can I have the epidural?”

  “Soon.” She patted my leg and left.

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  Mom held my hand. “She probably had to call the anesthesiologist.”

  “Oh.”

  Dad grabbed my other hand and said, “If it gets too painful, just squeeze.”

  A nurse came in and started an IV. My contractions were coming fast. She attached a fetal monitor to me and all I wanted was that stupid epidural.

  “Mom, is it always this bad?”

  “Sorry, but yeah.”

  “Ugh, and you had more than one? Why do women ever go through this more than once?”

  “You’ll figure it out later.” Mom had a serious expression, but not Dad. He went all-out with the laugh.

  “Dad, you don’t get to laugh. You’re not the one who has to push out a gigantic live watermelon out of your vagina. Come to think of it, how is that even possible?”

  “The human body is amazing,” Dad said.

  I gave him the stink-eye. “Easy for you to say.”

  The day wore on… and on… and on. Finally, some dude came in and put me out of my misery.

  “What the fuck took you so long?”

  “English!” Mom admonished me.

  “I get that all the time,” the anesthesiologist said. “Don’t blame me, I only come in when your obstetrician calls.”

  A few minutes later, I was in much better shape. “Thank you and sorry for the trash mouth.”

  “Not a problem,” he said as he walked out.

  The doc came back in and said, “Now that your epidural is in, things may slow down a bit.”

  “I don’t care. I’ll stay here for a week as long as that pain is gone.”

  “We can’t have that. It’s not good for the baby, so if things don’t progress in a couple of hours, we’ll give you something to speed things up.”

  Eighteen hours later, I pushed my baby girl out. I don’t know that I could’ve done it without my mom. She was the best coach I could’ve asked for. Dad came in and beamed at the nearly seven-pound bundle I held on my chest.

  “Will you tell us her name now?” he asked.

  Rubbing her tiny head, I glanced up and smiled at him. “It’s Easton Sheridan Bridges.” I’d used Mom’s name as her middle name.

  Mom cried.

  Chapter Two

  English—Six Years Later

  “Hey, English, I just uploaded some photos for you to edit. These are from the shoot I did in Alaska and they’re for American Geographic,” Dad said. He’d hired me after I’d gotten my graphic arts degree. It had taken me an extra year, due to the baby. She’d been a full-time job back then.

  “Got them,” I said, scrolling through the downloaded files. “Ooh, these are fantastic. How much editing do you want done?”

  “Have at it and show me the befores and afters.”

  Dad was a freelance photographer who was in high demand. He did jobs for magazines everywhere with his favorite shoots being of nature, animals, and gorgeous scenery. He had a knack for grabbing the perfect shots of anything his camera lens was aimed at. Ever since I was young, I’d loved working on the computer with him as he edited, but had soon become better than he was. That was when I’d known I wanted to be a graphic artist. Working for him was great because it also gave me time to do freelance work whenever I wanted. He paid me well too.

  The photos made my job easy. They were pictures of the aurora borealis. I brightened some of them and changed the backgrounds on some of the others. Then I sent them to my dad.

  A few minutes later he was standing in my office. “These are perfect. They almost look like they were taken from space.”

  “How would you know? You’ve never been in space.”

  “You know what I mean. I love them.”

  “You don’t think I tweaked them too much, do you?”

  “Not at all. When you’re looking at the northern lights, the colors are phenomenal. They’re perfect.”

  “Hey, I never asked you. Did Mom freeze out there?” They’d gone to Alaska and Yellowknife, Canada, where they’d camped out to get the best pictures. Then they’d moved on to Iceland and Norway. Lucky for Mom, that part of the trip had been spent in luxury hotels.

  “Not really. The tents were large and heated. She actually enjoyed it.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  Dad chuckled. “So was I. We want to take the rest of the family back out there for another trip. Want to go?”

  “I’d love to and I’m sure Easton would too. As long as the tents are comfy.” I was a lot like my mom in that regard.

  “How’s the little one doing in school?”

  “Pretty good. I’m worried she’s bored.”

  “I was the same with you, but Sheridan convinced me you were fine, even though you were smart.”

  “I need to get Mom’s advice on a few things.”

  Dad glanced away from the computer. “Like what?”

  “There’s this kid in Easton’s class and I think he’s a bully.”

  “Already, huh?”

  “Yeah. Kind of sad, isn’t it?”

  “You were bullied and punched the kid, if I remember correctly.”

  “I did?”

  “You were a tough little thing.”

  “How did you make me that way? Easton is so sensitive.”

  “I told you never to be a bully, but not to be bullied either. And if you see something that’s wrong, to tell the teacher.”

  “Great advice. I’ll tell Easton the same.”

  “You want me to talk to her?”

  “Would you mind, Dad? It might be a good thing coming from a man.”

  “I’d
be happy to. I can stop by after work.”

  I snapped my fingers. “That reminds me. I need to get a move on here. She gets out of school soon and if I don’t get out of here, I’ll be late.”

  “Go. I’ll see you later.”

  I grabbed my purse and was out the door. My first stop was to pick up Easton. The wait in line wasn’t bad before they walked her out to the car. She climbed into the back seat and one of the teachers’ assistants buckled her into the booster seat.

  “Thanks. We’ll see you in the morning,” I said. Then to Easton, I asked, “How’s Mommy’s favorite girl?”

  “Duh, I’m your only girl.” She grinned and I looked at her in the rearview mirror. Oh, my heart. She was so precious. She’d lost one of her front teeth and looked positively adorable.

  “True, but you’re my very favorite in the whole wide world.”

  “I know, because you love me this much.” Her arms spread wide as she said the words.

  “That’s right. I love you that much and more. So how was school, peanut?”

  Her head dipped as she said, “Okay.”

  “Why was it just okay?”

  She shrugged. I was driving so I couldn’t pay that much attention to her. I asked, “Was it Jeremy again?”

  “He told me if I said anything to Ms. Leonard, everyone would hate me.”

  Dammit. Where did these kids come up with this? He was only six. “Is that a fact? We’ll see about that,” I said under my breath. To her I added, “You know what? Mimi used to be a teacher. She was my first-grade teacher. And once when a boy was mean to me, she told me I was to tell her everything. And you guess what happened? The boy was punished. Easton, he’s trying to scare you and he’s not obeying the rules. Do you want me to come to school and talk to Ms. Leonard?”

  Her tiny shoulders rose up. It broke my heart to see her so sad and I was enraged that some little punk would do this to my sweet girl. This was going to end tomorrow.

  I parked the car and we walked hand-in-hand into the store. We began at the produce section and made our way around the store. When we arrived at the frozen foods, I decided some ice cream was in order for my little one, so I checked out the different kinds and made a selection of one I knew she’d love. As I turned to drop the carton into the cart, I glanced up. My gaze landed on the one person I never wanted to lay eyes on again. Then my heart jackhammered and crashed to the floor.

  “English. What a nice surprise.”

  He’d changed from the last time I’d seen him. “Stuart. What are you doing here?”

  With a glint in his eye, he said, “I live here now. I moved home to take over the family business. Since Dad’s working for the governor now, someone had to take the reins.”

  His dad was working for the governor? How had that happened? His dad was the biggest ass. Maybe that was how. Maybe Stuart had turned into an ass-kisser now too.

  “Well, good for you. I have to get going.” I put my hands on the cart to get out of there.

  “Wait. Who is this?” He was staring intently at Easton. Fuck me.

  “None of your business.”

  Ignoring my comment, he dropped down and held out a hand. “Hi, my name is Stuart. What’s yours?”

  “I’m Easton Sheridan Bridges.” She shook his hand like an adult. She was a dead ringer for me—long curly blonde hair, with a nose and mouth exactly like mine. Only there was one exception. She had her father’s eyes. And as he stared at her, he knew without a doubt that she was his.

  “You’re very pretty, Easton Sheridan… Bridges.” He stared holes through me as he said her last name.

  “Thank you,” Easton said. “So are you.”

  He rose to his feet as he laughed. Stuart was handsome again. He’d cleaned himself up. I’d give him that. He looked much better from this angle than from the floor as he’d beaten me silly. But he was still a girlfriend-abuser and that was a hard no for me. After the way he’d treated me, he was dead to me. “English, can we—?”

  “No, I have to go.” I grabbed Easton’s hand and pushed the cart toward the checkout.

  “He was very nice, Mommy,” Easton said.

  “Uh-huh.”

  Like glue, Stuart followed us out to the car and asked for my number. After I buckled Easton in, I told him, “Why? We have nothing to say to each other.”

  “I disagree. She’s my daughter and don’t deny it. At least give me the chance to get to know her… no strings attached. She doesn’t have to know a thing. I promise.” As I wavered, he pressed his point further. “Please give me the chance to know my daughter. I’m begging, English.”

  That was the deciding factor. I moved further away from the car. “Stuart, may I remind you of the night I told you I was pregnant and you beat me up? What in the world makes you think I would allow that?”

  He spread his arms out. “I’ve changed, English. I’ve grown up. I admit, I was selfish and stupid back then. I’m not that man anymore. I’m not asking for anything other than a chance to get to know her. That’s it.”

  Shaking my head, I said, “I don’t know. I have to think about it.”

  “I understand.” He reached inside his suit coat and handed me a card. “Call me when you’ve reached a decision.”

  The entire ride home, Easton questioned me about him. Who was he? How did I know him? Why didn’t I like him? Kids were so astute. How could she tell I didn’t care for him? But he acted differently and he sure looked good. Stuart had always been attractive, until he got a hold of alcohol. But today, he was downright hot. Wearing a suit made him look even hotter. He had dark hair and a day or two’s worth of scruff, but his hazel eyes, exactly like Easton’s, were what I’d loved so much about him.

  I was still putting the groceries away when Dad arrived.

  Easton ran up to him, yelling at the top of her lungs, “Boppy! Boppy!” He picked her up and swung her high in the air to a waterfall of giggles. “Where’s Mimi?”

  “She’s busy at home. How was school today?”

  “Good. Mommy and me saw a nice man named Stuart at the store.”

  Dad frowned and turned toward me. “Is this true?”

  “Yup,” was all I said as I finished putting everything away.

  “That’s all you’re going to tell me?”

  “Yup.” I glanced over to my daughter so he’d get the hint. He did.

  “Easton, tell me about school.”

  I was glad he’d changed the subject. She walked to the den and sat down. He followed and pulled her onto his lap. “Talk to me, peanut.”

  With her head hanging, she said, “A boy is always mean to me.”

  “What does he do?”

  “He pulls my hair and pushes me so I fall down.”

  “Hmm. Have you told your teacher?”

  I watched from my spot in the kitchen.

  “No. He said if I did everybody would hate me cuz I’d be a tattletale.”

  Dad lifted her chin using his index. She looked at him now. “I’m going to tell you a story, okay? Once upon a time, there was a little girl. She was being hurt by a mean boy in her school, but her daddy told her never ever to be a bully. And not to let herself be bullied either. Do you understand what a bully is?”

  “No.”

  “A bully is someone who pushes others around, by words or actions. They aren’t nice people.”

  “Is Jeremy a bully?”

  “Yes, peanut, he is. And if someone doesn’t stand up to him, he’ll always be a bully.”

  “What happened to the little girl?”

  Dad grinned. “One day she went to school and when the mean boy went to push her, she turned around and pushed him back instead. Then she went and told the teacher what was happening. The mean boy was moved to a different class.”

  “He was?”

  “Yes, he was. And no one allowed him to bully them anymore because the word had spread.”

  “The word?” She stared intently at him with her brows scrunched.

&nbs
p; “Yes, the word was that a little girl had pushed him down. She stood up for herself. Everyone realized he wasn’t so scary after all and after that, he stopped being a bully.”

  Easton frowned. “But isn’t it bad that she pushed him?”

  “Yes, it was, but she had to stand up for herself or he would’ve kept on doing it. She also had to tell the teacher so the teacher could do something.”

  “That was good then, right?” Her grin had me smiling.

  “It was, because it taught him a lesson that he shouldn’t bully anyone. Bullying is very bad and wrong. Do you understand?”

  “I think so.”

  “Peanut, your teacher needs to know about how mean Jeremy is. If she doesn’t, he’s going to be mean always, and when he gets older, it’ll be worse.”

  Easton nodded.

  “Do you want Mommy and me to go to school with you so you can tell your teacher about him?”

  “Will all the kids hate me?” Her eyes shone with fear.

  “No, sweetie, they’ll love you for it. Do you know why? They won’t have to be afraid of him anymore either.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.” Then he tickled her. “Have I ever lied to you?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Then you can count on me this time.”

  Thank God for Dad. He flipped on the TV to her favorite channel and came over to me. “I’ll go with you when you take her to school in the morning. Now, it’s your turn, young lady. What’s this about Stuart?”

  Chapter Three

  English

  Dad’s eyes gouged into mine. His stubbornness revealed itself as he refused to leave until I explained.

  “We ran into him at the grocery store. I was shocked to see him there.”

  “And?”

  What more was there to say? Oh, yeah, no use leaving out the worst part. “He wants to see Easton. To get to know her.”

  Dad flattened his palms on the counter. “Absolutely not. After what he did to you?”

  “I reminded him of that.”

  “English, please tell me you’re not considering it.”

  “I, uh—”

  “For God’s sake, listen to me. He beat you to the point where you had to go to the hospital. Are you willing to put yourself in that position again?”