by PE Kavanagh
He flinched as if she had struck him.
“Sorry, I know that sounded bad.”
An audible swallow preceded a slow bob of his head. “I want you to be able to tell me the truth. Please go on.”
She wished she had a better plan for what she was going to say. A framework or bullet points, at least.
He wrapped his hands around hers. “Please, Mo. I need to hear this.”
Here goes. “When I got here, I had no idea about family, and now I’m making my own. I’d just begun to wrap my head around this thing called home and now I have one. I don’t like not having a plan or not knowing what’s next, but nothing that’s happened here was in my control. It’s wonderful and terrifying, and I have to admit I had no idea what I was getting into. Or what I’m doing. I feel dumb and powerless. And always afraid.”
Sadness clouded his features. “I know that’s hard for you. It always has been. Even when we were kids, and there was nothing you could do about your parents, you took charge of us. Con and I joke about it all the time.” The dimple appeared. “Actually, we kind of liked it. You were the only one parenting us, sometimes.”
Parenting. That idea brought a tremor to her breath. “I want to be good at this. I want to be a good mom.”
He dropped his head onto her lap, broad shoulders wrapping around her legs. She ran her fingers through his soft, sandy curls.
“I’m scared too, Mo.” His whisper was barely audible.
Her breath caught. “What scares you?”
He looked up at her, eyes glistening. “What if it’s not enough for you? This simple life in the quiet suburbs, with me and our child. It’s a far cry from jet-setting from one glamorous city to another. Or what if it’s too much for you? What if I hold you so tightly that I force you to run? What if you do what your mother did and…”
“That’s not going to happen.” She was relieved he didn’t finish his sentence. As horrifying as the thought might have been, it was not unfamiliar. Convincing them both that she was not her mother vaulted to the top of her list.
Chapter Twenty-One
Despite an intention to stay up until midnight, to celebrate crossing over into a new year, Ramona woke up with a start at 12:43. She’d missed it.
One of many things she’d missed over the past few months. Thanksgiving, Christmas, and now New Year’s. Not that anyone would confuse her for a traditionalist, but the holidays were predictable markers for the passing of time. She needed them to remind her to pause the fast-moving current of her life and take note.
She studied the slumbering man next to her. The beautiful, wonderful, loving man who’d brought her a new life to go with her new year. She had heard, on numerous occasions, the adage that how you spent the first day of the year would determine the rest of it. She’d never paid it any mind, not only because she didn’t believe in that degree of determinism and also because by the first of January, her whole year had been mapped out. Nearly to the minute.
For the first time in her adult life, she had no idea what the year would bring. It was as if she’d crossed into unknown territory and would be forced to navigate without a map. Her plans and lists would be of little use. She’d have to figure out how to enjoy the surprises as much as she did the schedules.
But there was quite a bit to sort out and maybe, just for one day, she could write it out.
She reached for the small notepad on the bedside table, careful not to disturb Lucas. After making a short list of hard conversations, she tucked herself into the spaces of his body and breathed him in, the familiar and the new mingling into sweet excitement. It was scary to be this trusting of and connected to another person, to remain open to him, their life, their future. The fear, the discomfort, the worry, abated with each breath, with each reminder of her commitment. What mattered, more than the fact that she was afraid, was that she was going to stay. That she wanted to stay. Physically and emotionally.
Lucas shuddered awake and pulled her into him.
“Happy New Year, Baloo,” she whispered.
He started, quick blinks trying to shift the sleep from his eyes. “Oh, no! Did we miss it?”
“It’s okay, darling. It’s going to be the new year all year.”
“I look forward to another year of your jokes, Mowgli.” He gave her that smile - bright and crooked and nearly her favorite thing in the whole world.
“Me too.” She kissed him as she might have had they been at a fancy party, drinking champagne, watching fireworks. “I want you to know how much I love you. And how happy you make me.”
All the sleepiness fell away from his face before he pressed in for another kiss.
* * *
“What should we do today?” he spoke into the top of her head as she ran her fingers across the ripples of his abdomen.
“Well, you’re going to work out with Connor in the morning.”
“Really? Don’t you want to stay in bed all morning?”
“I know your Crossfit is important to you, so I think you should go.” She looked up with a grin. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
He gave her a sly knowing smile. “I like the sound of that.”
“And there’s something else I’d like to do.”
He waggled his brows. “Anything. Tell me.”
“I want to have some people over. Our families, maybe Jackson and Camille if they’re free. Leni, too.” She looked for a change in his expression. “I know you were probably hoping for a day off, not having to be in the kitchen, but I hope it’s okay.”
His gaze melted into hers. “I can’t think of any better way to spend the day than cooking for the people we love, in our home. And it’s about time we had a proper party.”
Which was exactly what she had in mind.
* * *
Ramona kept herself busy tidying up while Lucas was out, waiting for a reasonable hour to begin her calls. Connor had agreed to come over after the guys were done with their workout, so she got to cross him off the short list. With only two more names remaining, it was easy to decide where to start.
Her mother picked up the call before the first full ring. Even though it wasn’t even eight am, Ramona knew her mother would be up. “Hi, Mom. Happy New-”
“Ramona! Oh my God, I’m so glad to hear from you. I’ve been so worried.”
“Mom.” She closed her eyes and tried to relax. “I’m fine. No need to worry.”
“Is it true, sweetheart? You’re pregnant?”
“Yes, it’s true. I’m sorry you had to find out the way you did, but I hadn’t planned on telling anyone for a few more weeks. It was-”
“Oh, Ramona, I can’t believe it. This news is-”
“Mom. I need you to stop interrupting me. I called because there are several things I want to tell you.” After a reasonable stretch of silence on the other end, she continued. “I know that this place holds a lot of bad memories for you. For me, too. But I’ve made a different choice and even if you don’t agree with it, it’s what I want. I’m creating a home here with the man I love and our child. I’m building a center that speaks to everything I’ve dreamed of, professionally. It’s a big change, I know. But I’m happy, Mom. Can you understand that?”
Several sighs came through the phone line. “All I want is for you to be happy, Cariña.”
“I know, Mom. I’m just going to do it differently than you.” She gathered herself. “I called to invite you over this afternoon. We’re having an impromptu celebration and I would love for you to be here.”
“Of course I will be there, Ramona. I love you, sweetheart.”
“Love you too, Mom. See you later.”
Ramona tapped the red icon to close the call and continued staring at the phone. The conversation had gone as well as expected. Ramona knew her mother’s experiences had indelibly etched themselves into her personality. She was scarred, but had salvaged a pretty amazing life out of it. Her mother might never agree with Ramona’s choices and that had to be okay. It was time
to stop avoiding these conflicts and holding her tongue, activities she had reserved only for her personal relationships. She took a deep breath. This whole adulting thing might just work out.
The next call required scrolling through pages of previous calls on her phone. As soon as Ramona saw the number, even though she’d never put a name in the contact, she knew it was the right one. After four rings, Ramona prepared for voicemail to click in. She stood, ready to deliver an extended message when Abigail’s voice came through the line.
“Hello.”
“Hi Abigail, it’s Ramona. Do you have a minute?”
Pausing just a tick longer than what would have been natural, she answered. “Sure.”
“Great. There are a couple of things I’d like you to know. First, I am not your enemy, and I am not interested in doing anything to thwart your career. It has nothing to do with me. I won’t get in your way or intrude into any of the relationships you think are necessary for you to achieve your goal. However…” Ramona paused to collect her thoughts, find the precise words. “Please know that I have zero tolerance for threats against my family, which includes all of my relatives, Lucas, and the Winstons. If you decide to continue your manipulations and attempts at blackmail, I will marshal the full force of any power I have access to and direct it to your utter and complete destruction.”
Ramona gave the other woman a moment to feel the weight of her statement.
“That’s quite a threat, Ramona. I didn’t picture you as the type.”
“You’re right. This is not my playing field, and I have no taste for the game. But it isn’t about that for me. It’s about the people I love and protecting them from harm.”
Abigail responded with a high-pitched grunt and Ramona could almost feel disdain coming through the line. “I don’t think you know what you’re up against. Getting pregnant to trap Lucas was an amateur move.”
Now, that was almost funny. “Ha! Abigail, you’re becoming a caricature of yourself. Lucas is free to choose whatever and whomever he wants. No one has given him more opportunity to flee than I have. But it’s clear, as enticing as your offers might have been, he’s here, with me, in our home. That’s pretty simple, don’t you think?”
Ramona waited for some other reaction. Maybe even another round of threats. There was nothing but silence. “As for my brother, no one believes your story. I’d worry about all you have to hide, instead of some nonsense about Connor.”
“You have no idea.”
Like a flipped switch, all that worry about Abigail turned into boredom with a splash of pity. “Happy New Year, Abigail. Good luck.”
* * *
That call was neither better nor worse than what Ramona imagined. And also both of those things at the same time. Maybe Abigail would come tearing through her life again. Maybe, between Lucas and Connor, there might always be more drama than she’d gotten used to. In the scheme of things, it didn’t matter. When you chose a place, or when it chose you, you took the good and the bad. The beautiful and the crazy.
Ramona put her phone down and walked outside, a cold wind whipping her hair across her face. There she stood, in a beam of sunlight, getting batted around by currents of air. She imagined her yoga teacher creating a whole lesson about that moment. The unpredictability of the wind, the warmth of the sun, the intention of her holding her ground. In other words, everything she needed to know.
Maybe she’d roll out her yoga mat for a few minutes before Lucas returned. But not yet. The sun on her face felt like heaven.
* * *
Ramona had already finished showering and dressing when Lucas and Connor blew into the house, arms loaded with grocery bags. She should have known. Lucas was going to create a feast. The guys stopped their boisterous conversation when Ramona walked into the kitchen.
“Looks like you bought out the supermarket, honey.”
Lucas dropped his bags and wrapped his arms around her. “You know how I don’t like to leave people hungry.”
Her face lit up. “Yes, you know exactly how to satisfy.”
“Okay, you two.” Connor covered his ears. “It’s a bit early for all that, don’t you think?”
“Hey, Con.”
He bowed his head. “Mo.”
“I’ll take care of this stuff,” Lucas said. “Why don’t the two of you go chat in the living room? I’ll bring coffee.”
“How was your New Year’s Eve?” Ramona asked her brother.
“Not my best.” He tugged at the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “I’m really sorry about what happened at the restaurant. I had no idea Stanley was going to… well… what he did was totally inappropriate. I wish I could take it back.”
Her brother’s expression was believably remorseful. “It wasn’t great, Con. Not really how I pictured my pregnancy announcement would go.” She smoothed back the hair falling in her eyes. “But it’s done. I need to move on.”
“What can I do?”
“Actually, there is something. I need an invitation to the big event you’ve been talking about. The rally next week at the Mellon Auditorium.”
He fiddled with his glasses. “Mo, I know you hate what I’m doing. I don’t like that you feel that way, but I understand. So, I don’t think it’s necessary for you to force yourself to go to my events. You don’t need to torture yourself. Or me.”
“I’m your little sister. I was born to torture you. Thought you would have figured that out by now. And anyway, who’s going to woo all the big donors? You think Sleek Stanley is up to it?” The look on her face communicated definitely not.
His forehead creased. “You really want to go?”
“Yes, you dummy. You’re right, I don’t love what you’re doing. But you’re my big brother and I love you. That’s not going to change. Me and my illegitimate baby are going to your rally. Whether you like it or not.”
His whole face puckered. “Yuck. I’m so sorry. You know I don’t believe any of that stuff Stanley said, right?”
“You better not.”
“It’s part of what I’m trying to do. Get out from all this hypocrisy in politics. Everybody twisted up about who’s having sex with whom when all these kids in Virginia are literally starving. We can do better.”
For just a moment, she saw her dorky brother on a grand stage delivering a rousing speech to a rapt audience. She knew he had a good heart, that he cared about the same issues she did. Maybe he could be the exception, the one who wouldn’t get destroyed by the toxicity of it. “I believe you.”
His long arms were around her before she could formulate her next thought. “I can’t stand fighting with you, Mo. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you. I know it’s been rough.”
She squeezed him back. “Love you, Con.”
“Hey!” Lucas’ voice startled them both. “Now that’s more like it.”
They each took a large mug from his hands.
“Thanks for the coffee, man. That ridiculously fancy machine actually makes a great cup.”
Ramona shook her head. “Please don’t encourage him. He’s already having a special accessory custom made in Italy. It has gone completely out of hand.”
“Sis, there are no limits when coffee is concerned.”
A high five sealed the agreement between the men. Those two were going to keep her in chuckles and eye-rolls all year long.
“So, Con, can you stick around? I want to move some things around in the dining room. We need to fit a lot of people in there.”
“Happy to help.”
Ramona put her hand on her hip. “What am I, chopped liver? I can move furniture, too.”
The men answered in unison. “No!”
“Mo,” Connor continued, “it’s bad enough that Lucas knocked you up. At least he can spare you from manual labor.”
Ramona was the first to burst out laughing, followed closely by the two men in rounds of hysterics that lasted for minutes.
* * *
Decorating the dining room, setting the table
, putting personal touches on the already beautiful house, kept Ramona smiling the whole afternoon. She’d never lived somewhere that she was interested in making her own but this was fun. Actual fun. She popped into the kitchen as often as she could while Lucas rocked out on his five-course gourmet extravaganza. There were dance breaks, kissing breaks, and more than occasional butt slaps.
By early-afternoon, Connor headed home, leaving the couple to survey all their hard work. Lucas kissed the back of her neck while she adjusted the napkins on the table.
“Everything looks beautiful, baby. The house, the dinner table, you even did that cool thing with the flowers by the front door. Will you get mad if I compliment your domestic skills?”
She chuckled. “Why don’t we lay down for a minute and I’ll show you?”
“Absolutely,” he growled in just the way that brought a tingle to all her important places.
* * *
She lay on the bed, catching her breath and wondering if the reward for months of debilitating nausea was the ability to orgasm at the snap of a finger. The whole pregnancy thing had taken a delightful turn. She rolled into Lucas’ side. Taking a courageous breath, she stroked along his collarbone. “Hey, did you really tell Grayson or Connor that you were willing to marry me?”
His breath stopped and his body stiffened. She waited. He tilted her chin up and pressed his lips to hers.
“Yes. One of the oddest conversations I’ve ever had with a stranger. Connor had no right to tell Grayson about the baby, but I told them I wanted to marry you as soon as you were ready. I certainly wasn’t going to do it for him and his campaign. And I wasn’t going to even bring it up to you.” He ran his thumb over her cheek. “Does it surprise you that I’d want something as mundane as getting married?”
