“You’re pregnant? Oh, that’s wonderful, isn’t it, John?” My mother gushes excitedly.
“You’ve never learned, have you? Just living your life in circles, making the same stupid mistakes over and over.” My father’s voice is low and devoid of emotion.
“John, hush. This is good news. I’m sorry, Colt. He isn’t normally like this. We should’ve gone out for lunch like you guys suggested. His blood sugar is probably getting low,” my mother starts pedaling her tired excuses for my father.
“Listen, I know this is a lot to absorb, but I love your daughter.” Colt puts his arm around me. “We’re really just extending a courtesy by telling you. We didn’t come here for a blessing.”
“I would hope not! You’re certainly not getting it from me.” My father clenches his fists and crinkles the sheets of his sermon.
“So much for a father’s love, huh, Dad? You’re such a hypocrite,” I spit my words at him, trying hard to keep my voice to a dull roar so I don’t wake Madison. “I can’t believe you stand up here every week and spout off about forgiveness and understanding, when you don’t live a word of it.”
“You should go now,” he answers through a clenched jaw, staring at his shoes.
“I expected as much. You kicked me out of your house the last time I got pregnant. Now you’re gonna kick me outta God’s house? I wish your congregation could see who you really are.”
I look over at Colt and his mouth is hanging open with surprise. This is the first time he’s heard about my first pregnancy. It isn’t the way I wanted to bring it up, but then again he’s the one who insisted we come here today, so I guess the cards will fall where they will.
“Only the Lord can make that decision, and I can only hope and pray you find your path before your time for judgment comes, Isabella. As much as you seem to think you can do whatever you like with no consequences, you’d better believe that when your time comes, you will be judged.” He looks me straight in the eyes, and I can’t find a glimmer of the man who once held my bike seat. The father who used to take pride in my smallest accomplishments can now only see my failures.
“That’s right, Dad, I’m going to be judged. But I’m not worried. You know why? ’Cause that book you love to quote has a lot of passages about how He will forgive all sinners, even hypocrites like you.” My voice trembles and I turn away before the tears spill over from my eyes.
I knew this was a mistake. I knew it!
Colt holds me close, with one arm around me and one arm around Madison, and we walk out of the church.
This is my family now. This is the only family I need.
31
Colt
“Colt, I don’t want two mommies in my family.” Madison crosses her arms. “I want one mama and one dada!”
I look at the cashier, a girl in her early twenties with her long, bright blue hair half shaved and a large nose ring. She cocks her eyebrow at me accusingly. I hand her my money for the ice cream currently melting down my fingers.
“Thanks.” I smile weakly. “Keep the change.” Holding on to Madison’s hand tightly, I walk over to the park bench where she climbs up beside me. Earlier today she told me she doesn’t want me to carry her anymore because she’s not a baby.
In the past month she’s really been pushing for her independence, insisting that she’s ‘a big girl’ and she can ‘do it herself’ for most things. It started after we went to the church service and she heard Isabella’s father talk about riding a bike. She quickly became obsessed with the idea of riding one herself and was devastated when we explained to her that only big girls can ride a two-wheeler. Since that day Madison has been trying to convince me she’s all grown up.
I cringe as I remember how the meeting with her parents went after the service and the way Isabella sobbed for nights afterward when she thought I was sleeping. I shouldn’t have pushed her so hard. Why did I insist on meeting people who’ve only brought misery to her life?
“Colt! Colt! It’s melting.” Madison’s cries snap me back into the present. Her birthday cake flavored ice cream, topped with sprinkles, is dissolving down over my hand. The bright colors are puddling together on my hand, making a design like one of Madison’s finger paintings. I yank the wad of napkins from my pocket that I had the foresight to swipe at the counter and clean the mess.
“Sorry about that. I wasn’t paying attention.” With the mess cleaned up Madison wastes no time trying to devour as much of the ice cream as she can. “Hey, slow down. You don’t want to give yourself a headache.” I try to save her from brain freeze, but I know it’s only a matter of time with how quickly she is devouring the treat.
She stops for a moment and gets a very serious look on her face. “I okay, Colt.” She shakes her head vigorously. “My head no ache.”
“Okay, sweetheart—I mean Madison.”
She isn’t fond of any pet names or nicknames, insisting I only ever call her Madison.
“What were you talking to me about when we were standing in the line? About having two mommies? Can you tell me what you meant?”
Tilting her head to the side, clouds roll over her little brown eyes. “I don’t want two mommies,” she declares. “I want one mama and one dada.”
“You don’t have two mommies, Madison.”
“Is Isabella my mama? I don’t want Isabella! I want my old mommy back,” she emphasizes each word by shaking the ice cream in her hand, dripping it all down her arm and around the bench.
“Okay, be careful with that, please! Listen, Isabella isn’t your mommy. You only have one mother. But Isabella is the woman I love very much and so, she’s a part of your family. Not your mommy, though, okay?”
She nods solemnly and her little brown curls bounce around her ears. “Colt? Where’s my mama? Did she leave ’cause I was bad?” Her lip quivers at the thought.
“No, Madison. You aren’t bad at all and your mommy didn’t leave. She just needed to go to the doctor to get some help, just like when you get a cold. Everyone needs help sometimes and you’ll see, once she gets better you’ll get to see her again.”
“Just like Doc McStuffins?” She smiles, recalling her favorite children’s show. “Mommy is so much better now!” She sings the words to the show adorably off-key.
“Sort of, yeah. Okay, so are you all done with that cone now?”
“All done!”
I take the soggy remnants of her ice cream from her sticky hand and toss it in the garbage can next to us.
“Good, because I have a big-girl job for you. Do you want to help me go shopping?”
Her eyes light up and she squeals in a pitch that should only be reserved for dog whistles.
“Yeah, I help you!” She slides off the bench and jumps up and down with excitement. It’s amazing how much joy children can find in everyday moments. I can’t remember the last time I was that excited about anything, although I have to admit, this mission is probably the closest I’ve come in a while.
“Great, let’s go then. You ready? It’s a super special place that you can’t touch anything, okay? I need to carry you if you want to go.”
She thinks about it for a moment, but her curiosity wins out over her need to be a big girl this time. “Okay, up, up, up!” She reaches up for my neck, and I walk her halfway down the block to Tiffany & Company. Madison’s eye is immediately drawn to the counters filled with sparkling diamond rings and other jewels. “Ohhh, pretty princess sparkles!”
“Good afternoon, sir. Is there anything I can help you with?” A poised, dark-haired man immediately welcomes me to the jewelry store.
“Yes, please. My little helper here”—I nod to Madison, who is still transfixed by the assortment of jewelry—“and I are looking for a diamond ring.”
“Absolutely, sir. Did you have a specific ring in mind?”
“I do. I’d like to see your princess cut engagement rings, please.”
32
Isabella
“Hey, whatcha doing?”
Colt leans over the back of the couch where I’m sitting with my feet up, skimming a massive What to Expect When You’re Expecting book. With Madison playing quietly with her little pony toys on the other side of the room, I thought I’d take advantage of the quiet time and relax a little.
“I want to make sure there isn’t any food I should avoid at the party. I know Julia probably covered it with her caterers, but you can never be too safe.” I slide my hand over my firming belly.
At almost five months pregnant, I’m just barely starting to show. I’m still not even wearing maternity clothes. It makes it hard not to be jealous of Julia, whose little belly is beginning to look like a perfect little basketball. Meanwhile, I look like I can’t lay off the donuts.
If she didn’t specifically put both of our names on the baby shower invitations, I guarantee you that no one would think we’re both due at the same time. Still, my belly might not have popped yet, but I can still feel my little bean rolling around in there, and knowing the baby is developing and healthy is really the only thing that matters.
“I’m sure you can eat whatever you want, can’t you?” He rubs my shoulders gently.
“No, that’s not true. See?” I point to the page. “It says right here I should avoid fish, deli meat, raw eggs, and soft cheeses.”
“Raw eggs? Why would you eat raw eggs even if you weren’t pregnant?”
“They mean like in traditional Caesar salad or meringue pie, not like you’d sit down with a bowl of raw eggs and eat them.” My stomach lurches at the thought. Even though my morning sickness ended after the first trimester, I’m still sensitive to feeling sick at minor things.
“Ahhh, gotcha.”
He walks around the couch and sits down next to me. Grabbing my foot, he rubs tiny circles into my big toe. I can’t believe how quickly we’ve settled in together. Colt and I fit like a glove. Living with him has made my life so much better. Even though Madison occasionally acts out and clearly favors Colt over me, we’re still a tight-knit little family.
“Have you decided if you’re gonna find out or not?” Colt nods at my slightly bloated belly. Next week is our twenty-week ultrasound and we can finally find out the sex of our child, if we wish. Colt said that if it were only up to him, he would find out. I think he wants to start buying cute little onesies.
“Yeah, the thing is, I think I want to keep it a surprise. It’s just, there are so few surprises left when you grow up. Besides, Julia and I talked about it, and we think it’d be fun to both find out on our due dates. She told me they didn’t find out at their appointment either.”
With only two weeks between our pregnancies, Julia gets to go through every milestone fourteen days ahead of me. It’s been like getting a little preview of every phase I’m about to go through before it happens. Of course, like most things in life, Julia’s version is usually better. During her first three months she never got sick one single time, where I had my head hovering over the toilet every morning.
Her hair and skin have never looked better, giving off that cliché pregnancy glow everyone always talks about, but I just keep fighting to keep hormonal acne off my face. Now with her little tummy poking out from her flowing dresses, she looks like one of the models for the maternity line of clothes. I guess I haven’t been getting a preview of what to expect as much as a preview of what perfect pregnancy looks like.
“I know you want to get a heads-up so you can paint the office and set it up for the nursery, but we can just go with yellow instead.”
Colt avoids my eyes, staring at his hands.
“What’s wrong? You don’t like yellow? We can do another color. I’m not attached to yellow.”
“No, Isabella, it’s not about the color. It’s just, well, with Lisa working through her program, I need to start thinking about the possibility of sharing custody of Madison. I, uh, I’ve been giving this a lot of thought and there might be a chance I’ll need to relocate to Florida for all that to work out.”
Florida? Move?
The words might as well be in a different language with how much sense they’re making in my head. I don’t know the first thing about the sunshine state, except it’s not my home. I’ve spent my entire life in Manhattan. I always pictured my children growing up here too. Colt watches my face intently, waiting for me to react.
“No move away! No move!” Madison screams, tossing her pony across the room angrily. “I no leave. I stay here with Colt!” she shrieks, and I realize it isn’t anger, but fear that’s making her melt down.
I watch from the couch, uncertain of what to say or do. Colt jumps up and sweeps her up in his arms.
“Hey, it’s okay. We’re just talking. I’m not saying anyone is moving. It’s just talking, Madison.”
“No move!” she screams again, tears smearing her cheeks. “I don’t go. No go!” She balls her hands up into little fists and they tremble with emotion.
My heart squeezes in my chest as I watch her struggle with the idea. I had no idea she was listening in on our conversation, let alone understanding it. I watch helplessly as Colt carries Madison down to her room and listen as he sings her songs and calms her down. Whenever she has tantrums or nightmares it reminds me how unprepared I am for motherhood.
I don’t know the first thing about bringing a child into this world, and these stupid books aren’t going to teach me. I toss the What to Expect book to the other end of the couch, sighing.
The last sounds of Madison’s crying peter out, and Colt comes back into the living room without her.
“She’s tired. I put her down for a nap. I guess I’m going to need to be more careful with what I say around her. I always forget she’s listening.” He rubs his hand and his eyebrows press together with concern. “Look, I didn’t mean to stress everyone out about Florida. I’m sorry.” He walks across the room and joins me on the couch.
“I’m not stressed about it, don’t worry.” I hope my tone is convincing, but I can see in his eyes that my acting skills need work.
“Well, I just brought it up so you would have time to think about it, that’s all. Maybe the judge will determine that permanent custody here is what’s best for her.” Now he’s the one who sounds like he’s reading a script. He puts his hands on my tiny belly and looks me in the eyes. “Regardless, we’ll get through whatever happens together. We’re a family, right? And that’s what families do.”
I wish I could believe him, but I just don’t know how long we’ll be able to hold our little family together once Lisa has complete freedom again.
“That’s what families do,” I echo his words, but I don’t feel reassured. I know Colt is doing everything he can to make everyone happy, but with Lisa hovering in the background I can’t help but feel like we’re working against a ticking time bomb. Except in our case, there’s no telling if or when it’s gonna explode.
33
Isabella
“Ohhh, do you know if it’s going to be a boy or a girl?”
“Oh my goodness, that cute little belly! You look like you swallowed a melon! I wish my pregnancy looked like that.”
“Julia, you’re absolutely stunning. Pregnancy agrees with you.”
As I predicted, a group of women are crowded around Julia, fussing over her. With all the hands rubbing at her stomach, you’d think they’re trying to make a genie come out or something. I stand off to the side and soak in the lovely decorations adorning the room. Julia has spared no expense for our double baby shower, with a custom-made banner hanging from the arched doorway. Congratulations, Isabella and Julia! it exclaims. She even put my name first. Classy. I look over at her sympathetically as she silently begs me to save her from the group with her eyes.
“Okay, ladies, hands off the merchandise,” I interrupt, pushing my way into their bubble. “Besides, why do you want to be touching that belly when you could put your hands on all this.” I wave my hands around my non-existent bump, and Julia laughs.
“Wow, Isabella, you�
�d never know you two are due around the same time. You’re so tiny!” Parker’s sister, Tina, smiles.
“You’re lucky,” Paula cuts in. “I bet you’re wearing your normal clothes, aren’t you? When I got pregnant I was as big as a house. My maternity clothes needed maternity clothes!”
The crowd eases away from Julia a little and a giggle erupts at Paula’s joke.
Julia leans into me. “Thank you,” she whispers. “I owe you.”
“Ladies, I thought I’d just come in here and say goodbye.” Parker walks in dressed in a polo shirt and light dress pants. “If you don’t mind, I’m gonna just borrow my wife for a second.” He smiles at Julia and her eyes are glued on him. Apparently the honeymoon phase is alive and well with these two, because everyone else in the room seems to evaporate from their line of sight when they see each other.
“Where are you trying to run off to?” one of Julia’s work acquaintances, whose name I can’t remember, yells out.
“I’m not running off, just going to spend an afternoon on the green working on my put,” he answers without taking his eyes off Julia. They both step out into the hall to say their comically long goodbye while the hens continue to cluck in the living room.
“Ohhh, that baby of theirs is gonna pop out and just start walking down the runway. With a mom and dad who look like that, there’s no way that kid won’t be a model,” Paula tells the crowd of women, who are all obviously watching Parker and Julia in the hall like they’re dinner theater for the group. It’s hard to argue with her, though. When the two of them stand next to each other they look like they’ve been ripped from the glossy pages of a magazine.
Finally the couple manages to pry themselves away from each other, and Julia joins us back in the room. “Okay, I hope everyone brought their inner artist along with them ’cause I thought it’d be cute if we all made some custom-designed onesies.” She leads the group over to a long table at the back of the room where a pile of plain, white onesies are sitting beside a pile of permanent markers. “Don’t worry, they’re just for fun, so put whatever you want on ’em,” Julia explains as the ladies start to seat themselves around the table, ready to dive in.
His Promise Page 13
