by Moss, Brooke
The lights in the room dimmed and the only thing I saw was the kidney bean. No other sound in the room filled my ears except the soft thrushing of my child’s heart, and without warning my own heart started to thud in unison. Every single cell in my body squeezed at the same time, and I forgot about Candace, Aubrey, the secret surrounding the baby’s father, and even the hot doctor.
The only thing I could focus on was that flashing heart.
I loved my child. I loved it even though I didn’t even know it. I loved it even though my entire life, my entire world, was changing from right side up to wrong side down. I loved it even though its father wanted nothing to do with it.
I was going to be a mother.
Chapter Three
Dinner at my mother’s house is always an experience. From the time I was little, she’d collected Cabbage Patch dolls. The collection started out in my honor. She said she was gathering the dolls for my sake, her only daughter, her namesake—my full name is Alexandria Patsy Baump—but it became clear by the time I’d started junior high that the collection was hers and hers only.
Cabbage Patch Kids in every size, shape, and color, with every outfit imaginable. Some were preemies with tiny tufts of fake hair atop their plastic heads. Others were kids sporting scooters or skateboards. From a chef’s hat and coat, to an astronaut, all of my mother’s Cabbage Patch Dolls were dressed to the nines, and arranged on the wall-to-wall shelves of her living room as if they’d been frozen mid-activity. Tiny outfits of sunny yellow, bright blue, and varying shades of pink adorned their paunchy bodies, and a thin layer of dust covered each of their ornately styled yarn heads.
Most people in our small corner of Spokane knew Patsy Baump’s house was not for the faint of heart. When you entered her house, you had to be prepared for tens of thousands of eyes to watch your every move, and to feel utterly creeped out as you use the bathroom while a horde of beady-eyed doll children observe.
“Lexie, dear, you’re late. What gives?” my mother asked when I walked into her house.
I’d been walking on air after my sonogram, putting the finishing touches on the pate squares I’d been making with a silly grin splayed on my face. So many emotions to sort through. Excitement and anticipation over impending motherhood. Trepidation about the big news I had to share with my family over a bowl of my mother’s famous cheddar ham soup. And the surprising crush on my obstetrician I was now sporting, despite the fact that he was well aware I’d been too sick to shave my legs properly in weeks.
“Sorry.” I pulled off my coat and threw it over a doll’s head. “I worked late. I had a doctor’s appointment this morning that I had to make up time for.”
“Don’t cover up Nathaniel’s head.” My mother plucked my jacket off of the yarn-covered head and patted it lovingly.
I forgot to mention that each of my mother’s dolls had names. First and middle. And each of them had the last name of Baump. Naturally.
She frowned at me, her mouth pursing. “Why did you go to the doctor? Are you getting those headaches again? I told you to have a CAT scan.”
“No. Not headaches.” I hugged my mom and looked around. “Where is everybody?”
“They’re around.” She crossed through the living room to the kitchen where Corbin and Andrea were diligently chopping and sautéing. My younger brother, Darren, was furiously punching buttons on his phone, presumably texting some poor girl who would fall for his charm then get left in the dust within a matter of weeks.
“Who’s your latest victim?” I bumped his chair as I passed.
Darren flashed a twenty-tooth grin and I rolled my eyes. He’d inherited the blonde hair, blue eyes, and undeniable good looks that had served so many in my family well. His man-beauty was so dazzling that at times it was easy for even me to forget that at twenty-five years old, he was a college dropout who worked at a cell phone store in the mall and chased women who were barely old enough to have a legal drink. Darren had no intention of ever settling down, which added to the pressure my mother thrust upon me to remarry and procreate as quickly as possible. In my last birthday card, she’d suggested freezing my eggs.
Well, at least I had the procreation thing in the bag. That was something.
“Her name is Pandi, and she’s a dancer.” He announced this with pride. As if he were announcing he’d caught the Loch Ness Monster.
“What kind of a name is Pandi? Is she a large black and white bear?” I snatched a piece of stale candy out of the dish sitting on my mother’s counter and popped it in my mouth, instantly inducing a wave of nausea. Fifteen-year-old ribbon candy was officially off the list of edible first trimester foods.
“No. She’s stacked, though.” Darren waggled his eyebrows and went back to his texting.
“Ugh. You’re a pig.” I flared my nostrils at him. “Mom, how did you manage to raise such a pig?”
“Breast milk,” she announced definitively, stirring the pot of soup.
“Geez, Ma! We’re about to eat.” Darren twisted his handsome face.
I heard Corbin and Andrea snickering and poked them both on the shoulder. “Don’t encourage her. I don’t want to hear about Mom’s boobs anymore than the rest of you.”
My mother gave me a pointed look over the top of the pink-lensed glasses. “Ha, ha, ha. Laugh it up, but it’s a fact. He’s the only one of you kids I didn’t breastfeed. Now look at him. Completely unable to commit.”
“I can commit,” Darren said defensively. “I just choose not to.”
Corbin looked up from the lettuce he was chopping. “So what kind of dancer is this Pandi-bear?”
Andrea raised an eyebrow at him. “I think we both know the answer to that.”
“I’m with your wife on this one.” I leaned on the countertop and snatched a piece of celery.
“She studied ballet. Before.” Darren’s phone beeped and he chuckled quietly at whatever the text said.
“Before what?” I asked around my bite.
“Before dancing in the cage at the Lusty Lass.” Corbin nudged me.
“Would you two stop it?” My mother snapped a towel at us. “She could be the one.”
“So you want Darren to marry a stripper, Ma?” Corbin laughed.
“It’s honest work.” She shook her head.
I poked my oldest brother in the ribs. “You just wish you moved as good as the girls who work at the Lusty Lass.”
Corbin stared off in the distance dreamily. “That’s the truth.”
My mom and Andrea exchanged a smirk, and I rolled my eyes. Like me, Corbin inherited our late father’s red hair and fair skin. Unfortunately for both of us, we’d skipped the rhythm gene as well, so it was inevitable that we were always the whitest and least coordinated people on the dance floor at every family wedding. Sad, really.
“I think you all need to support your little brother.” My mother ignored the face Corbin made at me. “You never know. This Candi—”
“Pandi,” Andrea corrected.
“Pandi,” she said with a shake of her head. “Could be your sister-in-law someday—”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Ma,” Darren called.
“And since you aren’t dating anyone, Lexie, someone has to give me grandkids.” She hoisted the soup pot off of the stovetop and lugged it to the table, nodding at Corbin and Andrea. “No offense, dears.”
My brother’s and his wife’s faces both dropped, making my heart clench. When my mother whisked out of the room, leaving behind the faded aroma of Red Door perfume, Corbin rubbed Andrea on the back. My hands instinctively went to my lower abdomen. It felt like something warm and glowing was nestled deeply in there. It felt wrong for my brother and his wife to crave parenthood as vehemently as they did, and I’d managed to stumble upon my pregnancy the same way others discovered that they’d found a crumpled twenty-dollar bill in the bottom of their washing machine.
“Come on,” Andrea said, wiping her nose. She plucked the ceramic bowl of salad up and followed my mothe
r’s trail to the dining room. “Dinner’s about to start.”
We sat down around the table, Darren’s thumbs furiously punching his phone while we all started passing the food around.
“Darren Kyle Baump, put that phone down and pay attention to your family,” my mother barked from her spot at the head of the table. We all served ourselves and dug in.
“Mom, the soup is great as always.” Corbin wiped his mouth with a napkin. “When are you going to share your recipe with me so I can make it for Andrea at home?”
My mother shifted in her seat, and she patted her blonde helmet proudly. Flattery got people everywhere with my mom. “It’s a secret.”
“I realize that.” Corbin took another bite and closed his eyes. “But I’m thirty-five now. Don’t you think I’m old enough to be trusted with the sacred family recipes?”
Andrea nodded. “Like the pumpkin cheesecake recipe.”
I pointed my fork at my mother. “And the potato salad.”
Darren stopped shoveling food into his mouth, and looked up from his bowl. “And the finger jello.”
Corbin stared at him. “Of all of Mom’s recipes, you want the one for finger jello?”
“Finger jello is awesome.” Darren wiggled his eyebrows. “Jello shots, dude.”
Rolling my eyes, I went back to my soup. “You’re a child.”
“No, I’m not.” He shoved another bite in. “A child cannot legally drink. I, on the other hand, can.” Darren focused his attention on me. “Why are you acting so old, anyway, Lex? It’s not like you’ve got all these responsibilities to keep you home. You should come out with me and Pandi sometime. Do a few shots yourself and loosen up.”
“I don’t need to loosen up.” I put my spoon down slowly. My stomach had turned into merry-go-round. Good Lord, was I ever going to be able to eat a meal without wanting to yak again?
“Yes, you do.” Darren laughed. “You’re wound tight. Seriously, come out with me this weekend. My friend, Spoons, thinks you’re cute.”
“Spoons?” Andrea chuckled. “Do I even want to know where someone gets the nickname of Spoons?”
Corbin choked on his soup. “I say go for it, Lex. Go out with Spoons, and let Pandi and Darren show you a good time.”
“Do you have any friends with normal names?” I asked my little brother, who’d pulled his phone out again, and was texting under the table.
“Yes,” he said. “Barry. Joe. Axel. Rosco.”
Corbin, Andrea, and I all dissolved into giggles, and my mom just shook her head. “Your friends have terrible names,” she sighed. “Lexie, did you know that Andrea and Corbin bought a new house to flip on the South Hill?”
The South Hill was one of Spokane’s most coveted neighborhoods. With its hills, mature pine and maple trees lining the center of the roads in between the lanes, and turn of the century homes, I’d been dreaming about living there for years. “Really?” I asked, pushing my bowl back. “No kidding, guys? Where at?”
Corbin squeezed his wife’s hand. “It’s on Elm, and it is completely made of brick, with paned windows and a tiny courtyard out front.”
“It’s gorgeous. Apparently the owner died five years ago, and it’s been empty ever since. His children finally decided to sell, since it’s gone into such disrepair.” Andrea grinned.
She and Corbin’s reputation in the world of real estate around these parts was impressive, to say the least. The local realtors loved telling their buyers that they were selling a “Baump Home.” The name was synonymous with exceptional quality and high-end finishings. No corners cut by Corbin and Andrea. They took pride in their work, and it showed.
“We’re going to bring it back to life.” Corbin nodded affirmatively. “The plan is to have it done in three or four months. Why don’t you buy it, Lex? That should be enough time for you to put in notice at your apartment and arrange for financing.”
“It’s the perfect house for you.” Andrea helped herself to more soup. “It’s a buyers’ market right now, you know.”
My mother laughed breezily. “What? You want Alexandria to buy a house? On her own? Alone?”
Darren looked up from his phone. “That means the same thing, Ma.”
“Hush.” She scolded him. “Now, Lexie, you’re not seriously considering this, are you?”
I gaped at her. “I just found out about it. I’m not seriously considering anything right now. Don’t you think it’s a good idea?” An image of the little flashing heart I’d seen on my ultrasound earlier, and my chest expanded. “I’m thirty. It’s probably time I put down some roots somewhere.”
My mother waved my words away like a fly. “Oh, shush. You’re not even married.”
My cheeks heated. “Last time I checked, they give home loans to single women, too.”
“I know, but you wouldn’t want to be a homeowner without a man around.” She gestured all around her. “It’s a horrible headache to have something need repair with no husband around to fix it.”
“Oh, come on. You just call Pastor Irm to fix it,” Darren said, not bothering to look up.
“I do not.” Embarrassment pinked my mother’s round cheeks.
My mother tried very unsuccessfully to hide that she was in love with the pastor, and had been for a long time. Yet she was on every committee the church offered that required her to work directly with the pastor, and ate dinner with him at least twice a week.
My brothers and I referred to it as evidence. She referred to it as stewardship. We all silently agreed not to discuss it.
“Well, we could help Lexie if something went wrong,” Corbin said.
“That’s right.” Andrea smiled at me across the table. “What’s the point in having two carpenters in the family if you don’t use them?”
“But you didn’t get your first house until you’d married my Corbin.” My mother blinked a few times. “Would you really have wanted to do it alone?”
Andrea shrugged. “If that’s the way my life had turned out, then yes.”
My mom snorted. “It’s ludicrous. Come on, Lexie. Find yourself a good man. Someone much more mature than that Nate, and settle down. You’ll get a house and a gaggle of kids to care for.”
I ignored the way she’d said my ex husband’s name like it was dripping in acid and burning her tongue, and smiled patiently at her. “Did you just use the term ‘gaggle’?”
“Yes, I did.” She took another bite. “Now, let’s talk about you. What have you been up to lately, dear?”
All eyes rolled over to me, and I felt the sonogram pictures in my jeans pocket start to burn a hole. I was on the verge of dropping a double whammy on my family, and it was contributing to my nausea. My mother’s reaction, which I was predicting would be exceptionally theatrical, would be nothing compared to the disappointment on Corbin’s and Andrea’s faces.
“Well, like I said when I got here.” I swallowed, and avoided my mother’s probing eyes. “I went to the doctor today.”
“What for?” my mother demanded.
“That’s all you have to tell us?” Darren rolled his eyes. “Seriously. Get out more.”
“Can it,” I hissed. “So anyway, there’s something I need to tell you all.”
Corbin leaned forward, resting his elbows on the tabletop. “Are you okay?”
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph in Jerusalem, she’s got cancer!” My mother pressed a hand to her ample bosom and choked on immediate tears. “I knew it. I knew it. When your dad had the aneurysm, I knew that it would strike one of you kids next. I just knew it.”
“She didn’t have an aneurysm,” Darren pointed out. “She’s sitting right here.”
“Then it’s cancer!” Mom bellowed.
Andrea jumped out of her chair and went to put her arm around my mom’s shoulders. “Shhh, Patsy. Relax. Lexie hasn’t even told us what she went to the doctor for.”
“Or what kind of a doctor she went to see.” Darren scoffed, grabbing another roll. “She could have gone to a woman d
octor or something.”
My mother yowled. “Ovarian cancer!”
My head flopped into my hands and I grit my teeth. “Seriously, Mom. I don’t have cancer, all right? Can you take a breath and let me finish my damn announcement?”
Her tears immediately stopped. “There’s no need for language.”
“Just… everybody relax, all right?” Corbin touched my arm, offering a one-shouldered shrug, as if to say, our mom…what a looney, right? “Go ahead, Lexie.”
Well, here goes nothing, I thought to myself, my hand going into my jeans pocket, and holding the picture underneath the tabletop the same way my brother had tried to hide his phone. “Actually, Darren was right. I went to the woman doctor.”
“Really? Gross. Don’t share that with us,” Darren said around a mouthful of roll.
“Grow up,” Corbin said in his most fatherly voice, which he’d been perfecting since our own dad’s death thirteen years earlier.
“What’s going on?” My mother dissolved into fake tears again. “Ovarian cyst? I’ve had three myself, and they’re horribly painful. Endometriosis? Your Aunt Dory had that. Oh my word, I always knew one of you children would be sick, and I’d have to care for you. Don’t worry, dear, I’ll be here for you. You can move back into your room, and—”
I shook my head. “I’m not moving back in. I don’t have an ovarian cyst or endometriosis, either.”
“Well, for hell’s sake, what’s going on with you?” she demanded, pushing up her glasses and turning off her tears for a second time.
Darren sniggered. “No need for language.”
“Hush.” She swatted her napkin at him, and knocked a roll out of his hand.
Corbin took off his wire-rimmed glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I think we all just need to calm—”
