by Moss, Brooke
Exasperated, I let my palms drop onto the tabletop with a bang. “Yes. Of course. Two parents are better than one. Three parents are better than two. Good Lord, Ma, it’s not like my baby is going to be born in a crack house full of prostitutes and pimps. We’ve been through this already.”
“I didn’t think it would be.” Her voice started to quaver. I knew that once the tears started, I was going to have to leave. I was entirely too pregnant for my mom’s tears. “But if I didn’t admit that I wish you’d chosen a more traditional path, I would be lying. And you know how I feel about lying, Alexandria.”
My molars ground together painfully. “Your feelings about lying are slightly hypocritical, Mother, considering your crush on Pastor Irm.”
Both Darren and Corbin looked down at their plates. Andrea covered her face. This was the “untouchable topic” we’d all declared off limits long ago. When Andrea met our family for the first time—aptly in this very dining room over a pan of extra cheesy lasagna eight years ago—she’d asked my mother how long she and Pastor Irm had been dating. My mother cried for a week, and referred to Andrea as “that woman” for almost a year.
“What in the world are you talking about?” My mother’s eyes flicked between Pastor Irm and me.
Pastor Irm scooted his hand farther away from hers on the tabletop. “I, uh, think it’s time to say grace. We forgot to bless the meal.”
“Hold it, Jesus freak. I’m talking to my mother!” Pregnancy hormones flooded my body like a dam had burst somewhere between my uterus and my brain.
My mom gasped so hard, she nearly tipped her chair backwards, and Darren snorted. This was it. I was going too far, and I knew it. But the wheels had come off of the bus, and now it was careening out of control.
Corbin touched my arm. “Lex, why don’t you sit down and—”
I jerked out of his grip. “No.”
“You are being very disrespectful.” My mother fanned her face. “You’re breaking my heart, do you know that? You’re rejecting everything I’m doing to help you. If you just gave me a chance, you’d be married before this baby even arrives. And then we could all take a breath of relief.”
“You know why I haven’t asked you to be there for the birth, Ma?” I hoisted myself out of my chair, and leaned over the table. I could feel warmth from my uneaten lasagna soaking my shirt over my belly. “Because you’re insane. Certifiable. If you came to the birth, you’d probably bring a date for me. Then I’d be stuck entertaining some forty-something loser who can’t get laid without an old woman’s help all while I try to push my kid out!”
Kyle choked on his bite of salad.
Pastor Irm patted him on the back. “It’s okay, son. She didn’t mean it.”
“Yes, I did.” I snapped.
My mother craned her neck to look Kyle. “It’s the pregnancy hormones, dear. They’ve taken over. When she’s not expecting, she’s really quite tolerable. You’ll learn to love her eventually.”
My eyes rolled from her, to Kyle, and back again. “Mom. You didn’t.”
She dabbed at her eyes with her napkin. “I was just trying to give you a little nudge.”
Sighing, I brushed the cheese off of my now stained tee shirt, and nodded at my brothers. I couldn’t believe this was happening again. When would I wise up to my mom’s predictability? Good grief, the moment I walked in and spotted Kyle, I should have known. It was a set up, just like the sweaty guy at the mall. My mom was nothing if not consistent.
“I’m not so bad,” Kyle’s voice cracked. “I’ve got a real nice Toyota Sentra.”
Is this what it had come to? I was so pathetic that I had to choose a life partner based on how nice his economy sedan was?
“I’ve got to go.” I turned on my heel and charged for the door.
Chapter Sixteen
I didn’t see anyone in my family for almost two weeks. Corbin and Darren seemed to understand why, but my mom? She was another story.
Twelve voice mail messages, varying from angry to apologetic, were deleted off my phone. I didn’t want to hear anything else she had to say. There were only so many ways she could tell me I was disappointing her, and I’d already heard them all.
Her point sank in: I was a colossal failure. Got it.
But during my ‘anti-family sabbatical,’ I’d been working on another plan. A plan that nobody, save for my unborn child, was aware of. And judging by the way he or she kicked when I talked about it, they were as excited about it as I was.
I was going to buy the brick bungalow with the window seat. I’d applied for a home loan, and by some miracle, or the lining up of at least a bazillion stars, I’d gotten it. Now all I had to do was present my offer to Corbin. I didn’t have a realtor, but who needed one? I was offering full price, and I was his kid sister. More money for him if we didn’t use one, anyway. It was a win/win.
I practically danced up to the front door of the bungalow. This was going to be amazing. It almost made up for the fact that Fletcher was probably out with Marisol at this exact moment, enjoying a sunny Saturday making out. Or more.
Tucking my loan paperwork underneath my arm, I poised my hand above the doorbell and took a breath. Here went nothing.
The door swung open unexpectedly, and I jumped, dropping all of the papers.
“Lex! What are you doing here?” Andrea appeared before me, just when the papers scattered at my feet.
“I came as a surprise,” I told her, as we both bent down to pick up the papers. “I have something to show you and Corbin.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Isn’t that nice? We have someone here right now, so can—”
I stood back upright. “Well, you can send them home, because when you hear what I’ve got cooking, you’re gonna flip!”
Andrea’s eyes flicked down to my belly. “What you’ve got cooking? Oh, my goodness. Did you have another ultrasound after all? Do you know the sex? Come on in.”
Argh. Having a pregnant belly was like a one-way ticket to monopolizing every situation you’re in, whether you like it or not. “No, I—”
Andrea stepped aside and called out. “Candace! She found out the sex of the baby!”
“Candace?” Wrinkling my forehead, I followed Andrea into the bright living room.
“Yeah, Candace and Brian brought someone over to see the house.” Andrea stopped and put her hands on my shoulders. “Lex, listen—”
“Lexie!” The chorus of tiny voices was nearly drowned out by the thundering footsteps of six pairs of feet. Around the corner charged Candace’s and Brian’s kids.
“Oh, hey guys!” I bent down to press a kiss to each of their sweaty heads.
“Howdy stranger,” Candace called, pulling me into an unexpected hug. My loan papers hit the floor again.
“Whoops. Uh, hi.” I gasped for air as my cousin squeezed me. “What are you guys doing here?”
Brian grinned proudly. “Selling the house for Corbin and Andrea.”
All the oxygen—or, what was left of it after Candace’s hug—whooshed out of my lungs. “You did what?”
Candace put her hands on my belly. “Wait. Did Andrea say that you found out what the baby is?”
“Ten bucks says it’s a girl.” Brian reached in his pocket, producing a five-dollar bill. “Honey, do you have any cash?”
Candace shook her head. “You’re wrong. It’s a boy.”
“You really think it’s a boy?” Andrea’s hands joined Candace’s on my stomach. “I really think it’s a girl.”
“Ugh, would you two stop?” I wriggled out from under their hands. “Did you guys sell the house?”
Andrea’s focus snapped back up to my face. “Oh, yeah. Listen, we need to talk.”
“Why do you guys want to buy this house?” I stared, open mouthed, at Candace and Brian. They were foiling my whole plan. “There aren’t even enough bedrooms for your kids.”
Candace laughed. “Us? No, no, no. We love our house.”
Brian threw his
arm around Andrea’s shoulder. “We’re just helping out our cousins.”
“What are you talking about?” I tried to look past the three of them. I could hear Corbin talking to someone in the kitchen. “Who’s buying my house?”
Andrea chewed her lip. “Listen, I need to talk to… wait, your house?”
I bent down and scooped up one of my fallen documents. “I got a loan! I want to buy the house!”
Candace covered her mouth. “Oh, crap.”
Ever cheerful Brian offered me a friendly smile. “Better luck next time, Lex. But hey, the good news is, your doc gets to live here. Small world, huh?”
Andrea winced.
“Fletcher came to see it a few nights ago, and made an offer today,” Candace said. “Corbin’s signing the purchase agreement right now.”
Shivers danced across my skin, and I shuddered—yes, shuddered—at the mention of the good doctor’s name. “F-fletcher’s here?”
I wanted to do a happy dance, and throw myself onto the floor for a tantrum at the same time. Andrea’s eyes screamed an apology as my brother and Fletcher entered the room.
“Hey, sis. You know Fletcher, right?” Corbin called, clapping Fletcher on the back. Andrea made a face at him, and his eyes widened. “Oh, right. Of course you do.”
Fletcher’s cheeks reddened when he saw me. In true Fletcher style, his hair had been tousled into perfect bed head, and his low-slung faded jeans accented his vintage Elvis (Elvis!) tee shirt perfectly.
“Lexie.” That was all Fletcher said. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at me.
“Fletcher.” I tugged my denim jacket around my belly as best I could.
Now, let’s get one thing clear: I was so grateful to be pregnant, and the thought of holding my baby in my arms soon was almost more than I could stand. But, if there was ever a time when I wished I could have my thin frame and flat belly back, this was it.
Fletcher’s eyes grazed over my whole body, from my faded Chuck Taylor’s to the bandana in my hair, leaving a trail of electricity behind as they moved. There was no denying the volt of energy surging between the two of us. Hell, if the lights had been on in the house, they would’ve blinked.
Brian cleared his throat, and I suddenly remembered that Fletcher and I weren’t alone.
“So, um, Fletcher,” he said. “Did you know Lexie found out the sex of the baby?”
Fletcher blinked a few times. “What? Did you have another ultrasound? I didn’t see the scans.”
When I shook my head, it felt like I was underwater. “No.”
“She came to make an offer on the house.” Andrea rubbed her forehead. “I feel so bad.”
Corbin stepped forward. “You want to buy the house?”
“I, uh, yes.” I held up a rumpled sheet of paper. “I got a loan. I didn’t get a realtor. I knew you’d make more money that way.”
“I didn’t, either.” Fletcher ducked his head. “Lexie, I’m so sorry, I had no idea you were interested in the house.”
“Neither did I.” Corbin pressed his lips together. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Tears flooded my eyes, and I opened them wider to prevent them from spilling. Curse these damned hormones. “I didn’t want to say anything until I was completely certain. I came over as soon as I got the paperwork.”
Candace took my hand. “Oh, honey, don’t cry. It’s okay. There’ll be other houses.”
The tears escaped, and slid down my face. I didn’t want another house. I wanted this house. I practically saw myself holding my baby in the window seat upstairs, and making my morning coffee in the sunny kitchen. This was how I would prove to myself—and to my mother—that I didn’t need a husband to take care of the baby and me, that I could do it on my own. Being a homeowner was the ultimate proof.
Andrea and Candace wrapped their arms around me, while all three men stood in an awkward semicircle. “No, no, no.” I waved them away. “It’s no big deal. I’m just tired. That’s all. I’m just… I’m just…”
“Disappointed,” Andrea finished for me.
Fletcher turned to Corbin. “I’m tearing up the deal.”
“Wait.” A look of panic flashed across my brother’s face. “Lexie, are you serious? Are you sure you’ve got financing?”
Fletcher reached for the papers in Corbin’s hand. “Listen, she’s family, she—”
“No.” I straightened my shoulders. “Ignore the tears. They fall at random, I’m telling you. I’m really fine with this. I promise. Fletcher—” Saying his name gave a zap of hysteria right down into my core, and the baby flipped in my belly. “It’s your house. I promise.”
Corbin dragged a hand down the length of his face. “Argh. I don’t know what to do.”
Fletcher’s bright blue eyes bored into mine. “I’m so sorry.”
“You couldn’t have known.”
The air between us was heavy, and judging by the uncomfortable expressions on everyone’s faces, they could feel it, too.
After an awkward pause that lasted entirely too long, Candace cleared her throat. When I moved my gaze to her face, she widened her eyes. We’d been close our whole lives, and I knew this expression to mean, What in the world is going on with you?
I shrugged. It was all I could do.
“Why don’t we give Lexie and Fletcher a few minutes to sort this out,” she offered, corralling everyone towards the door. “Kids, come on. Let’s go look at the pretty landscaping Andrea did in the backyard.”
The sound of a toilet flushing rang out, and then the kids toddled their way through the living room and out the French doors. Brian, Corbin, Andrea, and Candace followed, and when the door clicked shut, Fletcher and I found ourselves standing alone on the gleaming hickory floors.
Fletcher took my hand, and by gosh, the thrill shooting up my arm was practically lethal. “Lexie, take the house. It’ll be a great place for you and the baby.”
“No, it’s perfect for you and Martha.” I turned my palm so our fingers laced together. It was like our hands had been cut to match each other’s. We fit together like puzzle pieces.
No, wait.
Fletcher was Marisol’s boyfriend. Not mine. Marisol’s. And Marisol was my friend. Good grief, I needed to rein it in.
“Where are your girls?” I asked, pulling my hand away.
“My girls?” A wrinkle formed between his eyebrows.
“Martha and Marisol.” I stepped backwards to widen the space between us. He followed.
“Oh, right.” He cringed. “They’re getting pedicures today. Martha doesn’t know I’m here. It’s a surprise.”
I forced a smile. What a lovely mother-daughter outing for Marisol and Martha. I wondered how Marisol was tolerating it. She usually got her pedicures at high-end salons that didn’t exactly welcome children. Of course, they could be having the time of their lives, holding hands and gazing at each other in familial adoration. Jealousy pressed down on my shoulders.
“Pedicures sound fun,” I squeaked.
He chuckled. “I’m trying to help them bond a little.”
“Got it.” Nodding, I pressed a hand to my belly. Both the baby, and my nerves, were going wild. And when Fletcher inched closer to me, it didn’t help.
His cerulean eyes moved to my middle. “You all right? Nauseous?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Just nervous.”
His palm went to my stomach. “Baby moving? Sleeping okay? Eating enough protein?”
“Yup. Everything’s good.” I backed away from his touch. It felt too freaking good. Like something that could melt me right into a puddle on the floor if I let it.
“Good.” We’d now moved into the hallway off the living room. Even though it was dimmer there, Fletcher’s eyes still sparkled. “Listen, Lexie, I won’t buy the house. There are other houses out there.”
My heart twisted. I pictured Martha running across the front yard after getting off the school bus, a backpack bouncing on her shoulder, her dark curls flyin
g out behind her. “Absolutely not. This is yours and Martha’s home. I can feel it.”
He looked around, his eyes scanning across the crown molding and refinished built-in cabinetry. The corners of his mouth pricked upward. “I really do love this house.”
My palm covered his hand on my middle. “Then you should live here.”
His eyes came back to mine. “You really think so?”
“Yeah.”
And I meant it. I mean, I wanted the house. Bad. But I could see Martha cozied up to the fireplace with a cup of cocoa in the winter while Fletcher set up a freshly cut Christmas tree in the corner. It was the perfect house for them. “Maybe I’ll buy the house next door, and we’ll be neighbors.”
“That would be great.” Something flashed in Fletcher’s eyes, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. His lower lip pulled between his teeth while I was trying to figure it out. He looked so edible when he did that.
“So that’s settled,” I whispered.
Fletcher took hold of my upper arms and brought me against his chest. I could feel his heart galloping. “You really are something, Lex. Thank you.”
I opened and closed my mouth a few times, but couldn’t think of anything relevant to say. The scent that was so him flooded my senses, making my ears ring and my eyes slide shut against my will. He smelled like fabric softener, and minty toothpaste, and something else. Something musky and so, undeniably male it made my toes curl in my sneakers.
“I wish…” Fletcher’s words petered out, and we were left in the dim hallway with silence all around us.
His hands started tracing circles on my back, leaving trails of tickling heat behind them as they went. I shivered beneath his touch, knowing I needed to put a stop to it, but wanting it to go on for at least another hour. Maybe two. Or possibly forever. The moment stretched out from three seconds, to five, and then to ten. I felt Fletcher’s nose against my messy hair, and listened as he drew in a deep breath. The electricity between us was so strong, it nearly buckled my knees
“You wish what?” I pulled back and looked up at him.