Momcrossed her arms and turned her eyes toward an autumnal orange sky. “It’s noneof my business what you do with your life, Kenny, and I know you’re not askingfor my two cents—”
“Oh,like that’s ever stopped you before,” I laughed, lifting the ovalpumpkinand turning it around in my hands.
“It’sjust that your dad and I know that you deserve a man who’s not going to abandonyou when you need him the most, and youneedhim right now.”
“He’sentitled to feel the way he’s feeling,” I muttered, once again defending theman who knocked me up and walked away.
“Yes,”she agreed, nodding firmly. “He’s entitled to feel whatever the hell he wantsto feel. But he’s not entitled to just walk away from the woman carrying hischild. I mean, even if he has decided that he doesn’t want to be with youanymore, he can at least support you and offer some help when you need it.That’s what a good man would do.”
“Well,I guess this is just what he feels he needs to do right now,” I replied, myheart sore and my eyes stinging.
“Well,I guess he’s not a good man, then,” she fired back, full of anger and spite.
Deepdown, I knew her feelings came from a place of love for me and I knew she wasdisgusted and disappointed. Hell, so was I. But the emotional turmoil siphoningthrough my brain could’ve done without the attack on my deadbeat boyfriend, thefather of my unborn baby. Regardless of how right I knew she was.
Asshe witnessed the welling of tears in my eyes, Mom hurried to me with openedarms. “Honey, no, I’m sorry. Don’t be upset.”
Stillholding the heavy pumpkin in my hands, l pressed my eyes to her shoulder. “Ijust don’t want to deal with this right now, okay? I can’t wrap my head aroundeverything.”
“Iknow,” she soothed, rubbing her hand against my back. “I shouldn’t have broughtit up.”
“Ijust don’t know what I’d do without him.”
Itwas a weak statement and I felt weak for saying it. I hadneverbeforefelt like I relied on Brendan for happiness and security, or anyman for that matter. It was how I’d so easily broken up with him countlesstimes before, all without a flinch or a moment of hesitation. But now, with thebrand-new life we had created together, growing by the second in my belly, Isuddenly felt a strong reliance. It was like it had always been there, justwaiting to rear its ugly head.
“It'shard to let go of something that's been there for so long,” Mom said gently,stroking her fingers through my hair. “But I think it's supposed to be, so itfeelsthatmuch better when you're finally free. Or when you findsomething better.”
“It'snot like I've been his prisoner, Mom.”
“Maybenot, but you've both been stuck on thisfreakin'hamster wheel for years. And I know it's because you're both comfortable andgoing back to each other is easier than finding someone new. But maybe it'stime you break out of your comfort zone,” she said, cupping the back of myhead. “You might be surprised by what happens if you do.”
Iwasn't sure I believed what she was saying, but as we left the pumpkin patchwith a nicely shaped, albeit different than the norm, oblong pumpkin, I wassure of one thing.
Mylittle gummi bear might have been cursed with a deadbeat father, but he or shewas lucky,solucky, to have a couple of incredible grandparents.
Chapter Six
Tellingmy parents about the pregnancy, left me feeling a lot lighter, as if I'dunknowingly been carrying the weight of a thousand bricks on my shoulders.
Overdinner Saturday night, the three of us had discussed baby names, and on Sunday,Mom and I threw around tentative baby shower ideas. What had recently felt likea dismal future now felt brighter and a little more hopeful, and by the timeMonday morning rolled around, I was ready to face the daunting task offinishing my upcoming novel.
Ihad begun the year with a solid plan to release four books over the course oftwelve months. I wrote full-time, I had no other obligations, and since Ipublished everything myself, it was completely conceivable that I could pull itoff. But that was so many months ago, back in January, and well before Isuddenly found myself pregnant, just as I began working on book number four.
Butthe only way to pull off the working mom thing, was for me toactually dothe work. And since I was finished wallowing ina neck-deep hole of self-pity, I had devised a plan to write diligently overthe next seven days, ensuring I could send this year's fourth book to my editorat the beginning of the following week. I realized though, thatin order todo that, I needed to remove myself from theusual distractions. No cat and no four walls of an apartment that no longerfelt perfect. And that was how I found myself walking into The Thirsty Goose,with my messenger bag looped over my shoulder.
“Well,if it isn't a girl named Kenny.”
Iignored the wiser decision of occupying a quiet table in a corner and insteadapproached the bar with a smile.
“CanI ask you a question?” I said, lifting onto a stool and wondering how muchlonger I'd be able to do it.
“Maybe,”he answered with a smirk, already collecting the ingredients for the drink thatwas beginning to feel like mine. “Depends on the question.”
“Well,that isn't suspicious at all,” I laughed, as I laid my bag on the dark,gleaming surface. “Youhidingsomething?”
“We'reall hiding something from someone,” he quipped, waggling his brows.
Thestatement warranted pause and I froze, while sliding my laptop from the bag,permitting his words to seep in. I immediately knew that I’d use them myselfone day. The amount of truth between each letter was insurmountable and I lovedusing my storiesas a way totell the truths no onelikes to speak.
