In the meantime, I whiplashed between bliss and nausea.
Radish will be born in May. She’ll be a summer baby. We’ll rock together on the porch while the peonies I planted are in bloom. Bliss.
Ugh, someone microwaved fish in the office. Nausea.
Steven nicknamed my fetus Radish and now I can’t call it anything else. I landed somewhere in between bliss and nausea with that one. How had Steven gone from being the person I wanted to drop kick off the earth to the person I wanted holding my hand during my baby’s first sonogram?
It had to be the baby hormones, making me latch on to the first big, strong man in my vicinity like I was some cavewoman in need of masculine protection. Evolution had programmed me for this. Feminism was no match for his sharp jawline, broad shoulders, and all that fuckingcompetence.
Fuck evolution. I could do this on my own.
I walked the entire floorplan of the bungalow, measuring tape in hand, for the ninth time. Nine hundred square feet wasn’t a lot to work with, but babies were, what, twelve inches? Of course I wanted my little Radish to have everything in this world, but we could make do with the bare necessities. A crib (twenty-eight by fifty-two inches), a high chair (which I wouldn’t even need until Radish was a year old), and a dresser (with a changing table on top). Three items. I could find space for three items.
Somewhere.
The closet, maybe? The walk-in closet in my bedroom was crammed full of who knew what, but I was pretty sure it would fit a crib if I cleaned it out.
I pivoted to my bedroom just as my cell phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket, saw my landlord’s name, and put it on speaker. “Hi, Miriam. How are you?” My lease was up next month, so I wasn’t surprised that she was calling to check in. I was hoping she would be willing to sign a two-year agreement this time around. “Perfect timing.”
“Good, honey, good.” Miriam heaved a long sigh—which, quite frankly, did notsoundgood. “As for the timing…that’s not so good, I’m afraid.”
I frowned at my phone, my hand flexing around the measuring tape.
“Listen, honey, I know how much you love the place, so I wanted to tell you right away. My daughter needs the bungalow. She’s getting a divorce, and she doesn’t have a lot of options.”
I stared dumbstruck at my overflowing closet. “But…butIneed the bungalow,” I stammered.
“I know the timing is terrible. But you have family in the area who can help you out. And you have two months until you need to be out. That’s plenty of time to find other arrangements.”
Right. Because Aspen Springs had an abundance of affordable housing. I was so screwed.
After we hung up, I wandered the house in a daze. For the last two years, this had been my sanctuary. Close enough to the clinic that I didn’t have to find a more expensive apartment in the city. Close enough to my family that I could help them anytime they needed it, but far enough away that I finally had some breathing room. I loved this place.
I stepped out onto the porch, wrapping my arms around my midsection to protect myself from the sharp autumn breeze. Mygaze landed on the peony bushes I had planted when I moved in. The branches were bare now. Radish would never see them bloom.
I sank into a pathetic ball there on my welcome mat and burst into tears.
“Chloe! Chloe, what the fuck!”
The pure panic in Steven’s voice had me scrambling to my feet, but I was crying too hard to get out more than a hiccupping sob. Through the blurry teardrops in my eyes, I saw him toss a package on the porch swing before gathering me into his arms.
“What happened, princess? Are you hurt?” He pushed my hair off my damp cheeks. “Is it…is it the baby?” he asked hoarsely.
“We’re homeless!” I wailed.
His eyes darted frantically over my face. “The baby is…still in there?”
I nodded, hiccupping.
His forehead dropped to mine and I felt his chest expand on a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. Let’s get you inside and you can tell me all about it.”
“Okay.” I pulled my flannel over my palms and wiped my eyes on cuff. “What are you doing here, Steven?”
“Delivery. It’s from your mom.” He snagged the package from the swing and followed me inside. “She baked it this morning.”
I peered inside the brown paper bag and then back at him. “A loaf of bread? She asked you to bring me a loaf of bread?” Iasked dubiously. “You don’t even live in my neighborhood. Why would she ask you to bring me this? It doesn’t make any sense.”
He rolled his eyes. “Okay, you caught me. The bread is a ruse. I figured, why not drive an extra hour today just so I can see how you’re doing? It’s not like I have anything better to do on a Saturday.” He shook his head. “For fuck’s sake, princess.”
