Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
“My mother’s a robot,” Liam used to say.
I’m about to say something when I see my mother step out onto the walkway. She will cause a scene, and rightly so, but this isn’t the time nor the place. I sidestep Bianca and paste a happy smile on my face as I hold the two new outfits up.
“What do you think?”
“Is that—”
I turn and see Bianca retreating. I don’t need my mom to ask if it was Bianca. I already know she suspects it was her. I shake my head. “No, just some woman looking for directions.”
I’m not sure if my mom believes me or not. As long as there isn’t a scene in the store, I don’t care.
After our stop, she takes me out for ice cream since the guys are loading up the trucks for our big move tomorrow and there isn’t anything I can do, other than supervise and bark out orders. I order a large sundae, with hot fudge, sprinkles, whip cream and a cherry on top. I don’t plan to share with her either.
“You know, you can move home and I’ll help with the baby,” she says after she places her order for a banana spilt. As much as I don’t plan on sharing, I do plan to take some bites of hers and wonder if I should change my order.
“I know,” I tell her. “But this is something I need to do on my own. I appreciate you and Dad so much.”
“We just want what’s best for you.”
And I just want Liam back.
It’s moving day, and aside from suggesting where our couch should go, I’m up in my room, which is also the nursery, decorating. I went with a teddy bear theme, figuring it was neutral enough for a boy or a girl. My dad and Mason’s dad put the baby’s crib together, and Mason’s mom cleaned our apartment with every lemon product she could find.
Katelyn helps me put decorations up on the baby’s side of the room. We fold clothes, burp rags, receiving blankets, and an assortment of other items. The baby’s going-home outfit is a Beaumont football footed pajama ensemble with a hat, from uncle Mason as he’s now calling himself. I thought it was cute that he bought the baby something and he’s been my rock since my second trimester. He even went to Lamaze class with me, to help with the early part of labor. I haven’t decided yet if he’s going to be in the delivery room. Sometimes I think he is because he’s earned it, but then I think it might be odd for him.
I stopped being mad Mason a long time ago. There was no point. He did what Liam ended up doing in the end—following his heart and his dreams. Katelyn is Mason’s whole world. Music is Liam’s. It’s a hard pill to swallow sometimes, knowing you’re not enough. Mason made me enough when he didn’t have to. He stepped in for Liam and made me a priority. I’ll never be able to thank him for putting me first when the father of my baby didn’t.
Well, he couldn’t.
It’s hard to tell someone you’re pregnant when they change their phone number. I wouldn’t know how to get a hold of him if I tried, short of going to a concert and holding up a sign that says: You have a kid. I’m sure if I did that, I’d be booted from the venue.
Katelyn sets up the changing table, stacking diapers, lotions, and creams while I head down to the kitchen and start organizing the shelves. I’ve saved enough money to pay my portion of the rent through the summer and will return to work part-time when the baby is two months. I’d love to be one of those mothers who can stay home and raise their child, but that’ll never be me, and honestly, I’m okay with it.
My dream, the one I shared with Liam, isn’t coming to fruition. It’s laughable now that I think of it because we were sixteen when we talked about him being in the NFL and us living in a house with a white picket fence. He was going to be this famous quarterback and I was going to be his wife. Now, he’s a famous musician and I’m a single mom.
If you ask me, I got the better part of the dream.
I’ll always have a piece of Liam, while he’ll never have any part of me ever again. I hope the memories he has of me haunt him until he can’t take it any longer, and then I hope they haunt him even more.
At some point, someone calls for pizza and my stomach growls loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Yes,” Mason says as he gives my stomach a high five. “That’s my niece or nephew.”