Stumbling into Love
Page 37

“I know.” I look at Wesley and narrow my eyes at him.
He shrugs as if to say, “What am I supposed to do?”
“This is all your fault,” I mouth.
He smiles back, mouthing, “Love you.”
“Where is Dad?” I ask Mom. I honestly expected him to follow her dramatic burst into the apartment.
“He’s in the car. He didn’t want to search for parking or double-park in case a cop drives by.” She waves off my question.
“You could have called. You didn’t have to come all the way into the city.”
I sigh and run a hand through my hair. Not that her coming into the city surprises me. I knew as soon as Wesley told me that he told my dad that it wouldn’t be long before my mom found out. I should have called her last night and told her the news myself. We could have avoided all this drama.
“And have you avoid my call? No way.” She shakes her head. “You and your sisters are going to be the death of me. First Fawn runs off and gets married on New Year’s in Vegas just to avoid planning a wedding. And now you don’t tell me that you’re pregnant, but your boyfriend tells your dad. And then Libby . . .”
“Libby?” I say, wondering what the hell Libby could have done.
“Yes, Libby bought a pizza restaurant. Did she tell me about it?” she asks, then shakes her head. “No, she told your dad and had him help her get the loan.”
I blink.
“Did you just say that Libby bought a pizza place?”
“I did.”
“Oh my god. She didn’t tell me,” I whisper. I knew that she had been working at Tony’s a lot lately, but I had no idea she was going to buy it. She never even mentioned it being for sale.
“Well, how does it feel?” Mom asks like a little kid saying neener, neener, neener.
I shake my head at her. It doesn’t feel good, but it’s not the same thing. Libby is my sister, not my mom. Then again, Libby did tell me that she was going to stop sharing things in her life because Fawn and I had been closed off about what was going on in our lives. We kinda deserved this, but that doesn’t change the fact that I will kick her ass for not telling me.
“Mom . . . ,” I say.
She looks at me.
“Wesley and I are pregnant. Right now, your grandchild is about nine weeks old and doing awesome,” I say.
She covers her mouth, and tears fill her eyes.
“Oh, Mom.” I go to her and wrap my arms around her shoulders. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t plan on telling anyone yet. They say you should wait until you are twelve weeks along,” I say.
Wesley makes a noise, so I look at him. “What?”
“Nothing.”
I know he’s lying—I can tell by the look in his eyes.
“What did you do?” I ask in a huff.
“I told my mom and Levi,” he admits, looking sheepish.
“What?” I can’t believe that he’s already been telling people.
“I didn’t know that we were supposed to wait until twelve weeks. In my defense, you never told me that,” he says. I close my eyes and lean my head back to look at the ceiling.
“You know what? Whatever. It doesn’t matter.” I rest my head on my mom’s shoulder and ask, “Are you happy, Mom?”
Forcing me away from her, she looks me in my eyes. “All I have ever wanted for you girls is happiness. Seeing you each get that in your own ways makes me more than happy,” she says softly.
Now it’s time for my eyes to fill with tears.
“I’m so happy for you. I’m so happy that you found your own happiness.”
“Thank you, Mom.” I wipe my eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, honey.” She kisses her fingers and places them against my lips.
“Even though you are crazy, you are the best mom a girl could ever ask for.” I pull her in for one more hug before letting her go. “Now go home before traffic backs up and people going to work are stuck looking at your crazy morning getup.”
“I was in a rush to get here.” She pats her head, and I laugh.
“I can tell,” I say.
She smacks my shoulder. “Love you,” she murmurs. She looks at Wesley. “Come give me a hug,” she commands him.
He comes across the room and wraps her in his arms. She gives a thumbs-up in my direction. Hugging Wesley shirtless is definitely worth a thumbs-up, so I get it. “All right.” She looks between us after she lets him go. “I expect you two over for breakfast or dinner when you both have a day off.”
“We’ll set up a time soon.” I open the door for her. “Tell Dad I love him.”
She waves over her shoulder as she heads up the stairs. Watching her go, I shake my head. I’m sure a few people saw her on the sidewalk this morning, and I have no doubt that they all thought she was a crazy person.
“I like your mom,” Wesley says, wrapping his arms around me and leading me back into the bedroom.
“Do you?” I ask as he pulls his shirt off over my head.
“I do.”
He strips off my pants and his own, then helps me into the bed.
“Did you tell anyone else about the baby?” I ask.
His finger on my hip stops moving.
“I did,” he says.
I wait for a list of names, but he doesn’t continue.
“Who else did you tell?”
“Just a few guys from work.” He kisses the top of my head before settling me impossibly closer.
“You’re happy,” I whisper, realizing that he keeps telling everyone because he’s excited about becoming a dad.
“I’m so happy.” He tips my head back with two fingers under my chin so he can kiss me once more.
“I’m happy you’re happy.”
Kissing his pecs, I close my eyes and say a silent thank-you to whoever it is watching over us and our happily ever after.
Epilogue
MAC
“No.” I pull another pair of shorts out of my drawer and toss them behind me. “No, no, no.” I toss item after item behind me and let out a frustrated breath. None of my stuff fits anymore. In the last seven and a half months, I have gained just about fifty pounds, most of it in the last few weeks. Holding my hands against my naked stomach, I look down at my huge bump.
“Kid, you’re lucky I love you.” My stomach moves like our son knows what I’m saying, and I laugh. I don’t know if I will ever get used to him moving around—it’s the weirdest and most magical feeling I have ever experienced in my life.
“Are you about ready?” Wesley asks. I lift my head just as he walks into the bedroom. “I guess not.”
He smiles, his eyes raking over my breasts and stomach.
“I can’t find anything to wear.”
“What about those shorts you wore the other day?”
I look at the pile behind me, then back at him.
“I can’t. They don’t fit anymore. Nothing fits me anymore.” I take a seat on the side of the bed, completely drained from trying on clothes for the last thirty minutes. “My bras don’t even fit.” I lie back and rest my hands over my full, achy breasts.
“Do you want to go shopping?”
“When have I ever wanted to go shopping?” I ask.
He laughs as he lies down next to me. Taking my hand, he lifts it to his mouth and kisses my fingers, making my stomach melt.
“We could just stay home,” he suggests, sucking my ring finger into his mouth.
I laugh and tug my hand from his grasp.
“We can’t miss the Fourth of July at my parents’ house. I’ll just go see if I can’t find a dress or something,” I say. I yawn, covering my mouth.
His eyes fill with concern.
“I’ll go get you something to wear.”
“You’ll go?” I repeat.
He shrugs, turning to his side to face me. “Yeah, I’ll go. That way you can take a nap. I know you were up most of the night.”
“That’s because your son sleeps most of the day and is up all night using my bladder as a soccer goal.”