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“Oh, I don’t know. Just thought I’d check. I remember when I was pregnant, I felt sick all the time.”
“What?” I swallow the lump in my throat. It’s one thing to keep things from your mom. It’s another to lie to her.
“Well, honey, you’re clearly pregnant. When were you going to tell me?”
“I don’t know… never.” I laugh. “I mean… it’s embarrassing.”
“Why? You’re bringing life into the world. We’re excited for you. We love you! We want to celebrate.”
“Well, thank you, but it’s embarrassing because the father is… not here, and because… I don’t know…” I burst into tears. Ugh, I can’t wait for these hormones to level out again. “I don’t know. I just… I don’t know. I’m sorry. I’m so emotional lately. It’s horrid.”
“It’s okay. It’s all part of the process. Who is he… the father?”
I stare blankly ahead, chewing on my bottom lip. It’s too early for this conversation. I love my mother, but I wonder if I could hang up and convince her this has all been a dream.
Gaslighting my mom first thing in the morning… wow! I’m really not going to be good at parenting. What will I teach my child? How to lie, steal, cheat? Maybe I’ll throw breaking and entering into the mix for fun. I can’t believe I’m giving Max a hard time.
“You don’t have to tell me, dear. Take your time. I’m just glad you’re not denying it anymore. You know I’m here to support you with whatever you need. Are you doing okay? You have enough to eat? I can make dinner tonight and bring it over to you.”
A warm dinner sounds wonderful, and one of Mom’s warm dishes sounds even better. She makes the best lasagna and even better homemade rolls. That and I’d bet it would give her a huge amount of purpose to do this for me, or at least that’s what I tell myself as I beg her for bread.
“Yeah. Maybe… you could make that—”
“Let me guess. You want lasagna and garlic rolls?”
My cheeks heat. It’s really nice when your mom still knows you so well, even after you’ve been a jerk, moved away, and kept secrets for nearly a year.
“We could put together the swing too. I have to get to that still.”
Her tone perks as she says, “Yes! I’d love that! Do you know what you’re having?”
“A girl.”
She squeals. “A name?”
“Nothing yet, but I have a list.”
“Oh, honey. I couldn’t be happier. We should have a shower for you. Your sisters would love that. We could throw something together next weekend and have it at the park, maybe. It’s finally starting to warm up.”
“Anything sounds nice,” I say, sighing with a bit of relief. At least part of the lie is over. My Mom knows about my pregnancy.
That said, I’m still hiding who the father is, and though there are a lot of six and a half foot men on Rugged Mountain, none of them look quite as brooding as Max. What if this baby doesn’t take after me? What if she doesn’t have blonde hair and blue eyes? What if she’s built like a biker with dark features and comes born with sleeves of tattoos?
My heart pounds at the thought of it all. She’d be beautiful, but everyone would know for sure that Max was her father, and then what?
I’m not even sure anymore why I didn’t tell him to begin with. I know deep down he’d be a good father, but his job scares the hell out of me. Every day I spent with him I wondered if it would be the last.
I don’t want that for my daughter. I don’t want her to fall in love with him, like I have, only to lose him someday. It’s best to keep the line severed, to never know, to keep him a mystery, because a mystery man can never hurt us.
Chapter Six
Max
I roll my neck in circles and climb off my bike, stalking into the general store without a plan in place. It’s not like me but sitting on this all night isn’t like me either. If I’d followed my instincts, I’d have kicked Collette’s door down too.
No more waiting.
She’s sliding on her jacket when I reach the front counter. I called earlier to see what time her shift ended. Noon, and now it’s eleven fifty-nine.
