Baby & Bump (The This & That Series) (21 page)

I didn’t have the heart to tell Martha that Fletcher met Marisol after he’d met me, and that the minute he saw her, he was sunk like the Titanic. She was too beautiful and too charming
not
to date. Any resistance would have been futile.

“I hate her,” Martha said in a wobbly voice.

I slid my arm around her small shoulders and pulled her to my side. “Shhh. Now don’t cry. It’s okay.” I smoothed down her hair and closed my eyes. Holding Martha felt so natural to me. How in the world could Marisol not like this kid? “Listen, I know you and Marisol don’t see eye to eye. And I understand why. Sometimes Marisol is sort of difficult to get along with.”

Martha sniffled. “You got that right.”

I rested my chin on her head. “But underneath it all, there is a hilarious and funny person who has been my friend for so many years I’ve lost count. She’ll go to bat for me, no matter what it’s for, and she’ll win. Every time. You don’t find that kind of loyalty in just any friend, you know.”

Martha nodded, her hair tickling my nose.

“So even though on the outside Marisol is cranky, just remember that on the inside there is a person who will fight for the people she loves. No matter what. Maybe remembering that will help you to hate her less when she ignores you.” Without thinking, I pressed a kiss to the top of Martha’s head. “Okay, kiddo?”

A woman’s voice rang out, tearing the moment in two. “Lexie Baump?”

I looked up at the nurse smiling at me. “I have to go. It was sure nice to see you.”

“You, too.” She forced a smile.

“You know what?” I dug in my purse, and yanked out a business card. “Here’s my cell number. If you ever need some advice on how to navigate your way around Marisol, give me a call.”

Her face lit up as she took the card. “Thanks!”

Hiking my purse up on my shoulder, I waddled towards the nurse. “I’m ready now,” I told her, squeezing past her into the back of the office.

It was then that I realized Fletcher had been standing behind the receptionist across the room. His arms were folded across his chest, and a sad frown
on his handsome face. God knew how long he’d been standing there, but I didn’t care. I’d meant everything I’d said.

Chapter Nineteen

              I looked at the tiny pocket sized calendar resting on my passenger seat and released a colossal sigh. I was thirty-two weeks pregnant today, and it was time.

No, my water hadn’t broken….

It was time for me to lay my grievances with my mother aside. Time for me to apologize to her for not speaking to her in a month. Time to forgive her for hurting me. And time for me to accept my mother, flaws and all.

             
The truth was, I was nesting.

My apartment had been scrubbed from top to bottom. Every article of clothing I owned, for myself
and
for my baby, had been washed, ironed, and folded to perfection. I’d assembled every piece of baby equipment and polished them until they gleamed. I’d even rented a carpet steamer, which I’d promptly used to sanitize my floors
and
drapes.

All that cleaning, and ye
t something still felt incomplete. I needed my mom. I
wanted
my mom. It was the same feeling I got every single time I got the flu. It didn’t matter what age I was, when I was lying on my bed with a fever and the chills, I wanted my mom. Now I was about to have a baby. What woman didn’t want her mother when she was thirty-two weeks pregnant and on the verge of becoming a parent herself?

             
Which is why I was parked in her driveway on a Saturday afternoon.

I hadn’t called first. Mostly because I didn’t know what to say, and because I was
pretty sure my mother would cry.

I could never understand her when she cried over the phone
.

Besides, her thirty-third, and final, message had left things open for my eventual return:

             
“Hi, Alexandria, it’s your mother. Listen, I know you think you’re going to be mad at me forever, and maybe you’re right. But I want you to know that the moment you look at your baby, you’ll understand why I do the crazy things I do. Because the love and protectiveness that a mother feels for her child is so overwhelming, it takes your breath away. That’s why I keep trying to set you up. Because I would do anything to protect you from feeling overwhelmed and alone. That’s all I’m trying to do. I mean, sure. I guess I went about doing it the wrong way, so sue me. But still. I only did it because I love you—and my grandchild—so much. I won’t call anymore. I know I’m annoying you. But you know where I live, and the door’s always open. Come see me when you’re ready.”

             
I looked at my mother’s Buick in the carport. I was ready.

I hoisted myself out of my driver’s seat and waddled up to the front door. This was it. Turning the knob, I pushed the door open a few inches. She never locked her doors. I’d been warning her how dangerous that was for years, but she’d always come back with,
Spokane’s just fine! I
grew up
here, for Pete’s sake!

I hesitated in the doorway. I’d always just walked right in in the past, but things felt different now. Too much had transpired between us.

“Mom?” I called out softly.

There was no answer. Not that I was surprised. You couldn’t have your house lined in
stuffed dolls and not expect to have some soundproofing. I opened the door all the way. “Hey, Ma! It’s Lex. Can we talk?”

My words sounded flat against the padding of all the Cabbage Patch dolls.

There was a dull thumping sound that came from the back of the house. She must be in the laundry room folding clothes. Her dryer had been purchased brand new by my father in 1988, and for as long as I could remember, the damned thing clunked like there was a clog lodged in the vent.

Muttering a curse word
, I sidestepped a trio of dolls who watched me with painted on eyes. This place creeped me out more and more every time visited. It was going to be a struggle to bring my baby here for visits without wanting to sprinkle him or her with holy water afterward.

The banging sound stopped, and
I halted. “Hello?”

I heard a muffled sound that could only be described as a wail.

My blood ran cold, and I strode through the living room. “Mom?”

It would figure
that after all this time giving her the silent treatment, I would walk in to find her crumpled on the floor after a heart attack. How many times had Corbin and I discussed buying her one of those Life Alert things?

The bumping started again, increasing in volume and pace, and I took off in a run down
the hallway. Holy hell, she was having a
seizure
! “Mom!” I bellowed, charging past the empty laundry room. “Mooom!?”

A groan rang out. A
deep
groan.

What the what?

I pushed her bedroom door open and wished instantly I hadn’t. There was too much flesh and too much movement to process. Pastor Irm’s black shirt and collar were tangled with my mother’s lavender teddy bear sweatshirt on the carpeted floor. And my mother’s giant beige bra with five hooks hung from the doorknob.

I heard my mother giggle—
giggle,
for crying out loud! I hadn’t heard her giggle in at least twenty years.

A
nd then I heard myself scream an obscenity that rhymed with “Holy trucking pit!”

Pastor Irm. And my mother. Getting their freak on.

Amongst the flesh, I saw two eyes pop open from behind thick pink tinted glasses. “ALEXANDRIA?”

I stood frozen. Couldn’t move. Wanted t
o but simply couldn’t.

Pastor Irm looked over his bare shoulder. “Patsy, what’s wrong?
I… oh, dear.”

My mother’s pale white legs started to kick on either side of the pastor. “GET OUT!”

My feet finally unglued themselves from the floor, and I ran face first into the doorjamb when I whirled around.

My mother’s
screams rang in my ears as I ran—nay,
sprinted
—back down the hall, and shoved my way through the front door. The sunlight assaulted my eyes as I tripped on the curb and dove across the yard.

“
Keys, keys, keys,” I muttered to myself, fumbling in the pockets of my hoodie. My hands were shaking, and I could hear the sound of Irm’s groan echoing in my head over and over again. I shuddered as I yanked the keys out and tried unsuccessfully to press the unlock button. “Oh, son of a… I’ve got to get out of here.”

Had they been doing the nasty for long? I racked my brain. How long had my mother and Pastor Irm been close friends? Ten years? Maybe more. Had they been having sex this whole time?
I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to go back to my mother’s house, let alone eat dinner there again.

I dropped my keys on the driveway and raked a hand through my hair. Th
ey’d been bouncing around on my
father’s
bed. Where else in the house had they done it? The kitchen? The dining room? Mother of all things beautiful, in front of all those dolls? It was enough to make me sick.

The screen door swung open and slapped against the house. “Alexandria, wait!”

I looked up and saw my mother. Her eyes were rimmed with red, and she’d pulled on her pink bathrobe. She held out her hands, and made a choking sound. “I’m sorry. I never meant for you to, I just, I’m so sorry.”

My
shock quickly morphed into anger. She’d been treating me like I was Satan’s Mistress ever since I announced I was pregnant. Again, and again, and again my mother had made me feel like I was as horrible as someone sitting in a jail cell for murder.

And the whole time she’d been boinking Pastor Irm.

My mother started to come down the front steps towards me, but I put out my hands to stop her. “Don’t come any closer to me.”

My voice was shaking, but I took a deep breath and went on. No point in chickening out now. Not after what I’d just seen. “You’ve been so cruel to me.
So
cruel. And I came here prepared to apologize to you, just so that I could have you back in my life again. So that I could share this amazing experience with you. I’ve missed you, Mom. My whole apartment is ready for this baby, and the only thing that’s missing is the grandma. I don’t want to do this without you.”

She didn’t say anything. She just stood there crying.

I put my hands on my giant stomach. “Do you understand how much you’ve missed? You’ve missed most of this pregnancy because you’ve been so focused on marrying me off. You’ve missed experiences that I should have been able to share with my mother, because you were so focused on what a disappointment I am, or how much people are going to judge you because your pathetic daughter got knocked up. You treated me like I was some sort of slut.”

My mother’s hand went to her chest. “Lexie, I—”

“Shut up,” I snapped. “You don’t get to talk anymore. You don’t get to decide what is acceptable or appropriate anymore. You don’t get to judge me anymore. I just caught you in the act with your
pastor
. Who does that? What kind of a person treats their child like garbage, when they’re doing the very same thing?”

I scooped the keys off of the driveway and unlocked my ca
r. I knew I was going too far, but like everything else lately, I couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t rein it in. The hormones were a’ragin, and I had no control. “I’m so disappointed in you, Mom.
So
disappointed. Maybe it was best we weren’t speaking, because I’m not sure I want you around my baby, anyway.”

My mother
covered her mouth, her shoulders bouncing. I slammed my car door, and fired up the engine. And as I peeled out of the driveway and sped away from the house, I realized that I was crying, too.

This was not how I’d seen my day going.

Chapter Twenty

             
“Mommy, I have to peeeeeeeee!”

             
Candace rolled her eyes at me and we followed her daughter, Ellie, through the thick crowd. Laughing, I pressed a hand to my back. “Slow down,” I huffed. “Do all four year olds have to go to the bathroom this often?”

             
In the hour I’d been sitting with Candace, Brian, and their kids at the
My Little Pony
LIVE!
concert, we’d made three trips to the restroom, and it was only intermission. Given the saccharine sweet music played at ear-damaging decibels, and an entire convention center filled with preschool-aged children and their tired parents, my head hurt as much as my puffy feet did. I was starting to question whether my own child would
ever
need to see a concert and was leaning heavily towards no.

             
“Unfortunately, yes.” Candace stepped around a little boy who was splayed on the floor, crying. His mother looked like she wanted to cry, too. “You should have seen the kids when we went to see
Disney on Ice
last year. Ellie had a total meltdown and threw up on the guy in front of us.”

             
Snorting, I stumbled when the little boy started to flail. “Whoops, sorry.” I told his mother, before scrambling to catch up with my cousin at the restroom line. “Slow down. Wait for me.”

             
She glanced over her shoulder at me. “You’re moving pretty slow these days, Lex.”

             
“Thanks for pointing it out.” I scanned the line. It was at least ten people long, and that didn’t include the people waiting
inside
the bathrooms. “Nice. I’ll deliver this kid before I get to a toilet.” A skinny woman behind us grimaced, and I caught a glimpse of it in the corner of my eye. “Sorry. Just kidding.”

             
I’d only come here to get out of my apartment. Every time I was alone, memories of seeing my mother’s ‘dance of passion’ a few days earlier came rushing back to me. And when I started to get depressed about the absence of my mother in my life, it reminded me of the fact that I’d not seen or spoken to Fletcher in more weeks than I cared to mention.

That’s usually when the tears started, and the boxes of individually wrapped snack brownies came out.
Even my maternity clothes were starting to feel too small.

             
“So.” Candace looked at me for a few seconds. “My mom called me the other day.”

             
“Oh, yeah? How’s Aunt Dory doing?” I chewed my thumbnail and danced in place a little. The baby was pressing against my bladder, and I was about two minutes from bursting.

             
“She said that you and your mom had another argument,” she said.

             
I avoided my cousin’s eyes. The last thing I wanted to do was tell that I walked in on my mother screwing Pastor Irm. If I told, my Aunt Dory—and the rest of my family—would know within the hour. “Yeah, we did.”

             
“Did she try to fix you up again?”

             
“No.”

“Well, what was it about?”
Candace was fishing for more information, but I wasn’t giving in.

First off,
talking about it would just make those horrifying moments come alive inside of my head again. There wasn’t enough therapy in the world to get over seeing Pastor Irm’s bare butt in my mother’s dim bedroom. And second, no matter how much my mother did to hurt me, I still felt protective of her. Aunt Dory would have a heyday with this information, and it would kill my mother to find out that everyone knew she wasn’t the chaste widow anymore.

             
I forced a smile. “Just typical stuff. You know my mom.”

             
“Yeah.” The line between her eyebrows told me she was concerned. “Hey, have you heard from Marisol lately?”

             
Heaviness formed in my chest. Marisol had been quiet at work lately, and most of our conversations had consisted of work details only. What event we had coming up, who was in charge of making the quiche, and which one of us was going to make a run to the restaurant supply store. There had been times when I’d wanted to ask her if she needed to talk. But I’d swallowed back every question. I didn’t want to hear about Fletcher. I didn’t want to know if they’d slept together, or if they were having problems. It was all too much to handle. Too much to hear.

             
“Um, no.” I moved forward with the line. “She’s been pretty quiet, and keeping herself busy lately.”

             
Candace frowned. “I wonder if she and Fletcher are doing all right?”

             
“I hope so.”

And it was true. I was practically ready to pop out a baby, and I looked more like Opie than a lingerie model on a
good
day. Marisol was the right choice for Fletcher.

             
“Fletcher seems distracted.” Candace danced in place holding Ellie’s hands. “He came over for the game the other day and barely knew who was playing. When Brian asked what was wrong, he said he had a lot on his mind. Then he did something sort of weird.”

             
I pretended to be enthralled with Ellie’s hair bow. I didn’t want to hear about anything that Fletcher did, because I would probably turn it into something to think about and obsess over for days.

             
“Mommy, pick me up!” Ellie held out her hands. “Mommy! Pick me up!”

             
Candace swung her daughter onto her hip, and leaned in close to me. “He started asking about
you
.”

             
The baby sucker punched me in the bladder and I leaned forward. “Seriously, is this line moving at all? Oh Lord, I have to pee.”

             
The skinny woman behind us groaned. “We
all
do, lady.”

             
“Well, you’re not eight months pregnant, are you?” I snapped.

             
Candace put her hand on my shoulder. “Did you hear what I said? Fletcher was probing Brian for details about you.”

             
I waved a hand, and ignored the swirling feeling I felt in my chest. “Whatever. He probably wanted to check up on my pregnancy.”

              “I don’t think so.” Candace shook her head. “I think there’s something you’re not telling me.”

             
“Nope. You know all.” Biting my lip, I silently asked God to empty the bathroom. If we kept talking about Fletcher, I was definitely going to wet my pants.

             
“Come on, Lex, things between the three of us girls have weird for weeks,” Candace said. “And now Fletcher spends all of his time with Brian asking about
you
?”

I pressed my lips together and avo
ided her eyes.

S
he groaned and went on. “What’s Lexie’s ex husband like? Why did Lexie leave dinner the other night? What was Lexie like in college? What are Lexie’s hobbies?”

             
“I like piña coladas and getting caught in the rain.” Laughing at my own joke, I moved forward with the line.

             
“Come on.” She snorted. “You have to admit it, it’s odd. And oh, holy hell. Speak of the devil.”

             
“What?” I followed her line of sight and my eyes landed smack dab on Fletcher. He was walking hand in hand with a frowning Martha. In an instant, I broke out in a sweat. “Oh, crap, crap, crap!”

             
Candace stared at me. “What is wrong with you?”

I turned so my back was pointed at Fletcher. “Screw me running.”

“Not now,” she hissed. Then she waved. “Hey, Fletcher. Over here!”
              I looked over my shoulder. Martha spotted me and made a beeline towards us. “Lexie!” She cried happily, putting out her arms.

             
“Hi, Martha.” She fell against me for a hug. This kid fit against me as much like a puzzle piece as her dad did.

             
Stop thinking like that.

             
Fletcher stopped walking a foot or two away from us. When he spoke, his eyes stayed locked on mine. “Hi guys. Fancy meeting you here.”

             
Candace looked between Fletcher and me a few times. “What brings you to the
My Little Pony
LIVE!
concert?”

             
Martha pulled away from me and wrinkled up her nose. “My dad thinks I’m five years old.”

             
Fletcher put a hand on the top of his daughter’s head. “I bought the tickets on a coupon website and thought she’d like it.”

             
“I’m not a baby anymore, Dad.” Martha wriggled out from under his hand.

             
He offered us a shrug. “She asked for a pony doll a year ago. I didn’t realize the concert would be so passé.”

             
My heart swelled. Fletcher looked so cute when he was sheepish. Especially when he was sheepish in a vintage plaid shirt and old Levis with holes in the knee. He was the only doctor in town who looked like he moonlighted in an auto garage.

             
“What were you thinking, Dad?” I teased, letting my guard down.

             
Fletcher’s eyes lit up, and a spark jolted between us. “I was trying to impress her. Guess it fell flat.”

             
I opened my mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again, but nothing came out. There was so much I wanted to say to Fletcher. Words upon words stacked up on the tip of my tongue, but they all sat there, unmoving.

I could feel Candace’s
gaze on the side of my face. Finally one sentence came out. “You switched me to a different doctor.”

             
Fletcher nodded, squaring his shoulders. “Thought it was best.”

             
I shook my head. “I don’t want Javornik. I want you.”

             
Fletcher gulped, making his adam’s apple bob. “I thought it would help.”

             
Candace’s head popped up between us. “Why would it help? Why was it best? What’s going on?”

             
“Mommy, the line is moving.” Ellie pointing a chubby finger.

             
“Go on, Lex, you can go first.” Candace nudged me. “You have to pee really bad.”

             
“No, just go without me.” I didn’t even look at her. I knew I was being rude, but that stupid tractor beam thing was happening with Fletcher again. I hated it. And loved it. But mostly hated it.

             
She looked down at Martha and held out her hand. “What about you, Martha? Do you need to go?”

             
“Yes, please.” She looked up at Fletcher. “Wait here, ‘kay?”

             
He finally looked away from me. “Got it. Right here. Thanks, Candace.”

             
My cousin narrowed her eyes at Fletcher. “Uh huh. It seems as though you two need to talk.”

             
“Right. I suppose so.” His cheeks reddened.

             
“Oh, good Lord, would you guys make up your mind?” The woman behind us growled. “Some of us really have to go!”

             
I swung around. “Then get in there, you impatient cow!”

             
“Whoa.” Fletcher took me by the elbow. “Please excuse us.”

             
I let him lead me across the palatial building, stopping at a row of windows that overlooked the Spokane River. I pulled my arm away.

             
“Feeling a little touchy lately?” he asked.

             
I sighed. “I guess.”

             
“You know, a lot of women will get a hormone surge in the last trimester, and it can make them—”

             
“Can you just be Fletcher right now, and not Dr. Know It All?” I snapped.

             
He stifled a laugh. “Okay.”

             
I pressed a hand to my forehead. It was really hot in this place. Or maybe I was just a beached whale and I got overheated every time I
moved
. “I’m sorry. I just haven’t seen you, or spoken to you, in so long. And things are just so weird between us. And between Marisol and me, and aw, hell. I don’t know.”

             
“I get it.” Fletcher’s mouth tugged downward. “It’s been rough for me, too. I haven’t seen Marisol lately. I’ve just been doing some thinking. Sorting things out.”