Eighteen

EIGHTEEN

Mia

"Okay, okay. I'm ready, and you finished that changing table. Now it's time for all of us to head outside."

"I really think Dad and I should stay inside and finish assembling the rest of this stuff for you, Mia."

Unwilling to negotiate any further, I stuck my bottom lip out and pouted. "Please, Alby. I know you want to help and are worried about me having to do it, but you guys are only here for a few hours before you have to head back home. I just want us to spend some time together, catching up."

My brother sighed, his shoulders falling, and I knew I'd won the battle. "If you want to help, you can carry out the tray of fruit and cheese I prepared."

"He'll get that while I grab the drinks," my dad said.

Feeling ecstatic to have convinced them to spend the next few hours being able to just enjoy each other's company, I linked my arm through my mom's and urged her toward the sliding doors that led out onto the deck.

My family arrived first thing this morning, bringing the remainder of the gifts I'd received at my baby shower weeks ago with them. Most of the items they brought were the big-ticket items, things that required some assembly. While I understood and appreciated their desire to help me put everything together, I didn't want the few hours we had together to be spent with my mom and I getting to visit with one another while my dad and Albert worked. We wound up compromising, with me agreeing to allow them to put the changing table together, since that was the biggest and heaviest piece of furniture.

But I refused to negotiate any further. I wanted these next few hours with them to be spent relaxing, eating, and enjoying each other. To ensure neither my dad nor my brother could sneak off and take on another project, I insisted on all of us going out onto the deck.

That may not have been the wisest idea, given the weather, but I still went ahead with it.

Lately, the heat and the hot summer sun had felt like an enemy. I'd gotten confirmation from Brock yesterday that it wasn't just the pregnancy making me feel that way, which was nice.

But since the weather was still just as hot today as it had been for days, and I was finding it challenging to contend with, I'd decided to throw on a bikini and do a bit of sunbathing. It would likely be the last time I got to wear one for at least a year, so I figured there was no reason not to take advantage.

No sooner had we all grabbed seats and a drink did my family choose to launch in with the questions.

"So, I guess I'll be the one to toss this out there," Albert started. "Has there been any contact from Todd?"

I shook my head. "Not a word."

"Nothing?" my mom pressed. I could tell by her tone that she was not only surprised by this news, but that she also had been dying to ask what Albert had.

I hated that I was going to have to disappoint her. "Nope."

"I don't understand," she murmured.

It wasn't that my mom was particularly attached to Todd or anything like that. She merely thought I deserved the best and that someone, anyone, would be lucky to be with me. There might have been a time when I believed that, or tried to, anyway. I thought I was a catch. Now, I couldn't say so. Because if someone happened to be interested in me, they'd have to be prepared to take on me and my child. I had a feeling that meant my prospects were limited.

"That makes two of us, Mom," I said. "But I'm not sitting around and dwelling on it. I'm doing my best to move on with my life, and I'm really happy right now."

"You mentioned that when you came home last month for the shower," she returned. "As far as I can tell, you seem happy."

"I am."

"Are you managing okay, though?" my dad asked.

Confused, I tipped my head to the side as my brows knit together. "What do you mean? Financially?"

He shook his head. "No. I mean, I guess if there's a problem there, I'd want to know, but I meant with the day-to-day stuff. Taking care of a house is a lot of work. Doing it on your own is one thing, but needing to do all of it when you're pregnant is something else entirely. I wish you were back home, so we could help you."

I sent a reassuring smile his way. "I appreciate that, Dad. But I'm doing okay. Believe it or not, I'm doing really well. It's only this week that things have started to get a little bit challenging, but I think that's mostly related to the unreasonably high temperatures."

"I've been worried about you, too," my mom added.

"What? Why? You and I talk on the phone almost every week, and you never indicated you were upset or concerned about anything."

She shrugged and sent a sympathetic look my way. "I've been trying to let you lead the discussions, because I don't want to risk being so far away and saying something that'll stress you in any way."

"There's nothing to be worried about," I promised. "Honestly, I call to give you updates on the baby, since that's the most important thing going on right now. And he or she is doing exceptionally well. Everything looks great at all of my doctor appointments."

"How's work going?" my brother asked.

"Great. I've had a lot of luck lately with several of the kids I've been working with," I told him. "It's always so rewarding when they experience those breakthroughs. Maybe it's the growing belly that's helping. I don't know, but I'm not going to complain. I'm sure it's only a matter of time before we're going through a more challenging spell. It ebbs and flows there all the time."

Albert smiled at me. "How have the kids at work been coping with the pregnancy news?"

Even if he had worries about what was happening here at home or in my personal life, I loved that Albert knew I needed things to talk about that went beyond the state of my personal life. Sure, I understood my family wanted to make sure I was okay, but I was pregnant. I wasn't dying. Regardless of the worries I had about it—some of which I could only assume they shared—I couldn't sit around dwelling on it nonstop. Luckily, my brother managed to give me a short reprieve from it all.

"The kids are so excited for me," I began. "And in some cases, it's really helped a couple of the children who were struggling to have conversations with me. I had one boy tell me about when his mom had his sister in her belly. So, it's been fun for me, because I hadn't even considered my pregnancy being something that would help the kids with speech."

"Whatever works, right?"

I grinned at him. "Exactly."

I had hoped to ask my brother about how work was going for him, but before I could do that, my dad said, "I really think I should bring out one of those boxes and work on assembling something else for the baby. Either the highchair or the stroller."

"Dad, no," I insisted, reaching for a handful of grapes. After popping one in my mouth, I said, "The baby isn't going to need those right away, and mom told me you guys are planning to be here for an extended stay after the baby arrives. If I don't have them taken care of before then, they're all yours."

My father had this need to always be doing something. He hated sitting around when he believed he could be useful and accomplish something. It wasn't that I didn't appreciate that part of who he was—I thought it was great for him to have that drive to work hard—but he needed to slow down and relax sometimes, too. Especially when he was only going to be here for a few hours.

"Is there anything else you need help with?" he pressed. "It doesn't have to be related to the baby. I thought I'd come down here and you'd have a list of things you'd need fixed around the house."

I shook my head. "No. The house has really been great. I haven't had any major issues since I've moved in."

My mom patted my dad on his forearm but kept her attention on me. "Your dad's been struggling lately."

A crease formed between my brows. "With what?"

"You," she clarified.

My eyes slid to the side and landed on my dad's face. I searched for answers to unasked questions, and while I didn't find any answers there, I did get the confirmation I needed to know my mom wasn't lying. He was distraught.

"What's going on?" I asked, my tone revealing the uncertainty I felt. Something wasn't right.

My dad couldn't continue to look at me, his emotions getting the better of him as he focused his attention on my backyard.

Fortunately, my mom offered up an explanation. "He's worried about you. We all are. Ever since you left home and came to Charter Oak for school, we've worried. It got worse for your dad after you graduated and decided to stay, and it didn't get any better when you decided to buy your home here, because you aren't a fifteen-minute drive away. We'd just barely tried to settle into the reality that you wouldn't be coming back when we learned that not only are you pregnant, but also that Todd just walked away from you and the baby. That's been especially difficult for your dad. He's scared that you're here all alone."

A painful ache settled in the center of my chest. The last thing I ever wanted to do was upset my family, to cause them any heartache. I realized the feelings they experienced when I decided to move here were normal, but I'd have been na?ve to think they wouldn't have been impacted by the pregnancy, especially knowing that Todd walked out on me.

"I'm sorry for how this is impacting you," I lamented. "I never meant to cause you any stress. But you should know that I'm incredibly happy here, and I'm not alone. I've got my job and the kids I help there, my coworkers who've become great friends, and my neighbors. I really am okay."

Anguish was etched into my father's features when he returned his attention to me. And when he spoke, that pain was apparent in every word. "But here, at home, you're doing it on your own. Your mom and I were together when you and your brother were born, and it was so challenging for the two of us. Yes, we intend to be here for you at the beginning after the baby arrives, but we'll have to go home at some point. That's when you'll be left to do it on your own, everything from looking after your baby to looking after your house. Who's going to take out the trash or mow the grass or shovel the snow?"

In an instant, Brock's face flashed in my mind, and before I could catch myself, I blurted, "I've got Brock."

Those three words were met with silence. I hadn't intended to tell them anything about Brock, because I didn't want them getting the wrong idea. But now that I'd mentioned him, I stood no hope of not offering an explanation.

"Who's Brock?" Albert questioned me.

I looked at him, sent a reassuring smile his way, and allowed my eyes to shift away from him and between my parents. Lifting my hand and pointing in the direction of Brock's house, I revealed, "He's my neighbor."

"Your neighbor?" my mom pressed.

I nodded.

"Just your neighbor?"

"Yes. Well, not exactly. He's become a really great friend," I confessed.

My father's body was alert, tension visible in his shoulders. His hands were gripping the arms of the chair so hard, his knuckles had turned white. "What does that mean?"

Warmth replaced the ache that had formed earlier in my chest and spread throughout my body, all the way to my fingertips and toes. "It means he's a great friend. He joins me for a walk several days a week after work, gets together for dinner occasionally with me, and invites me over to have lunch whenever his niece visits him. We even took a trip for the day to the beach with her back at the beginning of May when she finished school. Brock also carried the crib inside the day it was delivered and came over the next day to assemble it for me. He's watched my favorite movies with me, carried my groceries in from the car, and yesterday, not even ten minutes into me being outside mowing the lawn, he demanded I get out of the heat while he took care of the grass."

"And you're just friends?" Albert asked, his disbelief evident.

"Yes, I swear."

"How old is he?"

My lips twitched as I recalled the day I learned just how "old" Brock was when I met Izzy for the first time. "He's thirty-three."

"Has he expressed any interest in more than friendship?"

I shook my head. "No, not really. I mean, he's just a nice guy who understands the situation I'm in. I wouldn't expect him to want to get involved with me, especially given my situation, and that's okay. I'm happy having him in my life as he is."

I refused to tell them the truth about how I felt about him. Obviously, nothing I had told them was an outright lie, but I didn't need to tell them just how much I enjoyed Brock's company or how happy he made me every time he was around. I didn't want them to know that he'd set a standard I didn't think any potential future boyfriend could ever meet.

"Mia, there's nothing wrong with your situation," Albert remarked. "You're pregnant. And the baby's father walked away from you. That's on him, not you."

I nodded, pressing my lips together in an effort not to get emotional. "I know."

"Do you? Because you make it seem like it's impossible to believe a man would ever want to date you because of it," he retorted.

I didn't know what he wanted me to say.

What else was I supposed to think? Months ago, right after I moved in, Brock had expressed a hint of interest in me when he was about to invite me to dinner, but then Todd showed up. By the time Brock realized Todd was no longer in the picture and started to show some interest again, he learned about the pregnancy. And while there'd been some moments when I thought I felt a spark between us, those were few and far between. Not to mention, Brock never acted on them.

Before I could come up with a response, my dad demanded, "I want to meet him."

"What?"

"Your neighbor. Brock. I want to meet him before we leave."

Oh, God. Was Brock going to think I was over here telling my family about him in a way that made them think there was more than just friendship between us? "Why would you want to meet him?"

My dad raised a curious brow. "Do you think I'm wrong for wanting to shake the hand of the man who's clearly looking after my daughter when nobody else in her family can do it, when the man who got her pregnant won't?"

I swallowed hard. Then I shook my head. "We'll walk over there before you guys leave. Can we talk about something else for now?" I turned my attention to Albert, my eyes pleading with his. "How's work been for you?"

He caught on, understood what I needed, and smiled. "Busy as ever. I met someone."

My eyes widened in surprise, and I begged, "Tell me more."

Albert chuckled. Then he sat back and told me more.

The conversation with my family shifted away from Brock, my pregnancy, and my dad's struggle with being so far away from me.

But before I knew it, we had to wrap things up, because they needed to get back on the road to head home. We went back inside, and I threw a dress on over my swimsuit, so I could walk outside with them.

I'd hoped they'd head to the car and forget about Brock, but my dad marched right past the driver's side door and toward Brock's house.