Chapter 10

Rico

I turn back to my mom, who's waiting expectantly. "She's just a friend," I reiterate. At her raised eyebrows, I continue. "Who's pregnant."

She nods. "I thought as much when she ran for the bathroom. I feel terrible. It's the garlic bread. Garlic is the worst when you're pregnant." She takes the tray of fresh garlic bread and drops them right into the trash.

"What are you doing?" I ask, horrified.

She turns back to me. "The smell is going to continue to make her sick." She pulls up the bag. "You're going to take it out back, and I'm going to try to get the smell out of the house or when she wakes up, it will be a repeat performance.

I frown. "She already threw up."

My mother shakes her head. "Oh Son, you have so much to learn."

I cross my arms across my chest, not in the mood. "Mom."

She waves me towards the kitchen table. "Get a plate of food, and we'll eat."

"But Amber..."

"From what I could see, your girl is exhausted. If she's getting a few minutes of sleep, let her. We'll be here when she wakes up."

"She's not my girl," I mutter, but it seems like it's a losing battle. My mom and sister are both stubborn as all get-out when they get something in their heads. I fill a plate for both my mom and me and carry them over to the table.

"Thank you, Honey," she says as she settles into the chair across from me.

"Thanks for making dinner." I head back into the living room just to make sure Amber's still asleep. Satisfied, I sit at the table with my mom.

"Is she still asleep?" I nod, even though I know she already knows. I dig in, starving after my practice. "Some women have morning sickness every moment of every day and throw up all day long," she says after a little bit.

I finish chewing. "That's terrible."

She nods. "It really is for some women."

"Was it like that for you?"

"With Peyton, it was. But it was better with you."

"How long does it last?" I ask.

"Depends. Every woman is different. For some women, it doesn't let up until they deliver the baby."

"Nine months? Why get pregnant then?" My mom gives me a look, and I regret my question. "Okay, that was dumb."

"Yes, it was. Morning sickness can really be awful, but having a baby is no small thing. There's a lot of really difficult parts to it, but I'll tell you something my mother, your grandmother, told me. She always told me, ‘Most women have at least one baby, and almost all women choose to go back for more'."

"Yeah," I reluctantly agree.

"Now, what's her story?"

I sit back in my chair. "She's Brielle's younger sister."

"Brielle is Aiden's wife, right?"

I nod. "Yeah. I've run into her a few times here and there. She's pregnant and..." I pause a moment, wondering how much to share.

My mom puts her hand over mine. "You don't have to give me all the details. How far along is she?"

"I have no idea."

She gives me a considering look. "Is it yours?"

I choke on the water I just swallowed. "Good grief, Mom."

"What? You seem to really care about her. I just thought—"

"No," I interrupt. "It's not mine." She doesn't ask anything more, and I feel bad.

"He's a jerk," I throw out. Her eyes widen, and I take a breath. "Doesn't want anything to do with her or the baby. Told her to get rid of it." My anger rises all over again.

"Rico!" She puts her hand on mine. "That's terrible." Tears fill her eyes, and I know she understands in a way I never could. She raised two little kids on her own after her husband walked out on her. If anybody could understand a little of what Amber is going through, it would be my mom. I don't even remember the scumbag and certainly don't call him my dad.

"She just needs some extra help," I say softly, and my mom nods, wiping at her eyes. I feel bad making her cry.

"You always had a soft spot for hurting things." She pats my hand and stands up. "I'm making her some chicken broth."

I frown. "Just broth? There's like nothing in there?"

"Do you still have those saltine crackers I brought you last time you were sick?"

I nod. "They've been in my pantry since last winter."

"Can you grab them please?"

Just as I pick up the box, I hear a sound. I turn around and see Amber running for the bathroom. I give her a moment before I knock on the bathroom door softly. "Amber, you okay?"

She opens the door a few minutes later, looking more pale than ever. "My mom made you some chicken broth. Will you try it?" I can tell she's going to decline my offer, so I play dirty. "She's going to feel bad if you don't."

Her eyes meet mine. "Okay."

I'm relieved. "Come on. I'll help you get some." I lead her into the kitchen. "Hey, Mom, Amber's going to try some of that broth."

My mother turns from the stove and smiles at Amber. "Oh good. I didn't season it at all; I kept it perfectly plain. And Rico has crackers for you." She dishes up a bowl, and I snag it from her before Amber can. I don't know why; I just do. I pull her chair out and wait until she's settled before I place the hot broth in front of her and a few of the crackers. I go to sit across from her, but my mom slides into the seat instead, forcing me to sit next to Amber...not that I'm complaining. I try not to stare at her as she eats, but I can't help it. I soak in the details under the kitchen lights. Her face is so pale, her freckles stand out. She's lost so much weight, and she looks miserable. I get up to make myself a cup of coffee, just to give my hands something to do so I don't touch her. When I settle next to her again, I see she's eaten a few crackers and almost half the bowl of broth.

"That tastes really good, and it doesn't make me sick." Amber's words are directed at my mom, and my mom beams at her words.

"Good, Honey. That was what I ate during my pregnancy when I was so sick."

That seems to catch Amber's interest. She leans forward slightly. "You were sick?"

"Oh, sick doesn't even come close to what I was, especially in my first pregnancy."

Amber's eyes bounce to mine. "I have an older sister," I say quietly.

"Yes, I thought for sure I was going to die before I had my Peyton," my mother says with a laugh. "The only thing I could eat was chicken broth, saltine crackers, mashed potatoes, and room-temperature ginger ale."

"Mashed potatoes?" Amber asks, interested. "That does sound good." I make a mental note to track down mashed potatoes for her to try.

My mom nods. "Yes. I craved mashed potatoes like every single day. You can tell me to butt out, but are you taking your prenatals?"

"Mom," I warn, but Amber waves me off.

"It's fine. No," she says, sounding dejected. "They make me so sick."

"Hmmm." That's from my mom. "I was going to say, as long as you're taking prenatals and trying to just eat something, the baby will be okay. They need so little during this time; they're so tiny at this stage. But you do need to take a good prenatal but not one that's making you sick," she adds.

I'm already on it. I scroll through multiple listings on my phone. "Target."

Two heads turn in my direction. "What?" Amber asks.

"Target prenatal vitamins don't make women as sick," I explain. I lean towards her and show her my phone. I regret the action immediately. It puts her too close to me. I can smell her perfume, the shampoo in her hair, and the essence of... her . It's a heady combination. I leave my hand extended so she can read my phone, but I pull my body back. I'm pretty sure my mom gets what just happened because she stands to her feet with her plate in her hand and a big smile on her face. Amber finishes looking at my phone, and I pocket it. "Do you want any more to eat?"

She shakes her head. "No, I'm full. Thank you, Mrs. Garcia. That was really good."

My mother beams. "Of course, Dear. I'll put it in a container, so you can take it home with you."

"You don't have to," Amber tries.

"I insist," my mother says with a smile. She comes back with the container a moment later and hands it to Amber. "Was your mother sick when she was pregnant?"

A shadow crosses Amber's face, and I hate that she's lost her openness. I'm almost ready to say something to my mom when Amber answers. "I haven't really asked her," she says softly. My mother glances at me and then back at Amber before she takes a seat at the table with us again.

"Honey, is your mom okay with you being pregnant?" Her words are so soft and careful, but I recognize the steel beneath them, the steel of a woman who raised two kids as a single mom.

"Oh, yes," Amber says. She looks down at the table. "My mom's really great. I just..." I have the urge to put my hand on top of hers; I fist it so I don't. "I just haven't talked to her a lot about it. Not because of her, but because of me. I," she pauses. "I really messed up." Her words make me angry, but I keep my face calm. She doesn't seem to even really remember that I'm even here. She's staring at the table, glancing up at my mom from time to time. "The father of my baby wants nothing to do with me or the baby. I thought he loved me." Her voice breaks on her last words.

"Oh, Sweetheart." My mom reaches across the table and takes Amber's hand, and I can't sit here and watch and not do anything. I shove my chair back and stand to my feet, cursing myself when Amber's wide eyes meet mine.

"I need to go work out." I say the first thing that comes to my mind. My mom seems to get it; she just nods.

Amber stares at me. "Didn't you just come from practice?"

"Yes."

"And you still need to work out?"

"Yes." I should give her more than one-word answers, but I can't. Not right now. Not when I'm hanging on by a thread. I need to escape her, escape her heartbrokenness before I do something stupid.

"Aren't you the goalie?" she asks. I nod again even as I take a step towards the living room. "Don't you just stay in the net the entire time?"

A half-smile fills my face, even as I thank my lucky stars that none of my teammates are here to witness this. Sebastian would never let me live it down. "You ever been to a hockey game?" I ask on a hunch.

"No."

Curiosity has me opening my mouth before I think better of it. "Weren't you dating a hockey player?"

She shrugs. "He never wanted me to come to any of his games." I close my eyes a moment and fight the anger building. When I open my eyes, she's staring at me wide-eyed.

"Oh, my goodness. That's because he was with other women, wasn't it?" Her whispered words are like a knife to my chest.

"Yeah, Sweetheart." I couldn't stop the endearment if I tried. I don't think she even notices. She's too busy self-loathing.

"I am such an idiot."

Something fierce rises up inside me. "No, Amber." I move so I'm in her personal space and lower my face so we're eye to eye. "He is the idiot. He's the one who left you. You . You're the kind of girl most guys dream about having, and he chose to walk away from you. Believe me when I say, he is the idiot and a whole lot of other words that I can't say with my mom sitting here." I stand up, putting much needed space between us. "I'll be back." Without another word, I stride from the room, already cueing up my music because I need a hard workout.