Chapter 15

Amber

I wake up the next morning feeling rested and better than I've felt in a long time. After a shower, I head to the kitchen and rummage through my mom's tea bags. I'm not normally a tea drinker, but it kind of sounds good this morning. It's also low in caffeine, so that's a plus. I try a vanilla caramel tea and add some honey to sweeten it. "Good morning, Sweetheart." My mother pads into the kitchen in her bathrobe that she's had for a hundred years. "You're drinking tea? What is this world coming to?"

I smile, despite myself. "It's actually pretty good."

"Of course it's good. I've been telling you that for years."

"There's more water in the kettle," I point out.

"Maybe I'll finally make a tea drinker out of one of my girls."

I take another sip of tea, thankful it's not turning my stomach. "I wouldn't bet on it. As soon as I'm no longer pregnant, I'm going back to coffee."

"You sure about that?" she asks as she sits across from me.

I pause mid-sip. "What?"

"You probably won't be drinking a lot of caffeine after the baby comes, either."

"Why not?" I ask.

"Well, that depends. Are you planning on breastfeeding?"

I stare at her and slowly shake my head. "I don't know. I haven't even thought about it, which I realize is dumb," I add, berating myself. How have I not thought about this?

A hand covers mine. "Amber, Sweetheart, you are way too hard on yourself. You'll figure it out. You have plenty of time to make that decision, and you might even change your mind anyway." She takes another sip of tea. It's quiet for a few minutes, and I'm unsure what to say. "Rico brought you home last night," she says, breaking the silence.

"He did." I don't give her anything more than that, mostly because I don't have anything to add. I take one last sip of tea. "I've got to get ready for class. Thanks for letting me have some of your coveted tea."

"Of course. You're welcome to anything in this house, Amber; you know that." I kiss the top of her head as I drop my cup in the dishwasher. "I love you, Daughter of mine. You know that too, right?"

I stop at the entryway to the living room. "I know, Mom."

"And that hasn't changed just because you're pregnant."

"I know," I say softly.

"Do you?" she asks pointedly. "Because I feel like you've been avoiding me since the night you told me you were pregnant."

Guilt sluices through me. "I'm sorry."

She studies my face for a moment, and I will myself not to shift under her scrutiny. She sees too much; she always has. "One day soon," she begins softly. "You're going to hold your precious child in your arms, and you're going to realize that there's not much you won't do for that child. And that feeling only increases as they grow and develop. You'll also realize that there is nothing they could do to make you stop loving them, even when they think they have."

I stand there for a minute as emotions flow through me. "Do you," I pause and swallow before straightening. "Do you want to go shopping with me sometime...for the baby?"

"Yes! When?"

"Wow, somebody's anxious," I say with a smirk.

"This is my first grandbaby, Amber Nicole."

I raise my hands in surrender. "Got it. Let me look at my schedule and figure out when I have some free time."

"That won't be anytime soon, but I'll try to be patient." She gives me her best "mom" look. "I worry about you. I mean, I always worry about my girls; but lately, you've been working so hard on top of classes and..." Her voice trails off.

"And I've been distant," I say so she doesn't have to.

She nods. "You've pulled away."

Guilt smites me once again. "I'm sorry, Mom. It's not you. I couldn't..." I pause. I glance at my watch. "I really have to go, or I'm going to be late." I walk back over to her. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, Baby."

I hurry back to my room and throw on a pair of leggings because I can stretch them over my baby bump and throw on an oversized sweater. Well, it used to be oversized; not so much anymore. I throw my hair into a messy updo, add earrings, and grab my bag. "Bye, Mom," I call out as I pass.

"Bye, Sweetheart."

I head out to my car and throw my bag in the backseat before climbing into the driver's seat. "I'm going to be so late," I mutter as I turn the key. Nothing happens. "Ugh." I take the key out and wait a minute. "Please start; please start." I put in the key and try again and breathe a sigh of relief when it starts.

I barely make it to my first class on time. Somehow, I stay awake and alert for all my classes. On Thursdays, I have a three-hour break before my shift starts at the library, but I head there anyway. I stop by the college store before I get to the library and head inside. I leave with a newly purchased planner, notebook, and a pack of colorful pens. At the library, I find a quiet table in the back and set out my new planner, notebook, and pens. "Okay. Let's do this." It's way past time I got my life together. I've been living life by the seat of my pants, just dealing with the next thing as it comes along. It's not working. It's time for me to grow up and be responsible. I write down every one of my appointments, things I need to schedule for the baby, classwork assignments, test dates from all my syllabuses, my work shifts, and more.

"Amber, what are you doing back here?" I look up in surprise.

"Hi, Mrs. Randolph, I was just doing some organizing. Am I late?" I quickly glance at my phone to make sure I'm not late. My alarm didn't go off, but maybe I forgot to start it.

"No, you have fifteen minutes. You just surprised me."

"I'll be up soon."

"See that you are." She wanders off, and I get back to work. When my alarm rings, I pack up. I have five minutes before I have to clock in. I take a deep breath. I feel like maybe for the first time in my life, I'm getting myself together. I throw my backpack over my shoulder and head up to the front of the library. I step behind the counter and barely drop my backpack in the seat when someone calls my name.

"Ambs, my Girl, where have you been?"

I turn around. "Hey Cal."

"Where have you been?" he asks again.

"Uh, right here."

"No, you haven't. I was here at one, and you weren't here," he argues.

I sit down behind the computer. "Well, that's because I don't start until two on Thursday afternoons."

"Since when?"

I don't even bother looking at him. "Since always."

"Babe, you got to tell me these things."

"Actually, I really don't. We're not dating, Cal."

"But we could be," he argues.

"But we're not," I say firmly.

"We may not be dating officially, but you're still my girl."

I shake my head, not even bothering to look up. "You do realize to be your girl we have to be dating, right? And I just said we're not dating."

"Eh, semantics."

I shake my head but don't say anything. I figure if I ignore him, he'll eventually leave me alone. At least a girl can pray. He talks for several more minutes before he finally takes his leave. I get back to work. My stomach cramps later on, and I berate myself for not eating. I got so carried away with scheduling that I forgot to eat. I make it through the afternoon and evening and only have one hour left of my shift when Cal comes back in. I groan out loud as he approaches the desk. "Twice in one day, Cal?"

He grins. "I had to come see my girl."

"Not your girl," I respond automatically as I stand up to pick up the papers off the printer.

"What is that?"

The question stops me in my tracks not because of the question itself but the way in which he asked. His gaze is on my stomach, and I fight the urge to cross my arms over my chest protectively. "My baby," I say with false bravado.

"You're pregnant?" His words are harsh.

"Yes."

"By whom?"

My head jerks up. "That is none of your business."

"How could you do that to me?"

I stare at him in exasperation. "Cal, for the thousandth time. We are not dating."

"Unbelievable."

He storms off, and I watch him go. I glance at the clock, willing it to move faster. I'm exhausted and ready for this night to be over. Finally, we close for the night. I follow Mrs. Randolph to her car, like I do every night. I'm not really sure what I would do if somebody actually was out here waiting for us, but it makes me feel better to make sure she gets to her car safely. Only, tonight when we step outside, somebody is waiting for us. I see somebody step out of the shadows and nearly scream until I recognize his face. "Cal! What are you doing?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

"It's not polite to hang out in the dark and then jump out at somebody, Young Man. Next time, I'm going to hit you with my purse."

I would laugh at Mrs. Randolph's words, but my heart is trying to recover from nearly stopping. "We can keep walking," I say to Mrs. Randolph.

"I want to talk to you, Amber," Cal says, walking next to us.

"Okay. Talk."

"I mean not right here. Can we go somewhere to talk?"

"No. I'm going home after I walk Mrs. Randolph to her car."

"That's perfect. I'll follow you home, and we can talk there."

I ignore him as we finish the walk to Mrs. Randolph's car. "Want me to hit him with my purse?" she asks again rather loudly.

"I can hear you," Cal complains.

"Good. You were supposed to," she says before turning to me. "Want me to send him on his way?"

"Still can hear you," Cal mutters.

"Thanks, but I've got it," I tell her. After she's in her car, I turn and walk towards my car.

"Come on, Amber. I just want to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about, Cal."

"I decided it's okay that you're pregnant."

I don't even bother dignifying that comment with a response. I toss my bag in the backseat and climb into the driver's seat. I try to close my door, but he stops it with his big hand. I put the key in the ignition and try to start the engine. It doesn't even turn over. No. I try again. And again. Suddenly, Cal is leaning over me. "Yo, Babe, I think your battery is dead."

"Cal, if you don't back up and get out of my personal space, I will kick you so hard, you won't be able to walk for a week." I've had it!

He has the audacity to laugh. "Violence. I love it." I grit my teeth and close my eyes as I lean against the head rest. Frustrated tears wet the back of my eyelids, but I refuse to let them fall. "Come on, I'll give you a ride home."

"No," I say automatically.

"Come on, Babe. Stop being stubborn."

Whatever patience I had left seeps out.