Where We Call Home (Faircloud #2)

Chapter 5

Five

T oday was packed with doctor appointments and bloodwork. The visits were more frequent than usual because of my mom’s history while pregnant. Those issues have put me at higher risk.

My mom struggled to conceive, so when I came along, it was nothing short of a blessing. During her pregnancy, she was diagnosed with gestational diabetes and faced a slew of other challenges.

I was at a high risk of having the same. A diagnosis like that came with a lot—medications, injections, strict dietary changes. Because I was measuring larger than expected, my doctor added “keep a close eye” to the checklist. I was patiently waiting for the milestone to have that testing done to officially have my answer. The worry lingered, not because I doubted my ability to manage a new routine, but because of what it could mean for the baby’s health or the delivery itself.

Pregnancy could be terrifying.

At first, the idea of a tiny human growing inside me was unnerving. Now, I’d bonded with her so deeply I couldn’t imagine not carrying her. The connection was overwhelming and I could only wonder how much stronger it would feel when she was actually here. I couldn’t wait to hold her, kiss her tiny cheeks, and watch her grow.

Sometimes, when I think too hard about the future, guilt creeps in for not finding her father. But just as quick as the thought comes, I always manage to pull myself out.

The truth is, I don’t want the stress. Having someone drift in and out of her life wouldn’t be fair to her. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t know where to begin searching for him. Greece is a place I’ll never see the same way again.

I laid back on the examination table, staring at the stark white ceiling. The walls were covered in outdated blue wallpaper and framed pictures that seemed older than I was.

This was the only doctor’s office in Faircloud, serving as a one-stop shop: primary care, OB-GYN, dentist, and optometrist. The practice had been running since “B.T.”—Before Theo. That explained the decor and the faint musty smell clinging to the wallpapered walls.

“There’s her hand,” the technician said, pointing at the screen. My chest swelled with pride and warmth as I gazed at her—my little girl.

I wanted to reach out and touch the screen but held back, watching intently as the technician adjusted the angles.

Every time I saw her, I dreamed of dressing her in cute outfits, imagining her as my mini-me. I thought about what her voice might sound like, what color her hair would be. Would she be tall or short? Athletic or artistic?

Being a mom was going to change me, hell it already has. I’m realizing I can’t handle everything alone. I’ll need to accept help, open my mind, and set my stubbornness aside.

Focusing on the ultrasound, I reminded myself of what mattered most. All the anxiety and fear melted away whenever I saw her. She’s my biggest accomplishment, and she isn’t even here yet.

As I slipped back into my clothes after the appointment wrapped up, my phone buzzed repeatedly. A series of text messages came flooding in, one after another.

Penny: Tequila Cowboy tonight?

Aspen: Yes! Boone and I will be there!

Penny: Do we know if Mac is bartending?

Aspen: I’ll ask Boone!

Aspen: Boone said, “How the hell would I know?”

Aspen: But I’m making him ask... Men. Smh.

Penny:

Penny: If he isn’t, I’m not going.

Aspen: Confirmed, Mac will be working!

Penny: I’m doing a happy dance.

Penny: Where’s Theo?

Aspen: DON’T IGNORE US!

Theo: I was at a doctor’s appointment. I don’t think I’ll join.

Aspen: Why nooootttt!

Penny: Yeah, come on! We miss you going out with us.

Aspen: I feel like we never see you anymore. Do you not like us?

My face flushed with frustration. My thumbs hovered over the keyboard.

They didn’t see me anymore because everything they wanted to do involved drinking or late nights—things I couldn’t do.

I loved them with everything I could but sometimes I felt like I was the third wheel. I didn’t enjoy reading, I wore dark colors and was as far from bubbly as one could be. Being the odd one out at their hangouts was my personal hell.

They seemed oblivious, continuing as though nothing had changed. It left me feeling alienated, like I was being left behind. Over the past month, I've noticed a shift. Did they not feel it?

When I told them I was pregnant, they were thrilled. I assumed they’d want to include me in activities I could enjoy, be overbearing and involved every step of the way. Maybe I was naive to think that.

Right now, I felt like I was shouting into a void only I could hear, my expectations too high.

"Forget this," I muttered, locking my phone while walking out of the doctor’s office. My pulse pounded in my ears, my thoughts a chaotic tangle. If I replied now, I’d say something I’d regret—something I couldn’t take back.

Outside, I leaned against my car, the cool metal grounding me. My phone was already in my hand. Without thinking too much, I tapped Rhodes’s name.

Why him? I didn’t know.

The line rang, each trill tightening the knot in my chest.

“Hello?” His deep voice answered, slightly out of breath.

“Am I bothering you?” I asked, the words tumbling out too fast. Under my breath, I muttered, “This is why I text.”

Rhodes chuckled, a warm, rumbling sound that somehow made my heart ache and ease all at once. “Nah. Just tossing a hay bale into the truck. What’s up?”

I hesitated, kicking a pebble on the pavement. “Nothing. Just... finished a doctor’s appointment.”

“Everything okay with the baby?” he asked, his tone dipping into genuine concern.

“Oh, yeah,” I said quickly, trying to keep it light. “She’s measuring almost eight inches already.”

There was a beat of silence before he asked, laughter in his voice, “Is that big?”

“Kind of, but nothing I can’t handle,” I said, then immediately slapped a hand to my forehead. Did that sound as suggestive as I thought it did?

Rhodes let the pause hang, just long enough to make me squirm. “Are you free Friday?” I blurted, desperate to change the subject.

“For you? Always. What time?”

“How’s five?” I asked, cringing at how casual I tried to sound while my stomach flipped like a damn pancake.

“Works for me. Any requests? Besides the pasta, of course.”

I thought for a moment, closing my eyes and letting myself tap into the craving. “What about a dark chocolate cake and ice cream?”

He scoffed, the sound airy, teasing, and entirely too attractive. “Deal. What kind of ice cream? Let me guess, I’ll make all your chocolate dreams come true.”

I laughed, nodding like an idiot at my phone, as if he could see me.

Something about the way he said it, low and easy, made my chest tighten in a way that wasn’t unpleasant. His soft promise seeped through my jagged thoughts, smoothing the edges. I exhaled, the weight I’d been carrying lifted just a little.

“Yes.” I exhaled, the word coming out like a release of pent up tension.

Somehow, Rhodes had reached into my chaotic mind and plucked out exactly what I was thinking, as if he understood me on a level no one else did. It was a familiar connection I couldn’t quite grasp but didn’t want to let go of.

“Perfect. I’ll see you Friday.”

“Wait, can I bring anything?” The words rushed out, a little too eager. I winced at myself. Truthfully, I just wanted to keep him on the line a moment longer.

“Just yourself.”

His response was simple, but it hit me harder than it should have. My throat went dry, and I swallowed audibly.

“Well, I’ll, uh, see you Friday?” The sentence hung awkwardly in the air, more like a question than a statement. Why did I say it like that? We’d literally just agreed on this.

I groaned quietly, slumping into the driver’s seat. My head thunked against the headrest, my frustration bubbling over.

“I’ll see you Friday,” Rhodes said, his voice steady, confident—everything I wasn’t in that moment.

Trying to channel the calm, mysterious woman I always aspired to be, I ended the call without a proper goodbye, my thumb tapping the screen just a little too quickly. Tossing my phone onto the passenger seat, I let out a groan, covering my face with my hands. The last thirty minutes of my life replayed in my head like a cringeworthy montage.

After a moment, I reached for my phone again, determined to distract myself. The group chat was still sitting there, waiting. With a resigned sigh, I typed out a generic response that was polite yet detached.

Theo: Maybe next time.

Satisfied with my emotionally evasive response, I set the phone down again and leaned back, letting the quiet of the car settle around me. Alone with my thoughts, I let the emotions I’d been holding back swirl unchecked.