Chapter 40 Jada
Saturday morning after eating a buffet-style breakfast with Glamma—because she insisted I was eating for two—I loaded up her returns and left for the bus stop for my bartending job. I hated that even the bus stop reminded me of Bryce and the day he pulled up, insisting I ride with him.
I hadn’t known him all that long, and already I saw him everywhere.
The bus rumbled up, and I climbed on, tapping my bus pass to the sensor as I went.
I sat down and looked around, seeing a mix of people on board.
One mother held a baby to her chest, nursing with a little blanket for privacy.
The woman looked exhausted, and she leaned her head back on the seat, eyes closed.
Would that be me in just a few months?
I’d have to figure something out for childcare during my bartending shifts–I couldn't exactly be mixing drinks while wearing a baby on my chest. The question of what I’d do about childcare wouldn’t leave my thoughts throughout my shift.
My child would have free care while I worked at the daycare, but the extra money my bartending work brought in would especially be needed for things like diapers and wipes.
Although I hated to admit it, Glamma wouldn’t be up to watching a baby for several hours at a time.
Maybe I could find a new, more childfriendly job.
Add that to my list… Along with these returns.
After my shift, I went back to the bus to catch the one that would bring me closest to the boutique.
Riding the bus wasn’t the most convenient way to the boutique since I still had to walk about fifteen minutes from the closest bus stop, but it gave me time to clear my head and think.
Maybe next year I could get a new teaching job so at least I wouldn’t have to worry about babysitting over the summer.
Glamma’s friends at church were sure to know some people who could babysit for me, maybe without me paying an arm and a leg.
Those ladies probably knew people with baby clothes and items to give away too.
And we would have to budget. Even though Glamma loved her shopping, I’d just tell her that it was time to set a budget. I’d heard good things about using cash envelopes. I could learn more about cooking on a budget and take on the grocery shopping.
Even though the father didn’t want to be involved, maybe I could get the courts to require a paternity test and child support. Although, from things my friends had said through the years, men could practically get away with anything.
The weight of it all was so much that my chest felt tight as I walked into the boutique. I hardly noticed the renovations they were doing out front, but standing at the front register, I could tell they were updating the signage.
The same woman I usually saw working there with the big blond hair and dark eyeliner noticed me looking at the changes. “We’ve been bought out.”
“Is that good?” I asked her.
She shrugged. “Nothing much is changing but the signs.”
Hopefully that meant the return policy was still in place. “I’m here to return some things my grandma bought by mistake.” I unzipped the bag and lifted piles of clothes and jewelry onto the counter. Then I got out my wallet and passed her Glamma’s card. “Please refund it to this.”
She pursed her lips like she couldn’t believe we were still doing this, but then her jaw went slack as she read the info on the card to type it in. “What’s the address?” she asked.
Confused, I rambled it off. They never verified our address before, but I wrote it off to the ownership transfer.
“No return needed,” she said.
I raised my eyebrows. “What?”
“We’ve been instructed to automatically refund all purchases made from that address—it should already be reflected in your account.”
Now my jaw was the one going slack. “What?” It seemed I was a broken record today.
She tipped her head to the side. “You might want to go outside and check the sign.”
Still bewildered, I left my bag on the counter and walked out front where the guy on a ladder was still screwing pieces of the sign into the wall, but I could read it clearly. Glamma’s Place.
I stared and stared because I knew exactly who had bought the store and made this happen. Even though Bryce said he needed space, I had to call him about this.
Fishing my phone out of the pocket of my leggings, I dialed his number and held my phone to my ear. It rang. And rang. And rang.
Then his warm voice came over in a recorded message. “You’ve reached Bryce Madigan. Leave me a message, and I’ll return your call.”
My eyes stung as the beep rang through the speaker.
Lowering my phone to my side, I gave one last look at the sign and then went inside to collect my things.
On the way out, I took a picture of the sign to show Glamma.
No matter how things turned out between Bryce and me, I knew the smile on her face when she saw it would make all of this heartache worth it.
The ride back home on the bus seemed to go faster than the ride there, but then I noticed a truck alongside the curb in front of the house.
Bryce’s truck.
My heart rate ratcheted up. He’s here?
Then I realized he was alone inside with Glamma.
So I hurried into the house and found them sitting in the living room surrounded by paper shopping bags. They both looked up at me, Bryce with a guarded expression, Glamma grinning like the Cheshire cat.
“What’s going on here?”
Glamma said, “Bryce brought some things for you. A lot of things for you.”
I swear the tips of his ears went red. “I met with a prenatal specialist.” He reached into the bags, talking fast and pulling out the items as he mentioned them.
“Some lotion for your skin, supplements that are supposed to help third-trimester development, a belly band to make things more comfortable, ginger suckers for nausea...”
As he continued through the list, my eyes misted over.
And then he pulled out an item wrapped in a beautiful pink box with a blue bow. “I got this for you too.”
My lips parted as I looked at it. “You got me all this?” I asked him.
He smiled and nodded.
Glamma yelled, “Open it already!”
Laughing through the tears, I tugged on the ribbon and lifted the lid.
Inside was a frame just the right size for a sonogram picture. And on the bottom, etched into the porcelain, was her name, Twyla Jordan. Unable to find words, I looked up at him. He stood from the couch, waiting for me to speak.
“Can we talk outside?” I finally asked.
He nodded and turned to Glamma, giving her a smile. “I’ll come back in to help with that dresser when we’re done.”
She smiled at him over jeweled reading glasses. “Good boy.”
I shook my head at them, holding on to the frame and all the hope it gave me until we stood on the front porch and could talk in the guise of privacy.
“You bought her a boutique?” I asked.
He tilted his head to the side. “Seems like she was keeping them afloat on her own.”
I laughed, the light feeling unexpectedly wonderful. “When did you do that?”
“As soon as I found out you were making returns to pay your bills.”
The way he said it made buying a business seem so uncomplicated despite the messiness of our situation. “Can you return a business?” I asked him. “You know, if you’ve changed your mind about us?”
“Jada...” He reached out, holding my cheek in his palm.
My jaw trembled. This was it, wasn’t it? The shopping bags—that was his way of feeling good about cutting me loose. “It’s okay,” I told him. Or maybe I was telling myself.
But then he said, “I’m not changing my mind.”
I looked up at him, confused. “What?”
His thumb crested the apple of my cheek. “I’ve been falling for you too, Jada, but I didn’t believe in love at first sight until I saw the photo of her.”
My breath caught. “Do you mean…?”
“It’s the three of us,” he said. Then he smiled, tilted his head toward the house. “The four of us. From here on out.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but then the doorknob twisted, sounding the rasp of metal on metal. We both looked over to see Glamma coming out the door. With a smile, she said, “I’m going to go celebrate with Irma. See you both sometime this evening.”
Then I realized there was a car waiting at the end of the sidewalk, Glamma's friend Irma grinning at us over her sunglasses. She wiggled her fingers at us and then slowly rolled down the window. “Congratulations on the baby, you two!”
My cheeks got hot. “You told her, Glamma?!”
“Don’t be mad at her!” Irma yelled out. “She’s excited to be an even greater grandma.”
Bryce squeezed my hand and leaned in to whisper in my ear. “Looks like we’re finally alone.”