Chapter 33
CHAPTER 33
NICOLE
Delirious Jones canceled the first three shows of their tour so Atticus could accompany me to New Jersey. They rescheduled those cities on the back end.
I’d told Atticus he didn’t have to come for Mimi’s services, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He insisted that there was nothing more important than being there for me, and he’d indeed stood by my side throughout Mimi’s wake and funeral.
My mother, who’d flown in from Florida, was understandably surprised to see Atticus with me. She knew he’d come to stay with me and Mimi here, but I hadn’t told her he and I had remained in touch since then. And I’d also told her nothing about the pregnancy because I only knew myself right before I flew out to California, and I’d wanted Atticus to be the first one I told.
After a whirlwind three days, it was now the morning after the funeral, and Atticus, my mother, and I were cleaning out Mimi’s little house, getting it ready to put on the market. Mom was eager to get as much done as possible while she was still in town. She said she needed my opinion on what I wanted to keep versus what should be donated.
Atticus was out getting coffee when my mother accosted me in Mimi’s kitchen. “So what’s the deal with Atticus?” she asked. “You two seemed very affectionate at the service.”
“What do you mean?” My cheeks burned.
“What do I mean? He had his hand on your back. I saw him kiss you multiple times on the top of your head...”
It had been a long few days, and I didn’t feel like explaining everything right now. But this was likely the last time I’d see my mother for a while. I needed to tell her about the pregnancy. My loose black dress had done its job not giving anything away, but might as well just rip the Band-Aid off.
“I’m pregnant,” I blurted.
My mother jumped back a little. “What?”
Unfortunately, Atticus walked in with our coffees at that very moment. Horrible timing.
“I got some donuts, too, if you—” He paused, likely sensing tension in the air.
“I just told my mother about the baby.”
“Oh.” He put the tray of coffees down. “Should I leave so you can talk?”
My mother held out her hand. “No, you need to stay, Atticus. I’m assuming you’re the father?”
He turned to me. “You haven’t gotten very far in the conversation, I take it.”
“He is, Mom.”
She placed her hand on her chest. “When did this happen?”
“Atticus and I have stayed in touch since we visited Mimi, and we…reconnected when I went out to California for that wedding.”
My mother turned to him. “I wanted better for her than to get back with you.”
My stomach sank. That wasn’t fair. Atticus looked like she’d just stabbed him in the heart. “Mom…” I scolded.
After a brief moment of shock, he straightened. I recognized the fighting look in his eyes. He wouldn’t back down easily. Atticus looked over at me. “It’s okay, baby. I can take it.” He turned to my mother. “I get why you’re apprehensive, Maria. But I’ll earn your trust back.”
“Do you know how long it took her to get over what happened with you? What she deserves after all that is a fresh start. But obviously, with a child in the picture—or I should say another child for you—that won’t be happening.”
My mother’s reaction was harsher than I’d expected. She was even more scarred by what happened to me, and likely how it related to her past with my father, than I’d realized.
“Your daughter and I have been through a lot, but I think even you can agree there’s never been a doubt about how much I love her,” Atticus said calmly. “This baby is a blessing, and I hope you’ll see it that way eventually. But I never want Nicole to feel stuck with me, and I’ve expressed that to her. While I will always be here for this child, I only want her to give me her heart if that’s what she truly wants for herself. She will always have a choice.”
Mom crossed her arms over her chest. “I can see the baby as a blessing, but that doesn’t mean I believe Nicole should take you back after everything—”
“Mom, please stop!” I yelled.
But my mother refused to calm down. “Your grandmother would be rolling in her grave if she knew what really happened between you two. Not sure why I ever went along with your ruse to keep it from her.”
“That’s precisely why we worked hard to make sure she never found out. We didn’t want to hurt her,” Atticus insisted.
“Well…” My mother sighed. “Nicole is a grown woman. She can make her own decisions. And while I can accept and love this baby, because it’s my grandchild, I will not accept her being left alone to raise it while you do God knows what on the road.”
I closed my eyes a moment. My mother’s attitude was partially the result of my own attitude for so long; I knew that. She’d fed off of what I’d told her, so I couldn’t completely blame her. I’d used her as a sounding board, and that had backfired. I’d now have to work to get her to come around. It was likely something only time could fix.
Atticus continued to be resilient. “I can understand why you’re wary, Maria. And by all means, take the time you need to get used to this, but I’m not going anywhere. Never again—unless she tells me to.” He walked over and wrapped his arm around me. “And for the record, if it were a matter of giving up my career or your daughter, I would choose her in a heartbeat. She hasn’t told me to make that choice, but it’s one I’m prepared for at any given moment.”
My eyes widened. I would never ask that of him, but it warmed me to hear him say it.
My mother’s shoulders relaxed a bit, and she walked over to me. “I’m sorry for not congratulating you. Obviously I’m thrilled to be having a grandchild. I just feel very protective of you.”
I smiled as I hugged her. “You don’t need to protect me. Atticus and I have both made mistakes in the past several years. We both played a hand in our breakup. But with this baby inside of me, I’m in a vulnerable place. Stress is not good for me right now. So while I’ve always valued your feedback, I need to kindly ask that you keep further negative opinions about Atticus to yourself.” I placed my hand on my stomach. “I know for certain that he’s going to be a damn good father to this baby, just like he’s a good father to his son.”
My mother nodded. “I won’t say anything else except congratulations again and I love you. And I hope to come visit you, wherever that may be, and help you when the time comes.”
“Thank you.” I nodded. “I appreciate that.”
“It’s a shame that Mimi passed before you could tell her,” she added. “She would’ve been so happy to be having a great- grandchild.” She grabbed a donut and one of the coffees Atticus had brought. “I’ll be out in the yard for a bit.”
As she slipped out, Atticus took me in his arms. “I had no idea your mother harbored so much resentment toward me. But I shouldn’t be surprised.”
I shook my head. “It’s my fault for the way I handled things for so long. I turned her against you, and I’m sorry. Both of us have had our share of fucking up. I started it. You finished it. But we’re both still here. And I love you.” I placed my hand on his face. “All Mimi wanted was the best for us. The least I can do to honor her memory is start being honest with myself. I love you. I never stopped, and I want this baby with you so much. You don’t need to give anything up. I wouldn’t let you do that. We’ll figure it out, okay?”
His eyes glistened. “Nicole…my love. I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but I’ll take it. The only opinion that matters to me is yours. And to hear those words come out of your mouth again?” He held me in his arms. “I love you so much, baby.”
After a moment, Atticus picked up the remaining coffees and offered me one. “Let’s take our coffees for a walk.”
“Now? We still have so much work to do.”
“It can wait. We need to clear our heads and get caffeinated—well, half-caf for you. The fresh air will do us good.”
My head was pounding, so I wasn’t going to argue. “Okay.” I pulled back the lid and took the first glorious sip as we headed out the door.
A couple of blocks down the road, we passed my dream house, the white one that had purple flower baskets out front in the spring and summer.
I sighed. “There she is…”
“You still love that house, huh?”
“I do.”
“You know, you’ve only ever seen the outside. How do you know you’ll like the inside?”
“I can’t imagine it’s not nice on the inside if they take such good care of the exterior.”
Atticus slowed his pace. “I wonder if the owner would let us see it.”
“What good would that do? It would just make me want it even more.”
“I still think we should ask.”
I shook my head. “That’s totally weird and rude, Atticus. I could never do that.”
“Seriously…ask him.”
“How do you know it’s a man? You know him?”
“He’s standing right here.” Atticus stopped suddenly and gestured toward himself. “Ask him.”
My jaw dropped. “Are you trying to tell me something?”
“Ask me to see the house, and I’ll let you know.” He smirked.
“Can we…see the house?” I asked, my heart pounding.
Beaming, he reached into his pocket and took out a key. He tossed it in the air and caught it. “Sure. Let’s go.”
What is happening? I followed Atticus as he led me into the house.
Wandering around a bit, I realized the inside was just as beautiful as I’d imagined—a combination of dark, rustic wood and weathered pieces, vintage-looking but not old. The furniture was beautifully upholstered, and the place was impeccably clean.
“I don’t understand,” I told him. “Explain this to me.”
“Okay. Well, when we were here taking care of Mimi, I made the owner an offer he couldn’t refuse. He agreed to sell it to me. The guy and his wife were thinking of downsizing anyway. So it was perfect timing.”
“You’ve owned this house since then?”
“Yeah. I’ve been holding onto it and having work done.”
“Was the inside already decorated like this? Because this is exactly how I pictured it.”
“Not entirely. Some of the stuff is theirs. But I know your taste, and well, I have access to your Pinterest boards. Tina has a key and has been coming over the past few months to help set it up. I gave her my credit card and told her to go to town.”
“Oh my God.” My mouth fell open. “When were you planning to tell me? This trip wasn’t even planned.”
He shrugged. “I wasn’t sure when I was gonna tell you. It’s not completely ready yet. I wanted it to be a surprise, and I was going to give it to you whether you wanted to be with me or not. You’ve never taken anything from me, but I wanted you to have your Monksville dream house. The way you looked at it last time we were here, I knew it still meant a lot to you. The only thing that would make it a dream for me would be to share it with you. But that part’s up to you. Ultimately, this will be your house.”
I continued to walk around in shock. The same beautiful purple violets that filled the baskets out front were arranged in various vases throughout the place. “Tina put these flowers here, too?”
“Well, you always talked about the purple flowers out front more than anything, so I told her to add more inside. They’re silk, though, so they won’t die.”
“I don’t know what to say…”
“I’m not gonna lie. I’ve worried about your reaction a little. I never want you to think I’m trying to buy you or buy my way into your life. That’s not what this is about. But honestly, the way you stood up for me with your mother today? This felt like the right time to let you know about it. For the first time, I’m feeling encouraged that I might get to enjoy this house with you.”
“I wouldn’t let you gift me a house unless you were living in it, too.”
He took my hand and smiled. “Let’s tour the rest of the place.”
Atticus led me upstairs. There were three bedrooms, one primary and two others.
“I was surprised there were only three bedrooms, given the size of the house,” he said. “But we can always put on an addition someday.”
“Well, I guess they’re all accounted for, then,” I said.
“They are?”
“Our room, Christian’s, and the baby’s.”
Atticus’s eyes filled with emotion.
“I know you’ve doubted whether I could accept Christian into my life, and with good reason,” I told him. “But there’s no way I can be with you without accepting Christian as my son, too. The old me could never have fathomed that. She had way too much ego to consider such radical acceptance. But I’ve grown and learned so much about forgiveness in the past several months. Letting go of the jealousy and animosity over how Christian came to be gives me the freedom to love both of you.”
Atticus exhaled as he wrapped his arms around me. “Thank you,” he whispered.
We returned downstairs, and I noticed a set of built-in shelves just outside the kitchen. They had recessed lighting and displayed dozens of Starbucks mugs, each from a different location around the world. Atticus knew I liked to collect those, but because I didn’t travel all that much, I’d only ever had a handful from various states—nothing from outside of the US.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Took you long enough to notice.” He smiled. “Whenever the band and I were in a new city, I’d try to get you one or I’d ask whoever was going to fetch coffee to get me one. A few times they got broken or lost in transit, but these are all the ones I saved. I brought them home after every tour. I never knew if I’d have the chance to give them to you, but collecting them was my way of hanging on to hope. I recently came up with the idea for this shelf, so I wrapped them all up, put them in a box, and asked Tina to set them up for me here. As you can see, no matter where I was in the world, I was always thinking of you.”