Love Lessons

Chapter Eleven Papaya

Chapter Eleven Papaya

Valerie

Valerie couldn’t help but notice the shift in Andrew during the past two weeks after she’d stayed for almost three hours at

his house watching reality television and just laughing and hanging out with him. That day, he’d learned that she loved banana

muffins, and now there was always a banana muffin waiting for her at her desk.

Now that her morning sickness had subsided, she was ravenous after waking up. Some days her stomach growled so loudly, if

it could have jumped out of her body, it would have grabbed a muffin itself. Aside from Andrew and his mom, no one knew about

the pregnancy yet. She thought it prudent to wait until the second trimester. And now she was there, and so were her tight-fitting

pants and her boobs. How no one had asked about her weight gain was beyond her.

During lunch, she undid the top button of her pants and sat back as she ate a salad she’d brought from home. She’d been good about making healthier choices and bringing food with her every day. She had stopped eating out and had cut as much salt as she could tolerate without gagging at the blandness of her food.

Thankfully, no one in the lounge noticed her unbuttoned pants. Well, no one except Andrew, of course. Andrew noticed everything.

He knew she got drowsy after lunch, and somehow their schedule shifted so she did most of her teaching in the morning and

he took over in the afternoon. She hadn’t even realized it had happened until a few days earlier.

One night, he brought dinner to her apartment after she complained about having to cook, and Valerie gave him the rundown

of all the best reality shows. But he was still a pain in the ass. If she brought lunch that was not in the approved pamphlet,

he’d look at her in a way that made her feel so guilty she’d dump the salted food into the garbage.

“What’s with you two?” Emma, one of the school counselors, asked from beside her. Valerie hadn’t noticed that she was watching

Andrew from her table on the other side of the lounge. Did he wake up every morning and decide today was a green sweater kind

of a day? How many did he own? She forked her salad and shoved food into her mouth. Where did he find all these sweaters?

The man was easily six-one and wide-shouldered. She didn’t think they made sweaters for his physique just anywhere. Maybe

he had a weird Mr. Rogers fetish.

Did he have any fetishes? He knew how to work her body and make her explode. He wasn’t shy about the things he’d done to her

that one night or vocalizing what he wanted to do to her. But what else? What drove him crazy? Did he have fantasies? What

were they?

“Hello? Are you listening to me?”

“Sorry, what?” she asked, her face feeling super warm.

“You and Andrew? Do you even talk in class? I don’t understand how you two can teach the same class.”

She lifted a shoulder and dropped it. “He’s not that bad.”

Monique, who sat on the other side of her, reached over and placed the palm of her hand on Valerie’s forehead. “Are you sick?

You are kind of flushed.”

“I’m fine,” she told her friends.

Valerie smelled it before she saw it. Where was the delicious aroma coming from? She whipped her head to the door as another

teacher strolled in with a big bag of KFC. He dumped a bucket of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, and biscuits in the

middle of the round table where Monique, Emma, and Valerie sat.

“Oh my God!” Valerie’s eyes widened, and her mouth watered. Junior must have been happy at the sight of the fried chicken

because he fluttered.

“Help yourself. Just got back from the field trip at the zoo, and the parents pitched in and brought too much food.”

Valerie reached forward excitedly, but before she had a chance to eat the breaded goodness, Andrew was at her side, pulling

the bucket away and taking the drumstick from her hand.

“Get outta my way, Wexler.”

“Are you crazy? This is just sodium.”

“It’s chicken.”

“It’s salt dressed up as chicken. You can’t eat this.”

“Watch me.” She tried to reach around him, but Andrew pulled the food farther out of her reach.

“Uh... you’re watching what Val eats now? What kind of fucked-up co-teacher situation is happening here?” Monique asked.

Valerie let out a deep breath and slumped back in her seat defeatedly. Andrew silently questioned her, and she gave an imperceptible

nod. Everyone in the teachers’ lounge had witnessed that interaction. And they were all waiting for answers. They had agreed

to tell people when the time was right, and it seemed like it was now that time.

“No time like the present,” she murmured under her breath.

“Valerie’s pregnant,” Andrew said.

The room of chattering teachers and administrators stopped. It was like a break in the matrix—no one moved and time was suspended.

“Whaaat?” Monique and Emma yelled simultaneously.

“I’m pregnant.” She patted her not-so-flat belly. “And he’s the baby daddy,” she said, pointing at Andrew, who just shrugged.

“ What? ” Monique and Emma said again, this time louder and slower. Monique’s half-eaten sandwich had fallen onto her paper plate,

and a grape was slowly rolling off the table.

“When? How?” Emma asked.

“You hate each other,” someone else added.

“I guess that one time, I sort of didn’t hate him?” Valerie admitted.

“And her blood pressure is elevated. She shouldn’t be eating things with sodium, like fried chicken,” Andrew said, as he practically

pried more chicken out of Valerie’s hand.

“How about a biscuit? One biscuit?” she whined, as if she hadn’t just spit out bombshell news.

“You know you’re supposed to report romantic relationships,” Fiona, one of the administrators, said. She was kind of a jerk. Valerie had never liked her much.

“We’re not in a romantic relationship.”

“There’s no relationship. Not romantic, not anything,” Andrew added.

“Well, you need to disclose this to Carmichael,” Fiona said.

“I will,” Valerie said, and then looked over at Andrew. If he wanted to be in the picture, he better be prepared to be all

the way in the picture. “We will.”

After some questions, most of the staff eventually went back to their regularly scheduled programming, but Monique stayed

put. The KFC was confiscated by someone, but the delicious smell still wafted around and Valerie’s stomach did flips. God,

she wanted something salty.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Monique asked accusingly.

“I wanted to wait until I was in my second trimester. And also, it just didn’t really feel real. I mean...” She leaned

toward her friend. “It’s Andrew.”

She had mentioned the crazy slip-of-the-mind evening with Andrew when she and Monique had talked over the summer. It had been

so out of character and so completely nuts that Valerie had refused to discuss it further, even though Monique brought it

up every now and again by giving Valerie knowing looks when Valerie complained about having to co-teach.

“And he’s, like, super involved and actually kind of sweet, but he’s also the biggest pain in the behind.”

“I’m shook,” Monique said.

“You’re also forty, so ‘shook’ isn’t one of those words we’re allowed to say,” Valerie said, and Monique laughed. “Time’s up.” They all looked up at the clock in the lounge. Valerie stood and rebuttoned her pants.

“Well, color me stupid,” Monique said when she noticed Valerie’s small protruding belly.

Valerie chuckled and threw away what was left of her salad, cleaned her bowl, repacked her lunch bag, and walked with Wexler

back to class. Yawning all the way down the hall.

“Well, that went well,” he said.

“Not the part where I couldn’t eat the biscuit.” She side-eyed him. “But, yeah, it was nice to tell other people.”

“Your mom and Carmichael—we have to tell them,” he said.

“Ugh... I know.”

“I think we need to talk to Carmichael sooner rather than later. I don’t doubt that he knows already, since there were so

many people in the lounge just now.”

“Fine. We’ll tell him right after school today. Do you think it’s gonna be a problem?”

“Not sure. I guess we’ll find out.”

As per the last few weeks, Valerie sat at her desk and tried not to doze off after lunch. Andrew was in the middle of teaching

when the door to the classroom swung open and Carmichael stood in the doorway. Crap. I guess the cat’s outta the bag.

“Kids, keep working quietly on whatever you’re working on. I need to speak to your teachers for one second,” Carmichael said

to their class. “You two, out in the hall, please.”

Valerie groaned. Not because they’d been caught, but because she didn’t want to stand up and walk all the way across the classroom. She wanted a nap. Plus, they had done nothing wrong. They were two consenting adults.

“What’s up?” Valerie asked nonchalantly. Andrew was anything but nonchalant. The poor man was wound tighter than a tightrope,

and the worry radiated off him.

“?‘What’s up?’ Really, Valerie? What do you think is up?” Carmichael asked.

“What she means is, how can we help you, sir?”

“Please, Wexler, he obviously already knows. Lay off on the formalities,” Valerie said, and took a step forward. “I’m pregnant.

I’m due in April so I’ll probably need some time off toward the end of the school year.”

“Probably?” Andrew asked.

“Okay, not probably. I’m going to need some time off because, well, you know, baby.” She pointed at her belly.

They both waited for Carmichael’s reaction. “And just to be clear, you are the father?” he said finally. “That wasn’t just

a rumor?”

“Yes, Andrew is the father.” Her life had begun to feel like an episode of Maury Povich. “And, yes, we didn’t get along.”

“?‘Didn’t,’ as in past tense?” Carmichael asked. “Because it wasn’t too long ago when I almost fired one of you.”

“Well, let’s just say we’re better. Or trying. I don’t think it’s hate so much as tolerate. So definitely a big improvement,”

Andrew said.

Carmichael’s stare was unreadable. They couldn’t tell if he was upset until he smiled and wrapped his arms around both of them together. He laughed heartily and said, “Well, I can certainly say one thing about you two—you keep me on my toes! I’m excited for you both. I’m worried, since I’ve seen you two in action, but you know what they say: there’s a very thin line between love and hate. I’m hopeful. My ulcer is hopeful as well.”

After Carmichael walked away, Valerie turned to Andrew and said, “I’m kind of tired of the ‘thin line between love and hate’

speech everyone’s giving us.”

“Is that what your mom’s going to say too?”

“Oh, my mom is gonna say a lot more than that. I hope you’re prepared."

“You’re making me nervous, Valerie.”

“You should be. My mom is nothing at all like your mother. I’ve been avoiding her, but if I don’t go see her this weekend,

she’s going to do a wellness check.”

“Okay, so let’s go this weekend and tell her.”

Valerie scrunched up her face. “I think it’s best I speak with her alone first, and then we can do the meet and greet.” Mostly

she didn’t want to scare Andrew off. Her mother was going to flip, and Andrew did not have to be there for that. Valerie wanted

to soften the blow before she brought Andrew into the fold.

“Are you sure? A united front is always better,” he said, but she shook her head. They weren’t united in the way her mother

would expect. Even the way he said it felt wrong, because even if they were friends, they weren’t united. Not really. And

that thought, every time it crept up, really stung.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Andrew asked. It was Saturday morning, and Andrew had already called twice to ask the same question. It was time to tell her judgmental mom about the pregnancy, even if Valerie preferred Junior’s telling her himself on his tenth birthday.

“Positive,” Valerie said as she slipped on her shoes. “Damn it, I don’t have any shoes that fit.”

“Are you checking your blood pressure? Is it okay?”

“Yes, it’s fine. I’m just getting fat is all.”

“If it’s just your feet, you might be retaining fluid. Make sure you watch what you eat today.”

“I have been watching what I eat. I’ll call you after. I have an appointment to cut my hair first, so it’ll be a while before

I text you.”

“Good luck,” he said, and then hung up. She would need it. Maybe going with Andrew would have been a good idea. He would not

allow her mother to talk down to her. He’d hold her hand and do that united-front crap he’d talked about. But this was something

she needed to do herself, even if she dreaded it.

“Hi, Mom,” Valerie said as she let herself into her mother’s house.

“In here,” Anabel hollered. “I’ll be done in two minutes.”

Valerie put her purse down and followed the sound of the Peloton’s pedals swishing fiercely. Anabel was really into self-care.

She hadn’t been this way when Valerie had been a child. Or maybe she had. As the years passed, Valerie had begun to realize

that she hadn’t really known her mom that well. Her mom had always been working. She wasn’t a bad mom. She did everything

a mom should do.

Anabel had made sure Valerie had a roof over her head and food in her body, had showed up at all school events, worried about Valerie’s grades, made sure she went to all her yearly physicals... What Anabel didn’t do were the other things, the personal and emotional things. They didn’t talk about boys, feelings, likes and dislikes. They didn’t really talk . Not in the deep sense of the word. Maybe Anabel had always been this person who Valerie was now getting to know, and it

had taken retirement to bring it out in her.

While her mother finished up, Valerie poured herself a glass of water and sat in the living room and played with her phone.

She took a selfie and sent it to Andrew.

Andrew: I like it.

Valerie: Maybe too short?

She’d asked for a bob ending by her jawline. It felt weird to see herself with such short hair.

Andrew: No. Not at all. Honestly? It’s sexy.

They were approaching the no-go zone. There were days she felt like, if one of them even hinted at an attraction, they’d be

screwing against every flat surface. The attraction was still there, even if they were doing a great job at pretending it

wasn’t.

Valerie quickly changed the subject.

Valerie: Speaking of sexy. How about Christian?

Andrew: I was raised Catholic.

Valerie: LOL. I was talking about the name, dummy. Christian, like Christian Grey

Andrew: First of all, you used the word ‘sexy’ and erotica to name our child. Did they cut part of your brain with the haircut?

Valerie laughed loudly, and then she heard her mother in the kitchen.

Valerie: Shit. Gotta go. My mom just finished her Peloton class. Wish me luck. Bye

Anabel walked into the room, patting her face with a towel and holding a bottle of water.

“You should get one of those. They’re fun, and you don’t have to go anywhere. You can do it when you’re bored for a few minutes

a day.”

“I don’t really think that would fit in my apartment, Mom.”

“That’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. I don’t like your apartment. It’s on the tenth floor, not in the

best neighborhood, and it’s too small. You should move. Oh... did you cut your hair again?”

“You’ve been meaning to tell me? You’ve told me a million times, Mom. And it’s not on the tenth floor. It’s on the fifth.

And, yes, I cut my hair again, and I love it.”

“Have I?” Her mother shrugged. “Well, I haven’t told you in a while, so a little friendly reminder is always good. You can do better than that apartment. Heck, there’s plenty of space here if you want to save on rent.”

Was her mother crazy?

“I’m not moving, Mom. I’m good where I am.” The non-compliment about her hair did not go unnoticed by Valerie.

“Actually,” Anabel said, her Botoxed eyebrows trying to scrunch together but unable to, “have you put on some weight? Parate.

Let me take a good look at you.”

Valerie really didn’t want to stand up, so she didn’t. Her mother noticed everything. Of course she’d noticed that she had

gained a few pounds, mostly because it was all in one spot.

“I have gained a little bit of weight, actually.” This was it, this was her moment to tell her mother. Wow, what was she so

nervous about? She was a grown woman, fully capable of taking care of herself. She didn’t need her mother’s approval. There

was no need for her to be worried. Right?

“Mom...” She stood, even though she hadn’t been planning to stand. When Valerie was nervous, she paced, and she started

to walk around, playing with the elastic hair tie on her wrist, now a useless artifact because her hair was too short to put

up.

“Ay, dios mío!” Her mother gasped and covered her mouth, her eyes homed in on the roundness of Valerie’s belly. Anabel stood up and walked toward Valerie. “You’re pregnant.” It wasn’t a question, and it also wasn’t said with derision or judgment. For some reason, maybe because her mother was the way she was—matter-of-fact, a little cold, but always well intentioned—Valerie burst into tears.

Anabel took Valerie into her arms and rubbed her back while saying, “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay,” over and over again.

Somehow, Valerie ended up on her mother’s sofa, her head on her mother’s lap while Anabel soothingly ran her fingers through

her daughter’s hair. If there was a scenario Valerie could have imagined after telling her mom this news, this was not it.

Not at all.

“Do you know who the father is?” Anabel asked.

Valerie lifted her head, her brows high on her forehead, and her mouth agape. “Mom! Of course I do! What is wrong with you?”

“I had to ask, mija. Don’t bite my head off.” She pushed Valerie’s head back onto her lap and continued to caress her. “Do

you want this baby, Val?”

“Yes,” she hiccupped.

“Then why are you crying so much? What’s going on? How far along are you? Who’s the father?”

“I’m about seventeen weeks. The father is Andrew.”

“The teacher? The one you hate? Huh.”

Valerie looked up. “What is ‘huh’ supposed to mean?”

“You know, there’s a very thin line between love and hate.”

Valerie sat up and rubbed the tears from her eyes. “Oh my God, not you too? That’s what everyone has said.”

“Everyone? Everyone knows? Am I the last person to know, Val?” Her mother looked like she’d been slapped in the face, and

Val suddenly felt like the world’s biggest asshole.

“Well, not everyone. Andrew wanted his mother to know right away. I didn’t want anyone to know until the second trimester, but everyone sort of figured it out at school this week so...” They didn’t really figure it out so much as Andrew had blurted it out. But a white lie to save her mother’s feelings was worth it, right?

“So everyone knows, because that seems like everyone to me. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I don’t know, Mom. Because you’re you. I didn’t want to hear how I messed up my life. How I’d gotten knocked up. How I was

irresponsible.”

“I’m your mother. I tell you the things that no one else wants to tell you. I tell you the things that are true, but I only

tell you because I love you and because it’s my job to tell you things when you need to hear them. Even when you don’t want

to hear them. But I always tell you because I love you.”

Valerie broke out in another sob.

“I just want you to be happy, mi amor. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. I want your life to be easier than mine was. Would I prefer

that you were married? Of course. It’s easier when you have a partner. Did you think I liked working two jobs and missing

out on so much?”

“You didn’t miss out, Mom. You were always there. Tired but always there.”

“Maybe I was there physically, but I know I wasn’t there emotionally. And just the fact that you were scared to tell me the most important thing that’s ever happened to you is a reminder that I was not a great mom to you. I don’t want that for you and your child. And if you were married or with someone you loved—it’s just easier, honey. But you’re not alone, because you have me, and I don’t know what this Andrew guy wants from the baby or from you, but you’re not alone.”

“He’s actually great, Mom. He’s really into this whole pregnancy.”

“Are you two together?”

“No, we’re not together, but he brings me food all the time. He makes sure I’m okay. He went to the doctor’s appointment with

me. He wants to be fully involved, and I don’t think it’s just for now. I don’t think it’s going to end. I know he’s going

to be a good father. He seems to know more about being a dad than I know about being a mom.”

Anabel went still, and Valerie quickly held her hand and clarified. “Wait, that came out wrong. I’m sorry, that’s not at all

what I meant. What I meant was that I didn’t think I wanted children because I’m selfish and lazy and kind of immature. I

don’t know the first thing about taking care of someone else, but Andrew, he’s not like that. He selfless, he’s mature...

Mami, he wears sweaters. Sweaters.”

Anabel laughed. “And you’re sure there’s nothing between you two?”

“There’s nothing. Not really. I have no doubt he’d marry me right now if I would agree to it. But he doesn’t love me. He’s

a good guy, but I don’t want to be with someone just so I’m not alone. But he wants to be involved, and we’re getting along

pretty well. I think it’s going to be okay, Mom. We’re going to make it work.”

“Well, I want to meet this man who knocked up my daughter and who wears sweaters and has been taking care of her.”

“Okay,” she said, sniffling.

“Tomorrow. Bring him over for lunch,” she said. “I’m going to be an abuela.”

“So... you’re happy about this?” She was on edge. The other shoe would soon drop, she was sure.

“I’m processing it, mija. It’s certainly a shock and not how I expected to become an abuela. Wow. An abuela! I’m too young

to be an abuela. Maybe she can call me something else. Nana, Tatí...”

“It’s not a she.”

“You’re having a boy? You already know? So early?”

“I don’t know know, but I know.”

Her mother laughed. “Mija, the way that belly is sitting, it’s a girl. For sure. And she’s going to be a handful, just like

you.”

Andrew

How are you not nervous?” Valerie asked Andrew. “I was terrified to meet Peggy.”

“Why would I be nervous? You told me she was happy about this.”

“I didn’t say happy. I said that she’d been surprisingly supportive. She wasn’t angry. She took it better than I thought.

How you extrapolated happy from that, I don’t know. My mother is not a happy person, per se.”

“What is she, then? Grumpy? Bitter?”

“No, nothing like that. She’s just my mom. She says what’s on her mind. She’s not very careful with how she says it either. I mean, she smiles, she has friends, but she’s not like your mom, who smiles and bakes and hugs.”

“So, in other words, she’s just like you.”

Valerie’s mouth opened and closed. Had he said something wrong? Was she surprised? People loved Valerie, but she wasn’t a

hugger, she didn’t bake, she didn’t make you feel warm and fuzzy. She was just this larger-than-life personality who said

what everyone was thinking but in a nonthreatening way. She was charming.

“I am nothing like my mom. I’m not judgmental or critical. I don’t catastrophize everything.”

“You are not judgmental?” He literally laughed out loud. “You made my life a living hell for the past four years.”

“But that wasn’t because I was judgmental; that’s because you were being an ass.”

“Was I really? Now that you know me better, am I really an ass, or do we maybe just have different teaching styles?”

She shrugged. “No, you’re an ass.” But it was said without any derision. She was thawing, and he liked it. He also liked that

she seemed to like him as much as he liked her. She didn’t wear her heart on her sleeve. It took some digging to find the

soft spots of Valerie, but they were there. And he also liked that they’d become friends. Even though they spent all day together

at work, they texted all evening about frivolous things.

And it didn’t end on weekdays. If he saw something on television that he thought she’d like, he’d text her. If she saw a commercial

for some restaurant she couldn’t eat at she’d add it to the “Places Wexler Will Take Me After I’ve Had This Baby” list.

“Ready?” she asked as she put her key in and unlocked the door.

“I think I should be asking you that question. You seem out of sorts. I’m totally fine.”

“Suit yourself, Wexler.” She opened the door. “Mami! We’re here.”

“In the kitchen,” her mother yelled back.

“We can be loud, by the way,” Valerie said as she dropped her purse on a table by the entrance. “I had a boyfriend once who

thought I was always fighting with my mom when we talked over the phone. Cubans can be loud, but we’re usually not fighting.”

“How will I know if it’s an actual argument?”

“Oh, you’ll know it. Trust me.”

Valerie walked into the kitchen as her mother took a pan from the oven. She kissed her cheek. “Mom, this is Andrew Wexler.

Andrew, this is my mom, Anabel.”

Her mother took off her oven mitts. Her face was unreadable and now he was nervous. Awkwardly, Andrew stuck his hand out,

but Anabel came forward and hugged him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “It is wonderful to finally meet you, Andrew.”

“You too, Mrs. Marquez,” he said, letting out that breath he’d been holding.

“Please, call me Ana.”

“It smells delicious in here,” Andrew said.

“It’s Val’s favorite.”

“Arroz con pollo?” Valerie asked.

“Of course,” Anabel replied. “Why don’t you sit. I have wine if you’d like,” she said to Andrew. “Or beer?”

“I’ll take a beer,” Andrew said.

“I’ll get it for him. What do you want, Mom?”

“I have a glass of wine at the table already. How hungry are you two?”

“Starving. Is the food ready?” Valerie said.

“Sí. Grab the beer and something for you, and I’ll bring the food out to the table.”

After they’d sat down for lunch, Anabel said, “Andrew, did you know that Val is obsessed with football? There’s a game on

tonight, which is probably why she’s in such a hurry to eat.”

Andrew laughed. “I did know, because she’s mentioned it a hundred times.”

“I’m not obsessed with football. I’m obsessed with the Dolphins. I’m sure they’re going to win tonight.”

“They’re not,” both her mother and Andrew said simultaneously.

She huffed and took a bite of the food.

“This is delicious, Mrs. Marquez,” Andrew said. Apparently, it was Anabel’s specialty. He now understood why it was Valerie’s

favorite.

Val nodded, with a mouthful of yellow rice and chicken. He also knew why it was so delicious. It had salt.

“I’m glad you like it, Andrew.”

“Mrs. Marquez—”

“Ana. ‘Mrs. Marquez’ makes me feel old, and I’m already having a hard time with being a grandmother so young.”

Valerie rolled her eyes, and Andrew smiled. Her mother looked young, younger than his own mom, but she was definitely at an

appropriate age to be a grandmother. If he had to guess, she was mid- to late sixties.

Andrew wasn’t sure how much Anabel knew about Valerie’s blood pressure, and he didn’t want to make too many waves at the dinner table, and on the day they were meeting for the first time, but as he watched Valerie eat, he became worried.

“Ana. Did Valerie tell you about her blood pressure?”

Valerie instantly groaned and gave him a death glare.

“No, she did not. Apparently Valerie doesn’t tell me much these days. What about her blood pressure? It’s not preeclampsia,

is it?” For a moment he had forgotten that Anabel had been a nurse. Of course she would understand the medical terminology

and implications.

“It’s nothing, Mom. The doctor’s just monitoring my blood pressure because it’s a little high.”

Anabel immediately reached over and pulled the plate of food away from her daughter. This was not gonna be a fun ride home.

“Seriously?”

“How high are we talking about here?” Anabel asked Andrew, which just seemed to infuriate Valerie more.

Andrew responded, “One thirty over eighty.”

“You see, it’s not that bad. It’s just a little high, and they’re just monitoring it is all,” Valerie said.

Anabel pushed her plate away and turned her chair toward her daughter. “Let me see your feet.” She patted her lap. “Dale.

Give me a foot. Are you retaining fluid?”

With a huff, Valerie toed off her sandals and placed her feet on her mother’s lap. Her mother pressed down on different spots,

watching the skin as it popped up.

“You’re retaining fluid. You need to be super careful. Preeclampsia is very serious for you and for the baby. How did you not tell me this? Do you know how much salt I put in this food?”

“I have been so good. And this is my favorite food.”

“And you ate your favorite food. What you cannot do is have seconds.”

“I’m not even finished with my firsts!”

“Yes, you are. Sorry, Andrew, but you need to keep an eye on her—she’s stubborn. Did the doctor explain preeclampsia to you

both?”

“No. I don’t think we’re there yet. She told us we needed to be careful so it doesn’t become more serious but I’ve researched

it. Thoroughly.”

“You have?” Valerie asked.

“Of course I have,” he said. Did she not realize how much he cared about the baby and her own health? He turned to her mother.

“Valerie’s been pretty good about what she eats, Ana, but sometimes I think she cheats.”

“Oh my God, whose side are you on?” Valerie said. “Try finding foods that have no salt in them! It’s almost impossible. I’m

doing my best here.”

“I know. I know,” he said, and he wished she could eat all the salt in the world, but it just wasn’t safe.

She seemed like she was about to burst into tears, and he felt guilty for having ratted her out. But he also knew that if

she didn’t take care of herself, she would put herself and the baby at risk. He’d rather she be mad at him now than have a

major health issue later.

“She does pretty well, Ana. I see what she takes to school, and she’s been cooking instead of eating out. She takes her blood pressure in school and at home. She’s trying.”

“Did you know that I had preeclampsia with you?” Anabel asked Valerie. “It got really, really bad, and I had to deliver you

early, by C-section. I don’t want that to happen to you or to my granddaughter.”

“I didn’t know that,” Valerie said.

“Well, now you know. So, I get that you’re hungry and that this could be miserable, but it’s not the end of the world, and

it’ll be over before you know it.”

“Fine!” Valerie said as if she were a petulant child. “I’ll be in the kitchen cleaning up. I can’t sit and watch you two load

your bodies up with salt while I can’t eat a bite.”

“She tends to be over the top,” her mother said, and Andrew felt sorry for Valerie. It had to be difficult to watch everything

you ate and have other people tell you what to do. He wanted to go to her and hug her and tell her it would be okay, and he

almost did just that, but Ana said, “So, tell me more about yourself, Andrew.”

“Not much to tell. Born and raised in Miami. Got my master’s in education at Stanford and love teaching.”

“And how do my daughter and your baby fit into this?”

“Is this a ‘what are your intentions with my daughter’ conversation?”

“Kind of,” Anabel said. She’d stopped eating, and all her attention was on Andrew. Now he knew why Valerie had avoided Anabel. The woman was intimidating. All five-foot-one of her. Her unblinking stare penetrated deep into his soul. There was no bullshit or beating around the bush with this woman. She went straight for the jugular without any care for the repercussions. It was sobering, because she was asking what he wanted Valerie to ask. This was the conversation that he needed to revisit with his baby mama, but she refused to discuss anything that was unrelated to the baby or to work.

“I’d marry Valerie right now if she’d have me,” he admitted without any hesitation, because it was the truth.

Anabel leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. “Because you love her?”

“Because she’s having my baby. Because it’s the right thing to do. Because I want to be involved in every single aspect of

our child’s life, from the birth to the first step to everything.”

“Interesting,” she said after a moment of silently staring at him. She then pushed her chair back, stood, and began to clear

the table.

“I said something wrong, didn’t I?”

She let out a deep breath. “No, you didn’t. Not really. You said the truth, and when you say the truth it can never be the

wrong thing.”

He helped her clear the table, unsure whether Valerie could hear their conversation. “But why does it feel like the truth

is not what you wanted to hear, Ana?”

She didn’t answer; she just tipped an eyebrow up as if he was supposed to understand her meaning from just that gesture. When

she passed by him, she squeezed his shoulder. “You’re a good man, Andrew. I like you.” The way she said it sounded more like

a farewell than anything else. It certainly didn’t sound like Anabel Marquez did, in fact, like him.

“Are you okay? You’ve been quiet for the last hour,” Valerie said on the drive back home.

Andrew was not a stupid man. He knew what Anabel wanted to hear, but Andrew couldn’t lie to the woman. A few months ago he

could not stand Valerie—how could he possibly love her now?

He did like her. Hell, he liked her a lot. Eventually, he probably could love her. It was just too soon for talks about love.

This was all one big clusterfuck, and if he didn’t get his shit together, some other man was going to swoop in and live the

life he wanted to live with Valerie and their child. He should have just said what they both wanted to hear and been done

with it. Then he’d have the woman and the baby. Love would come later, after the baby was born and they started their life

together.