Chapter 14 #2
“Enough about the baby shower.” I shift the phone to my other ear to make room for Squash. She’s prowling the floor by my feet, inspecting my lap for a landing zone. “What did you do today?”
“I didn’t do much. Ran errands, mostly,” Luke says. “Went to Salem to try on twin carrying slings at that new baby store.”
“I didn’t even know they made those.”
“Neither did I. Not until I saw them online.”
Squash jumps on my lap, disgusted to find there isn’t much room. She somehow finds space and curls into a ball by my oversized bump. “Are you sure you don’t want to come over?” I prompt. “We got so much fun stuff for the girls. I’d love you to see it.”
“I wish I could. But I really want to get this dresser refinished.”
“Tonight?” I don’t know why I sound so needy. We agree it makes sense to keep space in our relationship. “The projects can’t wait until next weekend?”
Luke chuckles. “Tempting, but I’ve already put this off too long. What if the girls arrive early?”
“Bite your tongue.” From the state of my cervix—a measurement I never expected to know—my doctor believes I’ll hold out a couple more weeks. “I’m keeping these buns in the oven as long as I can.”
“Let’s hope.” There’s a hint of nervous energy in his voice. “You’re sure it’s safe to visit your dad tomorrow? I could go with you if you’re willing to wait a few days.”
“I promised I’d see him before my doctor forbids me from road-tripping.” We’ve been through this already. “Besides, Erika’s really excited for our spa date.”
“That’s great you could get an appointment on short notice.”
“It wasn’t easy. They’re not normally doing prenatal massage on Sundays, but the therapist agreed to come in.”
“On their day off?”
“I’m paying them double.” That probably wasn’t the right thing to say.
Buying special favors at the expense of a service worker’s downtime probably doesn’t sit well with Luke.
“My doctor says she’s the best in the state for prenatal massage.
The place is medically certified, and I’ll be in good hands. ”
“I’m glad you get to do it.”
“Me, too.” I know he’s worried about me making this trip. “We’ll be close to good hospitals if anything happens.”
“In Sheridan?” Luke scoffs. “That’s at least half an hour from Salem.”
Here’s my chance to tell him. To admit my dad’s transfer came through last week. That my father has already settled in at a minimum-security camp close to Joyner. I’ve opened my mouth to say it when Luke speaks again.
“It’s okay, Hazel. I don’t mean to sound like I don’t trust you. If your doctor says it’s fine, I know you’re a grown-ass woman who makes thoughtful decisions.”
That’s when I think maybe he would understand. Maybe I’m making a big deal over nothing. I remember my cousin’s response over lunch when I guiltily told her about trying to get my dad moved.
You don’t need to run those decisions by me.
You do what’s best for your branch of the family tree, Hazel.
Maybe it’s best not to tell Luke now. Once I give birth, we’ll have a long stretch of time where I won’t be able to visit my father at all.
Then, when the doctor okays it, I’m hoping to take the twins for a visit.
That’ll be a whole conversation with Luke, and I’d like to prepare.
I’ll make notes and practice beforehand.
“I sure missed you today, Haze.” His voice fills me up with a warm, golden light.
“I missed you, too.” The next words burst out of me, too fierce to hold back. “God, I love you. So much.”
“I love you, too.” He chuckles. “What brought that on?”
“I don’t know. Just thinking about how good it feels to trust you completely. To know you’re my dependable partner beyond our plan to raise babies together.” Self-consciousness seizes me when he doesn’t reply right away. “Sorry, I just—”
“Coral,” he says. “That’s a nice sea-inspired name. Or maybe Rain.”
“Luke—”
“That’s a terrible name for a girl.” His voice goes a little raspy. “I love you so much, Hazel. Sometimes I wonder if there’s any way I could possibly deserve you. If you’ll wake up one day and realize you could do so much better than a financially insecure ex-con without a college degree.”
“Don’t say that.” Tears sting my eyes. “You work for an excellent company. Besides, you’re insulting the father of my children. A man who happens to be kind and considerate and sweet and hardworking and trustworthy and—”
“Okay, okay.” He chuckles. “Now you’re giving me a big head.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Something sounds new in his voice. A height of emotion I haven’t heard before. “God, Hazel. I can’t wait to form a family with you. To raise our girls to be strong, smart, capable women like their mother.”
Blinking back tears, I stroke Squash’s sleek fur. “And I can’t wait to teach them to be honest and kind and sincere like their dad.”
“Good night, Haze,” he says with a twist in his voice. “Drive safely tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Luke. Sweet dreams.”
I hang up and crawl into bed for sweet dreams of my own. Dreams of a future with Luke and our girls.
“This is amazing.” Dad turns the cardboard pages in the kiddie book. “I can’t believe you can get something like this custom made.”
“Betsy’s Beach Reads just started offering them.” I watch as he flips through his very own copy of Numr Ne Randpa. “The artist is local, and she works with each client to come up with the story and drawings.”
He chuckles and holds up a page. “I like how she drew me as a hedgehog in a top hat.”
“And the girls are both little bunnies.” I don’t miss the faint sheen of tears in his eyes. “I’ll bring them to visit so you can read it to them.”
“Good. That’ll be good.” Wiping his eyes, Dad sets the book down. “I wish it didn’t have to be like this. No man dreams of meeting his grandbabies in prison.”
“We’ll make the best of it.” I try to come up with something cheerful to say. “At least I’m able to bring gifts now. I couldn’t have brought you a book back in medium security.”
“Small blessings,” he murmurs, clearing his throat. “How are you feeling, Honeybun?”
“Good. Really good.” I rest a hand on my belly. “Want to feel your granddaughter kick?”
My father’s eyes widen. “Really?”
“Give me your hand.” Catching my father’s wrist, I guide it to the spot where somebody’s tap dancing in utero. “They’re always really active after lunch.”
“You were the same.” His eyes fill with wonder as my belly ripples under his palm. “Your mom always wanted grilled cheese. Whenever I made it, you’d twirl around in there like you’d just won the lunchtime lottery.”
“I didn’t know that.” I swallow the lump in my throat, wishing my mother shared more stories like this. “I still love grilled cheese. But rambutan and tater tots—that’s what I’ve mostly been craving.”
Chuckling, my dad keeps his hand on my belly. He glances at the guard who stands by the window watching us. “Would they have allowed this back in medium security?”
“Probably not.” Yet another upside of having Dad transferred here. “You’ve settled in all right?”
“As well as I can.” Dad draws his hand back to the table in front of him.
His knuckles look wrinkled, and I notice some age spots that weren’t there last year.
“The bedrolls still make it feel like I’m sleeping on bricks, and the food…
” He trails off with a shudder. “Let’s just say I miss family dinner. ”
It’s been years since Dad was invited. Even before he wound up in prison, his choices forced the others to wipe his name off the guest list.
“I’ve hosted a few times now,” I say, trying to keep things cheerful. “I did Thanksgiving dinner, and last week I made this amazing pulled pork.”
Dad looks surprised. “When did you learn to make that?”
“Luke taught me.” If I float it there casually, it’s not a big deal. “I’m becoming quite the cook.”
“You don’t say.”
“Yep.” This feels awkward. I get why he might not approve of Luke.
I didn’t exactly sing his praises the day I told Dad I’m pregnant.
Since then, I’ve gently eased my father into the idea that I’m dating the ex-con father of my children.
“We bought a cookbook with recipes for making your own baby food. We did a few practice runs last week, but it’ll be awhile until the girls eat solid food. ”
“That’s nice.” The clench in his jaw says he’s got something to say.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He forces a smile. “I’m just happy to see you.”
“I’m glad to see you, too.” I wince as one of the babies whacks me in the kidney. “They’re more active than normal. Maybe they like hearing Grandpa’s voice.”
His smile seems wistful and doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Can you tell which twin it is?”
“Not really.” I chuckle. “I mean, I have my theories, but there’s no way to tell for sure. And we’re still deciding on names—”
“We?” My dad lifts a brow. “You’re letting him weigh in on their names?”
“Of course.” It’s a struggle to keep my voice light. “He’s their father. Obviously I want him to have a say.”
He sighs. “I was hoping you’d put all that behind you by now.”
“All that?” I blink. “Do you mean Luke?”
“Surely you’re not seriously planning a relationship with that man.” He frowns. “I understood your urge for the shock value, Hazel. I can even admit I deserved it. I pushed you to act out.”
I sit up straighter in my chair. “My relationship with Luke doesn’t concern you.”
“This is about your children, Hazel—my grandchildren. Our own flesh and blood.” He shakes his head sadly. “You’re a smart woman. I assume you’ve drawn up appropriate legal paperwork to ensure you have sole custody of the children.”
I open my mouth to retort that only a heartless bitch would do something like that.
But isn’t that exactly what I did?
“Things are different,” I say, skirting the question. “I wasn’t planning to get romantically involved with Luke, but he proved himself.”