Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
“ A re you sure you want to rent the apartment upstairs?” I asked Trixy a week later as she sat behind the reception desk of my salon.
Matt’s cousin, Finn, was taking over his apartment and letting Aidan stay with him. They’d been crashing at his uncle’s house, who was more than happy to have them, but family was family. They knew Matt needed help, so they jumped in, no questions asked.
I didn’t have that luxury.
Trixy nodded, and her bleach blonde pigtails bounced. “My parents are sick of having me live with them. Failure to launch, and all that.” She laughed. “And since it’s only for one year, it’s a great trial run for me to see what it’s like totally adulting on my own. I’m not gonna lie…I’m kinda nervous.”
Trixy was in her late twenties, definitely not a kid anymore. She was a whiz at computers but pretty much clueless about everything else. Her parents had always helped her manage—more like taken over—everything else, but now they were ready for her to leave the nest and start her own life. I couldn’t blame them, but I could also sympathize with her. I lived with my Grammy until I was in my mid-twenties, then went out on my own. I didn’t regret anything except getting married.
But I never made the same mistake twice.
“You’ll do great.” I patted her hand. “Speaking of adulting, I have to finish packing. I’m not gonna lie…I’m not gonna miss climbing those stairs.” I winked.
Trixy laughed. “I think it’s great that you and Mr. McGinnis are moving in together. He’s so hot.”
“It’s not like that between us.” I sighed.
Here we go. It was only a matter of time before the rumor mill started, and Trixy wasn’t the first. Tongues had been wagging since the moment we signed on the dotted line to rent the ranch.
Her face puckered up. “But aren’t you having his babies?”
And there it was.
I inhaled and counted to ten. “Yes, but we’re not a couple.”
“If you say so.” Her eyes twinkled.
I rolled mine. “We’re moving in together to co-parent, that’s all.”
“That’s good. I’m glad you’ll have someone to help you. Twins are a lot, and Matt’s like…huge.”
In more ways than one, I thought. “You have no idea.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, my God, I can’t imagine giving birth to one—let alone two—of his babies.” She shuddered.
“You and me both.” I could feel my anxiety heighten just thinking about it.
Trixy’s gaze landed on me as realization dawned. “Oh, I’m so sorry. You’ll be fine, I’m sure. Good childbearing hips, and all.”
Well, that certainly didn’t make me feel any better.
I was officially four months and so not feeling fabulous to begin with. My hips were definitely starting to widen as my organs shifted around to make room for the Sasquatch twins. Damn Zoe for giving me a book on what to expect while I was expecting.
I’d come to the conclusion there were some things I just didn’t want to know.
“I mean…” Trixy’s face looked stricken.
“It’s okay, really.” I slowed my breathing and forced those terrifying thoughts from my mind. “The apartment will be ready for you in a few days.”
“Sounds good. I don’t have much to pack since you’re leaving the place furnished. Thank you for that.”
“Matt and I both decided we would leave our personal things at our own apartments and just pick up new things together for our shared space. We’re each just bringing along the essentials and a few favorite items. Nothing crazy, just enough to get by while we figure out how to raise twins together. This is a trial run for us as well.”
“Well, that’s smart. I promise to take good care of your things while you’re away playing house.” She smiled wide.
“I wouldn’t have asked you if I thought otherwise.” I winked. “Well, I guess I’d better head to Maple Ridge Market. I have literally no food in my refrigerator, and these babies can eat.”
“I bet.” Trixy chuckled. “I’ll hold down the fort here. Lucy and Maxim are booked solid, but the rest of your day is free. Enjoy it.”
“Thanks, Trixy. What would I do without you?”
“Nothing, because you’re never getting rid of me.” She winked back.
I headed out the door and ran into Truman Winters, ambling down the street with his mailbag, just as he arrived at my mailbox.
“Hi, Truman. Any rain in the forecast?” I looked at the clear blue sky, knowing that didn’t matter one bit. Truman was the real weather predictor.
“Oh, there’s a storm a brewin’, but it ain’t in the form of rain.” He pushed his coke-bottle glasses back up his nose and looked at me with sympathy.
What now?
His voice sounded so serious; I was almost afraid to ask. After an awkward moment of silence, I tilted my head. “How do you mean?”
He handed me a certified letter.
I groaned. No words were necessary.
Since our divorce five years ago, Bud had sued me at least once a year. Sometimes he used a service that gave me the court papers in a manilla envelope. Other times he went the cheaper route and sent a certified letter through the mail carrier.
Bud couldn’t get over me being the one to leave him. His ego was too big for that. So now all he wanted to do was get back at me any chance he could.
“Sorry, Tiffany, but looks like you’ve been served again.” Truman shook his head as he handed me a pen, and I signed for the letter.
If I didn’t sign, the letter would be returned to Bud, and he would have to start over. But that would just delay the inevitable, so why bother? He wouldn’t go away. He never did. I couldn’t take much more of this, and now I had a family to think about. I was sick of his lies and games.
I had to find a way to prove he was a fraud for good this time.
“It’s okay.” I patted the mail carrier’s arm. “You’re just doing your job. All Bud cares about is winning, but the fool never does.”
And I wasn’t about to let him this time.
After storing the letter in my apartment, I headed to Maple Ridge Market.
Looked like I wasn’t the only one who didn’t like to cook. The place was busy with a bunch of people picking up something for dinner, judging by the amount of people in front of the meals-to-go counter.
Zoe had offered to teach me how to cook. I was thinking more and more about taking her up on it. After all, I had more than myself to think about these days. Every time I thought about becoming a mother, I was terrified.
What if I was horrible at it?
Yes, Grammy raised me, but she wasn’t exactly the motherly type. I’d never had that. I knew she loved me, but her staff did most of the mothering. Honestly, even though I had the money for it, I wasn’t sure I wanted that for my children.
Deciding to be better at this, I turned my cart around and headed to the produce section. At least I knew how to make a salad. I would start by feeding myself, and hopefully by the time the twins were born, I would be better at feeding them home-cooked meals.
All of a sudden, my stomach fluttered.
I jerked to a halt. Was that hunger pains?
I felt it again on the other side. Oh, God, was I going into premature labor? I started breathing faster but couldn’t quite get enough air. I’d never planned to have children, had never really wanted any, and now I couldn’t imagine not having them in my life.
How could I have grown to love human beings I hadn’t even met yet? I bent over my cart and kept trying to suck in breath. I was going to lose my babies and then die right here in the middle of Maple Ridge Market.
That would certainly give this town something to talk about.
Everything started to darken. I was about to pass out. Suddenly, I felt a presence.
A gentle voice beside me said, “Take slow deep breaths,” as they held a paper bag in front of my face. I took it and focused on breathing into it as they rubbed my back soothingly.
I blinked the tears from my eyes. Rita?
I looked to the side and sure enough, my mother stood there calmly but firmly, and I did as I was told without question, feeling comforted almost immediately. Several minutes later, my breathing returned to normal, and she pulled the bag away.
“Better?” Her eyes were filled with understanding and kindness.
Her short blonde hair was mixed with gray in a simple, stylish cut, and she wore a blue sundress, a shade paler than her periwinkle eyes. She was nothing like Grammy had described. I didn’t know what to think anymore. She looked innocent and sweet, and since I’d met her, she’d been nothing but kind.
And it confused the hell out of me.
“Yes, much,” I finally responded.
“Good. Let’s sit on this bench for a bit just to be sure you’re okay.” She led me and my cart to a bench along the wall by the lottery ticket machines.
I stifled a hysterical giggle.
Who would have thought my mother showing up would be my lucky day? I looked down at my stomach, feeling what she must have felt forty years ago when she was pregnant with me and Tabatha. I felt connected to her, and I didn’t want to. Or did I?
I just didn’t know what I wanted anymore.
It felt like a betrayal to Grammy if I allowed myself to have a relationship with my parents and sister, but was it really? Did Grammy lie to me for my entire life? If that were true, that would be my breaking point.
“Thank you.” My voice was barely more than a whisper as it pushed its way past the lump in my throat.
“You’re very welcome. I’m just glad I was here to help.” She studied me carefully. “Do you mind if I ask what happened?”
“I think you’ve earned that right.” I paused a beat. “I’m not really sure what happened. I thought I was having hunger pains, but then I realized it was lower than my stomach. Little flutters like butterfly wings. I panicked and thought I was going into early labor. According to my book, they would never survive.”
“How far along are you?” She leaned in like she was really listening to me, like she actually wanted to know and cared about what I had to say. Not like someone who was only after Grammy’s money.
“Sixteen weeks,” I answered.
Her entire face softened as she said with tenderness, “You were feeling your babies move for the first time.”
I gasped and stared down in wonder. “That’s what it feels like? Butterflies dancing in my stomach?”
She nodded slowly and lightly laughed.
I ran my hand over my silk maternity shirt. “With Matt as the father, I figured it would feel more like a rugby team running a play when they moved.”
“Just wait, dear.” She patted my hand, and this time, my heart fluttered.
I frowned and cleared my throat. “I can’t wait to tell Matt.” That made me frown harder. Where had that come from, and why was I being so sentimental today? I blamed it on the hormones.
“He won’t be able to feel them through your stomach just yet. Closer to twenty weeks, he should be able to.” Her lips tipped up at the corners as she looked off, remembering. “Your father was in such awe the first time he felt you and your sister move.”
Not enough to keep me , I thought, but remained silent.
“He actually cried.” Her smile faded. “The only other time I saw him cry was when we lost you.”
My heart pinched. Nope, I couldn’t go there yet. I didn’t know if I ever could.
“Well,” I stood, “thank you again for your help. I really need to finish my grocery shopping and get back to packing.”
Shoot . I squeezed my eyes closed for a second. I hadn’t meant to say that part out loud, but she probably knew about my new living arrangements already anyway, given this town’s rumor mill.
She stood but didn’t comment on it, and her smile shined a little less brightly this time.
“You’re very welcome, Tiffany. I’m always glad to help in any way I can. I mean that.” Her gaze met mine and held as she spoke with sincerity. “We’re not far away. Just on the edge of town in a small house on a plot of land. It’s not much, but it suits us. We rarely used to come into town before, but now, well, you’ll see us around a lot more.” She nodded with conviction. “Your father and I are here for you if you need us, and so is your sister.”
“Been there, done that. Didn’t work out so well,” I blurted before I could stop myself, then let out a frustrated huff.
“Give her time.”
“I’ve given her forty years. I gave you all more than enough time. What more do you want from me?” My voice was a little harsher than I had intended.
Rita nodded, clearly unable to speak as her eyes welled up with tears. She looked like a wounded bird as she handed me a note and waved goodbye, hurrying out of the store to Charlie, who was waiting by the curb in an old, rusted pickup truck.
I sighed, feeling like the bad guy for the first time.
Dammit! Since when was any of this my fault? It hadn’t been my fault before, but was it my fault now? I was a grown woman. I did have the power to make my own choices and change the course of my life if I wanted to.
It was all too much.
I opened the note. It had all of their cell phone numbers, their addresses, and said, We love you. Please just give us a chance to make up for the past .
Well, hell.