Chapter 4 #2
And as he settled back against the pillows he figured he didn’t need to tell his folks about Gen.
It was unlikely they’d see each other anyway, especially as he bet Gen would go out of her way to avoid seeing them if at all possible.
But would the same hold true for him, too?
Was the pain from the past insurmountable so she’d go out of her way to avoid him, and he’d never see her again?
* * *
Sunday off was such a rare phenomenon that Gen would love nothing more than to snuggle into her bed all day and catch up on all the missing hours of the past week.
Or attempt to catch up, anyway. Make a start, at least. Her shifts had been a little changeable lately, her contract seeing eighteen or so shifts a month, but somehow she’d been rostered on every Sunday. Until today, anyway.
She stretched, yawning, as sunshine slipped past the curtains to pool on the carpeted floor.
Then the door opened, and she braced as a rocket propelled from the door.
“Mommy!”
She opened her arms and Bella dove in, snuggling against her side.
Gen closed her eyes, breathing in the soft scent of baby shampoo which Mom still insisted on buying for Bella to use, saying she loved the fragrance.
And yes, there was something comforting about the scent of simpler times, even if those times of a newborn hadn’t felt easy or simple at all.
Gen balancing studies with pregnancy then a newborn had seen Mom enter tigress mode, stepping into mothering tiny Bella so Gen could use her brains and focus on fulfilling the requirements of the scholarship that would see them escape the trailer she’d grown up in.
She drew Bella closer, marveling that she still let her. Their closeness felt like a privilege, even more so as Gen’s shifts meant that often days could pass without them really talking.
“How was school this week?”
Bella explained about a science experiment involving balloons she enjoyed, and a ping of pride released within at how her daughter seemed to hold similar interests to Gen’s own at that age.
It wasn’t pride to know your child was smart.
Bella’s teachers all agreed that she was made for great things.
Even if some of Bella’s classmates didn’t understand why she wasn’t interested in spending hours painting her nails or fixing her hair.
“I’m so proud of you,” she murmured.
Bella sighed. “Jake was picking on me again.”
Bless him. “Hmm, he’s probably jealous. Wishes he had your brains.”
Bella’s dark-gold head nodded. “That’s what Monique said. Boys can be so weird.”
“True.”
Her mind flicked to another girl who had been targeted for her smarts.
Until an unlikely ally rose, his own smarts hidden by more apparent skills in the sporting arena.
And because he was well-liked, rich and strong, nobody had dared picked on her again.
They’d stayed friends through the rest of middle school, then throughout high school, when their friendship had bloomed into deeper affection.
Until, in senior year, it had ripened into desperate passion at graduation, when the looming specter of separation caused by scholarships and NHL drafts had meant they’d be forced apart.
“Mom?”
“Sorry. Tell me more.”
As Bella continued chatting, Gen silently exhaled, forcing her thoughts elsewhere, forcing her body to relax.
One of Bella’s many gifts was her sensitivity to Gen’s moods, and hence was quick to pick up when Gen was stressed.
That was probably what happened when three women—well, two women and one girl—shared a house for so many years.
Mom had long been attuned to Gen’s emotions, more clued in than Gen was herself, and had even suspected that Gen was pregnant before Gen herself had known.
She’d sometimes wondered what it would be like to be more independent, but knew she couldn’t have achieved her medical dream without her mother’s constant support.
And for as long as Bella needed a steadying presence at home and Mom was happy to play that part, Gen was happy to let sleeping dogs lie.
Which meant there was zero chance she’d tell Mom about the man she’d treated at hospital last night.
Not when he was the person Mom blamed for having upended their life.
It felt like a gift from the universe to not have to go in today.
After years of suppressing the guilt, to see him last night had been like a red-hot poker thrust through her heart.
She didn’t want to see him and somehow accidentally spill the truth of what she’d done.
Neither did she want to run the risk of seeing his parents and deal with their snobby ways.
And while she’d made a habit of overcoming her fears to stop avoiding people, sometimes discretion was the better part of valor.
Which meant avoiding certain scenarios and certain people was best for all concerned.
“Mom?” Bella wriggled. “You’re holding me too tight.”
“Sorry.” She loosened her hold. “Better?”
“Yeah.”
“So, what are you wanting to do today?” Days together felt like rare gems. But she bet Bella would start by saying—
“Can we have choc-chip pancakes?”
Gen laughed. “Of course we can.” Even if Mom objected.
Sure enough, fifteen minutes later when Gen and Bella were whipping up the pancake batter, Mom objected.
“You know too much junk food is bad for her brain.” Mom’s hands were on her hips.
“Mmm, how much junk food have you had this week, Bella?” Gen asked.
“Nothing. Not even a single choc-chip,” Bella owned, misery in her tone.
“So it’s unlikely that her brain will rot by having these pancakes, Mom.”
Mom sniffed. “Back when you were a child, I made sure you never ate anything processed, if I could avoid it.”
Hmm. Not how she remembered things, but okay. “We are allowed to have some fun occasionally, Mom.”
“Hmph.”
Gen swapped quick grins with Bella as Mom moved to the coffee maker. Usually caffeine—Mom’s one vice—helped Mom gain more perspective for the day. Gen didn’t love coffee, but could appreciate its perk-up ability, but too much left her feeling anxious and jittery.
The day passed as most of her days off did, doing laundry, catching up on study, juggling finances to pay bills, meal prepping for the week ahead.
Mom’s work as a cleaner meant she was often able to juggle what days she worked, so between them they managed Bella’s school hours and appointments okay.
And that was great. Their tight-knit unit of three didn’t need another person to disrupt their equilibrium.
Everything was okay. Everything would be okay.
Provided Kyle never found out about the daughter she’d been too scared to tell him about, sure that would result in Kyle’s parents insisting on taking her baby away.
And provided Mom never learned that Kyle was in the area.