Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
CAITLIN
Iwoke alone, but I could hear noises from the kitchen below me.
Brian was up. I should be too, but Aurora had told me not to come in as early today.
I snuggled under the blankets and looked around Brian’s room.
Since we’d started sleeping together, I spent most nights here in bed with him, and I had to admit that I liked being in his space, smelling the scent of his aftershave on the pillow.
Being close to him was appealing, even though our relationship wasn’t without its problems.
The day before hadn’t gone so well. It had hurt more than I’d expected to see my father for the first time in almost five years and discover that he couldn’t be bothered to put down his damn phone long enough to actually see me.
The situation hadn’t been helped by Brian leaving and not coming back until that evening.
To keep myself from dwelling on my growing anxiety, I’d watched a favorite movie, sketched tattoo designs to add to my portfolio, and tried to nap.
I’d been unable to rest, so I’d prowled around his house, worrying about our future.
When he got home, he’d apologized for being away so long, and I thought that he genuinely meant it.
But being sorry didn’t mean he actually intended to change his behavior.
He would always go if he was needed. It was a trait I’d admire if it didn’t take him away from me so much.
“Breakfast,” he said and nudged the bedroom door open. “I thought you’d like to eat up here.” He carried a tray with orange juice, coffee, and a covered dish.
“That’s sweet of you.” I propped myself up against the headboard.
“Least I could do,” he said. “I’m still sorry about yesterday.”
“Stop worrying about it,” I said trying to smile. He’d told me about the baby shower that his mother planned to throw for me, and I had to admit that I was excited about it. “What’s under the lid? Something delicious?”
He put the tray on my lap and removed the cover. The smell of eggs hit me squarely in the face and my stomach turned over. Nausea like I’d never known rose in me.
“Oh, no,” I whispered, putting one hand over my mouth and shoving the tray aside with the other.
I dove out of bed and rushed for the bathroom, making it to the toilet just in time.
An instant later, Brian was with me. He knelt behind me, holding me and rubbing my back as I vomited.
He talked to me continuously, soothing words that comforted me.
“I guess that’s morning sickness finally kicking in,” I said a few minutes later, leaning against the bathtub, the cool porcelain against my back.
“Seems so,” he said. “Close your eyes and take some deep breaths through your nose.”
I did as he said and felt a damp washcloth wipe over my face and down my neck. It felt refreshing on my overheated skin. My stomach started to calm.
“I’m sorry about ruining breakfast.” I could hardly think about the food.
“I’m the one who’s sorry.” He was rocked back on his heels in front of me, his expression worried. “I didn’t realize it would bother you.”
“Me either.” I tried for a smile. “I usually love eggs, but apparently not while pregnant.”
“I’ll remember that,” he said. “Can I get you something else? Some toast? Water? My mom gave me some different teas for you to try. I think there’s ginger and peppermint.”
“Nothing yet.” I ran one hand over my stomach. “Maybe in a few minutes.” Peppermint tea sounded good but I’d never been a huge fan of ginger and wasn’t sure how that would go down.
“Stay here and rest. I’m going to take the food downstairs and get rid of it. Don’t try to move until I come back.” He kissed my forehead and left the bathroom.
I heard him enter the bedroom before heading back downstairs. Feeling a little better, I sat on the rim of the tub. Despite his warning, I was considering standing up when I heard his phone ring and his muffled voice speaking. His steps became more determined as he came back to me.
“You need to leave,” I guessed as soon as I saw the look on his face. Clearly the station had called, and he was itching to be at work.
“Only if you’re okay,” he said. I believed that he’d stay if I insisted, but it would kill him to hang back when there was obviously a problem at work.
“I think I’ll go back to bed for an hour.” I had time for a nap before getting ready for work.
“I’ll help you get settled in.” He came closer to me.
“Not necessary.” I waved him off when he reached for my arm as I stood. “I’m fine. Really.”
He hesitated while I moved across the bathroom to the sink and reached for my toothbrush.
“I’ll see you later then.” He came to me and brushed his lips against my cheek. Then he was gone.
I shook my head as I caught my reflection in the mirror. That was twice in twenty-four hours that he’d dashed off like something was on fire. Could the town not function without his constant vigilance? Apparently not.
Maybe the universe was trying to send me a sign that read You will always be second in his life.
After a nap and a slice of dry toast, I felt better and headed for work. I arrived in the midst of the morning breakfast rush and jumped in to help Aurora. Fortunately, the smell of the food didn’t bother me now, so I was able to work my tables without rushing to the bathroom.
“We heard the good news about the baby.” An older woman, who came in twice a week with her husband, said while I was refilling her coffee. “Congratulations!”
“Um…thanks,” I responded. Did everyone know? I supposed they did because nothing was ever a secret for long in this town. Between our shopping trip yesterday and Aurora buying a pregnancy test at the drugstore, word must have spread.
“Make sure you don’t stay on your feet too long, and get plenty of rest,” the woman said with a smile.
“I’ll do that,” I replied before moving on to the next table.
In the next half hour, three more people congratulated me.
A woman offered advice about which infant car seat was best, and another suggested a book I might want to read.
All of them seemed genuinely nice and concerned for me without the slightest bit of judgment.
That wasn’t what I’d expected. I was single and pregnant in a town that valued family and tradition.
And what surprised me even more was that no one made it about Brian.
They focused on me as though they cared about me.
“Mitch Alistair wanted me to give this to you. He wouldn’t leave it on the table because he was too concerned that his brother, Charles, would take it.” Aurora handed me a folded twenty-dollar bill when we were prepping for lunch. “He said it was for the baby and it was from him only.”
“He never tips.” I was shocked. Neither of them did. I’d waited on the perpetually grouchy twin brothers since I first worked here in high school, and neither of them ever left me even a quarter.
“People can be kind when you least expect it.” Aurora smiled. “And everyone loves a baby. Enjoy it.”
“I will.” I tucked the cash in my apron pocket, feeling surprisingly good about humanity and the citizens of Poplar Springs. Maybe I’d misjudged this town.
“Uh oh,” Aurora said with a glance behind me. “Your mom just showed up.”
“Crap,” I whispered, and then decided that my mom wasn’t going to rain on my parade. I spun around and went to greet her with a smile on my face. “Mother, I wasn’t expecting you in today.”
“I was hoping we could talk.” My mother’s smile held more warmth than I had ever seen directed at me. “Any chance you’re free for a few minutes?”
“Take a break and sit down with your mom,” Aurora said as she came up behind me. “We’ve got some time before the serious lunch rush.”
“Thanks. Do you want coffee, Mom?” I offered.
“That would be nice.”
I seated my mother in the last booth and went to get two mugs of coffee—decaf for me, because I knew Brian would say that was best. I dumped creamer in mine but knew my mother, always conscious of her figure, would take it black.
“First,” my mother said as soon as I sat down, “I wanted to say that I’m sorry for being so brusque with you when you came to town. I really was happy to have you home, but it didn’t come out right. I…well, we’ve always struggled to communicate well.”
Not once in my life had I received an apology from my mother.
This was a different side of her, and I wasn’t sure I could trust it.
I felt my guard go up but fought against it.
I’d had a great morning, basking in people’s kindness, so I tried to channel some of that optimism toward my relationship with my mother.
“I heard about the baby,” she continued. “Your father mentioned something when he got home yesterday, but like a man, he didn’t get any details.”
I wanted to tell her that he hadn’t even acknowledged my announcement, but I didn’t want to be accused of picking a fight. “I wasn’t sure he even heard me,” I admitted.
“He did, but you know how he is, so absorbed in his business dealings.” She made a little waving motion with her hand. “Everyone’s talking about the baby today, so it must be common knowledge.”
“Seems to be,” I said. I doubted there was anyone left in town who didn’t know. I half-expected a rebuke that my mother hadn’t been the first person told, so her next words surprised me.
“I’m excited about my first grandchild,” she said. “And I want to help you if I can.”
What was this? Had my mother really just offered to help? I felt my defenses rise again, but I tamped them down. Maybe grandchildren really did change things, and my mother would make the baby a priority in a way she never had with me.
“I’d appreciate that,” I said.
My mother smiled, seeming pleased, and even reached across the table to squeeze my hand. “We’ll want to make a list of everything you’ll need. Maybe you and Brian could come to dinner some evening.”