The baby book I read yesterday kept talking about what my partner should be helping me with, and I’m longing for this partner that I’ve never even had in my life. I was too busy building a nest egg that I never planned on a future.
Nate’s phone buzzes. He growls and asks if he could use my computer.
“Of course,” I respond. “I’ll take a shower and while you’re working, I’ll drive up to my parents.”
“Why don’t I take you?” he asks, his focus is on the computer.
“Because you’re working, and I think it’ll be best if it’s just them and me,” I say but then rectify when I picture my parents smothering me with hugs and attacking me with all kinds of questions. “You know what, you’re right. You should come with me.”
He stops typing and lifts his gaze. His blue piercing eyes stare at me. “Why?”
“You might be able to help me dodge a few questions,” I answer. “Let’s say I’m using you as a shield.”
He smirks. “Bring on the Brassards. I can take them.”
My God, if this wasn’t so strange and unreal I’d say that he’s beyond perfect. Every guy I’ve dated ran scared when they met my parents. This guy saw them having sex, and he hasn’t complained after the incident. He’s even willing to come with me even when they might probably get a million times more weird after I give them the news.
I look up to the ceiling and send up a thought, couldn’t you have sent him a few years ago?
When we arrive at my parents’ house, Mom holds my arms carefully and studies my face. “We should take you to the doctor. At this point, you should be taking prenatal vitamins.”
I laugh and roll my eyes. I haven’t even told them about the baby, and she’s already giving me advice. Thank goodness she doesn’t have any baby clothes, or she’ll be giving them to me along with the suggestion of a few names and…I should run now before it’s too late.
Dad asks, “Are you okay?”
“I’ve been better,” I answer.
Nate squeezes my hand and whispers, “It’s okay. I’ll deflect as much as I can.”
With that reassurance, I enter the house.
“Nathaniel, what a surprise,” Mom greets him. “I thought you were in New York.”
“I’m on my way to Seattle, but I decided to stop by to check on Nyx,” he answers.
“You’re a good kid. She’s been avoiding me since Monday. I’m surprised she came to visit us,” Mom complains.
“I’m right here, Mom,” I sneer. I hate when she talks about me in the third person as if I’m not nearby.
“Yes, you are,” Mom concedes glancing at me again and sighing dramatically. “Should I sit down?”
“Let’s save the dramatics, Mom,” I suggest. “When are you going back to work?”
“Next week,” she says. “And I’m glad you’re here because we’re working on a book proposal and I need you to help me.”
“You mean pretend I’m your agent,” I correct her, almost wondering if I should say yes but only if I get a small cut from their profits.
“Yes, you did it for Persy. I’m sure you can do it for us,” she says. “Now tell me what’s happening. You’ve been absent for three days, which means you’ve been plotting something and it’s time for the big reveal.”
Dad laughs and Nate joins.
“I’m glad my life gives you comedic relief,” I say unamused.
“It’s not funny that my kid doesn’t need me as much, but we’ve learned to take it lightly,” she confesses. “I’d like to be a part of the important decisions you make in life. But for some reason, you never take us into consideration.”
“You raised pretty independent children, Mom.”
“I’ll subscribe to that answer even when we both know it’s a bunch of bologna.”
She’s probably wrong, it might be a combination of both. They taught us how to be responsible, to take charge of our own lives, and to trust our instincts—not that our instinct is always right. There’s the part where they can be overwhelming, and their ideas don’t always fit into the real world.
“So, what is it?” she asks.
“I got fired on Tuesday,” I begin the conversation and tell them what happened on Monday.
They’ve known that things haven’t been going well at work since May when Pierce hinted he’d be quitting the firm and leaving the state. The day he left, things just went from bad to worse, and here I am, unemployed.
“What can we do?” she asks.
“Well...since I’m selling my house, I might need to stay with you guys for a while,” I answer, wondering if this is a good time to throw in the baby or if waiting until next year might be for the best.
Dad frowns, but remains quiet, observing me.
“But you love that house,” Mom states.
“It’s lovely, but I can’t afford it, and the schools in that district are… I prefer to look for something in a different district.”
She arches an eyebrow. “I was right.”
“Yes, Mom, you were right. I’m pregnant,” I concede, waiting for her to say something else, but as it’s expected from her, she hugs me.
“My baby is going to be a mom,” she repeats excitedly.
Suddenly, she’s crying and then, I’m crying. This time I’m not sure why or if it’s contagious, like yawning.
“Are you happy?” she asks, clearing my tears with the back of her hand.
“I’m getting used to the idea. It hasn’t sunk in yet,” I explain instead of saying I feel like a bad mother for not having any emotion whatsoever about the baby.
She smiles and says, “It won't be until you have everything in place. You lead with logic. What about the father?”
I brief her about Edward.
“What can I do for you?” Mom asks.
“Your love, that’s all I need, Mom.”
She hugs me, “Everything will be fine. I’m here for you and the room is ready for whenever you want to move in with us, and you can stay for as long as you need.”
“I’m going to be a grandfather,” Dad says, taking me into his arms. “Finally, one of my children is willing to give me a grandchild. But I don’t see anyone congratulating me.”
“Congrats, Grandpa,” I say, hugging him back.
“I feel sorry for the others to come, because the first one is always the favorite,” he whispers, but it’s obvious that Mom can hear him because she protests, “We don’t play favorites, Octavio.”
Nate looks at me and smiles but stays quiet, just observing the scene developing in front of him. I’m just hoping that this is as far as they get, but I’m wrong because Mom starts, well, being Mom.
“We have to schedule a doctor’s appointment as soon as possible. On second thought, you should move in with us today. We’ll have to push the project for our book for next year,” she doesn’t even stop to take a breath. “Get the list of names, Octavio. We have so much to do. I think this one could be Hera.”
They start throwing names, possible middle names, and even the idea of Dad building the baby’s crib. I search for Nate’s gaze but he’s staring at my parents either highly entertained or terrified. When he finally looks at me, I try to desperately say, take me away from these people.
“It’s time for us to leave, Nyx,” Nate finally speaks with a firm voice that freezes my parents.
“You’re not staying for lunch?” Mom asks.
“The plane is waiting for us, and we still have to go to her house to pick up Brock,” he lies. He had someone come to my place to pick him up before we drove to my parents, and they’ll be meeting him at the airport. “She’s had a hard week, and I thought it’d be good for her to take a break before she embarks on motherhood.”
“When will you be back?” Mom asks but doesn’t give me time to answer. “We’ll see you on Sunday. Won’t we?”
“I’ll call you,” I answer.
“Do you need us to pack your things?” Dad asks.
“I have pe
ople in charge of the task, Mr. Brassard,” Nate explains.
“Call me Octavio,” he corrects Nate. “I appreciate your help, but I’d rather take care of my kid.”
“Which is respectable, but Demetri has been working on the details all morning. I’ll give him your number in case he needs help.”
Dad glares at him and then says, “Your seltzer won’t be ready until tomorrow.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll have Demetri stop by to pick it up,” Nate offers.
“Be careful with what you’re doing,” Dad warns him.
“Of course, sir.” He turns to look at me. “Ready to go?”
“Yes,” I say, hugging my parents.
“When will you be back?” Mom questions.
“Soon. It’s just a couple of days,” I answer, but maybe I should stay with Nate until the baby is born, and then they can focus just on that poor little creature.
I look again at my parents, and I can’t understand why they are so excited and full of love for this baby. While I’m still trying to warm up to the idea that I’m going to become a mom.
Twenty
Nate
It’s safe to say that I have no fucking idea what I’m doing. None whatsoever.
“You do realize that now I have to go with you,” Nyx says as I’m driving toward the airport. “Or find alternative accommodations for the time being. If Persy was here…”
Didn’t we agree she’d be coming with me? I had my people drop by her house earlier to pick up Brock and her belongings so they can set them up on the plane.
“We had agreed that you’d be coming with me,” I remind her.
“No, I said I would think about it,” she enunciates her words. “There was no yes implied. I’m not going with you.”
“If not my house, then where will you stay?” I ask, more like challenge her. “D is coming in tomorrow, and I wasn’t lying when I said he’s been working on this project all morning. Your house will be empty by tomorrow night, and a cleaning crew arrives on Saturday morning. Are you going back to your parents?”
She makes a strange noise which sounds between a wounded puppy and an angry lion. “I feel like you pushed me to go to Seattle with you.”
“No,” I claim. That’d be really stupid.
And still, here you are, you fucking idiot.
When it comes to Nyx, I jump headfirst without thinking; and I just met her. There are several questions I’ve been asking myself since I arrived in Colorado yesterday afternoon. I haven't found an answer to any of them, yet.
Why the fuck am I here? happens to be the most important of them all. Followed by my favorite, Are you out of your fucking mind?
She’s a complication with complications of her own. I don’t like children, and she’s about to have one. I’m still attracted to her, maybe even more than I was the first time I met her. That kiss we shared keeps playing in my mind—on repeat. Yesterday I didn’t kiss her when I had her in my arms because she seemed to be vulnerable, and after she delivered her news, well…I should be jumping on a plane to the other side of the world and staying there at least until the kid turns eighteen.
“How bad will it be if I stay with my parents starting tomorrow?” she asks and then leans against the seat making whimpering noises. “I love them, but I don’t think I can bear to be with them while I’m still trying to get used to the idea of having a baby. But…I should just live with them. Right?”
What does she want from me? Staying with her parents is a sensible option. In fact, that could be the solution to her current situation. I should stay quiet. I should just drop her at home and run far, far away.
I don’t do any of those, and contrary to what logic dictates, I answer, “Do you think that’s the solution to your problem?” I question and then respond automatically, “I doubt it. You might be upset, but think about what I just did for you.”
“Excuse me?” she asks appalled. “You did what for me?”
“I saved you from naming the poor baby Artemis, Hephaetus, or Hera if it’s a girl.”
“Hephaestus,” she corrects me. “He’s the god of fire. Son of Hera and Zeus. That’s a—”
“Don’t lie to yourself. With all due respect to the Greek mythology, it sounds like Heffalump,” I point out and she laughs. “You know I am right.”
“Still, I’m not sure if I should be going with you.”
“So, you plan on lying to your parents and living under a bridge so they can’t find you?” I ask, picturing her living in their shed at night to avoid them and then going into the house during the day while they are at work.
Honestly, I don’t like the picture. She’ll be better at my house where she can use any of the guest rooms. I can set up a desk in the loft area, and if she’s bored, she can use the pool. Brock can use the company—he’d love to have her around.
“Think about what’s best for the baby. You love your parents and they are looking after you, but...do you think you can deal with morning sickness, mood swings, and them at the same time?”
“You are a pushy man,” she grunts.
“No, I’m right,” I argue.
“Maybe,” she grunts.
“Let’s go then?”
“Fine, but you’re going to have to deal with a puke-y, unattractive roommate.”
“Yes, but he’s a great dog, and you’ll be watching over him, won’t you?”
She laughs and the magical sound makes me forget all the doubts and the questions I had before. This is going to be okay.
Before we leave for Seattle, we stop at a Greek restaurant nearby Centennial airport to have lunch. Unfortunately, Nyx pukes right as we enter, and we flee the joint as soon as the owner offers to clean for us.
We stop by a smoothie place where she washes up and I buy her a few drinks and a parfait. There has to be something that she can eat at least until we arrive home. During our flight to Seattle, Nyx falls asleep and it gives me plenty of time to work. She’s pretty self-sufficient, but I’d rather hang around her during her first day at home. I don’t even know how long she plans on staying.
At any rate, she can live with me for as long as she wants to. It won’t be easy, but I’ll convince her to stay with us for at least a month. The house is big enough for a family of six. We can share and not even worry about cramping each other while working. I can take care of her while she’s pregnant.
Wait a second, is this some kind of savior complex?
Shaking my head, I answer automatically, no, she doesn’t need rescuing.
Nyx already has a plan, and it’s a lot better than sticking the baby to her rich boyfriend and hoping she never gets caught. Fucking Bronwyn. I think she left me bitter.
On second thought, my reaction to Nyx’s pregnancy was a lot better than my reaction to my ex. I run a hand through my hair and let out a harsh breath. It feels like it was just yesterday when I arrived from a trip, I drove to Bronwyn’s house and as she opened the door she said, “We’re expecting a baby.”
It felt surreal, and I was quiet for several minutes while I digested the news. Of course, my timing was terrible because after a long silence tears rolled down her cheeks.
“I knew it. You don’t want us,” she declared between sobs.
My immediate reaction was to hug her and tell her we’d get married and be a happy family. In retrospect, I think she said it to make sure I didn’t ask questions. Not that I’d doubted her. After all, according to what we had established from the beginning, we were in a committed, monogamous relationship.
She was my world and having Wyatt became our dream. A dream she pushed so hard I couldn't imagine my life without him. The same dream she snatched abruptly away after tangling me in her web of deceit.
I should let him go. Stop holding onto a kid that’ll never be mine, harboring the same amount of hate and love for a woman that might not have loved me at all, and wondering why I wasn’t enough for my mother to at least call me on my birthday. It’s starting to affect me m
ore than I ever imagined.
I should be a lot more like Nyx and analyze everything that happens in my life before I take a step. Keep my heart and my life out of reach of everyone. Then, I’d be fucking Ford.
Is this why I’m trying to be a part of the Brassards? Because I’m afraid that Ford, the only person who I can trust, might be leaving me behind, just like everyone else?
Or I understand Nyx really well because she’s a lot like my brother?
Turning to look at Nyx who is sleeping, I wonder if bringing her to my sanctuary is a lack of judgement or a way to hold onto a sliver of hope.
What is it that I’m hoping for?
Twenty-One
Nyx
“Nyx, we’re about to land,” I hear Nate’s voice. When I open my eyes, his blue piercing gaze stares at me fondly. “Come on, we need to make sure your seatbelt is secured, and your seat is in the right position.”
I stretch and swing my legs down to the plane’s floor, readjusting my seat belt. I never take it off, not after that one flight when I was eight and there was a lot of turbulence. I disobeyed my parents when they said, “Nyx, sit down and adjust that belt.” Needless to say, I almost hit my head when the plane jolted.
Once I’m ready for landing, I realize that Brock is back inside his kennel, which is secured to the floor of the plane. According to Nate, traveling is his second nature. I wouldn’t know, since I fell asleep as soon as we took off from Colorado. I should follow Mom’s advice about taking prenatal vitamins. Well, I find yet another reason why I should’ve stayed at home.
I’d be lying to myself if I said I came against my will. Nate voiced what I was feeling. Overwhelmed by all the changes that are yet to come. Upset by everything that I lost. Dazed by my parents’ advice, which I know they are well intentioned, but I don’t have the mind space to think about names, food, or anything else that affects my kid. I need a small break. A few days without having to think about my future should be enough to energize me.
Didn't Expect You (Against All Odds Book 2) Page 13