First Comes Love (New Castle Book 1)

by Lydia Michaels

  “Come in,” she whispered as she tucked Mia’s sleeping body snugly in her receiving blanket.

  The quiet, unsure shuffle of feet entering the room didn’t match the sure pace of a nurse. Glancing down to make sure her gown was tied and that she was properly covered before straightening to face her visitor.

  Her already sore legs almost gave out on her. “Jeremy,” she breathed

  “Hey, Kat,” he said, looking anywhere but at her face.

  “What—What’re you doing here?”

  “I heard you had the baby.”

  He barely stood inside the room. Head bent and hands in his pockets, his posture was that of an unsure boy—one who appeared to have gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar or some such undeniable crime. The way he fidgeted showed he was prepared for judgment, yet he hid any signs of regret, or worse, pity.

  “How?”

  “Jade called me.”

  “Oh.” Damn meddling best friend!

  Jade had come to visit her first thing on New Year’s Day and, of course, did exactly what Kat asked her not to do and called Jeremy.

  “What did you have?”

  “A girl. We had a girl. I named her Mia Rose D’Angelo.”

  His mouth twitched, possibly disappointed their child wouldn’t carry his name, but she doubted that.

  “Yeah,” he nodded. “I guess that’s for the best. How are you doing?”

  “I’m sore, but I’ll be all right. Do you want to see her? She has your coloring and your eyes.”

  “Uh, I really can’t stay long. I gotta get to school—“

  “She’s right here,” she interrupted, stepping back so he could see the bassinette.

  Jeremy froze, eyes huge, as Kat patiently waited for him to move toward their daughter. After several breaths he finally took a sluggish step toward the bassinette.

  “She has your nose,” he whispered, his hands still deeply rooted in his pockets as if afraid to touch Mia, afraid to leave a fingerprint.

  “You think?” Her voice rattled the quiet moment like thunder of a still morning.

  Once she broke the silence, her words fell like wishes tossed into an empty well. “Do you want to hold her? It’s awkward at first, but you’ll get the hang of it. She’s so petite and light. Eight pounds. The doctor says that’s normal, but she feels more like two pounds. And you should see her…” Her babbling faded as Jeremy’s slack jawed, panic stricken face turned to her.

  Since the day those two blue lines appear on a stick Kat considered herself a mother. But Jeremy had made no attempt to familiarize himself with the foreign idea of parenthood—at least not that she knew of.

  Finally, Kat looked at the floor and mumbled, “Right, you don’t want to get attached.”

  “Kat—”

  “No, no, it’s fine. She’s fine. She has all the love she needs.”

  She tried to disguise the hurt tightening around her heart and constricting her vocal cords. Unwanted emotions choked her. She was so stupid to allow herself to get sucked into the fantasy of a normal family. His rejection of their baby had nothing to do with her character, but it was still rejection—still personal.

  I have to stop hoping for things that will never happen.

  Schooling her expression, she met his apologetic gaze.

  “It’s just better this way, Kat. With me going to boot camp in June, I just think—”

  “I understand.”

  Her eyes stung as she fought to hide her tears. Stupid hormones! “Well, you better go if you don’t want to be late for school. Besides, I have to feed Mia soon,” she lied.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re okay. I guess I’ll see you around.”

  He shifted toward the door and she fussed with Mia’s blankets, unable to watch him leave, afraid he’d see the tears in her eyes. His guilt and reluctance to leave was evident as he scuffed his foot over the blue linoleum, but to her, he was already gone. He hadn’t been with her since the moment he suggested their ‘other options’.

  An obligatory visit to the hospital was not enough to distort the reality of their situation. He would go and she would stay behind to raise their child. He didn’t want the responsibility, said he wasn’t prepared to be a father. Well they were on Mia’s schedule, not his, so perhaps this was best.

  “Kat?”

  Knowing she’d never see him again, made it nearly impossible to look at him one last time. Taking a steadying breath she glanced at him. “Yes, Jeremy?”

  “She really is beautiful.”

  Smiling, a tear slipped past her lashes. “I know.”

  His gaze lowered and he grimaced. Looking back he sadly smiled, his mouth pulling to one side. His shoulders lowered and he shrugged appearing resigned. “I’m sorry I can’t stay.”

  Nodding tightly, her fingers gripped the bassinet as Mia’s father walked out of their lives forever. She was sorry too.

  “Katherine, you know I can’t do that. Your father needs time to adjust to all of this,” Vivian’s voice lectured over the phone as Kat dressed Mia in her going home outfit.

  “He’s had nine months, Mother. It’s your first grandchild. You haven’t even seen her yet.”

  She tried not to let her emotions get the best of her, but it was really difficult with all the hormones taking over her body in some postpartum invasion.

  “Can’t you come? He doesn’t have to know where you were.”

  “You know I’ll not lie to your father. How could you even ask that of me?” Accepting defeat, Kat simply cooed at the bundle of perfection before her and ignored the other broken parts of her family. Her mother sighed as she adjusted the phone.

  “Katherine,” she said in a lower voice as if conspiring to rob a bank. “Why don’t you let me call you a cab? I’ll even pay for it with my credit card.”

  “I don’t need a cab, Mother. The nurses have a service patients can use. I just figured you’d want to help bring your granddaughter home. I wanted to include you in this special day.”

  “Please don’t make me feel guilty, Katherine. It’s difficult enough dealing with all your father’s demands. Why don’t you get yourself settled? Call me next week and we’ll make arrangements for a visit? How does that sound, dear?”

  “I guess.”

  “Good. And trust me. Everything will be fine. Your father just needs a little more time. Now, I have to get ready for my charity meeting, but I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Okay, Mom.” Her mother hung up before ever hearing her reply. She looked down at Mia and smiled. “We don’t need them anyway.” Fighting back her ever-present tears, she released a cleansing breath. “Nope. It’s you and me, babe, and that’s all we’ll ever need.”

  Chapter One

  April - three years later

  “Can we get a dog?”

  “A dog?” Kat echoed as she and Mia walked home from Mrs. Bradshaw’s.

  “Yeah. We need a dog. All happy families have dogs and we’re a happy family, right, Momma?”

  “The happiest, but I don’t think we’re ready for a dog. They’re a lot of responsibility and who would take care of the dog while I’m at work and you’re at Mrs. Bradshaw’s?”

  “He could come to Mrs. Bradshaw’s with me.”

  “I don’t think Mrs. Bradshaw would like that too much, babe.”

  “Yes, she would. Mrs. Bradshaw’s my friend,” Mia replied as if her friendship with her sixty-eight year old babysitter was validation enough.

  “I know she’s your friend, but I think Mrs. Bradshaw’s allergic.” The fib rolled off her tongue with zero hesitation. They could not have a dog. Her plate was full enough.

  “What’s ‘lergic?”

  “Allergic is when something makes you sneeze and makes your eyes itchy.”

  “Oh.” Mia pouted.

  She’d perfected the pout by the time she was a year old. Kat hated to disappoint her, but their situation didn’t allow for a dog.

  “Besides, I’m not sure Dr. Stevens allow
s pets.” Mia’s face scrunched up as she stared off into the distance. She was never silent for long, so Kat quickly tried to come up with a better argument.

  The Dr. Stevens excuse was solid. He was the owner of their house as well as Kat’s boss, and as the landlord he’d have final say in issues such as dogs and other pets. But in reality, Kat couldn’t imagine him saying no. The man spoiled Mia rotten. Hopefully Mia never got around to asking him herself. She could ask for a giraffe and Dr. Stevens wouldn’t deny her.

  “A stick!” Mia yelled with excitement as she snatched up the twig.

  Crisis averted. Thank God for broken branches and three-year-old attention spans.

  As they turned onto their street Mia chattered about the spring flowers starting to bloom and pretended her stick was a magic wand. During the day someone had switched the For Sale sign on the old vacant farmhouse to Sold.

  “Oh, look, Mia. Someone bought that house. Maybe they’ll have kids your age.”

  They scrutinized the neglected home from the ramshackle roof and dilapidated shutters.

  “Maybe they’ll have a dog,” she suddenly cheered.

  Shit. Crisis reinstated. Stay calm. “Or maybe they’ll have a little three-year-old like you.”

  “I’m three! They can be my friends!” She exclaimed, finally comprehending.

  “I know. Wouldn’t that be nice, to have some new friends on our street?”

  “Yeah! And they’re gonna wanna play tag with me!”

  “I’m sure they will. I wonder when they’re moving in.”

  “Let’s say hi!”

  Mia scampered toward the house’s driveway and Kat quickly took her hand, slowing her determined steps. “No, babe. They didn’t move in yet. They may not be here for a while. See how there isn’t a car in the driveway?”

  “Oh. Maybe they’ll be back in five minutes.”

  Kat’s shoulders sagged. She pinched the bridge of her nose and reminded herself that her daughter’s tenaciousness was a blessing no matter how tedious it became at times. “Maybe.”

  Nudging her along, they continued home. At the old oak tree that marked the edge of their property Mia bolted up the porch steps of their cottage. Two rockers sat on either side of the paned window, adorned with a cedar flower box.

  The garden needed tending, but was lovely nonetheless. Kat loved their home, from the white clapboard siding with black shutters to the brass knocker on the shiny, red front door. The backyard, outlined by a white picket fence, only added to its charm.

  Unlocking the front door, Mia dashed through the small, antiquated kitchen and into the living room. The afternoon sun highlighting the wood floors in a deep, honey gold glow as it filtered through the many windows. The TV clicked as the ever-present sound of cartoons filled their home.

  Kat hung Mia’s backpack on the coat tree with her purse and headed into her bedroom to change. Off came her stockings, skirt, bra, and blouse. And on went her cotton tank top and yoga pants. Grabbing a hair tie from her dresser, she pulled her hair into a sloppy knot on top of her head as she headed back to the kitchen.

  “You want apple juice or milk?” she called.

  “Apple juice.”

  Kat poured the juice into a cup, grabbed two cookies from the jar on the counter along with a paper towel. Placing the snack on the coffee table in front of Mia, she sat next to her on the couch, and pulled her into her arms for a bear hug. “I missed you, babe.”

  The familiar scent of baby shampoo and sweet spring air greeted her.

  Mia wrapped her arms around her neck. “I missed you too, Momma.” Mia cuddled into her side and sipped her juice as she stared at the television. Quiet.

  Running her fingers through Mia’s strawberry blonde curls, she smiled. This was the best part of her day. Work was over, obligations were met, and all she needed to focus on was Mia.

  “What’s today?”

  “Tuesday.”

  “Macaroni and cheese night!”

  Her income only covered the basics. They rented the house from her boss, who could probably get twice as much from another tenant, but insisted they take it. Owning a home on her salary never crossed her mind, but renting a house—well, that was the next best thing.

  It wasn’t fancy. The cottage was the smallest house on the street. Aside from the quiet neighborhood, the one-story home boasted a small eat-in kitchen, one bathroom, a living room, and two bedrooms. It wasn’t perfect, but it was their home and they loved it.

  Kat was meticulous about keeping it clean and organized. She definitely had some strong Virgo tendencies. Her cupboards were labeled, her clothes coordinated by color and season, and her menus were always the same. It was structured, but she savored the predictability of their life.

  Every weekday Mrs. Bradshaw watched Mia while Kat worked for Dr. Stevens as a secretary in New Castle. Dr. Stevens was a psychologist. The office was usually quiet and empty except for her, the doctor, and the client of the hour. She spent her days filing, making coffee, answering phones, and sorting mail. Her boss was a very sweet, tolerant man she was grateful to know—grateful Mia had the chance to know such kindness as well.

  Her entire world was Mia. Their life was structured at a level she could control and that was the way she liked it. Aside from Jade, they rarely had company. Kat’s parents were forever making excuses why they couldn’t visit, and after three years she learned to take what she could get. Sometimes it was healthier to accept the reality of situations, rather than hope for change. And the reality was, her parents never got over her getting pregnant in high school. They loved Mia, but their relationship never quite recovered from the blow of disappointment Kat delivered the spring of her junior year.

  Her father only spoke in terms of minimum courtesies and her mother chose to ignore her opinions altogether, replacing them with her more pretentious beliefs. Self-important, superficial, never ending socialite crap was what her mother’s views usually consisted of, but Vivian had made an art of harping on the displeasures of life. Kat usually agreed with her just to shut her up. There was no use arguing.

  Her parents were both politically active, public figures. They lived in the nicer residential section of Parkside, where Kat’s father had been the Mayor for twelve years and her mother campaigned for many different charities—because it was expected. This month’s cause was the new animal shelter.

  Phone calls were often and tedious. Kat typically mumbled sounds of agreement until her mother exhausted herself and ran out of complaints. That was all Vivian really ever wanted anyway, someone to agree with her and tell her how valid and justified she was.

  As the only child, Kat didn’t have siblings to distract her mother. The only thing worse than her mother’s phone calls were Sunday dinners, obligatory meetings where Vivian held court to air more of her grievances.

  Her childhood home was big, cold, and shiny. She hadn’t seen Vivian clean in over a decade, but their home was always spotless. Appearance meant everything to her parents and, for as wealthy as they were, Kat was not—another grievance her mother never let her forget.

  Mia wanted for nothing, as Vivian made sure her clothing was a suitable reflection of her lineage. Kat, however, had stopped letting her mother dictate her wardrobe the year she started supporting herself. There simply wasn’t room in her budget or life for expensive shoes and pashminas to accent every outfit.

  There were plenty of differences between the way Kat was raised and the way she was raising Mia. But at the end of the day, she always knew she was doing right. Their small, cozy house was a home, built of love and laughter. Something Kat had grown up without.

  “What do you say I start dinner, kiddo?”

  Mia nestled into her side and nibbled her cookie, eyes focused on the television. “Let’s snuggle a little longer, Momma.”

  She sighed. “Okay.”

  The next day, a truck was parked in the driveway of the corner house. “My friend’s home!” Mia squealed.

  Reeling in
her daughter’s exuberance, Kat held tight to her little hand. “Hold on, babe. I don’t think that’s your friend.” The side of the work truck read Adams Construction. “I think that truck belongs to workers, people who are fixing up the house to get it ready for your friends.”

  There weren’t any lights or coverings showing in the windows. The house appeared vacant. Perhaps their new neighbors were planning some renovations. It was already an impressive house. Being on the corner, it had the largest lot on the street. The house itself was big too.

  It was two stories with a third floor attic accented by peaked dormer windows. Kat wasn’t sure if it had a basement, but it was four times the size of their cottage, and had a two-car, barn style garage. It was nice, but in need of repair.

  Like a mouth full of sporadically missing teeth, the fence was the first of many blemishes surrounding the overgrown yard hiding the rickety, stained siding and shutters hanging from broken hinges. Kat supposed the construction truck was a good sign. The new neighbors would most likely be decent homeowners if they were taking the initiative to fix up the home before they moved. It would be lovely if a family with children close to Mia’s age moved into the home.

  Mia hopped cracks in the sidewalk as Kat followed, contemplating the difference between managing a house of that size and one the size of her cottage. She couldn’t imagine one person signing on for such an undertaking, which added to her presumption that the new residents would be a family.

  Long ago, she’d come to terms with the fact that she’d probably never get married. It was difficult enough to find someone interested in a single mom, especially when she didn’t date. Carrying around all fifteen pounds of pregnancy weight wasn’t helping matters either.

  If she ever did meet someone she was interested in they’d also have to be interested in Mia. More than interested, they’d have to love her, and Mia would have to love them. So many stipulations left the odds piled against her, so she resigned herself to a life of single motherhood long ago. And she somehow learned to find contentment in her situation.