by Ash, Nikki
And with one final kiss, she’s out the door, and it’s just Zane and me until she comes home later.
After making myself a cup of coffee, I go check on Zane. He’s still lying in Blakely’s bed, but his eyes are now open and he’s stretching his limbs.
“Hey, bud, how’re you feeling?” I sit on the edge of the bed next to him.
“I’m okay. Where’s Mommy?”
“She went to school. You wouldn’t wake up. Does your throat still itch?”
“A little,” he says, grabbing Bear and sitting up. “Are you staying with me?”
“I am.”
“Can we go to the park?” His little face lights up at the thought, and his dimples pop out.
“Sorry, bud, but you’re home sick.” At that, he pouts, and I look away, not allowing his cute puppy dog eyes to sway me. Blakely didn’t say we had to stay home, but I remember when I was little and would stay home sick. My mom never let me go anywhere. As Kolton and I got older, if we wanted to fake sick to get out of school, we knew we would be stuck at home, in bed, and that also meant not going out after school. We always made sure never to fake sick on a Friday. That could mean being stuck inside all weekend. Hell, even if we really were sick, we’d pretend to be okay, just so we wouldn’t be stuck at home.
“What are we gonna do then?” Zane asks. “Can we watch SpongeBob?”
“Sure.”
“And color a picture for Mommy?” He smiles big, and my heart melts. I can’t believe I missed the first three years of my son’s life.
“That sounds good.” And then an idea hits me. “How would you like to make a big surprise for your mom?”
Zane nods, excited, even though he doesn’t know what the surprise is yet. “Yes! She loves surprises!”
Blakely
“Where’s Zane?” Brenton asks, sidling up next to me on the sidewalk as we walk to our first class of the day. It’s been a few days since I’ve seen Brenton. When he didn’t show up to walk with me to class, I texted him and he told me he has some family stuff to deal with. It’s not the first time over the years he’s vaguely mentioned having to deal with family stuff, but in the back of my mind, in light of our recent conversation, I thought maybe it was just an excuse. But when he didn’t show up for class, I figured what he said was true, since Brenton almost never misses class.
“Home sick.”
“He okay?” he asks, his voice filled with concern.
“Yeah, I think it’s just allergies. Did you get everything worked out with your family stuff?”
Brenton’s steps falter slightly. “Yeah, all good.”
His action, mixed with his short response, makes me think about the words he threw at me the other day regarding Keegan. “What do you know about this guy?” I’ve been friends with Brenton for the last four years, yet I’ve never met his family, ever. Even his brother, who owns the cell phone shop on the outskirts of town, has never come around. He’s mentioned his mom a few times, but only that she works a lot and they’re not close. He’s pointing his finger at Keegan, yet what do I really know about Brenton?
“Who was the situation with?” I ask nonchalantly.
“Huh?” He gives me a perplexed look.
“Your family situation. Who was it regarding?”
“Oh, uh… My brother just needed my help.” He shrugs then changes the subject, and now my mind is racing. “Who’s watching Zane?”
“Keegan.”
Brenton’s head whips around, and he stops in front of the classroom instead of going in. “You’re letting him watch Zane? What do you even know about this guy?”
“What do I even know about you?” I glare, and Brenton’s eyes go wide.
“You’re not really comparing me to him, are you?” he roars.
“I know you live in the apartment below me and we have the same major, but I’ve never met your family. I’ve at least met Keegan’s parents and have been to his family home.” I give him a pointed look, expecting him to tell me I’m crazy and then offer to introduce me to his family—his mom or his brother.
But instead he twists his lips into a frown and says, “I’m not close with them, and you not knowing them has nothing to do with knowing me. You don’t know Keegan.”
“Your family is an extension of you,” I point out.
“What’s my favorite food? Favorite song? What’s my favorite season?” he asks. “You don’t need to answer. You know all my favorites, just like I know yours: Mexican, ‘Closer’ by the Chainsmokers, and winter because you love the cold.” He raises a brow, daring me to argue. “I know you, just like you know me. Not introducing you to my fucked up family doesn’t mean shit. Now tell me this…” He steps toward me, encroaching on my space, and because I’m near the wall, my back hits it. “What are Keegan’s favorites? If I asked him right now, could he tell me what yours are?”
“What’s going on here?” a voice booms, and Brenton steps back. “You okay?” Kolton asks me. I know it’s Kolton because he’s dressed in a pair of perfectly ironed black dress pants and a button-down white dress shirt, complete with a black and gold striped tie.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” I tell him, forcing a smile on my face, not wanting him to know how uncomfortable Brenton’s passive aggressiveness is making me feel. He might have said he was okay with us, but his attitude toward Keegan, and now his accusations, are only getting worse, telling me things between Brenton and me are the opposite of okay. And I have no idea how to fix it. Keegan is the father of Zane, the guy I’m dating. He’s not going anywhere.
“You sure?” Kolton asks, his jaw ticking.
“She said she’s okay,” Brenton hisses.
“I wasn’t asking you.” Kolton steps into Brenton’s face. “Blakely, are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, his eyes never leaving Brenton’s.
“Yeah, I’m sure. We should get to class. It’s not going to teach itself,” I joke to lighten the mood, but neither guy laughs or even cracks a smile.
“After you.” Kolton backs away from Brenton and opens the door for me. I walk through it, and then Kolton follows, making it a point not to hold the door open for Brenton.
The morning flies by. Usually I would study with Brenton until it’s time to pick up Zane, but since he’s home, and I’m looking forward to getting back to him and Keegan, I use the excuse that I have to check on Zane instead of going to study. I haven’t heard from Keegan all morning, so hopefully that’s a sign it really was just allergies and Zane is doing okay.
Using my key, I unlock my front door. When I step into the house, I’m shocked by the sight in front of me. There’s a huge rectangular sign hanging across the wall that reads: Happy Mother’s Days. No, I didn’t mean to say day—it actually reads ‘days.’ There are tons of balloons all over the place, and several vases of flowers and boxes of chocolates on the table. What is going on here? This must be Keegan’s doing. Does he know Mother’s Day isn’t until May?
“Keegan, Zane,” I call out, and both guys come running out of Zane’s room.
“Mom! You’re home early,” Zane yells. “Happy Mother’s Days!” He runs over to me and wraps his tiny arms around my waist.
Lifting him, I give him a big kiss on his cheek. “Why, thank you.” I have no idea why we’re apparently celebrating Mother’s Days right now, but I’m not about to dampen my son’s spirits.
“I got you presents.” Zane wriggles to get down, so I set him on the floor.
When he runs down the hall, Keegan comes over and presses a soft kiss to my lips. “You usually pick Zane up later.”
“I didn’t stay to study with Brenton. I wanted to come home to you guys,” I admit.
Keegan’s grin is wide and makes my belly do somersaults. “I like the sound of that,” he says.
“Of what?”
“You coming home to us.”
And now my heart feels like it’s being squeezed. His words are so simple yet mean so much to me. Brenton may be right, and I may not know all of Keega
n’s favorites, and he may not know mine, but that’s okay. We have plenty of time to learn all there is to know about each other.
“Here, Mommy.” Zane runs back over and thrusts several pieces of construction paper at me. “Read them!” He jumps up and down, clearly feeling better.
I sit on the couch, picking Zane up and plopping him next to me. Keegan sits next to him. “Happy Mother’s Days, Mommy,” I read out loud. “I love you more than I love SpongeBob.” Just like Zane’s drawings from school, his writing is messy and over it is Keegan’s handwriting. Under the writing is a picture of what I think is Zane, me, and SpongeBob.
“I love this,” I tell him.
“Read the next one.” He bounces in his seat. I read each of them, and they all say something similar.
When I’m done, I give Zane a kiss and thank him.
“Daddy made you a card too!”
“He did?” I ask, giving Keegan a curious look.
“I did,” Keegan says, standing. He grabs the card off the counter and brings it over to me. “There are three vases of flowers, three boxes of chocolates, and Zane made you three cards. One for every year I missed celebrating what a wonderful mother you are.” He hands me his card, but I can’t read it yet because my vision is now blurry from the tears that are falling down my cheeks.
“I only made you one card,” he says, “but it’s for all three.”
I nod absently, staring down at the homemade card my son’s father made me.
“Mommy, don’t cry,” Zane says, crawling into my lap. “Why are you sad?”
“I’m not sad, sweetie.” I pull my precious baby boy into a tight hug, nuzzling his neck. He doesn’t smell like a baby anymore, but he still smells like my baby. “I’m happy. I’m very happy.”
“We made you a cake too!” Zane pulls back and grins. “I put the sprinkles on.”
I laugh when the word comes out sounding like spinkles instead.
“You did?”
“It’s chocolate!” Zane exclaims.
“Zane said it was your favorite,” Keegan says.
I laugh because chocolate is Zane’s favorite, not mine. I actually hate chocolate cake, but since the only time we really have cake is for him, I always get chocolate. And on the occasion we do have cake for my birthday, we buy a half and half cake since Zane hates vanilla.
“Have you had lunch yet?” I ask Zane.
“Yep, Daddy said you have to go to bed.”
When I shoot Keegan a confused glance his way, he laughs. “Mother’s Day means breakfast in bed. You have to go to bed so we can bring you your meal.” He winks, and a fresh batch of tears falls at how much he thought this through. Sure, Sierra always makes sure to recognize Mother’s Day, but for some reason Keegan going out of his way to show me how much he appreciates me as Zane’s mother means a lot to me.
“Go, Mommy!” Zane shoves my shoulder. “Go to bed now.”
I laugh, but stand and head to my room. When I get there, I find a basket full of items: body wash, bubble bath, face masks, the works. There’s an envelope addressed to me, so I open it up, and inside is a gift certificate to the local spa for three massages. I can’t believe he did all this…
I put the basket on the nightstand, kick off my flip-flops, and crawl into bed, covering myself with my blanket. While I wait for the boys, and whatever they have cooked up, I open the card from Keegan. With every word I read, the tears sail down my face. About his parents’ love and their marriage. How he wants that for us one day. About all the time we’ve missed and how much he wants to get it all back. He promises to spend every day making up for the lost time. He goes on to tell me how amazing of a mother I am, and that even though he hasn’t been around for a long time, he can tell by just hanging out with Zane and me that we have a special relationship. The droplets of salty liquid fall onto the blue construction paper, smearing a couple of the words. I read his message twice over before I hear Zane’s voice.
“Mommy’s crying again,” Zane says, not liking my tears.
“Oh, no, sweetie,” I say, needing him to know I’m not sad. “They’re happy tears. I promise. I’m very happy.”
Zane crawls onto the bed next to me, and that’s when I notice Keegan is carrying a tray full of food over: pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream, a container of yogurt, a couple strips of bacon, and a cup of orange juice. He pulls the legs of the tray out and sets it on top of my lap.
“Wow, did you make all this?” I ask Zane, who nods in excitement. “Thank you.”
While I eat my food, sharing with Zane, Keegan sits on the other side of the bed, and we all talk. Zane tells me about his day. How he went in his daddy’s big truck—and he had to show him how to put the car seat in. They went to the stores and then came home and made everything. Zane’s favorite part is that while they were at the store, Keegan bought him a SpongeBob coloring book.
When he yawns, I tell him it’s time for his nap. He would’ve already taken one at school. He pouts, but when Keegan tells him he’ll read him a story, he jumps off the bed and runs to use the bathroom before getting into his bed.
I finish eating while Keegan reads him a story. I’m walking the now empty tray back to the kitchen when Keegan steps into the hall, shutting the door behind him. I set the tray on the counter, about to do the dishes, when Keegan’s arms wrap around me from behind.
“I’ll get those in a few minutes,” he says, turning me around to face him. “I didn’t have a chance to properly kiss you hello.” His mouth descends on mine, and his tongue pushes through my parted lips. We kiss for several seconds before Keegan pulls back. “That’s what I’m talking about.” He waggles his eyebrows, and I laugh.
“Want to sneak a piece of cake?” he asks, and I scrunch my nose. I consider lying to Keegan, telling him I would love to, but instead I go for the truth. The only way we can get to know each other is by being honest.
“I hate chocolate cake,” I admit.
He’s quiet for a second and then he laughs. “What? But Zane said you love it.”
“Zane loves it, so we always get it. It turns out that Zane loves chocolate and hates vanilla, and I’m the opposite.”
“That’s hilarious.” Keegan laughs harder. “I do too. I love chocolate and hate vanilla.”
Wrapping my arms around Keegan’s neck, I stand on my tippy toes and give him a chaste kiss. “Thank you for all of this. It means everything.”
“You’re welcome.” He dips his head down and catches my mouth. He sucks on my bottom lip, and a low moan escapes my lips. I tug on his neck, bringing him down, and he lifts me at the same time, setting me on the counter.
His hands roam down my back while mine glide across his muscular shoulders and arms, making their way to his chest. My fingers run across the hem of his shirt, and I break our kiss just long enough to lift it over his head, immediately picking back up where we left off as soon as the shirt is out of the way.
“Ahem.” The noise startles both of us and Keegan jumps back. “It seems that me walking in on you guys is becoming a thing,” my sister—who has the worst timing in the world—says.
Keegan picks his shirt up off the floor and puts it back on, and I sigh in disappointment. Sierra laughs, and Keegan chuckles, and my cheeks heat, realizing I just sighed out loud and they both heard me.
“Sorry to cock block,” she says, and the heat spreads to my neck.
“S,” I hiss, shaking my head.
“Ohhh… no cock yet?” She quirks her head to the side. “Well, damn, if you don’t have the patience of a saint. If I had that man—or the one identical to him”—she winks—“in my bed, there’s no way I’d be able to resist.”
I groan and jump off the counter. “You’re home early,” I say, changing the subject.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Should I leave? Were you about to get…” She waggles her eyebrows, thankfully not finishing her highly inappropriate, yet completely like Sierra, question.
She spots the cake on the
counter. “Oh, cake!”
“It’s chocolate,” I point out.
“Oh, boo.” She pouts.
“You don’t like chocolate either?” Keegan asks, sitting on the couch.
“No way.” Sierra shakes her head. “It tastes like dirt.”
“You know what dirt tastes like?” He laughs.
“You know what I mean.” She rolls her eyes. “What’s with all the decorations?” she asks, as we take a seat. I sit next to Keegan on the couch, and Sierra sits across from us in the love seat.
“Keegan and Zane made it all,” I explain. “To celebrate all the Mother’s Days Keegan missed.”
Sierra’s head whips over to look at me, and I can see it in her eyes, she’s affected almost as much as I was. “Damn it, and I totally ruined your thanking him.”
“Oh my God.” I groan. “Shut it.”
“How’s little man feeling?” she asks.
“Fine. Must’ve been allergies,” I tell her as Keegan wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his side. Sierra notices and gives me a knowing grin. “What are you up to tonight?”
“Well, I actually came home early because I have a date tonight, but I wanted to make sure you are okay with it. I know you said you were, but I wanted to double-check.”
“You’re going on a date with Kolton?” I grin.
“As long as you’re sure you’re okay with it.”
“Totally!” I look at Keegan. “Are you?”
“I don’t care as long as you understand that you’re family, and if you don’t work out, we’re still celebrating every holiday together.”
“And what if you two don’t work out?” Sierra asks.
Keegan pulls me in closer, if that’s even possible, and gives me a kiss on my temple. “Then we make it work as Zane’s parents,” he says, and while I hate that he doesn’t insist we will work, I love that he’s being realistic. I believe that if we really didn’t work out, Keegan would make sure we still co-parented Zane civilly.