by Emma Hart
“That was you being weird.” Hannah counted out four balls of navy yarn and jotted down the serial number. “But it makes sense. Dreams are from our subconscious, right? I read this book on it a while ago.”
“Of course you did, Ms. Oils and Crystals.”
“Hey, essential oils work. You should try them for your temper.”
“I do not have a—carry on about these dreams,” I grumbled.
“Pregnancy doesn’t always equal actual pregnancy. Unless you didn’t use a condom.”
“We used a condom.”
“Okay, then it doesn’t equal actual pregnancy.”
“This doesn’t sound particularly scientific.”
“You’re not letting me talk.”
I mimed zipping my lips, then turned my back to get another box. Also, so I could roll my eyes.
“Pregnancy can mean a new beginning. Since you’d just slept with Mason and were at his place, I’d assume your brain was telling you it was time for a new beginning with him. That despite all your assing around, you have actually forgiven him for hurting you.”
That made sense. I guess I had, deep down, forgiven him for what he did when we were immature young adults. “And all the babies?”
“Maya is easy. She’s his daughter, and they come as a package deal. I think the other babies are just manifestos of your own fears. Let’s be real, neither of us are in any rush to start a family, but Mason comes with one ready-made. Plus, he’s older than you. Only by a little over a year since it’s almost your birthday, but still.”
“Go on.”
“Face it, Immy; you’re scared that he wants to settle down. You two never had a serious relationship despite the fact you were clearly in love with each other, and you don’t want to get into a relationship now unless you’re both on the same page about what’s expected.” She turned around and took the box from me. “You wouldn’t just be dating him, you’d be dating Maya, too.”
I sighed and leaned against the ladder. “That’s what I said before I left last night. Neither of us really knows if these weird feelings we have are real or if they’re just nostalgia. I don’t want to date a guy with a child just because of nostalgia.”
“That was before you slept together. How do you feel now?”
I could lie. I could tell her that I wasn’t absolutely terrified of the way I was feeling. That I wasn’t constantly thinking about him and what he was doing and if he was thinking about me, too. I could tell that I didn’t feel my heart skip whenever she mentioned his name, or that I’d written ‘Imogen Black’ on the back of a Starbucks receipt this morning.
All right, I hadn’t done that, but I nearly had.
I wasn’t thirteen anymore.
The fact was that out of everything, the only thing I was certain about was that I had forgiven him. Holding onto that hurt did nobody any good, and we were totally different people six years ago.
Young. Stupid. Immature. Impulsive.
If we’d told each other how we’d felt, maybe our story would have ended differently. But we hadn’t. Neither one of us had ever taken the jump, even though I think we both knew.
I didn’t really believe in coincidences, but I did believe in the Universe. I believed that no matter your personal beliefs or your religion, there was something bigger than all of us out there. Maybe it took a shape or form or it didn’t, maybe it was a human being or maybe it was just the vastness of bright stars in the night sky.
The Universe had a plan—for everyone.
Maybe Mason was always supposed to be a part of my plan, but not back then.
Had I learned a lot since college? Of course. I knew how to run a business. I’d had relationships, both good and bad. I knew the true value of family now, even if mine drove me absolutely insane.
I didn’t know any of that back then, and I’d wager he didn’t either.
“Immy?”
I shook myself out of my string of thoughts. “I guess I’m scared of getting hurt again,” I admitted after a moment. “Even though it’s different now. I don’t know if I could take having my heart broken by him a second time.”
Hannah met my eyes. “You won’t have to, as long as you don’t make the same mistakes you did the first time around.”
Well, that much was true.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN – MASON
Twenty Questions
“Can I have a dessert, peas?” Maya looked between both me and Matt expectantly.
I looked at Matt. “You’re the one who has to explain it to Fran.”
He snorted. “She made me bring Maya to a business dinner. You’re her dad.”
“I say she can have all the ice cream she wants,” I replied. “But I’m not taking all the blame for this.”
Matt nodded in agreement. “Fifty-fifty split. If I take her home hyper, there’s no way Fran will make us talk business over a three-year-old again.”
“We can hope,” I muttered. Thankfully, we’d covered everything we’d needed to. I just needed to report back to my boss in the morning.
I let Maya choose her dessert and placed the order. “At least we got everything cleared up,” I said to Matt. “It should be a simple open and close case. The employee was fired on fair grounds, so she doesn’t have much of a case to argue.”
He nodded slowly. “That’s what we thought, but we were advised to hire a third party to handle it.”
“Since she made allegations about your company lawyers, it was a good thing you did. I’ll give the file to Andrew tomorrow, and once he’s reviewed it, I’ll give you a call and let you know.”
“Do you think she’ll go as far as court?”
“Hard to say. She seems the vindictive type, but this is a pretty solid defense we’ve pulled together.” I patted the file as Maya’s ice cream was brought over and she dug in like she hadn’t been fed all day. “It’s not big enough for a jury, and most of the judges I know wouldn’t side with her anyway.”
“That’s what we figured, but you’re right; she is vindictive. She’s more concerned about the fact she was caught on camera than she was about the fact she was having private relations in the ladies’ bathroom.”
“There we go. She broke company policy and was fired. No lawyer worth their salt would advise her to go to court. It’s not as if she was fired for doing it in a public place on her own time.”
“Although she’s probably done that, too,” he finished with a mutter. “Anyway, enough about that. Fran said that girl you dated in college moved in next door. She went on about it for an hour, but I wasn’t paying any attention and I should probably have an update for her when I get home, because you know she’s going to ask.”
“I yike Immy,” Maya interjected. “She don’t burn my popcorn.”
“Thank you for the reminder,” I said, side-eyeing her.
Kids. You couldn’t get away with a damn thing.
“Don’t worry,” Matt said. “She cried at Fran yesterday because her popsicle was too cold.”
“Sounds about right.” I laughed. “I don’t know what’s happening. It’s been a long time, and I think we have some stuff to work through, but she doesn’t seem to hate me anymore, so there’s that.”
Matt chuckled. “Always a good start. Fran does seem to like her.”
“Of course she does. All they did was talk shi—trash about me.”
“Yeah, that’s the basis for any good friendship. Two of your exes trashing you in front of you.”
“If they do it again, I’ll leave them to it. Immy’s grandma always has good cake.”
“She mentioned something about that, too. Any ideas? I feel like I should know.”
I snorted. “She’s going to get samples for the wedding cake from Immy’s grandma so your mom can’t be involved.”
“Do I have to do anything?”
“Act like you didn’t know, I’m guessing. Which won’t be hard.”
Matt laughed and raised his half-empty beer bottle. “I’ll drink to that.�
��
We clinked bottles.
“So are you bringing Immy to the wedding?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
I laughed and shook my head. “That’s a year away unless Fran has a fit and makes you elope.”
“It’s becoming more likely by the day, my friend. And you’ll be coming on the elopement.”
“That is my dream, to be part of the elopement of my ex, the mother of my child, and her new fiancé,” I replied simply. “I can’t tell you how excited I am for the inevitable day she does that.”
“Why do you think I haven’t paid the deposit on the venue yet? There are thirty days until it’s due. All I need is one more dinner with my mother, and it’s all over. Elopement and a party.”
“I’ll make sure I’m on standby with an elopement bag packed.”
“Fran will appreciate your sacrifice.”
“The only thing she’ll appreciate is you going to tell your mother where to stuff her wedding planner.”
“That, too.” He shook his head. “I keep trying. She won’t listen. Why do you think I’m excited about the elopement?”
“What’s eloping?” Maya asked.
“A type of dance,” I said quickly. “I’ll show you this weekend.”
This answer seemed to satisfy her, and she went back to her ice cream.
“Smooth.” Matt nodded slowly. “Anyway. I’ll make sure she puts a plus one on your invitation.”
“Your mistake is assuming that she would send one without one,” I replied, then finished my beer. “Anyway—I need to stop by the pet store for some food for Dolly.”
Maya’s eyes lit up. “Can I see her?”
Matt shook his head. “Not today. You’ll see her this weekend, remember?”
“Oh.”
“Why don’t we call before bed?” he offered instead. “I’m sure Dad won’t mind.”
“I’ll call you,” I promised, putting some money on the table. I got up and kissed her cheek. “She’s going to need her dinner and a run around the backyard, so when she’s done, you’ll be in your pajamas ready, okay?”
Maya thought about it for a moment before she sighed heavily. “I suppose.”
I laughed and hugged her tightly. After saying my goodbyes and reiterating my promise to call her later, I headed out to my car and drove to the vet. Dolly was her usual bouncy self, so I paid the rest of the bill—somehow without wincing—and took her home.
Immy’s car wasn’t in the driveway, but the curtains twitched as I pulled into mine.
I could expect a visitor, then.
I acted like I didn’t know Jen was spying on me. I’d bet she’d been there for hours waiting for me to get home to come and quiz me about last night.
I carried Dolly into the house and set her down in the living room. She’d only been fed an hour ago, so when she went to the patio doors, I opened one to let her into the back yard.
No sooner had I stepped foot inside the house than there was a knock at my front door.
“Come in, Jen!” I shouted.
The door swung open, and the sound of grumbling reached me. “Can’t even get the door for an old lady.”
“You’ve been waiting for me to get home. You can get your own door.”
“The disrespect.”
I chuckled. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Can I have whiskey?”
“No.”
“Then no,” she said with a sigh. “You’re home late.”
“Yes, ma’am. I had dinner with Maya and her stepdad, then had to collect Dolly from the vets.”
Jen narrowed her eyes. “With your ex’s future husband?”
“Is it really that strange? We had business to discuss.”
“Like dating my granddaughter?”
“No. Actual business. An employee is suing them for unfair dismissal, and I’m their attorney.”
“Don’t they have their own attorneys?”
“They do, but they hired me.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m better than their attorneys,” I said simply. “Next question?”
“You’ve got sass. I like that. Where’s the frou-frou fucker dog?”
“She’ll be taking a shit on your rose bushes if you don’t use her name.”
“Hey!” Jen pointed one finger at me. “If she shits on my rose bushes, I’m shoving my cane so far up her ass she’ll never be able to shit again. And I’ll have a glass of that wine my hussy of a granddaughter left here last night.”
I didn’t argue that time. I went to the fridge, poured a small glass, and took it into the living room where she’d made herself at home on the sofa with her feet on my coffee table.
Honestly, the woman couldn’t be more than five-foot-three, but she was like a human hurricane. When she stopped by, you listened.
Or boarded up the windows—something I probably needed to consider doing.
“So. She spent the night.”
“I’m not sure I’m comfortable discussing this with you,” I said slowly. “You’re her grandmother. It’s not really appropriate.”
“Child, if you think I’m appropriate, you’re sorely mistaken.”
“Be that as it may, I’m not discussing any events of last night with you.”
She sighed. “Nobody tells me anything these days. What are your intentions with her? Are you going to knock her up and leave her, too?”
“Jennifer. I’ll take that wine back.”
“Fine.” She said it with all the attitude of an annoyed teenager. “What are your intentions with her?”
“My intentions are to keep it between me and Immy until we know ourselves,” I said firmly. “It’s complicated, and there are a lot of things to consider.”
“Like the fact you broke her heart and knocked up another woman.”
“You say it like those things happened in the space of a week, not two years.”
“For all I know, they did.”
“Maya’s nearly four. It didn’t happen in a week.”
“Math isn’t my strong point. Sue me. You’re the fancy lawyer.”
Why had I said ‘come in’ again? What a stupid decision that was.
“Is there a point to you being here, or are you just bored?” I asked, sitting in the armchair.
Jen swirled the wine in her glass. “I’m bored. And nosy. I’d have left already since you aren’t telling me anything, but you made the mistake of giving me wine.”
Yeah. That was the mistake I’d made.
“Do you mind if I go and get changed out of my suit?”
“I do, actually. You wear it well. Good to know she isn’t sleeping with one of those morons who think sweatpants are acceptable to wear to a meeting.”
“I’ll be back in a moment,” I said, getting straight back up from the chair and going upstairs.
Lord above, the woman was a fucking trip.
I changed into sweats and a t-shirt before going back downstairs. On the way, I stopped into the kitchen and poured some Jack Daniels into a small glass, because fuck only knew I was going to need something stronger than water to get through this conversation.
“You said you didn’t have whiskey,” Jen said accusingly when she saw my glass.
“No. You asked if you could have whiskey, and I said no.” I sipped.
“Fucking lawyers,” she muttered under her breath.
The sound of a car pulling up next door made her still.
“She’ll know you’re here,” I warned her.
“I know. I don’t really care.” Jen cackled. “I’m old and senile. I got the wrong house. You let me in to look after me. See? I’m really fighting your corner here, boy.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it?”
“You could make it sound less like a question.”
“If I could, I would. Believe me.” I got up at the sound of frantic knocking on my door. “She’s gonna kill you.”
“Nah, she won’t. She won’t get my life insurance that way.”
I counted to ten inside my head. By the time I hit ten, I was at the front door.
“Have you seen that damn woman?” Immy asked, eyes blazing. “Is Grandma here?”
I nodded. “She’s on the sofa.”
Immy looked at the glass in my hand. “Are you drinking whiskey with her?”
“What do you take me for? A fool? No. She’s drinking a small glass of wine.”
“She’s drinking my wine? What did I tell you about sharing my wine?”
“It was your wine or my whiskey.”
She sighed. “Fine, you made the right choice. What’s she doing?”
“Swearing about lawyers outsmarting her, asking about last night, and threatening to stick her cane so far up Dolly’s ass, she’ll never shit again.”
“So a normal conversation, then.”
“Pretty much. Come in.”
Immy stepped in past me and pushed hair from her face, exposing a big pink patch underneath.
“Did you dye your hair?”
She touched her hair until she found it. “Ugh, no. I closed the store for inventory today and got attacked by a bottle of pink paint. And now instead of showering so I stop smelling like a canvas, here I am.”
“You can go shower. I’m sure she’ll still be here by the time you’re done.”
“No. I’m going to put her to bed, then I’ll take a shower.” She walked into the living room. “Let’s go, Grandma. Mason doesn’t want to listen to you tonight.”
“He’s been looking after me,” Jen said. “I got confused and came to the wrong house.”
“Yeah, same,” Immy drawled in response. “Try again.”
“He was helping me with a problem with my roses.”
“He knows nothing about roses.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because he once got them confused with dahlias,” she replied.
“They look similar,” I muttered.
She shot me a look—one that told me to be quiet, but one that was also full of laughter. “Grandma, let’s go.”
Jen huffed, then downed the wine.