Page 107 of Make it a Double

Even though we’d talked about it before, it was different hearing that as I entered my thirty-fifth week. The idea of giving birth in over a month was terrifying, let alone two weeks. Were Beckett and I really ready for that? Not that it mattered. We didn’t have an option not to be.

Save for the gentle hum of conversation and music coming from through the jukebox, the room was quiet as I made my way from the back. There were only a few patrons milling about, most of whom I recognized, but there was one I did not. He sat at the bar, staring straight ahead and nursing a glass of amber-colored liquid. Ryan, one of our bartenders, asked him a question as he wiped the space next to him down, but the man just shook his head and returned to staring.

Ryan raised his brows when he saw me coming, meeting me near the middle of the counter. “Decided to come out of your cave?”

I snorted, running a hand along my belly. “Something like that. Honestly, Ryan… I’m so jealous of you right now.”

“Me? Why?”

“Well, for starters, your stomach isn’t the size of a beach ball, and you don’t have a tiny human kicking the shit out of your ribs.”

“Fair point,” he laughed and raised his hands in surrender. “Makes sense.”

I pulled myself up onto the stool and rested my elbows on the bar top. Liv and Duke were gone for the day. They were meeting with a vendor for their expansion, tying up loose ends so they could hit the ground running on construction soon. I felt horrible that they’d spoken to Lukas about putting it on hold until he could finish our project, but that was quickly chased away by the thought of bringing my son to our new home.

“Never quit this job to sit behind a desk,” I mumbled. “It’s horrible.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Ryan, the angel that he was, poured me a crisp Cherry 7UP and slid it my way. He even topped it with maraschino cherries to class it up a bit. I groaned as I took my first sip. “I’m too good at what I do to stop now.”

Raising my cup in cheers, I said, “Hear, hear!”

I felt the stranger’s gaze as Ryan and I continued to chat. He was only five or so seats down, and made no attempt to turn his head when I glanced in his direction. There was something familiar about him that I couldn’t place. He wasn’t from the area. I knew that much. Maybe he was just passing through. They all looked the same.

The man took a sip of his liquor and grimaced. “I thought I ordered top-shelf. Not whatever this swill is.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I offered him a polite smile. “We’re just yapping away over here. I’ll let Ryan get back to work so he can serve you.”

I was halfway out of my seat when the man stood from his and sat closer to me. It was a bit weird, but nothing too alarming considering he was drinking alone at just past two in the afternoon. That was something I’d learned after years of working here. Whatever was weighing on him must’ve been heavy. It was a pity some men turned to anger instead of finding someone to talk to.

As good of a bartender as Ryan was, he wasn’t always the best conversationalist. Sometimes he would just stare at someone, blinking in confusion as to why they were spilling their deepest secrets and regrets to him. But Duke always reminded us that working at a bar was a lot like working at a therapist’s office, except you didn’t need a degree and the pay was exceptionally worse.

I settled back into my seat and looked the man over. He was dripping with wealth, from his expensive suit and cologne to his patent leather shoes. “What brings you to Pinecrest?” I asked.

He let out a long sigh. “Family dispute, I’m afraid. It’s always the ones closest to you that hurt you the most.”

It must’ve been a terrible burden to bear. Family, regardless of blood relation, shouldn’t bring you pain. I didn’t even feel that about my mother. Would it be fair to carry hate in my heart for someone I never knew? Maybe it would be different if she’d left when I was older.

“I’m sorry to hear that. It must be really hard on you.”

He nodded. “You know, you try to give your kids everything. A good education and all the luxuries money can afford, but sometimes it isn’t enough. They still betray you.”

My hand flew to my belly as I thought about the relationship I wanted with my son. It was nothing like what this man had with his children, nor like what Beckett had with his father. I was grateful he wanted to break the vicious cycle he’d been thrown into.

“Don’t trust that he’ll be good to you,” the man said, gesturing toward my stomach. “Or she, I suppose. How far along are you?”

“I just entered my thirty-fifth week,” I said proudly, smiling to myself, ignoring the unnecessary warning. “That’s crazy to say out loud. I feel like this has been the longest stretch of time in my life, and yet it passed by in a blink.”

“My wife felt the same way with our son. He was always difficult. That pregnancy was hell on her. She spent most of it with her head in the toilet.” His gaze was unfocused as he brought the glass to his lips. “Should’ve been a sign he’d bring me hell later in life.”

Ryan and I shared a look, knowing this man was veering into dangerous territory. There was an unbridled anger simmering just beneath the surface. “So, you have a son?” I asked, forcing a level of cheer I didn’t feel. “It can’t be all bad.”

His laugh was callous and cruel. There wasn’t even a hint of fatherly love to be found. “Unfortunately, it is with both of my kids. One showed such great promise but lacked any conviction, while the other would rather blow my money chasing highs than make something of themselves.” He sighed, finishing his drink in one go. “They’re both lost causes.”

I didn’t agree with that at all. While it was one thing to protect your peace, it was another to give up on your children for simply following their own path. I hated how this clearly unsatisfied man couldn’t see that. And if we were being honest, the source of his disappointment seemed to be with himself rather than his children. He couldn’t lean on them to fulfill something he’d never been able to achieve on his own.

“For your sake, and that of your children, I hope you’re wrong,” I said, placing my hand on my stomach. “I choose to believe there’s no such thing as a lost cause, so long as someone is there to fight for it. My child may not be born yet, but I know there isn’t a single thing he could do for me to give up on him.”

With a dip of my chin, I slid off my stool and hurried toward the office. That conversation was going nowhere good. I was halfway there when his voice stopped me. “So, you are having a boy?”