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Chapter 53
Grace
Lunch.It’sjustlunch. Of course nothing can bejust anythingwhen it involves my mother.
“Do you want to go to Bristol with me today?” Cash asks as he dresses in front of me. “I have to meet with my grandfather, but after we can go by the office and then grab an early dinner if you want?”
I bite my lip. I still haven’t told him about my lunch plans, and apparently, I’m not going to. “Actually, I have plans today. But if you come back tonight, we can do dinner at home?”
“Okay, Angel, I’ll plan on it. Do you want me to leave you Frank for the day? I can drive myself to Bristol.”
Yeah, no. Definitely don’t want Frank driving me to meet my mother.
“No, that’s not necessary. Go with Frank. I’m sure he’d love to catch up with you for a few hours without me around.”
Cash pauses putting socks on and looks at me. “Frank loves having you around.” He grumbles under his breath and laughs. “I think he likes you more than me.”
“That’s because I’m prettier than you. And I smell better. And I am not so grouchy.”
“Can’t argue that. You most certainly are prettier.” He turns around and crawls toward me on the bed. “As for how you smell, I’ll be the judge of that.” I laugh as Cash grabs my hips and pulls me under him, inhaling my neck with exaggeration.
“I love you,” I say, wrapping my arms around him.
“Love you too, Angel. How’s my baby treating you? You feel okay?” he asks as he runs his hand across my belly. He’s started talking directly to my stomach, and I find it completely adorable.
“She’s been a good girl, not causing me any trouble.”
Cash leans down to drop a kiss on my stomach, whispers something into my skin, and then leans up to kiss me on the lips. “Good. Enjoy your day. I’ll see you tonight.”
Then without another word he grabs his socks, puts on his shoes, and he’s out the door, leaving me with my guilt.
My mother greets me at the restaurant with a smile. “Grace, you look lovely,” she says as she gives me a once-over. I don’t stand since I can’t hide my stomach any longer. I’m halfway through this pregnancy, and the bump has officially popped.
“Thanks, Mom. You look good too.” And she does. Lily Winter always looks beautiful. It’s how she’s seduced so many men throughout the years. Her beautiful long caramel hair falls in waves at her shoulders, her plump lips—which are no doubt fake—and botoxed face leave no wrinkles to indicate her age. In all honesty, most would mistake her as an older sister, which leaves me to wonder how she’ll react when she finds out she’s going to be a grandmother.
My mother sits down, and we both look at the menu awkwardly. We’ve already gotten theI’m sorrysover with on the phone, so now would appear to be the time to just make small talk or catch up, but it’s awkward.
How do you just move on from your mother destroying you so publicly? Then again, I forgave Cash for doing the same thing. I bite the inside of my cheek and focus on the menu.
“The salads here are very good,” I say, aware that my mom would never dare to have the wood-oven pizza I’m currently craving. I’m sure she’ll have something to say about my choice, and she’ll eye me as I devour each slice. But I don’t care. I’m starving and so is this baby.
“Actually, I was just thinking that the burrata pizza sounds delicious. Would you be interested in splitting that, and we can get salads as well? Ya know, live dangerously but still have our greens?”
I stare at my mother with her teasing voice and the glint in her eye as if she’s got two heads. I’ve never seen my mom eat pizza. This is not an exaggeration. It’sneveroccurred. Who is this woman and what did she do with my mother? Actually, scratch that, I much prefer this version.
I push a piece of hair behind my ear and reply, “Sure. Sounds good.”
“Would you like to split a bottle of white wine as well? I remember you always liked Sauvignon Blanc. I wouldn’t mind the Kim Crawford if that works?”
I’m so stunned that she remembered my preference for wine that I just nod an assent before realizing that I cannot have a glass of wine because I’m having a baby.
“Actually, Mom, I um…”Dammit why is this so hard?“I’m pregnant.”
My mom’s jaw drops open, and then she peers down at me as if a baby should be sitting on the table and not hidden in my stomach under my sweater. I push my chair back so she can in fact see that I have a bump.
“Wow, Grace, I had no idea. Does Steven know?”
The waiter’s arrival is perfectly timed for me to take that little nugget and decide how to reply. I only have a few moments to decide whether I’m going to divulge who the father is. I had decided before arriving I wasn’t going to tell her about Cash. Not yet anyway. But now that she’s—I don’t even know what she is, I can’t put my finger on it precisely—just different,I am second-guessing hiding his identity.
