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“I have a plan,” I simply say.
Kathy releases an unflattering laugh. “Really? Because your last plan has kinda failed.”
I grant myself patience to manage her outbursts, given she’s equally invested in this. If, in fact, she had fallen pregnant, she was to be entitled to half the estate. That was the deal that she eagerly agreed to.
So, naturally, without a single cent to her name right now, she is pissed the fortune she was promised is slipping away. No baby, then our marriage no longer needs to be in place.
“We make a joint statement announcing the loss of our pregnancy. We say it has been a difficult few months for both of us and wish for everyone to respect our privacy to grieve our loss.”
“That’s it?” Kathy barks. “You think that’s the answer?”
“It will buy us more time,” I tell her sternly.
With a whisky in hand, I drink it in one go and then place the glass back on the coffee table. Night has fallen outside, making the room dimly lit aside from the glow of the lamps turned on near the lounge.
“Okay, so say people, or the lawyers, buy this story? We still need to produce a baby somehow,” she reminds me with haste. “How do you expect to do that? Pull one out of a hat along with a rabbit?”
The only thing money can’t buy is the conception of a child. Only God, the universe, or whatever higher being is in control of this.
And that’s the cold hard truth.
I need a damn miracle. Something to save me from this mess I created and solve the answer to my huge problem…
FOURTEEN
ALEXA
It turns out women weren’t lying when they said the last trimester was the hardest. I’d read a number of blog posts and pregnancy forums. So many mentioned just how difficult the home stretch is.
I find myself wanting to organize and clean things, which is so not like me. My room is my first target, organized down to my sock drawer being arranged into categories.
Oddly so, it is very satisfying.
There isn’t much needed in the nursery since my sisters set everything up. The crib is ready, all the clothes are washed, and even the change table has everything ready to go. They tried to keep everything neutral since I chose not to find out the sex of the baby.
When all of it is done, it makes sense to tackle the rest of the house out of sheer boredom. I’m not sure if Mom is grateful, given her organization is next level.
“You’re in the nesting phase.” Mom laughs while making me some breakfast. “When I was pregnant with all your girls, your father had one rule. I was not allowed to touch his office.”
“And did you listen?”
“Of course not,” Mom answers with a grin. “If your father says not to do something, I automatically want to do it.”
A chuckle leaves me mid-bite of my toast. “That’s how I felt in high school. Look at me now. Back home and relying on both of you for everything.”
“Honey, you are not a burden. We love having you home again. It’s felt empty for a while.”
Dad walks into the kitchen, dressed for work in a sharp navy suit. He doesn’t at all look his age, which is probably why women still drool over him, according to Ava. The same can be said for Mom. Both of them look so young for their age. I can only hope their genes carry onto me and I look that good when I’m their age.
“What has been feeling empty?” he questions, making himself a coffee on the fancy machine. God, the smell is amazing, and I miss it so much.
“I was saying the house has felt empty with all the girls gone, so it’s nice to have Alexa here.”
Across the kitchen, Dad leans against the counter with his mug now in hand. “Yes, we do love having you here.”
“Even though I’m pregnant with no husband?”
Dad keeps his expression fixed. “We count our blessings, Alexandra. We pray for your health and safe delivery of our grandchild.”
