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“Figured that much. But damn, this pie really is amazing.”
“Bobby makes it from scratch. The crust, the custard, the fruits… all natural and organic.”
“Ah, so it’s not just my preggo taste buds going haywire.”
Lacy giggles and shakes her head. “Girl, we’re pretty popular in the neighborhood on account of these pies. You should come around more often. We’ve got peaches and apricots in the summertime. The pecan pies are to die for in autumn.”
“Good to know. I’m definitely dropping by again,” I reply as I take my last bite.
The hole in my stomach has settled. At least there’s food in there to keep the hunger away for a while. The baby will need every single morsel I can manage. Even if I don’t feel hungry I still need to eat to keep him or her sated. I feel Lacy’s gaze lingering on me, so I look up from my plate to meet her eyes.
“Thank you,” I mumble and gently push the empty plate toward her.
“Are you ok?”
“Yeah. I will be, anyway. I think I just need Christmas and New Year’s to go by so I can clear my head and properly analyze my options.”
“You know, I’m a firm believer that life doesn’t throw anything your way that you can’t handle,” she says. “And you seem to be a real fighter. The kind of girl with enough grit to take on an army.”
I took on three Marines at once. They filled me every which way and made me the happiest I’ve ever been. Does that count for something?All I can do is give Lacy a smile as she packs my updated order into a large paper bag with the diner’s logo printed on the side. It smells like cinnamon and baked apples in here, along with freshly brewed coffee and deep-fried decadence wafting in from the kitchen. For a minute or so, I find solace and peace in this old diner where lost souls gather, drawn by the delicious fragrances and the tastes of simple comforts.
“Thank you, Lacy,” I say, getting up from my seat. “I hope you have a wonderful Christmas.”
“You, too.”
I give her one last smile, then grab my food bag and head out. It’s a white Christmas Eve outside, the cold air hitting me in the face like a frosted kiss. It’s snowing, generous clumps of snowflakes falling softly over the city. Soon enough, the whole of Providence will be covered with a glimmering layer of white as the world comes to a halt, as the windows light up in different colors, and as children go to bed early, eagerly awaiting Santa’s arrival.
I walk down the street, faceless and nameless among strangers, thinking about Christmases past, filled with equal parts of good and bad memories. My Christmas memories with Maddie are wonderful—loud and fun moments as we used to bicker over who got what from under the tree, since Dad always forgot to tag them. Christmas moments after Maddie were mostly quiet and dark, with Dad nearly drinking himself to death and Mom silently plotting her escape to Florida. My Christmases with Kieran were nice but always felt incomplete. Something was always missing in that relationship, and I can see that clearly now.
I can’t help but mourn the Christmas memories I would’ve created with Matthew, Sully, and Jason, I know they would’ve been beautiful. Tranquil and sweet, gathered in front of the fireplace, the orange flames licking at the logs, consuming them bit by bit, until only a mass of smoldering embers remained, while the lights twinkled on the tree. We would’ve sipped on my delicious signature eggnog, listening to Christmas carols while watching the snow fall quietly outside.
We would have exchanged gifts, the guys most likely spoiling me. Sully would’ve gotten me something spicy and naughty, like him. Maybe those black lace and pearl panties we saw at the lingerie store in Aspen. Crotchless and Brazilian cut. He would’ve loved to see me in those. Hell, I would’ve loved me in those. Jason probably would’ve gotten me a perfume he knew I liked. We smelled plenty at the fragrance store in between blizzards when we ventured into town. And Matthew… he probably would’ve sprung for jewelry. It’s not the would-be gifts that I’m missing, though. It’s the gesture itself. Their kindness and generosity. Their attention to detail. I miss what I know would have been an amazing time making great memories, gifts or not. The bond we would have continued to strengthen.
None of that matters anymore. My would-be Christmas ain’t happening. I’m staying at a hotel and having diner food for dinner. At least there’s apple pie and extra pancakes with maple syrup. Just the thought of it has my taste buds activated. The baby is craving everything at once, and I’m sure it’ll only get more intense as the weeks roll by. I need to find my balance, first and foremost. I’m going to be a mother, and I’ll be damned if I will ever fail my child the way my parents failed me after Maddie died.
Once I get to the hotel, I soak under the hot shower for the better part of an hour. Despite the earlier bout of hunger and wholesome cravings, I’m no longer in the mood for anything other than steam and heat. Like a gator in the heart of Florida, I welcome both as I feel my muscles relax under the steady stream. My thoughts continue to keep me company, but I no longer pay attention to any of them. I’m too tired and worn out. I need some downtime, a few nights and days to nurse my emotional wounds and to feel what I feel before I can look to the horizon once more.
One step at a time, right?
I get out of the shower and wrap myself up with a towel, taking my seat at the table by the window overlooking the hotel’s parking lot so I can have my dinner. The cravings are back. I’m guessing it might be like this until my due date. Hungry, not hungry, heavy, not heavy, gotta pee, can’t stand the taste of water, give me all the water on the planet, sleepy, sleepless, agitated, exhausted, and so on and so forth. My hormones are doing the splits down the learning curve of an already complicated situation. All I can do is try to keep up.
As soon as I turn my phone on, a string of texts and missed calls pour through. A couple are from Etienne, asking me to call him as soon as possible. It sounds urgent and judging by how he found me at the store, the last thing I want is to further ruin an already devastated Christmas. Matthew has been calling, as well. Sully left a couple of messages. Jason, too. Kieran sent me a Christmas-themed meme, but he can screw off. I’m never going back there. The trash took itself out, and I’ve learned my fair share of lessons with him.
Then the universe decided to send me three more potential lessons, neatly packaged in three gorgeous men. I, the fool, jumped at the opportunity, never anticipating the speed and depth with which I would end up falling in love. The last thing I needed is the very thing that happened, and I need to dwell on that for a bit. The hopelessness will fade, the despair will fizzle away. The heartache will subside, and the love I was ready to give Matthew, Jason, and Sully will be redirected toward the tiny creature currently growing inside me. I’m going to give this world a brand-new human, and I intend on raising him right. Or her.
“Boy or girl?” I wonder aloud, placing my hand on my belly and looking down, as if it will answer.
It doesn’t really matter. It’s not like I can choose. I will love them either way, and I will give them everything I’ve got. Maybe more. With a mouthful of egg and bacon, I take my laptop out and flip it open, determined to peruse the job adverts before I hit the sack. I’ll be sleeping in a decent bed for the first time in days, though I have to admit, I sorely miss my cabin bedroom in Aspen.
Shaking the thoughts away, I distract myself online. There isn’t much for me to pick from, but there are a couple of interesting gigs that are worth making a call for. It’s a starting point at least, and it’s better than nothing.
26
Matthew
Back at my cabin, we start to execute the plan while packing our overnight bags. There’s a chance we’ll come back for the remainder of the season, so we don’t take everything we brought from Providence. This place feels so empty without Selina, anyway. I’m no longer drawn to it, no longer looking forward to returning if she’s not here to greet me with that gorgeous smile and long, red hair flowing over her shoulder.
Sully is on the phone with a former commander of ours, currently running a private security firm that actively works with law enforcement across state lines. “Your traffic cam system is the best I’ve ever seen,” he tells the guy. “Which is why I need you to comb through it. I’ll send you the search terms to narrow the process down as much as possible, but the sooner you can tell me where she’s been spotted, the better.”
