AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I nod. “Thanks.”
The stack of presents isn’t huge because not that many people are here. My mom has already told me what she’s giving us, and at this point, I worry how it’s going to go over thanks to the conversation earlier with my dad.
Marge pulls out a sheet of paper and a pen, which I figure out quickly is to write down who gave what. This whole thing is foreign to me, but Adeline seems to be enjoying herself now. Who doesn’t love presents, I guess, right?
There’re a lot of clothes, and since we don’t know what we’re having, the colors are mostly yellow, light greens, and creams. Her parents give us a stroller, which I can’t figure out how to fucking open. Needless to say, there’s a lot of other stuff I didn’t even know we would need, and two of everything since we don’t live in the same house. When I stared at the identical boxes of baby monitors, it made my chest ache for some reason.
Marge sets my mom’s envelope on Adeline’s lap, and I freeze in fear that my family is going to push her out of my life. That it will all be too much for her, and she’ll want to seize control. I’ve been around our family’s money my entire life and my parents aren’t being overbearing on purpose. They honestly just want to share their wealth with their first grandchild and the woman who’s bringing him into the world. But not everyone sees it that way, especially when you don’t come from my world. Lots of people associate money with power, and Adeline could think my family is trying to manipulate her with their money.
“This is from Damon’s parents, Stanley and Heather.”
Adeline smiles at my mom. She opens the envelope and reads what’s inside, then looks at her own mother before her gaze shifts to my mom. “Thank you. It’s very generous.”
Okay, good, she didn’t run.
Adeline holds out the letter, which is a gift certificate from an interior designer, and tells the room, “It’s to have the baby’s room done with all the furniture and painting and everything.”
“Well, Damon isn’t going to be any help in the painting department, and Stanley and I really wanted to buy the furniture, but we didn’t see any on your registry,” my mom says. “This felt like the easiest thing. She’s expecting your phone call on Monday.” My mom sips her iced tea. She’s proud of herself, and the gift is very thoughtful, even though she just slammed me.
“I can paint,” I say.
The room fills with laughter, stirring my irritation.
“Yeah, but why when you can pay someone to do it for you, right?” Isla says.
I growl under my breath. I hate that woman. And I’m going to show them what I’m capable of when I make up the baby’s room at my apartment.
I drive Adeline home with all the presents and arrange for an Uber Black to take my parents downtown to their hotel.
Adeline hasn’t invited me to her place yet, and I’m eager to see how she lives. I follow her directions to a small two-story house painted white with black shutters and a small detached one-car garage at the end of the driveway. It’s in the downtown area of her town, and it’s cute and quaint like I’d expect.
“This is it. Home sweet home.” She opens the door and gets out of the vehicle.
I’m thankful that with the change of weather, we’ve had some warmer days, so I no longer have to worry about her slipping on ice.
She unlocks the front door as I work on bringing everything in from the vehicle. As soon as she’s inside, she flops onto her couch and slips off the flats she’s wearing. “I swear, I hate feeling this unattractive. Even my shoes are ugly now because of my swollen feet.”
“Oh please, you’re beautiful.”
She laughs, and I go out to the car to grab the stroller. The one I’m determined to master in the next month or two.
Adeline sits on the couch, taking out the clothes and pulling off the tags. “Now I kind of wish we would’ve found out. All this yellow.”
I chuckle. “We can get more clothes after he or she is born.” I continue to fiddle with the stroller.
“You’re going to break that thing,” she warns, watching me grow more and more frustrated.
I finally put it aside. “I just don’t get it. Why make something so hard to open when you most likely have a baby in your arms when you have to open it?”
Now that I’m not deep in my determination to beat the stroller, I let my gaze roam over the house. Her living area, dining room, and kitchen take up the majority of the wide, open-concept first floor, with a staircase along the wall.
“How many bedrooms are here?”
She glares at me. “Don’t start. I’m not moving if that’s what you’re suggesting. I won’t let your family buy me some new house and supply me with maids and butlers.”
I sit in the chair adjacent to her, my face falling. “I’m sorry about my parents.”
She heaves out a sigh. “Don’t be. I know they mean well. They could’ve come here thinking I manipulated you into sleeping with me to get pregnant.”
