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“Morning.”
“Happy Mother’s Day.” I hand her a rose. “The girl’s made you breakfast.”
Zoe sits up in bed, smelling the rose.
The patter of feet rushes down the hall tailed by Fire Ball. “Happy Mutters Day.” Kieleigh shouts, carrying her latest fingerpaint creation that she made for Zoe. The one she made for Marie hangs on the fridge for her to take the next time we go for a visit.
Marie wasn’t charged with Adam in exchange for her testimony. Three months ago, she backslid with her addiction. Zoe and I agreed to take Kieleigh while she’s in an intense rehab program. Because that’s what families do. Even fucked up ones with psycho ex’s baby mommas in need of help. I don’t know if that woman will ever overcome her demons, but she’ll never have to worry if her daughter is safe and loved.
She always will be here with us for however long that may be.
Adam never made it to trial. I was owed a marker from an old friend of the club, and I called it in. I’m not sorry about it. He was a lousy piece of shit that not one soul will miss. The only reason I didn’t end him when I had the chance was because I didn’t want his girls to witness it, even if he deserved it. I didn’t want that memory etched in their brains every time they look at me.
I put a hand to Zoe’s stomach, hoping to feel our baby kick and am rewarded with a slight fluttering movement under my palm.
“Want to feel the baby?” I slide Kieleigh’s palm underneath mine and she giggles.
“Is the baby moving?” Kiesha asks as she carries the tray of waffles and strawberries.
“Yup.” I push up and take the tray.
Kimber and Nav are meeting us later for the cookout at the clubhouse Pam put together to honor all the Ol’ Ladies. If Zoe is up for it. She’s around six months now and morning sickness seems to still be hitting her at all hours.
“Come on, sis. We have to do the dishes.” Kiesha tickles her sister and lifts her up over her shoulder.
Zoe shoves a forkful of waffles and strawberries into her mouth.
This is what it’s all about.
Life.
This right here.
Family.
