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Chapter Eighteen
BRIGGS
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I’m not sure what’sworse, the hangover, or the humiliation. Either way I scold myself for losing control like that. Millie is sitting on the edge of my bed, worry etched in her features. She should not look like that, not at her age.
“I’m fine, sweetheart. Just a tummy thing,” I say patting her hand. “Now tell me all about your game?”
I need to distract myself from Xan and pouring myself into my daughter is the best way I know how. Her face suddenly shifts, and she bounces on the edge of the bed. I bite my lip to keep the nausea at bay.
“We won. It was amazing. Sarah got a home run. The field in Morleau is amazing. We went for pizza after. It was,” she waves her hand through the air.
“Amazing?” I tease her.
“Mom,” she rolls her eyes.
“I’m glad you had fun.”
“I told Sarah she could come over sometime. To practice. She’s the pitcher.”
“Of course.”
“And can the team come to my birthday party? I kinda told them all about it?” She’s pacing in front of the bed her face scrunched up into an adorable expression. We had talked about it being a small party for family. The kids on her team had been welcoming and didn’t seem to care that their coach suddenly had a niece. The adults haven’t been as kind.
“I don’t know, Sweetie. I’ll talk to Xan about it. We decided small was better.”
I’m used to it, having lived here before. The small town rumor mill is predictable. The women tittered about my arrival with Millie, especially the ones who knew us when we were teenagers. Xan and I had been kicked out of the diner before for gross displays of public affection. Our teachers and church knew exactly what we were up to. Most of them let us be or chalked it up to teenage hormones until I got pregnant. No matter how hard I tried to keep it a secret, that’s when my life with Xan became newsworthy.
Xan is still convinced that it was one of the parents who wrote lying bitch on my dad’s truck and he didn’t think inviting the team was a good idea. If a parent refuses to let their kid come to a Ryker party, it would crush Millie. I don’t want her to see how complicated this really was. I didn’t want her to know where she comes from. The shit Xan and his family have gotten in this town simply because of his parents.
The realization hits me harder than the hangover.
Am I ashamed that Millie is a Ryker?
“Yes,” I say, and it startles Millie into a confused stance.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, you can invite your team to your birthday. Of course, you can.”
I whip out of bed despite my wobbling stomach and crush my daughter against my chest. I kiss her hair and squeeze her tight.
I’m not ashamed of her. I’m not ashamed of who she is. I’m not ashamed that Xan is her father. I loved him. Ten years ago, I would have defended him to anyone. I would have fought for him. I wouldn’t have given a single shit what people thought of me or him.
But now all of a sudden, I care about my reputation in this town that rejected me so wholly over someone I loved.
I am not my mother.
I will not lose my ability to stand up for myself.
#
Thedays become easier and I feel more at rest here, helping Millie with school, watching Jet and Xan slowly tear apart and repair my parent’s house, and nagging my father to take better care of himself. Today is quiet. It’s me and dad on the porch drinking coffee while Millie practices in the yard.
Jet is coaching today, and Xan is supposed to be here in a few minutes to take Millie to practice.
I glance over at Dad and he frowns over his coffee. “What?” He asks and I purse my lips like I have every time I’ve looked at him today.
