; I was in the kitchen loading the dishwasher, trying to keep myself as busy as possible, when Maggie entered, carrying a tray with empty dishes from Blake’s room. She looked exhausted with dark circles under her eyes. Her shoulder-length hair was a stringy mess, barely held together in a loose ponytail at her nape. Her gaze met mine before she looked away quickly. There was something on her mind. Not wanting to be the one to start the inevitable conversation, I occupied myself with emptying the tray.
Maggie settled into a chair at the kitchen table just a few feet away. “You could have talked to me, you know,” she said quietly. I stopped mid-rinse and turned to face her. My defenses began to form as she continued. “Chris and I wanted to raise you kids together. Neither of you had siblings and we thought it would be a welcomed bonus.”
“He was never my brother.” I bristled, feeling like an old wound had been opened. “Not in my mind, anyway.”
“Clearly.” Maggie nodded. “I knew back then that you’d had a crush on my son. I really underestimated things.”
“We couldn’t control the fact the you and my dad fell in love and got married.”
“I know.” She picked at the tablecloth and chewed on her inner cheek, a sign that always meant she was contemplating what to say next. “Blake told me about the baby.” She lifted her eyes to look at me. “Is it true?”
I nodded.
“How far along?” I thought back to when I’d last gone to the doctor then calculated the ten days Blake had been in the hospital.
“About eleven weeks.”
She drew in a long breath and pressed two fingers against her lips as she processed my answer.
“It hurts me that you two couldn’t come to us with this. Being in love isn’t a crime. Is the situation awkward, yes, but nothing that should ever make you feel ashamed, Tayia.”
Shocked by her words, I moved to sit next to her at the table. “Maggie, I’m so sorry.”
Her face softened as she grabbed my hand. “I know it was my son who wanted to keep things secret. I really wish he didn’t feel that way. I blame myself. I didn’t do a good enough job showing that my love for you both is unconditional.” I’d mistaken her avoidance as anger when what she was really feeling was guilt.
I put my arms around her and sobbed. “I’m just so sorry for everything. You’ve always been there for me. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
She relaxed in my arms and we held each other for several moments before movement in my peripheral made me turn my head. My dad was standing in the doorway of the kitchen with his arms crossed and a small smile on his face.
“For the record, I always knew,” he said as he stepped forward. “Dads sense these things about their daughters. It’s hard to miss when the adoration in their eyes shifts to someone else.” I untangled myself from Maggie and went to him, relieved that he instantly wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head. “I love you, doll. I just want to see you happy.”
“I am, Dad.” I sniffled as tears worked their way down my cheeks and through his blue cotton T-shirt.
“Good, that’s all that matters to me.” Then he gave me a tight squeeze. “Now, where’s my shotgun? We got a wedding to plan.”
My eyes went wide at his words while Maggie giggled softly behind me.
“Relax, doll, I’m kidding.” My dad had no clue just how much his joke had touched a nerve. It was so not how I envisioned my life with Blake would begin. A shotgun wedding, me waddling down the aisle trying not to pretend like the only reason we were getting married was because of the baby.
I couldn’t complain, I guess. It was exactly what I wanted, wasn’t it? To be with Blake, anyway I could have him.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. While the conversation with my dad and Maggie had eased some of my worries, I still hadn’t resolved anything as far as Blake and I were concerned. The clock said that it was one in the morning as I tiptoed downstairs. The house was quiet, except for the muffled sounds coming from Blake’s television. I padded my way across the living room to his door and peered through the opening. The faint blue haze flickering with the movement on the TV screen was all I could see.
Blake’s head turned in my direction and he spoke my name. “Tay? Is that you?”
I pushed the door open wider and stepped inside. “Hey, how are you feeling?”
“Well, the meds are kicking in, so not too bad.” He chuckled and gently patted his tightly wrapped ribs. The bruising around his eyes had faded to yellow. The cut on his forehead had healed to the point it didn’t need a bandage. Every day he started to look more and more like himself.
“Good.” I settled next to him on the bed.
“How are you?” he asked as he shifted slightly to face me.
“I’m okay.” My gaze went to the old black and white movie he’d been watching. He’d always been in to the classics. When he grabbed my hand, a shiver went through me. How could a touch that small affect me in such a big way?