Almost Ordinary (The Song Wreckers Book 2) (17 page)

Caleb put his hand on my knee and squeezed. “You guys really ready to call it quits?”

I shrugged. “I think it’s more a question of whether we have the time and energy to devote to The Song Wreckers.”

“So you’re not mad about everyone knowing about the baby?”

“I’m a professional song writer about to lose her nanny.” God, could I sound any more pathetic? “Katie’s having a baby, Courtney and Josh have been trying for another one for a while. We have a third baby on the way. I need more time, and there’s nothing else I can give up.”

“Because, Princess, I’m pretty sure that most of the planet knows we’re having another baby. My mom was ecstatic.”

I let my head fall on the headrest. “You’d think after all these years that I’d be sick of band practices and rowdy people getting drunk to our music. But I love it all.” I rolled my head to the right and watched the bare trees zip by. I knew I had to pull those big girl panties out of the drawer again. Easier said than done.

I felt Caleb’s hand start rubbing the back of my neck. I didn’t realize how tense I was until my tight muscles loosened under his touch. He let my thoughts stay in my head the rest of the ride home and didn’t try to make me talk. He knew what being a Song Wrecker meant to me, and that if I quit, I’d be sad.

Once home, Char assaulted us with hugs. “Thank you, Char. I can’t breathe,” I gasped. She let me go.

Damn woman was stronger than she looked. The Ramsey side of the family all knew about the pregnancy now, so I excused myself to call my parents and inform them.

As expected, my dad and Joy were thrilled. My mom told me she was happy for us.

“Well, the cat is officially out of the bag,” I announced. “Everyone knows I’m pregnant.”

“So how far along are you?” Char asked.

I plopped down on the couch next to Caleb. “Don’t know yet.”

“You went to the obstetrician and he didn’t give you a due date?”

My heartbeat quickened as my mind tried to form excuses as to why we didn’t have a due date. She didn’t know about his fertility issues, so he let her believe that we had gone to the obstetrician. “My doctor’s a she, and, uh . . .”

“She’s not sure yet,” he said. “They’re guessing a couple months or so but they’ll recheck in a couple of weeks.”

Char set Alex down. Concerned, she turned to me. “Is something wrong?”

I shook my head. “It’s the whole fraternal twin thing. My chances of having another set are higher than most women’s. They want me to get some blood work. This is totally normal. Every mom on this fraternal twins’ mom board I belong to says so. Sometimes—”

Caleb tapped my leg to stop my babbling. I stopped and smiled at him. We had both lied so well. Awww. A couple who lied together . . . yikes. Not the skill to be proud of.

Excited for another grandchild, and having no reason to doubt anything either Caleb or I told her, Char accepted our explanation of not having a due date. Her smiles came easy as she played with the boys and continued talking with us.

Of course I felt guilty. Here was this woman who welcomed me with open arms even though I was already seven months pregnant and married to her son when she met me for the first time. No drama, no hard feelings, just love and acceptance. My God, what would she do if she found out Alex and Zander weren’t her biological grandkids?

No time for wallowing in guilt. I excused myself and fixed dinner since I was on a tight schedule. Katie planned on coming over tonight since Brett worked at the bar and she wanted company.

I gathered all the ingredients to make meatloaf and mashed potatoes, and started peeling and chopping. I slid the quartered potatoes into the pot of boiling water right as Katie knocked and walked in.

Caleb scurried into his office claiming he had work waiting for him. Really, I think he feared watching Katie rummage through his special drawer.

In the kitchen, Katie surveyed my dinner preparations. “Meatloaf and mashed potatoes?”

“Yup. Green beans for a side and we’ll start with salad.”

She arched her back and turned her head to the side to make sure Caleb was shut in his office. Assured, she went to his junk food drawer. She fished out his bag of chocolate covered pretzels and started munching. “Mmm. Ram has good taste.”

“You’re going to make a grown man cry eating his junk food, you know.” Not that he cared. He would never interfere with a pregnant woman and food.

I surveyed the items on the counter, making sure I had everything I needed to finish dinner.

She swallowed her mouthful. “Better him than me. Cry that is. I want this baby out, Mol. For the love of God,” she began to blubber, “Get this thing out of me.”

I sympathized and gave her a one-armed hug. Char offered her some motherly comfort. We fed her more of Caleb’s junk food and told her how brave and beautiful she was. I didn’t know what else to say to make her feel better. Char did. She told us she’d babysit Alex and Zander, and that I should treat Katie to a fun night out because once the baby arrived, fun nights out would disappear for a while.

Katie hemmed and hawed at the idea until I said, “Hey, we’ll go to Brett’s for karaoke night!” I thought it would help to be near her husband and had the added benefit of being able to sing and be the center of attention.

I ran to the dining room office and asked Caleb if he could go with us. “Please don’t let me have to deal with The Queen of Mood Swings alone tonight,” I begged.

He emerged from the office with enough time to eat dinner and play with the boys. Char pushed us out the door at seven thirty and off we went. Two pregnant women heading to the bar. Ugh.

Right away the smells of the bar began to nauseate me, and I knew enjoying myself would be impossible.

The first volunteer opened her mouth to sing. “Oh shit,” I said, and ran like an Olympic track star for the bathroom only to find a line of women waiting to pee. I shouldered my way through. “Excuse me, gotta puke.”

The ladies moved for me, but the two stalls were both occupied. I put my hand over my mouth and jogged in place, trying to hold it in.

“Oh God,” I moaned, turning to the sink and barfing.

The woman washing her hands didn’t appreciate that. Lucky for her she’d wrenched her hands away in time.

“I’m so sorry,” I choked out, then heaved again. The other women in here weren’t Song Wreckers fans I knew too well. “Pregnant, not drunk,” I explained before hanging my head one last time over the sing to heave. No one commented and no one else washed their hands.

Someone pounded on the door at the same time Caleb’s voice called, “Molly! Are you okay?”

“Hold on!” I ran the cold water to scoop some up, and rinsed my mouth out.

I apologized to the other women in there one more time. I glanced in the sink and saw that there were a few chunks of puke that wouldn’t go down the drain.

“Molly!” Caleb yelled again, then opened the door and stormed in.

“Caleb, you’re in the ladies’ bathroom!”

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Is it the baby?”

I pumped the handle on the paper towel dispenser several times and pointed to the sink. I tore off a long piece of paper towel. “Relax, it’s just morning sickness.”

Women left and other women came into the bathroom. They had to pee and didn’t seem bothered by a man in there. Maybe they all knew of Caleb and saw him as a protector, not a pervert. I gave it another minute to make sure I wasn’t going to puke again. I hung my head over the sink, breathing slow and even. Caleb stayed and rubbed my back.

Stepping aside, I sucked in one last, big breath. Done. I grabbed more paper towels and scrubbed the sink out one more time. Satisfied, I motioned for Caleb to lead the way.

Except, he always insisted I go first. God, I wanted the heck out of there, so instead of waiting for him to open it I opened the door myself, at the same time someone else opened it from the other side.

I pulled, they pushed, and the door knocked me in the head. I fell into Caleb, who caught me.

God, that hurt. I put my hand to my forehead.

“Get out!” Caleb yelled.

“Ow, I’m trying, hold on,” I told him.

“Not you, him.”

Caleb pointed to Cooper standing inside the doorway, hand still on the door, look of
oh shit
on his face. Oh goody, me, Caleb and Cooper crowded in the women’s bathroom together at Brett’s. Good thing my stomach had nothing left to heave.

Chapter 22

I pushed my way past Cooper and sat down at our table, close enough to the bathroom for me to observe Caleb usher Cooper to the hallway behind the bar.

“Sorry,” Katie said. “Cooper came in here looking for Ram and I told him he went chasing you to the bathroom. You okay?”

“Fine. I know I’m supposed to be giving you a fun night out, but I want to go home.”

We agreed she would sing one song and then we’d go as soon as Caleb returned. It took almost a half hour for Caleb to deal with Cooper, then the three of us left.

We thanked Char and sent her home. “What happened between you and Cooper at Brett’s?” I asked as soon as Caleb and I were alone.

“The real estate agent in Tampa called and has two locations he thinks are perfect for 3D. Cooper’s leaving Monday.”

“That lasted a half hour?” We started up the stairs.

He didn’t answer.

“Caleb.” I turned around on the step and faced him. On the higher step our heights were equal and I looked him straight in the eye. My eyebrows rose, waiting for his answer.

“We talked about other stuff too.”

I circled my hand in front of me to convey
please continue
.

“We had a few words. Don’t worry about it.” He tried to move past. I blocked him. “He said to tell you he was sorry for hitting you in the head with the door, then asked about you. I told him I didn’t want to hear your name come out of his mouth ever again. We argued, Princess. No big deal.”

I kissed him soft and slow, wrapped my arms around him, and poured all my love into that kiss. When I mentioned Cooper these past months, I saw the difference in his expression. He became irritated and frustrated. I hated that, hated even more that I couldn’t cut Cooper out of our lives.

“I love you,” I reminded him.

“I know, I love you too.”

I woke Saturday alone in bed and with a foggy head like I had slept too long, and my body didn’t want to move. I lifted my eyebrows, willing my lids to follow suit. Once my eyes were able to stay open on their own, my ears registered voices, several of them, along with the sound of dishes being scraped or placed on a table. The sizzling of bacon, along with the smell of it, and other, food.

Did we have company, this early in the morning? I stretched out for a few seconds, sending a message to everything below my head that it was time to wake the hell up, then moved the blankets out of my way to see the time. Holy shit, it was almost noon! I’d missed half the day.

But the extra sleep felt nice. It sounded like a party in full swing downstairs so I allowed myself several minutes to fully wake up and stretch.

After making the bed, I scrutinized myself in the bathroom mirror. Heavy eyes contradicted my good night’s sleep. At least they weren’t puffy from puking last night. The little time we spent at Brett’s had worn me out. Once home, as soon as my head hit the pillow, I crashed. I didn’t hear Caleb get out of bed this morning, the boys, or people coming over.

I leaned forward closer to the mirror and picked through various sections of my hair looking for more greys. There were some that weren’t when Caleb discovered them. Not a ton, but I needed to have my hair colored, along with a bang trim. Some face framing layers might help. I made a mental note to schedule a salon appointment.

I didn’t stop with the eyes or hair. I stripped down to my underwear. My God, I didn’t even remember the last time I studied my body. Probably when my scars were healing from the attack, trying to figure out if they were as noticeable as I feared.

I raised my arms to the side, flexed my biceps, then lowered them down. They were still toned, though not as defined as years past. No under the arm flappage, happy about that. I rolled my shoulders a few times. Looking good. Mid-section, wow. Not what it used to be.

I’ve always been thin with an athletic body. Years of dancing and playing other sports made sure of that. Now my body . . . oh my God, was I showing already? I ran my hands over my belly and turned to the side.

I
was
bigger. There was a small pouch above my pubic bone that never went away from my C-section. I ran a finger over the stab wound scar on my left hip bone, then did the same with the scars on my left arm and right shoulder. My hips were slightly bigger, and—what the hell?—I had a little baby bump and hadn’t even noticed. How in the hell did that happen?

Oh yeah. I stayed so busy, and worried about everything else that I forget about myself. I mean, I still worked out and ate healthy. It wasn’t like I never got naked. Caleb rid me of clothes quite often. I guess I haven’t taken the time to look at myself. I’ve never been the type to wear skin-tight jeans, and they still fit, so yay. I have to start paying better attention to my body.

I checked out my ass—not too shabby, then redressed in my pajamas and added a robe.

Caleb hadn’t said anything about my bump or that my whole mid-section looked, well, bumpy. And it’s not like it happened over night.

Whatever. I found my dad, Joy, Caleb, and the boys gathered around the kitchen table eating from a spread placed in the center. Scrambled eggs, pancakes, bacon, toast. The twins played with wooden spoons on the floor. They created a lot of noise for five people.

“Hey everyone,” I greeted.

My dad jumped up. “Hi, Molly,” he said, coming over and hugging me. Joy hugged me too.

I said good morning to Caleb and the boys, then plopped down in a chair. Caleb set a cup of coffee in front of me. If we didn’t have company over, I would’ve asked him if he’d noticed my little baby bump yet.

Joy grinned from ear to ear. “Phil, do you want to tell Molly the good news?”

My fork froze halfway to my mouth. “What news?”

“You’re looking at the newest escapee of a system which promotes basic enslavement in order to ensure some type of livelihood.” My dad smiled.

“Hey, that’s great.” It was the only thing I could think of to say, because,
what?

He sat next to me. “Know what the best part is?”

“What?”

“I can live anywhere I want.”

“Hey, that’s great,” I repeated.

Joy and my dad’s faces were lit up like a Caleb-decorated Christmas tree. Caleb grinned, so I fake smiled, wanting to look as thrilled as everyone else.

No one spoke. “She doesn’t comprehend yet,” Caleb told them. “Not enough coffee in her system.”

My dad placed his hand on mine. “Molly, I put in my papers to retire. I can live anywhere. Joy retired last week. We’re moving here!”

“Oh my God, really?”

“Yup,” Joy said. “We already have an offer on our house, so we have to find one we like around here soon, in the next week or two.”

I finished breakfast and agreed to spend the day house hunting with them. Most of our efforts would have to be searching the Internet and maybe driving past the locations if they found some they liked well enough.

The boys came to me begging for food, so I fed them off my plate until the three of us cleared it. Then I excused myself to shower so we could start house hunting as soon as possible. Caleb left for work, so my dad and Joy agreed to watch the boys until I finished getting ready. Stepping into the warm shower felt wonderful. I rinsed off and ran my hands over my belly. Definitely some expansion going on. Fascinating. Geez, how far along was I? I’ve been tired and not feeling so great for a while. Some of it could’ve been stress from Adam or Cooper. I’m blaming the additional gray hairs on those assholes, too. I couldn’t remember the last time I had my period. It’s been several months at least. I had chalked that up to stress as well, like last time.

I used the time drying and straightening my hair to debate whether or not to call my mom to tell her about my dad. What the hell, right? Once my natural curls were straight and smooth, I grabbed my cell from the nightstand and dialed her number. It went to voicemail so I left a brief message. I hoped telling my mom about my dad moving close to me would elicit some sort of response. Maybe jealousy. Deep down I hoped she’d want to compete for my attention. Immature, but so what. I wasn’t ready to give up on our relationship.