Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
“You’re what?” her mom hisses.
“Pregnant,” Stephanie says. “Got knocked up in a one-night stand.”
I cough even more, completely stunned how different this conversation is from the one with my parents, and I’m seeing that rebellious daughter Stephanie said she’d become to get a reaction from her parents.
“Jesus Christ,” her mom mutters disdainfully, and I can even imagine the expression on her face as if she just smelled dog shit.
Stephanie doesn’t respond but just patiently waits, and I know that this conversation is probably par for the course.
Finally, her mom speaks again, and her voice is low as if she’s afraid of being overheard. “I’m not ready to be a grandmother. I’m too young.”
I’ve quit coughing by this point, but I’m once again stunned by such self-interest.
Stephanie replies to her mother blandly. “Don’t worry, Maris. You don’t have to tell anyone.”
“Well, okay,” she says hesitantly, and I can’t help myself.
“Fucking hell,” I mutter loud enough that Stephanie blinks at me before looking to the phone.
Her mother’s voice is sharp. “Is someone on the phone with us?”
“My baby daddy,” Stephanie says, and now I know she’s just driving the knife in deep, having given up all hope that her parents might actually be happy or supportive.
“This should be a private matter,” her mother snaps at her.
“Okay,” Stephanie says easily as she looks at me with an unwavering gaze. She doesn’t touch a damn thing on the phone but tells her mom, “I’ve taken us off speakerphone. It’s just you and me.”
Stephanie raises a finger to her lips and indicates for me be quiet for the rest of the call. I’ll try, but I know it won’t be easy.
“What do you expect out of Michael and me?” Maris Frazier asks, and that breaks the last straw of hope that I had that perhaps Stephanie was exaggerating about her parents and their inability to care about their child.
“Nothing, Maris,” Stephanie says, and her voice is quite pleasant. “You and Michael have nothing to worry about. I just wanted to let you know, as this brings about some pretty big changes in my life and I might be pretty busy. Contact could be sporadic.”
The relief in her mom’s voice is evident and disgusting. “Well, okay then…that’s good. And thank you for letting us know. That was kind of you so we didn’t worry.”
“Sure thing,” Stephanie says easily, and I just listen, bewildered and angry over this exchange.
“I’ve got to go,” her mom says quickly, and I can tell it’s a lie. “I’ve got an appointment I’m late for.”
“Okay. Talk soon,” Stephanie replies breezily, and I know that’s a lie too. There’s no way in hell Stephanie will want much contact with her parents about the pregnancy.
“Bye-bye,” her mom says, and the phone disconnects.
Running a hand through her hair, Stephanie lets out a deep breath of relief. Staring down at the phone, she says, “And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the freak show that I call my mother.”
“I can’t even, Stephy,” I mutter as I take the phone out of her hands and pull her into my arms. As I rest my chin on top of her head, she circles her arms around my waist and we just sit in silence for a moment. Finally, I say, “I heard all the things you told me about them, but I just couldn’t comprehend it. How she could be so…so…”
“Cold?”
“Yes.”
“Distant?”
“Definitely.”
“Assholish?”
“One hundred percent,” I agree, and we both laugh.
Because honestly…what else can we do about it?
Chapter 16
Stephanie
Pulling open the door to The Grind, a coffee shop not far from my apartment, my eyes sweep the interior for Jules. I get distracted, though, by the eclectic décor, a hodgepodge of different styles that somehow works together. I see her sitting at a small table in the corner near the front window, sipping a coffee. She locks eyes with me and I hold up a finger to her as I walk to the counter to order a tea.
After I get my cup and saucer, I head toward Jules’s table, blowing on the hot tea as I walk. She greets me with a bright smile and nods at the empty chair. “Glad you could come.”
I sit down with a huff after placing my tea on the table. “Glad Lucas gave me two minutes of breathing room so I could come.”
She grins at me and teases, “You really don’t seem all that put out by it.”
And no. No, I don’t.
More and more I’m craving my time with Lucas, which scares the shit out of me.
We spent pretty much the entire weekend together, which included the night we called our parents, all the next day and night at my apartment minus a few hours where he had practice and I did my laundry, and most of Sunday. This included plenty of sex, good food, several movies, lots of laughs, me barfing in the mornings while he rubbed my back, and more awesome sex. It was only my promise to Lucas that he could stay tonight at my apartment again that he grudgingly let me come meet Jules for coffee at her request.