Ain't She Sweet (Seven Brides for Seven Mothers #2) - Whitney Dineen Page 0,102

them straight, to no avail.

This is why I was determined to get out and make something big out of my life. I was going to prove once and for all that I was more than a charity case.

Of course, that was before I’d accepted the gift of a stranger’s swimmers and decided to bring new life into this world. I continued working at Silver Spoons through most of my pregnancy. I worried that after The Event they might try to find a way to let me go. But if I was pregnant, they couldn’t do so without fear of a lawsuit. I told my boss about my situation as soon as I found out. I realize that was a little manipulative on my part, but Gloria Gaynor and I, we’re survivors.

When I told Lexi, her response was, “Emmie, how in the world are you going to have this baby? You can’t raise a child alone in New York City.”

My response was simple, “I made my bed, now I’ll have to lie in it.” But to tell you the truth, I was nowhere near the martyr I made myself out to be. When I lay with my feet in the stirrups at the doctor’s office and heard a heartbeat coming from inside my body, one that wasn’t my own, it was insta-love. I don’t judge what other women do or do not do with their reproductive systems, but mine was making a person, and I wanted to know everything about who she would become. (I just knew she was a girl.)

“You need to go back to that apartment and let that man know he’s going to be a father. He’ll have to pay you child support,” Lexi said very practically.

I probably should have, and maybe even would have, had I taken note of his address. The truth is, I was still drunk when I woke up and all I could think to do was hightail it out of there before I had a witness to my walk of shame. I had absolutely no idea how to find the father, so I decided to forget he existed.

After going to my doctor to make sure I was disease-free—I’ll never put myself in that situation again—I settled down and tried to enjoy my pregnancy. In my eighth month, Silver Spoons decided to cut my position, claiming they couldn’t afford a senior buyer and two junior buyers, so they offered me six months’ severance to go away. I probably could have sued them for wrongful termination, but I was fat and tired and all I wanted to do was lie on my couch and watch classic romantic comedies until my baby was born. So, that’s exactly what I did. Thank goodness too, as Faye came twenty-six days early. Frothingham babies historically like to show up to the party ahead of schedule.

Chapter Three

“Who’s the prettiest baby in the whole world?” I hear my mama, Gracie, ask in her soft Southern drawl. She’s making duck faces at Faye, while I unpack my daughter’s things in the spare room. One thing is for certain, Mama loves my precious girl, and doesn’t seem the least bit concerned about her lack of a daddy.

I’d always dreamed of naming a daughter Faye after my maternal grandma. I certainly didn’t think my last name would still be Frothingham, though. The alliteration alone would have turned me off the idea. But, being a single mother in my hometown, I cannot realistically expect to have any more children. I’m pretty sure they spray painted a scarlet letter on my backside when Faye and I crossed the city limit line, or more accurately, when we crossed the tracks to the right side of town, where the Frothinghams live.

Mama carries the baby around while saying, “This here girl is as sweet as shoo-fly pie. I could just eat her up.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind watching her while I go meet with the uncles?” I ask.

“I might never let you pry her out of my arms!” She snuggles her giggling five-month-old bundle. “Isn’t dat right, little missy?”

Faye squeals in delight. I love this tiny person so much I’d cut off my foot and sell it for groceries if I had to. Luckily, I don’t have to. What I do have to do is go meet with my uncles about the job they used to lure me home. While I’m grateful for their kindness, I feel like I’m taking a giant step into the past by considering