Bastards and Scapegoats (Twisted Legacy Duet #1) - CoraLee June Page 0,6
the deck’s steps and headed toward a parked motorcycle in the distance.
The sound of the back door opening drew my attention away from Hamilton, and I turned to greet my mother, pleased that I no longer had to navigate this awkward conversation with my u-uncle and that she had remembered our breakfast date this morning. Thank fuck Hamilton left before she woke up. I didn’t want to explain how we’d met the night before. “Hey, baby,” she greeted while adjusting her lavender robe and settling in the cushioned chair beside me.
My mother looked tired. Her brown hair was still curled from her updo the night before, and her smeared lipstick had stained the skin at the corner of her mouth. She slowly sipped her drink, and my eyes zeroed in on the glimmering rock on her left hand.
“I was worried you’d forget,” I admitted.
“I could never forget you,” she replied with a sigh. “Though I was moving very slow this morning. Perhaps an open bar was a bad idea, hmm?” she teased, her voice like a pack of cigarettes and church bells. I laughed. I hadn’t seen her touch a drop of alcohol in a while. I eyed her stomach, trying to see the evidence of a pregnancy, but saw nothing.
Every Sunday, for as long as I could remember, my mother and I did this. We sat outside on our patio and drank coffee. Sometimes we chatted about life. Sometimes we sat in silence.
“I saw the pregnancy test, Mom,” I admitted. “I’m happy for you. You don’t have to keep it from me.”
“You know?” she asked, shocked. Mom turned to face me with a grin. “I’m sorry I haven’t told you yet. It’s been a lot of change for you, baby. It’s been killing me, not telling you.”
I set my cup down and reached out to grab her hand. “I’m happy for you. But we never have secrets.”
Mom sighed. “You’ve always been more of a friend than a daughter. Hell, I don’t even have any friends. I had to ask Colleen to be a bridesmaid, and I don’t even like the bitch. She’s too nosy.” I cleared my throat. Colleen certainly didn’t mind being a bridesmaid when Hamilton was balls deep inside of her. “It’s always been you and me against the world, baby. I just feel guilty. This child is going to have all the things I couldn’t give you. A father. A consistent home. It won’t need toys from the bargain bin or goodwill clothes. I’m not going to have to work three jobs or worry where rent is coming from. I can’t help but feel sad that this baby is going to get a completely different version of me than you did.” She held her stomach and looked off at the tree line in the distance for a moment. “Heck, I’m about to have a honeymoon in Paris. You’ve never even been on an airplane.”
My heart panged. The different upbringing this child would have was something I’d thought about ever since I saw the test. “I like my version of you,” I lied. “And I want you to be happy. You deserve this, Mom.” This baby might not have the same upbringing as I did, but Mom had earned the right to have a happy little family. This was just another pitstop on the road to accepting our new normal.
“You’re too good to me,” she whispered, her green eyes sparkling with emotion. “It’s still us. You and me. We just have a little more help. I l-love Joseph. I really, really do. Promise. He’s a good man. I adore him. He’s going to pay for your college. He wants me to see the world. He buys me anything I want. I know the two of you haven’t really had a chance to get to know one another, but he cares about you. He’s really excited for you to attend his alma mater. Jack attended there too, you know. It’s somewhat of a family tradition.”
Had Hamilton attended there?
I forced a smile. I didn’t want to attend the pretentious Greenwich University. Up until Mom and Joseph started dating, I had dreams of attending Brooklyn College for Social Work. My entire high school class catalogue was cultivated with the hope of getting a scholarship so I could attend. I knew that Greenwich University was a greater opportunity than I could have ever hoped to achieve. The tuition cost more than most people’s homes, and only the most elite students attended.