Didn't Expect You (Against All Odds #2) - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,86

what’s going to happen between Nyx and me yet, but how I wish that I can call this baby mine. To be a lot better than my father was to me. To love this life with all my heart and to protect it to my dying breath.

“Persy and I went shopping for this board. It’s perfect to track the bump size and changes she is going through.”

“Hashtag-bump-watch,” Persy sings.

“We’re not posting this on social media,” Nyx warns her.

“Fine. Let me take a couple more shots of you and you can choose your favorite one. We’ll print it and start a scrapbook.”

“We officially entered into the second trimester,” she announces.

I pull her to my arms and hug her tight. “Congratulations. Do you want to go out to celebrate?”

“If by out, you mean the beach, yes. I’m about to change into my swimsuit and rub sunscreen all over my body. I have a date with your swimming pool.”

“I’m leaving at three to meet my mom,” I remind her.

She frowns. “You want me to come with you?”

“No, I’m just giving you a heads up.”

“I’ll come if you want me to.”

“Thank you. That means a lot to me, but I think it’s best if I go alone.”

She squeezes my hand. “We’ll be here.”

Thirty-Five

Nate

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen my mother in person. Twenty-nine years to be exact. When I arrive at the restaurant, the hostess walks me to a booth in the far corner, as Marcia requested. Five minutes later, the hostess walks to the table, a tall woman wearing a pair of big sunglasses walks right beside her.

She has dark hair cut into a bob barely brushing her shoulders. Her black dress is a tad on the formal side for a cup of coffee on a Saturday afternoon. I can’t recall how she used to dress back when I was younger.

“Nathaniel,” she confirms.

I nod once as I watch her take off her sunglasses. She doesn’t look like a woman in her sixties. More like late forties.

She looks at me and smiles. “You look exactly the same way you do on the internet.”

“Thank you for meeting me,” I say, pointing toward the bench.

“I was surprised when I received your assistant’s call. Are you okay?” she asks, concerned. She tries to reach my hand, but I frown and move it away.

“Why would you ask that?”

“Well, I think that you wouldn’t call to ask for money,” she states. “According to Jim, my husband, you and Ford are wealthy. Another possibility is that maybe you need a kidney and—”

“Let me stop you there,” I say.

The waitress approaches the table and says, “Hi, I’m Tiffany, and I’ll be your server. Are you ready to order?”

“Just water for me,” I request, while my mother says, “I’ll have a latte.”

So, that’s where Ford got his nasty habit of adding frothy milk to his coffee.

“Well, there has to be a reason you called me,” she says when Tiffany is out of earshot. “Unless you’re filing for bankruptcy and you need help. I’m sorry to tell you that unlike you, we live with a pretty tight budget.”

“I don’t remember much about you, but I do remember you spoke a lot,” I say, trying to stop her because she hasn’t let me say shit.

“Your dad was the quiet one. You and Langford were also quiet. How is he doing?”

“Ford?”

She nods. “He… When my kids were in elementary school, there was this boy who reminded me a lot of him.”

I glare at her. “If you’re about to spill some shit that is going to piss me off, don’t do it,” I warn her.

“So, you’re still protective of him,” she looks around. “Why is he not here?”

“Because he’s the practical one,” I respond. “He moved on with his life, unlike me. I’m still wondering what happened to you. Why did you leave us?”

“Of course, the inquisitive one,” she states, looking at her hands for several beats. “That was my other guess.”

She finally looks up and stares at me. “It’s complicated.”

“I’m smart enough to keep up. Why don’t you try me?”

“How much did your father tell you?”

“My father’s version isn’t up for discussion,” I say. She doesn’t need to know that he doesn’t talk about her. Once she left, her pictures disappeared, and we never mentioned her again.

She nods. “He’s a difficult man,” she leads with the best-known fact about my father. “As an only child, his parents raised him to believe that he was perfect. The rest of us had to worship him,