The Boy Toy - Nicola Marsh Page 0,70
she could see they loved each other, but it made her feel bad that her disastrous marriage had affected them almost as much as it had her.
She’d been lucky growing up with parents who adored each other, and she’d reveled in their love, but it irked that she’d never really thought of how her mom coped without having her husband and daughter around for the last five years.
She’d been selfish, blaming her mom for her failed marriage, when she should’ve been reestablishing a relationship rather than punishing her. And now that she’d be bringing her own child into this world, and probably raising him or her alone in LA, it made her want to cherish her mom even more.
“What’s got into you, betee? Why are you asking these questions about loneliness?”
Samira inhaled and blew out a breath to steady her nerves. “I have something to tell you.”
Kushi had been spooning okra onto a plate, and the ladle paused midair. “Let me guess. You’re leaving earlier than expected.”
Considering Samira couldn’t wait to flee Melbourne five years earlier after her dad’s funeral, it wasn’t such a stretch for her mom to jump to that conclusion.
“No.” She eased the ladle out of her grasp and placed it back in the pot, and took the plate from her mom’s hand and set it on the table, before gesturing at the seat next to her. “Come sit.”
“This sounds serious.” Worry creased Kushi’s brow. “It’s not your health, is it? Sushma’s sister-in-law’s cousin had a recent scare with ovarian cancer—”
“I’m pregnant, Mom.”
Samira had planned on easing into it, but with her mom likely to go off on many dire tangents like she usually did, she had to tell her.
Kushi’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened to saucer proportions. “What?”
“I’m having a baby.” Samira placed a protective hand over her belly. “It’s early days, but I’ve had a blood test, and the doctor at work confirmed it.”
“But . . . but . . . how . . .” Kushi shook her head, still slack-jawed as she stared at her in bewilderment. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say that you’re happy for me, that you’ll support me, that you’ll love this baby as much as I will.”
Samira heard the pleading in her tone, and it must’ve got through to her mom, because Kushi leaned forward and pulled her into her arms.
“Of course I will, betee. I love you, and I will love my first grandchild with every fiber of my being.”
Tears pooled in Samira’s eyes, and she blinked them away. She couldn’t afford to cry, because she had a feeling if she started, it would be difficult to stop and she might blurt out the whole sorry mess with Pia and Rory.
When they eased apart, Samira glimpsed the sheen in her mom’s eyes too.
“That Aussie you’re seeing is the father?”
Samira nodded. “Rory.”
“So you said.” Kushi made it sound like a curse. “Have you told him?”
“Yes.”
“Is he going to marry you?”
Right now, Samira didn’t know if Rory even wanted to be involved in his child’s life, let alone anything else. Besides, she would never marry for convention. Never again.
“We don’t need to be married to raise a child.”
“Oh dear.” Kushi pressed her knuckles against her temples in a familiar gesture of disapproval. “This is not good.”
“This is very good. A grandchild, Mom. How exciting.” She reached out and clasped Kushi’s hands in hers. “I know you will have a million questions and want me to do this the traditional way. But I’m thirty-seven. I’d given up hope of ever meeting someone I’d love enough to want to marry, let alone procreate with, so this baby is a miracle, considering I have three periods a year and the condom broke once.”
Embarrassment flushed Kushi’s cheeks, before she slowly nodded. “You are right. This baby is a miracle.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “A grandchild . . .”
A beatific smile spread across her face. “I’m going to be a grandmother.”
This time when they embraced, Samira felt safe, cocooned in her mom’s love, knowing that no matter what happened, she had her mom in her corner.
Thirty-Three
Rory took it as a good sign that Samira agreed to see him. He’d tried calling her after leaving his dad’s two days ago, but it had gone through to voice mail, so he’d left a message, and while she hadn’t called him back, she’d sent a text asking him to meet her at work on her lunch break today.
Lucky he’d been called in to