Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 124320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
The kitchen, Mama’s confessional, is completely quiet. Even the refrigerator holds its breath while she gathers her thoughts and I gather my scattered wits.
“We didn’t plan it,” Mama says. “But she was miserable here and missing her family. I was resentful, felt like I was carrying all the load with your father gone so much, and I missed him. Missed being…touched, seen.”
Mama huffs a short breath.
“We were careless when we went to the lake house. Stopped to grab something from the corner store up there. Al found the receipt, asked questions…” She gives a sad laugh and shake of her head. “Ruth is a terrible liar.”
She hasn’t looked at me while she told the story, but now her sad eyes find mine. “Love is not a tidy thing, Kimba. It can’t ever be perfect because none of us are. Someone at some point will make a mess. The test of that love is how you clean it up. Your father stayed and we cleaned it up together.”
Mama turns back to the counter, snapping string beans again.
“I’m glad you were able to stop Serena Washington,” Mama says. “That night, the four of us agreed we would never tell. We all had things to lose. This would be a scandal now. But then?”
Mama bends a meaningful look on me. “Back then? Our lives would have been ruined. I would have told the world what I just told you if it meant clearing your father’s name, though. For Ruth’s sake, I’m glad we won’t have to.”
I have questions but asking them would feel like defiling an offering Mama made freely. She told me what she thought I should know, and that’s good enough for me.
“I hated losing her,” Mama says, smiling. “As a friend. We knew what happened between us was a mistake almost before it started, but sometimes when you’re lonely and hurt, you’ll try anything to feel better.”
“Thank you for telling me.” I swallow my curiosity and shock. “I think… I suspect Mrs. Stern told Ezra, too.”
Mama grins and transfers the string beans from the sink into a pot. “Ruth and I always thought you two would find your way. I thought we had ruined it, but I guess fate had other ideas.”
My laugh is bitter, hollow. “Fate has a sick sense of humor.”
“Explain,” Mama says, frowning.
“After all these years we finally found our way back to each other at just the right time when he’s free, but his ex is now pregnant and I’m in perimenopause.”
“Pregnant?” Mama searches my face. “What are you going to do?”
“He’s on his way here. Aiko was going to the doctor, so he should know now if it’s his or not.” I slump against the counter. “Mama, if it’s his, I can’t do it. I can’t watch her carry his baby while I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to have one. Congressman Ruiz’s campaign is my first truly solo, without Lennix. I want to get this right. I have to. I hope Ruiz would make a difference for people here in Georgia who need help. It’s gonna be the fight of my life.”
“Do you love him?” Mama asks softly.
I close my eyes, not wanting to answer that. Not having to. My heart answers for me, pounding Ezra’s name into my chest. “Yes.”
“This happened before you and Ezra got together?”
“Yes, but what if…”
A million what ifs crowd my mind and poison my soul.
If anyone gets hurt when things go south, it’ll be you.
Mona was so right. This is about as south as things could go, and if I lose Ezra, the hurt will be unbearable.
“It sounds like you don’t want right now,” Mama says. “But you do want forever.”
“That about sums it up. If there’s any forever left when this is over.”
“When it comes to love, some messes take longer than others to clean up.” Mama’s smile is wise. “Believe me—I know.”
Chapter Forty-Six
Ezra
It’s just a slip of paper, but my hand trembles holding it.
“God, I forgot about these,” Aiko says, popping a large pill and chasing it with water. “You’ll have to remind me to take them. Remember with Noah I couldn’t ever remember my pre-natals?”
“Yeah,” I say, my fingers, my voice numb. “That was a long time ago. They have apps now to remind you.”
She crosses around the counter to the kitchen table where I sit holding the ultrasound. On the flimsy paper, a little form floats in its own starless galaxy. At the very bottom, tracking its orbit, are the letters and numbers that sink my heart.
7w2d.
Seven weeks. Two days.
The baby’s mine. Any life that is just beginning deserves some celebration, but today, right now, it feels like my life is over.
At least my life with Kimba.
“I need to go out.” I stand to leave.
“Out?” Aiko takes another sip of water.
I don’t answer but gather my keys from the dish on the counter.