Page 34 of Finding Alexei
“Where’s Jase tonight? The kids?” I ask Tracey. It’s way too quiet for her two- and three-year-olds to be here.
“He took them to pick up ice cream for dessert. They’ll be back in a little bit.”
I nod. So Ryleigh will really get thrown into the crazy tonight. I swear it’s like my sister gives those kids caffeine.
“So, Ryleigh, do you want something to drink?” Tracey asks, her voice a little louder than necessary.
Ryleigh’s eyes meet mine, and I give her a slight nod. “Go ahead. I’ll take Ella.”
Ryleigh places her into my arms and goes with my sister to the kitchen. Valerie follows them, leaving me along with my mother.
Ma’s face contorts as she stalks closer to press a finger into my chest. “Is she yours, Alexei? So help me God . . .”
This has been my mom’s biggest fear since I was in high school. She always preached safe sex, and warned me about women who would want to trap me into parenthood and child support once I hit it big.
I shake my head. “She’s not mine.”
My mother physically sags with relief.
Some weird part of me wants to add, But I wish she were.
“Ryleigh is a woman I’ve started seeing. She’s amazing, Ma. And Ella’s mom split, so Ryleigh stepped up. It’s complicated, but it’s also not.”
My mother’s eyes widen, and she nods. “Come on. Your sisters are probably roasting her over an open flame right about now.”
I grin. Mom doesn’t know Ryleigh. She may look sweet and innocent, but trust me, she can hold her own. Even against my sisters.Chapter ThirteenRyleighI’ve just dumped a load of laundry onto my bed to fold and settled Ella onto her Boppy pillow on the bed beside the pile of clothes. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed having easy access to a washing machine. This is way better than hauling clothes to a laundromat. Ella lets out a little squeal of approval, mirroring my sentiments exactly.
“You might as well learn now.” I smile at her.
Folding her clothes is a snap. They’re so unbelievably tiny; I still don’t think I’m used to it. I make a little stack of baby onesies and socks next to my leggings and sweatshirts. Then I smirk.
Somehow one of Alexei’s T-shirts has gotten mixed in with my load of laundry. I hold it up next to my body. It’s enormous. The sight of it mixed in with Ella’s stuff and mine makes me smile. He’s at practice this morning—yes, I may have already looked at the clock at least seven times, already ready for him to be back home.
Last night went so much smoother than I imagined. Meeting his mother was nerve-racking, but once we started talking, I think I won her over. She seemed so surprised and impressed that I was caring for a baby who wasn’t mine.
Ella makes a squeal of happiness, and I chuckle at her. “You’re a good little helper, aren’t you?”
I fold Alexei’s shirt with care and place it onto the stack just as my cell phone rings. I grab it from the bedside table to answer.
It’s Andi.
Holy shit. Finally.
My heart jumps. “Andi? Where are you?”
“I am so sorry. Is Ella okay?” She sounds tired and scared. It rattles something inside me.
My gaze drifts to Ella, where she lays on the bed. “She’s fine. Where have you been?”
“I’ll explain everything in person. Are you home?”
Hot shame burns through me. She trusted me with her baby, and now here I am homeless. But I can’t tell her that. Not until I know what the hell is going on.
“No, actually. But I can meet you somewhere. The coffee shop on the corner near the apartment.”
“Sure,” she says.
“Give me twenty minutes.”
We end the call and I pack up Ella, buckling her into her carrier with a fuzzy blanket, and wonder if this is the last time I’ll do this. Trying to hold back tears as I look at her, tears for this little baby who’s been under my care for the past two weeks, so much so that I’m starting to get attached to her. But I can do this. So I grab her diaper bag filled with all her stuff, and then look down at her angelic face.
“Come on, sweetie, we’re going to see your mommy.”
I think about texting Alexei to let him know I’m going out, and then decide against it. He probably won’t see my text since he’s on the practice field, and if he does happen to see it, he’ll probably only worry. I want to see how all this will play out first, and then I’ll call him later.
We arrive at the coffee shop, and Andi is already there. When I spot her across the room, my knees buckle. She looks even frailer than she did two weeks ago, and her hair is completely gone, at least as far as I can tell with the silk scarf wrapped around her head. Her face is pale, but her eyes light up when she sees us. She rises on unsteady feet, placing both hands flat against the table to help with her balance.
