Page 8 of The Cold Ride

4

The moment I reached our place, I leaned against the door and attempted to collect myself. I could barely wrap my mind around the disaster of epic proportions that had blown into my life. Of all the confrontations I’d anticipated arising today, James’s sudden reappearance in my life and being forced to confront Amelia’s father hadn’t made it onto the list.

I knew this day would come—eventually—but I figured I had more time. And honestly, there were times I selfishly thought we could avoid it entirely.

I had ninety-nine problems before they waltzed through my door. And now I had so many I didn’t know where to begin to deal with this. Nor had I a clue how to handle this one, because it was a doozy. My heart pounded in my chest. I was freaking out. The secret I’d kept all these years had been discovered.

I’d hidden my pregnancy from James. It had been the dumbest decision of my life. I knew that. Because it had been stupid and selfish of me to hide it from him. But I’d been young, scared, heartbroken, and hadn’t known how to handle telling him the truth on top of dealing with my divorce.

Because I’d fallen for James the night we met. And I hadn’t known how to deal with any of it. Not my divorce. Not my feelings for one of my husband’s best friends. Not the night we’d spent together. And certainly not my unexpected pregnancy. I’d known from the moment I realized I was late and missed a period whose child I carried. I’d been lost and alone, with no one to confide in or ask their opinion on the matter.

All I’d known from the moment I stared at the pregnancy test with the double pink lines telling me I was pregnant was that I loved them already, even though I was terrified. And that I would do whatever was necessary to take care of them.

Inhaling a deep, steadying breath in an attempt to shield Amelia from my rioting emotions, I shoved away from the door, put the room keys in my front pocket, and found my girl at the kitchen table munching on yogurt and goldfish crackers. She’d already hung up her purple coat and backpack on the hooks in our entryway foyer.

Our home was a simple shotgun design. The foyer opened into the living room and dining room. Beyond that was the kitchen and a hallway leading to three bedrooms. In the basement was a family room, laundry room, and storage. It wasn’t a lot of room, but I loved it because it was home.

Love for her swamped me. It never failed to amaze me that I could love someone this much, but I did. She was kind, intelligent, and had a curiosity about the world with this exuberance for life that awed me on a daily basis.

I leaned down and kissed the top of her head, inhaling her scent of coconuts and sweat. “How was school today?”

“It was crazy. Billy threw up in gym class. It was so disgusting and went everywhere on the gym floor. Mr. Abrams had to move us while the janitor cleaned up the puke.”

Oh yuck! I winced, my already jumbled stomach roiling at the story. And I prayed he wasn’t contagious. I loved kids, but they were little more than carrier monkeys. I could handle a lot of illnesses. I’d taken care of Henry and Sue toward the end. But a stomach bug with vomiting involved was another level. It’d take everything inside me not to toss my lunch. “That’s unfortunate.” To say the least. “Did you turn in your math homework?”

“Yep. But she gave us more math.” Amelia sighed.

I ground my teeth. Because of course she kept on getting math homework. It had been my worst subject in school. And then they had to go and change math. Talk about epically dumb ideas. Which meant I spent my evenings after she went to bed reading her textbook and trying to learn the new math. And I know, it’s supposed to be this easier and better way to learn it, blah, blah, blah. But it wasn’t. Why someone decided we needed to change math was beyond me. I think I speak for every parent when I say change it back. “We’ll tackle your homework after dinner. You can watch some tv until dinnertime.”

“Mama, who are those men?”

I knew the question would come up. But I still grimaced when she asked me.

“Just some old friends of mine.” And one of them I had been naked friends with, and that’s how you came into being. But I couldn’t tell her yet that James was her father.

I mean, I would.

It was unavoidable now. The decision had been yanked from my control. It would happen whether I was ready for it or not. And I wasn’t ready. But then, I doubted I would ever be ready for the upcoming conversation with James.

However, I acted like the queen of serenity with Amelia.

She didn’t need to know how much I’d messed up or the mountain of inner turmoil suffocating me. Nor that the lies I’d told had been uttered with the best intentions. Because I’d wanted to protect her and myself.

My life had been in a precarious state when she was conceived.

Meeting James and being with him had upended my entire existence. I’d fallen and never quite gotten back up again. What I felt for him was unlike anything I’d felt before for anyone, and I handled the fallout poorly. Because it left me reeling. The one time I approached him to discuss what happened between us that night, he told me to never contact him again.

So I hadn’t.

“I need to go show them to their rooms for the night,” I explained, wishing I had ushered them out the door instead of giving them a place to stay. As if I could avoid the confrontation that was almost a decade in the making.

“But the inn is closed?” Amelia frowned in confusion.

“I know. But I’m not charging them to stay here. They’re friends passing through town and need a place to stay for the night.”

“You should invite them to dinner.”

“Are you sure?” Please say no, baby. Mom doesn’t want to stare at James over our evening meal. I was already having a difficult time holding my shit together.

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