Page 78 of Husband of the Year
“The thing is, even though Olan’s folks are taking custody, I feel like Olan might wish he were. We were.” I close my eyes, waiting for her reaction.
“Did he say that?”
“Not exactly. But he’s gaga for Greggie. And he’s already offered for us to take him summers.”
“Have you talked to him about this? About taking full custody?”
I shake my head and shrug.
“Marvin, you need to talk to your fiancé. And soon.”
“He’s calling tomorrow night. I was going to then.”
“How do you feel about it?”
“I’m not sure… I’m cut out for it.”
“For what? Being a parent?”
“Yeah. A dad. I mean, I don’t really have a role model of a good father.”
“Marvin, your dad was a complete shmendrik. He has no idea whathe missed. Is missing. And listen to me…” She scoots a little closer and takes my hand. “You would be the most amazing father in the world. Look at Illona. I know, I know, it’s only been two years and technically you’re going to be her stepfather, but labels mean nothing. This.” She pokes my chest, right near my heart. “This is what matters. This makes family. You don’t have to worry about being a good father—you already are one. I can see it with my own eyes.”
“Thanks, Mom. I appreciate that.” I know she’s right, but a nagging worry still pokes inside my chest. “Illona is easy. And she’s seven. This is a baby. A tiny, helpless baby.”
“And you don’t have to do it alone.” Mom smiles and then shakes her head. “No, not me.” She lifts her chin and takes a deep breath. She nods, her lips pressed together firmly. I know that nod well. Her confident stance means she’s deciding something important—I sense a shift. “I’m going home on Monday. I’ll call the airline and reserve a seat today. You don’t need me here anymore.” She looks around the kitchen, nodding slowly. “Even with a baby coming home. You have Olan. And all your friends. You’ve built quite a support system here. People love you. You’re easy to love. Remember…” She pokes my chest again. “This makes family.”
“You don’t have to leave so soon,” I say as a fluttering sweeps through my stomach.
“No, I do. Lanie has an eye appointment next Friday, and you know those taxi drivers can’t be trusted. Have you seenDateline?”
“Yes, Mom. I have. With you.”
“Come here,” she says, opening her arms.
I fall into her chest and squeeze her. I’m beyond grateful she came.
“Thank you again,” I whisper in her ear.
“For what?” She pulls back. “I’m your mother. I’d do anything for you.”
“I know you would.”
My mother has made it one of her life missions to be the best mom she can be—her living amends. Just like Olan with his family. Two weeks of her staying with me. Without Olan. And it was… pleasant. I didn’t anticipate that. Maybe she needed to come and see I’m okay. Or maybe she was just missing me. The reason doesn’t matter. Her presence made the past two weeks without Olan feel less burdensome.
“And Mom,” I say, as she turns to put her mug in the dishwasher. “Let’s plan another visit for you soon.”
“I’d like that,” she says. “There may be a baby for me to spoil.”
“Maybe.”
I’m mentally preparing myself for Olan’s call tomorrow night. Maybe he has no desire to take custody. Maybe he’s simply a doting uncle and having Greggie with us for summers is all he wants. Or maybe he’s afraid to tell me how he feels. Of my reaction. Of how I’ll be as a parent. Does he worry about me with Illona? He left her with me. At least Mondays through Fridays and every other weekend. I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and lower my shoulders. I will not spiral about this. This is Olan and me. We communicate. We talk about our feelings. We’re getting married. It’s time for us to have this conversation.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“There’s my adorable babe.”
Olan’s face fills the screen of my phone and my chest instantly calms at his presence. He’s alone. It’s not quite nine and I’m guessing Greggie is sleeping. Olan isn’t in the same room he was in last time. He’s on a bed. I’m presuming his bed and all I can make out is the wood headboard behind him. He’s wearing a white tank top—the one he loves to put on under his dress shirts—and the sight of his beautiful skin sends a wave of lust shooting to my groin. And then my body quickly remembers the topic I need to bring up and I hope Olan can’t hear my heart thumping like a bass drum.
