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“Her name was Lisa. She wasn’t my girlfriend, just a woman I dated a few times.” He narrows his eyes. “Haven’t I ever told you this story?”
I shake my head. “Not completely. All I know is that her mom didn’t want her.” I look down at the counter. “I guess when it came to talking about babies, I wasn’t very receptive, huh?”
“Understandable.” He puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “You always seemed to zone out whenever I started talking about how I came to be a single dad, or what Stella and I went through, so I just stopped bringing it up.” He kisses my temple. “I wish I’d known about Christopher.”
“I was just wondering today, earlier when I felt the kicks, what kind of big brother he’d be.”
“I’m sure he would have been their protector.”
I smile. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
I put noodles in the boiling water and listen to him tell me about becoming Darla’s dad.
“Lisa wanted to have an abortion. She only told me about the baby because she couldn’t afford to pay for one.” He finishes with the salad and leans against the counter, crossing his feet at the ankles. “My dad had just passed away and I was trying to figure out life with twelve-year-old Marti. It would have been so easy to just give her the money and be done with it. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. The baby was a part of me. And every time I thought about Lisa having an abortion, I’d think about my mother. She found out she had cancer when she was pregnant with Marti. The doctors told her she should terminate and get treatment. She refused because she already loved the baby growing inside her. I knew if my mom could make that kind of sacrifice, that I could handle anything.”
My voice is thick with emotion when I say, “I think I would have loved your mom.”
He smiles. “She would have loved you too. Anyway, it took a lot of convincing to persuade Lisa to have the baby. She hated being pregnant. We were never together again romantically because she resented me. I was never close enough to her to feel I had the right to touch her or feel the baby. I wasn’t invited to any of her appointments. I was terrified that she wasn’t taking good care of the baby or that she was drinking or worse, but the more I pressed her, the more she cut me off. I didn’t even know she’d had Bug until a nurse at the hospital called and asked me to come in.”
He expels a gush of air. “Lisa didn’t even stay the night. She signed herself out against medical advice. She gave the nurse the papers I had a lawyer draw up. The ones naming me the father and legal guardian. The ones rescinding her parental rights. And then she just left. We never saw each other again.”
My jaw is slack as I realize just how much Asher and I have in common. “So we both had a baby the other parent wanted to abort.”
“Wow, I guess we did.” He blows out a long breath. “God, how I wish your story would have turned out differently.”
I nod. “Have you told Bug about Christopher?”
“No. I figured it wasn’t my place to. If you want her to know about him, you can tell her when you feel the time is right.”
“You know, we have the anatomy scan in a few weeks. What would you think about inviting Bug to come?”
He looks surprised. “You’d do that?”
“They’re her siblings.”
Fire blazes in his eyes as he traps me against the counter. “Do you know how much I love you?”
The oven beeps and I kiss him swiftly then get the garlic bread out. We take all the food to the table. But before we eat, Imake up a third plate and hand it to Asher. “You should take this to Bug in case she’s hungry.”
He gazes deep into my eyes. “Damn, I hit the jackpot with you.”
I look at him, confused.
He takes the plate. “You’re already a great mom, Al.”
As he leaves the room, I cradle my belly, savoring his words, hoping he’s right and that I can be a good mom toallof our kids.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Allie
I look around the table, suddenly aware of how much I’m going to miss these family breakfasts.
We’ve had them for as long as I can remember, going way back to when I was little. Even as we got older and my brothers moved out, they would randomly show up for Mom’s famous bacon pancakes. It’s down to only once or twice a week now, but you can be sure Mom is always prepared and never runs out of fresh batter.
“Everything okay?” Mom asks me, putting a heaping plate down as Lucas stabs a pancake before the platter even hits the table.
I shrug. “I was just thinking how I’m going to miss these spontaneous family gatherings.”