Page 82 of Lizzie Blake's Best Mistake

“Hey, Mom.” The line filled with silence, and Lizzie hoped for a second that the call had magically disconnected.

“Elizabeth. How are you?”

Pregnant. Confused. A tiny bit scared.

“I’m fine!”Silence.“I got a new job.”

Her mom made a small humming sound, innocuous to an untrained ear, but Lizzie knew it as the soundtrack for disapproval.

“Another new job. Congratulations.”

Rake frowned down at the phone, but Lizzie waved a handto get his attention and smiled.It’s okay. This is our talks going well.

“Did Mary tell you I’m making the cake for your party?” Lizzie asked, hating how the pitch of her voice reached a new octave.

“She did.”

“I, er, I think it’s going to be really nice! Mary picked a very tasteful design. I think you’ll like it.”

“Oh, wonderful. I’m sure it will be lovely,” Claire said, not sounding sure at all. “Even though your father doesn’t indulge in sweets…”

“Oh. Yeah. I forgot. Well… I don’t know. Hopefully you like it. Or Mary at least.” Lizzie rested her palms flat on the back of the couch, lowering her head to bang it softly against her hands a few times. Claire remained silent.

“I’ve… There’s a new person in my life,” Lizzie blurted out. She still hadn’t decided on what label to use for Rake. Baby daddy was the most accurate, but she might send her mom into a tailspin with that phrasing.

Her mom hummed again, the noise sounding like grating steel and disapproval.

“I’d like to bring him. To the anniversary party, I mean.” Lizzie glanced over at Rake, and he nodded, a soft smile on his lips.

“Is that so? It’s only supposed to be for family and our close friends.”

“Well… uh… he’s like family to me,” Lizzie said honestly. “I’d like for you to get to know him.”Maybe when you see the gorgeous, wonderfully starchy father of my future child who keeps his hair well trimmed and carefully folds his underwear, you won’t judge me as harshly.

The silence lingered, making Lizzie squirm.

“Well, we’d be happy to host him,” her mother said at last, sounding resigned.

“Yeah?” A wary voice in Lizzie’s head told her not to getexcited, not to even go to the damn thing. But she couldn’t extinguish the small starburst of happiness in her chest. Just like that, she was a girl again, desperate for a bond with her mom.

“We’ll see you tomorrow. Please dress appropriately.”

“So is that a yes or a no to titty tassels?” Lizzie asked, snickering.

Claire let out a sigh. “Goodbye, Elizabeth.” She hung up.

Chapter 37

Week nineteen, baby is the size of a flying squirrel. Lizzie is convinced that’s what she’s actually carrying based on how much the little one moves around in there.

The next afternoon, Rake and Lizzie drove away from Philadelphia, traveling north toward the Pocono Mountains in an SUV they’d borrowed from Indira. Rake was typing away on his phone; Dominic had immediately rejected his request for a half day but had made the ever-so-generous concession that he could work remotely for the afternoon. Rubbing the heels of his hands against his tired eyes, he sighed, setting his phone down and giving himself a short break.

He looked over at Lizzie, who’d been disorientingly silent for most of the trip. Rake was learning that she had two modes: endless talking or complete silence. She was either exquisitely present or completely gone. He could see her chewing on the inside of her cheek, somewhere far away in her thoughts. He wanted to know every single one, understand the gears and wires that made up such a unique person. He could tell by the furrow of her brow and the tension in her jaw that something was bothering her.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, tugging gently ona lock of her hair. She snapped back into her body, blinking like she wasn’t sure how she got there.

“Mirrors,” she said, glancing over her shoulder as she changed lanes.

Rake blinked. “What?”