Kitchen Boss

I place my hands on her shoulders. “Maisie, what do you mean?”

“I love you,” she repeats. “It means I’m going to make you my mom.”

Her words fill my chest with warmth and my mind with clarity.

She’s right. That’s what love is – a choice. It’s not what you feel. It’s what you choose to do.

And I think I know what my choice is.

I brush the wisp of hair from Maisie’s cheek and smile. “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

She gives an even wider smile.

I pat her head and get on my feet. “Let me just change, okay? I just – ”

I stop as a wave of nausea washes over me. I grip the edge of the bed as my legs wobble.

“Cathy?”

I sit on the edge of the bed and touch my forehead. “Sorry, sweetheart. I just need a minute.”

Worry gleams in her eyes. “But what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. I just… Lately, there have been times when I don’t feel so well.”

“So why don’t you go to a doctor?”

I look into Maisie’s eyes. Why not indeed? It’s the only way for me to find out if there’s something wrong, and if there isn’t, then at least I can finally get some peace of mind instead of worrying and making other people worry.

I touch her cheek. “Why not?”

~

“I have the results of your tests here, Ms. Jeffries.” Dr. Ivers glances at the papers on his desk. “Are you ready to hear them?”

I cross my fingers before nodding.

Please don’t let it be cancer.

“I’m ready, Doctor.”

He draws a deep breath. I hold mine.

“Ms. Jeffries, you’re pregnant.”

My jaw drops. No shit.

That didn’t cross my mind at all. Now that he’s said it, though, everything makes sense. The nausea. The headaches. The appetite. And the fact that my period hasn’t arrived yet.

Then of course, there’s the fact that I’ve been having so much sex.

I touch my forehead. Why didn’t I think I was pregnant?

“Ms. Jeffries?”

“I’m fine,” I tell the doctor.

I actually am relieved. And happy. I can’t explain it, but right now, I feel like I’m about to burst with joy.

I’m pregnant.

“Thank you, Doctor.” I stand up and shake his hand.

“Congratulations, Ms. Jeffries.” He hands me some papers. “Here are your test results, a prescription for your prenatal vitamins, and a schedule for your prenatal check-ups.”

“Thank you.”

I walk out of his clinic with a spring in my step.

I’m pregnant. With Jackson’s child. I can’t wait to tell him. Now, I have two pieces of good news to tell him.

I pause. Wait. I can’t just tell him this plainly. This is special, so I have to plan a special way to tell him. Thankfully, I already have an idea, and I know just the person who can help me with it.

I take out my phone and dial Ken’s number. She answers after the third ring.

“Cathy?”

“Ken, I need a favor. But first, I have a secret to tell you.”

~

It’s a hard secret to keep, I realize as I color pictures with Maisie in the living room.

I haven’t told her about it. I just said the doctor said I was okay. But I already feel restless. What about when Jackson comes home? Will I be able to keep my mouth shut then?

The sound of the doorbell makes me jump. I force myself to take a deep breath before walking to the door.

Who can that be? Jackson? Did he forget his keys? Or maybe it’s Ken.

It’s neither, though. Rather, it’s a woman in her forties in a grey dress.

“Is Mr. Jackson Holloway in?” she asks.

“Not yet, no,” I answer. “How can I help you?”

“Kindly see to it that he gets these papers.” She hands me an envelope. “It’s important.”

“Of course.”

She leaves. I go back inside the house and close the door. On my way back to the living room, I can’t stop staring at the envelope.

Papers? What papers?

The envelope isn’t sealed, and unable to restrain my curiosity, I take a peek. As I realize what the documents are, I nearly fall to the floor.

No!

Chapter 22

Jackson

“What is the meaning of this?” I throw the papers on the coffee table in Betty’s hotel suite.

She flips a page of the magazine on her lap. “Those papers are exactly what they say they are. Andy and I are petitioning the court for full custody of Maisie.”

“Why?” I ask through gritted teeth.

Ever since I read the notice of custody hearing, I’ve been simmering like a pan of poached fish.

Betty, on the other hand, seems the epitome of serenity. There’s not a wrinkle on her face.

“Why don’t you take a seat, Jackson?” she asks me without meeting my gaze. “Would you like some water? Coffee? Whiskey?”

I place my hands on my hips. “I want to know why you’re trying to take Maisie from me. I thought you were going to leave us alone.”

Betty sighs. “I thought so, too. After I spoke to Cathy, I thought it would be fine to leave Maisie in your care and hers.”