Is this what would become of Kimber if she gave into the feelings of love filling her chest right now? If she made the mistake of believing she and Landon were “forever” material? Would she be here, in her mother’s position thirty-two years later, casting shadows of doubt over her own daughter’s future?
God. She hoped not.
“You will keep your business, right?” her mother asked worriedly.
“Yes, of course.” In every imagined scenario of her future Kimber hadn’t dreamed of giving up Hobo Chic. The store was her lifeblood. Her mother knew about Mick, knew they’d dated and split, but she didn’t tell her how Mick owned half of Hobo Chic. Heaven forbid Grace find out her only daughter had attached herself to a man who was now partly responsible for keeping her business afloat. She would totally freak.
“You don’t have anything to worry about, Mom. I’m going to raise my child, and Landon is… very well-off. Child support will not be an issue,” she added for her mother’s benefit.
“They say that in the beginning, but you know your father complained about the two years he had to pay yours.”
TMI. But this wasn’t her argument. She rested her hand over her mother’s. “Let’s focus on now. What’s the first thing I need to do to prepare for this baby?”
The next afternoon, Kimber kissed and hugged her mother after loading up her car with purchases from the local Babies ‘R’ Us. Grace had gone a little shopping-happy, but as she was a future grandmother, Kimber figured that was her prerogative. Plus, unless Kimber dipped into the money she had squirreled away to buy Mick out of Hobo Chic, she really couldn’t afford expensive items like strollers and breast pumps. Grace’s doting, in this case, was much appreciated. Planning very, very far into the future, but appreciated all the same.
“You won’t miscarry,” her mother had told her as she climbed in the car. “Unplanned pregnancies never miscarry.”
She’d tried not to take her mother’s remark too personally.
Since hauling her purchases up the steep stairs to her apartment was not advised, Kimber had no choice but to ask for help when she returned home. She thought about calling Landon. He’d called yesterday but she ignored it, unsure what she’d say if she answered, or if she wanted him to know she’d driven to Ohio by herself.
For some reason, she was afraid if he knew she’d left town without telling him, he might feel hurt. Or worse, offer to show up. Then ask her to go to his father’s house and share the news with him, too. The idea of telling his family scared her. Probably because she felt as if she and Landon were in a waiting period. Only, waiting for what, she had no idea.
Inside Hobo Chic, Neil was busy with customers and Mick was in the storeroom. She debated for a moment before approaching him. Did she really want Mick to know so soon?
He’s going to find out eventually. Like when you’re the size of a parade float.
With no way to argue her own logic, she cleared her throat to get Mick’s attention. He’d pulled back the front of his hair with a clip so it wouldn’t fall into his face when he bent over. The urge to resurrect an old argument—he always procrastinated getting his hair cut—sat unspoken in her throat. This is not why you’re here.
“Can you do me a favor?” she asked with a smile.
He skimmed her body with eager eyes and waggled his eyebrows. His lips lifted into an almost charming curve, making her remember his rakish appeal the night they’d met. Too bad they got along as well as a pair of cats in a potato sack.
“I am at your service, Red.”
“You are a pain in the butt,” she told him, an errant smirk on her face. “But Neil’s busy. Come on.” She led him outside to the alley and popped the trunk. The stroller was in there, price tag still hanging, along with several bags.
His eyes flitted over the store name on the bags, leaving no doubt as to what she was stockpiling for, then back to the stroller, then to Kimber. “Say it ain’t so.”
She sniffed. “Thanks a lot. Can you take the heavy stuff up?” She reached for one of the lighter bags.
He stopped her hand. “I’ll take it all up. You rest.”
“I’m pregnant, not sick.” Fortunately, that was true. The dreaded morning sickness hadn’t come. Yet, anyway. Maybe she’d be lucky enough to avoid it altogether.
Mick had the supplies in her house in three trips. With the last haul, he collapsed on the sofa to catch his breath. “Where are you going to put a baby in this place?”