Her All Along - Page 51

Pipsqueak took a much-needed break and turned to me with a look I’d only seen in Willow’s eyes before. She was frustrated, beyond overwhelmed, and ready to plead. So, I pulled her in for a hug and squeezed her as hard as I could.

“Thank you,” she rasped.

“Don’t mention it.” I ushered her to the back of the tent and exchanged a quick glance with Mary. A subtle shake of my head to let her know she didn’t have to swoop in. To which she nodded and took our place up at the counter in case stragglers stopped by.

Darius had stepped out to get us some coffee, and James was dozing off in his chair.

Must be nice to be able to fall asleep anywhere.

“You outdid yourself today,” I murmured against the top of Pipsqueak’s head. “I think you need a selection for—what did you call us?—poor suckers born without a sweet tooth.”

She chuckled shakily. “Already thought of that.”

I smiled into her hair. “Of course you have.”

“Darius requested one with coffee in it.”

“I’d definitely get that.” It sounded good. “I’m so proud of you.”

She let out a breath, and some of the tension began to leave her shoulders.

So, that was one day down and six to go.

Sixteen

“That’s a shitload of material, Mr. B!”

“Wait, so we’re gonna read all this?”

“Mr. Becker—”

“Save your bitching for Mr. Hayashi,” I ordered, referring to the substitute teacher who would cover for me soon. By a stroke of sheer luck, one of my old professors from college had responded when I’d put out feelers in the community about my upcoming paternity leave. Kin Hayashi had more degrees than anyone I knew, and my students didn’t know how fortunate they were to have him fill in for me. He’d retired a few years ago but was bored out of his mind.

I was a decent history teacher, but my specialty and passion lay in civics and economics, so my two classes of seniors were about to get treated to something my previous classes hadn’t. A world-class history professor. Which was why I’d managed to convince our principal to put history in the first semester—along with geography. I didn’t want to waste Mr. Hayashi’s brilliant mind.

After I’d finished handing out the lists of reading material, I leaned back against my desk and folded my arms over my chest.

“As mentioned, I’ll stop by before the semester is over,” I said, “but Mr. Hayashi will be in charge. This is his list I’m handing out. You will treat him with respect, and you will do yourselves a big fucking favor and listen to every word he says. Any questions?”

Trisha raised her hand, and I nodded at her.

“When you stop by for a visit, can you bring your baby?”

I lifted my brows as several of the girls gushed in agreement. “Uh, no.”

Another hand flew into the air.

I suppressed a sigh. “Yes, Ms. Washington.”

“Is it a boy or a girl?” she asked excitedly.

I already felt bad for Mr. Hayashi.

That said…I couldn’t stop a smile from tugging at the corners of my mouth. “It’s a girl.”

“Hey—precious cargo. Can you let me get the damn door?” I understood that Taylor had wanted to distance herself from the pregnancy, but she couldn’t walk around and act like there wasn’t a baby inside her.

We were down to the last two weeks.

Today was the first time I got to accompany her to the doctor.

I rounded the car and extended a hand to her, ignoring her stubborn scowl, and I helped her out.

Since I knew she’d been uncomfortable the one time she’d let me touch her stomach, I had to settle for watching it a lot. And it seemed it expanded every time I blinked. Add a thick jacket, and she was all belly. A waddling little nest for the baby.

I did my best to keep pretty much every emotion and thought to myself, as difficult as it was becoming. But it was a way to protect myself too. It was the baby, not my daughter. I read about what to expect every single day, but I had yet to buy anything I needed for her arrival. Because part of me was still scared shitless that this wasn’t going to happen. And I didn’t know why. Taylor had kept her word about everything thus far.

We made our way into the private hospital where Taylor would deliver the baby. It was small, everyone had a private suite, the staff greeted patients by name at the entrance, and I was sure it cost an arm and a leg.

I’d offered to pay for the whole thing, considering she was doing this for me, and she’d declined. She’d said this was for her too. She wanted the best of the best, she wanted to be as comfortable as possible, she wanted privacy.

She’d added in a half-guilty tone that I would be the one taking care of the baby for the rest of my life. Because once she’d signed away her rights, she was gone.

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