A Baby Affair (Parent Portal 2)

She didn’t know what to say. Not standing there in a coffee shop.

“You’re her!” Angie said, pushing her way past a stool in her path. “You’re just like Mom!”

More people heard her than just the two women next to them. Other than a peripheral vision realization, Amelia didn’t bother checking to see who, or how many. Her eyes were focused on her sister’s back as Angie walked out on her. She was pregnant, attempting to build a family, and it seemed to be fracturing in front of her very eyes instead.

Chapter Ten

“Angie!” Chasing after her sister on the beach, Amelia called out to her a second time. Angie didn’t stop. Didn’t even slow down. Until, half a mile down from where they’d parked their cars, Angie suddenly dropped to the sand in her nice clothes, sitting with her legs up, her arms wrapped around them, staring out to the ocean.

Other people milled around.

Angie’s cheeks were wet. Two small streams still trickled down them.

“Angie... I swear to you...”

The woman shook her head of long, fire-red hair, strands sticking to the tears on her face.

“I’m so sorry, Mel.” She turned as Amelia dropped down beside her, the sand cold and hard against the butt of the leggings she had on, in preparation for bike riding that she might or might not be doing that afternoon.

If she couldn’t make this right with Angie, she wasn’t going.

“What are you sorry for?” she asked, genuinely confused.

“For what I said back there. About you being like Mom.”

The words had stung, particularly coming from her sister, but... “They’re true,” she said with a shrug.

“Yeah, in some ways,” Angie said, turning to look at her, her expression almost fierce. “But I said it like Duane used to, like it’s a bad thing, and it’s not, Mel. You’ve got her best qualities. Her compassion. Her loyalty. Her determination to love fiercely.”

Love stupidly. Unhealthily, she silently corrected.

“I just... I can’t believe I just...it’s like I heard Duane’s words in my brain, mixed in with panic and just spewed them.” Angie shook her head. “I can’t believe I did that.” She turned to Amelia again. “I’m just so sorry. That I would...me... I’m the last...”

“It’s okay.” Love flowed through Amelia as she put an arm around her sister. “He said a helluva lot worse things to me. And coming from you, no matter the tone, they don’t mean what they did coming from him.”

Angie nodded. Took her hand, and turned to face her. “But what if I meant them?” she almost whispered. They were far enough up from the water that the surf was like white noise in the distance. And in January, there wasn’t as much marine life around as there would be in a few months. Amelia thought about sand crabs for a moment. And then tides. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that she would always be okay. No matter what.

“I didn’t mean to spew them,” Angie finally said, her tone soft. As sweet as ever. Sorry. “I didn’t even mean to say them. But...”

“You aren’t wrong,” Amelia couldn’t bear to leave her sister hanging there, feeling awful for speaking the truth. “I am like her. Which is why I’ve made the life decisions I’ve made.”

Angie knew this. They’d talked about it.

But knowing and believing were two very different things.

“I’m not kidding around here, Ang. Or keeping a door open. There’s not even a crack in a window,” she added, panicking for a moment when she thought of the rush of attraction she’d felt for Craig Harmon. Several times the night before. All the guy had to do was say something that reached inside her and she’d melted.

But she’d never left her seat. Never even thought about doing so.

Because she couldn’t.

“I have to be accountable to what I know about myself. Just like Duane has to keep himself out of the bars with his friends.”

“He went to one yesterday for lunch,” Angie said. “Which is why I stayed in Santa Barbara so long. I had to make certain he came home sober.”

Sitting cross-legged now, her knees touching Angie’s as they sat like twins in the sand, facing each other, Amelia asked, “And?”

Angie’s nod sent relief flooding through her. For their mother’s sake. “He was dry as could be. It was kind of awkward, though,” she added. “He knew why I’d stayed, and instead of just letting it go, he looked straight at me and thanked me for loving my mother that much. And then told me that he wasn’t even tempted to take a sip of alcohol, and hadn’t been since...that day. He said...it...haunts him and any time he envisions himself holding even a bottle of beer, he gets a sick feeling inside.”