The Player and the Single Mom

ChapterEleven

Sera

“Mama, will you be honest with me? For real?”

Every single parent knows that was a trap. A straight-up, no way out, trap. “Of course, baby.”

Already lying.

“Are you pregnant?”

I choked on my stupid suck-ass decaf coffee. After I coughed and wiped my watering eyes, I tried to buy time. “Why would you ask that?”

“It’s, like, so obvious. You’re drinking decaf. You keep disappearing to puke and then pretend that it’s stomach problems from lactose intolerance. Lactose intolerance gives you diarrhea, it doesn’t make you throw up. You totally fell asleep watching The Bachelorette with me, which is not like you. You love to yell at the guys on that show and call them douchebags. Plus, Cash is being weird around you. He’s using your full name and he keeps asking you how you are in this really creepy way.” Ava got a serious, moony expression on her face. She lowered her voice to approximate Cash. “How are you, Serafima? Everything good? Need anything?”

That would make me laugh if the whole situation wasn’t so serious. Cash did sound like that.

“He used to just be like, “Hey, what’s up?” She shook her head.

“Maybe he’s catching feelings for me,” I said. “We are dating, you know.” Sort of. In a manner of speaking.

“If that’s how dudes act when they date, maybe I don’t want a boyfriend.”

“You don’t,” I told her. “Not for at least another four years. Enjoy your teen years single, I’m begging you.”

“Cash also won’t let you ride now. Don’t think we haven’t noticed. And you never answered my question. Which tells me that you are totally pregnant.”

I sighed and set my coffee mug down. “Yes. I am pregnant.”

She wrinkled her nose, but she looked pleased with herself. “I knew it. God, I’m so smart. It had to be a pregnancy. The clues were all there.”

“Who’s pregnant?” Johnny asked, wandering into the kitchen in his fleece pajama pants, wearing a T-shirt, hair sticking straight up.

I opened my mouth to tell Ava to keep quiet, but she was already casually announcing, “Mama.”

Johnny stopped with his hand on the refrigerator handle. “Is Cash the dad?”

“What?” I asked, shocked by the question. “Yes, of course he is!” How many men did this kid think I had in my bed?

“Cool.” Johnny opened the fridge and pulled the milk out.

“That’s it?” I said, staring at him. “That’s all you have to say.”

He looked puzzled by the question. “Congratulations?” he said, like he was guessing that was the response I wanted.

Their casual response was both a massive relief and freaking me the fuck out. Did this mean they were unselfish and loving and I could pat myself on the back for raising incredibly caring and well-adjusted children, or did it mean they were so profoundly selfish that what happened to anyone else didn’t matter to them?

“Thank you,” I said to Johnny. “But I meant more like do you have any questions or concerns… how do you feel about having a baby in the house again?”

He shrugged. “It’s cool as long as you don’t make me change a bunch of shitty diapers. I would like to put in a request for a boy, though. We need to even up the numbers.”

“I’ll let HR know you want a boy,” I said, amused. “And don’t swear.”

“Wait a minute. Where is this baby supposed to sleep?” Ava asked, her voice dripping with suspicion. “This house is too small already.”

Ah, there was my real daughter. I felt relieved that she was asking a normal question.

“Because if it’s a girl, I’m not sharing my room with her. Having Marigold in my room is bad enough. I will die if you make me share a room with a baby too.”

There was no reason not to drop the second half of my bombshell, since the conversation was going so well. “We’re moving to Cash’s house because he has more room. You’ll have your own bedroom and your own bathroom.”

Her jaw dropped and her eyes lit up. “No way. OMG, that is awesome!” She leaped off her stool and came around the island and hugged me so hard it made me laugh, but also made me slightly nauseous. “I'm so happy for you, Mom.”

And herself. But relief made me giddy. No tears, no anger, no accusations that I was ruining her life. “Okay, okay.” I rubbed her back. “I’m happy you’re happy. Seriously. I know this is a lot of change, but everything is going to be good. Thank you for being so supportive.”

“Good?” Johnny was pouring the world’s biggest bowl of cereal. He’d used one of my mixing bowls. “It’s fucking sweet,” he said, slapping the box back down with a grin.

“Johnny!”

“What’s fucking sweet?” Cash asked, coming in through the kitchen door like he owned the place. He stomped his boots on my doormat.

“Cash!” I said, in sharp reprimand. “Watch your mouth. Both of you.”

He exchanged a conspiratorial grin with Johnny. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, his voice appropriately sheepish.

Johnny did the same. “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry for swearing.”

I rolled my eyes and struggled to not shake the daylights out of my baby daddy.

But I was so grateful the kids weren’t throwing a fit over the baby and moving to Cash’s that I couldn’t get too upset.

I looked toward the ceiling. “Dear Lord, I don’t have the strength for a boy. Please send me a sweet angel of a baby girl who doesn’t get mud on my floors, fall through windows, fart on me, or swear like a trucker. Amen.”

“Hey! You said you’d put in my request for a boy,” Johnny said, dropping his spoon with a laugh when Cash came up behind him and fake punched him in the side.

Cash stepped back. “Hold up. Do y’all know our news?” He looked from Johnny to Ava to me. “You told them?”

I nodded. “Just now. Ava asked.”