It’s Always Us (Abandoned Brothers #3)

Chapter 26

LEX

Why didn’t I reschedule?

I want to go home, take a long hot shower, and crawl into bed, needing it to still smell like him. But no, I’ll just pile a little more onto today.

When Mark told me he had to leave, it was like getting hit with a truckload full of disappointment. I understand why this is important, and he has to hear what they are offering, but I just got him back. For these past few days, we were a team, but here we are apart again.

I pull up in front of my mom’s townhouse, reliving seeing my babies on the screen and hearing their heartbeats. Twins. I’m having twins. I keep saying it, trying to get it to stick. I saw them. Both of them. Their little hearts squishing in and out and in and out, but I can’t get myself to believe it. Mark and I are having twins.

I run my hand over my stomach. I really wanted Mark here for this. I wanted my mom to see that I have a partner and I’m not as totally and completely inept as she thinks. But he’s not here. I’m pregnant and alone, and that’s all the ammunition she’ll need.

I could have rescheduled and tried to wait until Mark could be here, but I have no idea when that might be. At the rate these babies are stretching my midsection, hiding them is pretty much over. So, here I go, needing my steel-toed boots to guard my insecurities and pride.

I hike up my unzipped jeans, fix my sweatshirt around me, and prepare myself to shock the hell out of my mom. Maybe she’ll be so stunned she won’t add her lists of worries and concerns to mine .

I open the side door into the kitchen but stop dead in my tracks. My mom is at the stove stirring a pot with a man wrapped around her.

Oh, for real. I want to retreat and never return to whatever is happening here.

I inch the door closed, but the damn thing squeaks. My face scrunches painfully tight as my mom and her new man turn.

“Oh honey, there you are. I was getting ready to call you.” My mom prances across the room and pulls me into a hug. “Bob and I were . . . ” She blushes, and my stomach revolts at the sight.

“Alex, this is Bob, my boyfriend.”

Bob, the boyfriend , who looks like he belongs in an old western, steps forward and sticks out his hand. He’s short and broad with a bit of a potbelly that stretches the pearl snaps on his shirt, which somehow goes with his jeans and work boots. He smiles, but it’s covered with one of those thick, full mustaches that hide a large portion of his face.

“Alex, I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m glad we’re finally meeting.”

I shake his hand, wanting to make like an opossum and play dead. Maybe then I can go home.

“Come on and sit down,” Mom says, ushering me to a seat. “I hope you’re hungry. I made your favorite.”

I watch my mom flit around while Bob joins me at the small table. “So, Alex, your mom says you work in a garage.”

I avoid eye contact, not wanting to talk to this man about my profession or anything else. “Yes.”

“I’m a car guy, myself. My son and I fixed up an old Corvette.”

“Alex bought an old truck in high school and flipped it,” my mom says like she’s talking about a house. “She still drives that old thing around. You can’t even tell it belonged in the junkyard.”

“Oh yeah,” Bob perks with interest. “What make and model?”

“F-150.”

“No kidding. What year? I had one of those when I was in high school.”

Mom takes a break from Betty Crockering and wraps her arms around Bob’s neck.

Why? Why did I do this to myself? I want to jab my eyes out with a dull fork and use the candle to pour the hot wax into my ears, so I don’t have to endure another second of this .

I’ve spent too much time with Mark. His dramatics are contagious . I bite my lip to prevent my smile.

Do I want my mom to be happy? Of course, I do. I’ve just been down this road and met too many of ‘the one’ to want to extend my limited amount of social energy on a strange man who’s temporarily hanging around.

When I don’t respond, my mom jumps in. “We’ll eat in a few.”

Bob checks his watch. “Yeah, Brad should be here any minute.”

Uh. What now? My hand slides over my babies. “Brad?”

My mom smiles that sickening, sweet smile. My gag reflex is in full working order these days, and I for sure might upchuck the limited contents of my stomach.

“Bob’s son. We thought it would be fun for you two to meet. He’s about your age and really into cars.”

I have no idea what my face does, but it definitely feels like, ‘Oh, hell no.’

I’m not doing this. I’m not sitting here while these two adults try to play house or matchmaker or whatever the heck this is when I have major stuff to worry about.

I stand, and my mom’s eyes grow wide. “I’m sorry, but—”

The door opens, and who I assume is Brad steps in. Well, let’s just give Brad a key. I contemplate making a run for it, but he’s blocking the doorway.

“Sorry, am I late?” he asks as the awkwardness seeps through the room like one of Wind’s massive bombs.

Brad is taller, broad, and lean, with blond hair and light eyes. He steps further into the small kitchen, allowing my eyes to flick between Bob and him. They don’t look anything alike. If I cared, I’d ask clarifying questions, but I remain standing and silent.

“You must be Alex,” he says as if he’s heard a thing or two about me and offers his hand.

I want to ring my mom’s neck.

I shake his hand with my burning hot one, and I don’t even care if I leave sweat behind. If I weren’t married to the absolute and literal sexiest man alive, I might think he’s mildly attractive .

Mark. Why in the hell isn’t he here with me ? I clench my jaw. We could have gotten in, told her we’re married and having babies, and gotten out. TOGETHER.

Mark would have turned this little dinner party into a comedy hour, but all I can do is try not to lose my ever-loving mind. I have to put a stop to this, whatever it is, so I can go home and not do this again. Who knows? Maybe next time, she’d invite the preacher. We’d be one big, happy family.

Brad sits as my mom offers him a drink. I sit reluctantly.

“Alex was telling me she restored an old F-150,” Bob says, as if he and I were actually conversing.

“Really,” Brad says, sipping his iced tea. “What year?”

“77,” I say, not adding detail.

“Sweet. So, that’s yours out on the curb?”

“All right, who’s ready to eat?” my mom cuts in. “It’s tomato soup and mac and cheese. Alex’s favorite.”

I don’t tell her it hasn’t been my favorite since I was ten, because at this point, who cares? She places the food in front of me while Bob and Brad discuss something happening on a job site. My mom joins in as I stir my soup and pick at the mac and cheese with my fork.

“Alex, Brad said he would love to come by the shop sometime and see what you’re working on.”

I drag my eyes to hers, shining brightly with hope and possibility. I want to squash it like a bug. She has GOT to be kidding me.

Brad clears his throat. “I’m sure she’s got plenty keeping her busy and doesn’t need spectators.”

I glance at him, appreciative of his perceptiveness.

“Oh no,” Mom pooh-poohs. “She’d love to. It’s like pulling teeth to get her out of that garage. She’d love it.”

Bob must have a fraction of insight and jumps in. “Sweetheart, I think we can let these two figure things out for themselves.”

What the fu . . . My mouth moves without my permission as my body heats to the temperature of a blow torch. “Figure what out?”

It must be the shock of my voice, but all utensils still.

My mom takes over. “We thought it would be nice for you two to get to know each other. Now that you’re single, Brad has friends and . . . ”

Brad’s eyes grow wide, but I can’t tell what that means, and I don’t care to know.

My inability to handle uncomfortable and difficult situations kicks in, and my mouth moves. “I’m not.”

My mom chews and swallows, appearing pleased with herself. “You’re not what, honey?”

I set my fork down, a thick layer of sweat coating my completely clothed body, and if I were anywhere else, I’d be stripping, especially these pants. “I’m not single.”

“Oh,” she perks like a dog waiting for a bone.

My heart joins in on the freakout party and begins to race. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out, needing the distraction and not giving a single crap if it’s rude. Being pawned out to my mom’s new-forced-stepson’s-friends feels like permission to flip the bird in the form of looking at my phone.

I see a notification that Mark posted something new. I click on it.

What. Did. He. Do?

A picture of me in bed fills my screen. You can’t see my face, but my hair is sprawled out over the pillow. My naked shoulder is peeking out of the covers, and the light filtering through the window is just enough to create yellow rays of warmth.

The caption reads: The rest of my life.

I bite my lip, hiding the smile that breaks through.

“Alex, what is it?” my mom asks.

I pull my attention away from my phone and back to this mess. “Nothing.”

My mom’s brow creases as her eyebrows tip inward. “You said you’re not single. Are you and Seth . . . ”

The picture released to the whole world, or at least Mark’s five million followers, fills my mind again. I’m done with this.

“Actually, I’m married.” I let it hang, but not for long. “I married my high school boyfriend, who I’ve never been able to get over, and not only that, I’m pregnant . . . with twins.”

My mom’s mouth falls open. Bob chokes on a macaroni noodle and coughs, so I know he’s getting air, while Brad makes some sort of snorting noise. I offer him a shrug because what else do I do when he looks highly amused by my verbal vomit ?

Mom wipes her mouth with her napkin. “You’re married and . . . pregnant?”

“Yes.”

My mom studies me like she thinks I might be joking as her fork stabs around her plate, not catching anything. “Where is your . . . husband? Do we get to meet him?”

We? “He’s out of town. He has an important meeting.”

Her fork finds the pasta, and she frantically shuffles it around. “A meeting. And what does he do?”

I could throw it in her face and tell her that Mark is one of the highest-paid professionals in the league, but I decide it’s not worth it. “He . . . works seasonally . . . travels a lot,” I stutter out. Based on her instant dismay and stiffened posture, I have second thoughts about withholding information.

“Seriously, Alex. Does he have a name?” Her head drops with disapproving dread as she finally sets her dinner weapon down.

Whatever. I’m done with this. She’ll find out sometime anyway. “Yes. Mark Sandberg.”

Tiny particles of pasta, soup, and tea spray the table from the two opposing ends. I want to grin. I really do, but I keep that crap under wraps, just waiting to see what’s next.

As Bob and Brad wipe their mouths, my mom’s face moves into a frown, studying them. “He travels a lot. Huh?”

I could say something, but why? Here it comes, from the woman who has had such great relationship success that started with my dad giving her duces when he found out she was pregnant.

“And twins.” Her voice rises an octave as Bob and Brad keep their heads down, eyes on plates, clearing their throats and sipping tea, trying to recover. “Does he know?”

I’m happy to revert back to my usual comfortable minimal word usage. “Yep.”

“And let me guess, he’ll be there for you through the whole thing. He loves you and wants to take care of you.” Here it comes . “But yet, he’s not here.”

I’m not going to lie. That last little jab is a hit to a purpling bruise. I put my hands in my sweatshirt pockets and rest them against my stomach. “ Not every man is a liar,” I say, knowing Grandpa, my guys at the garage, and Mark are living proof.

Both Bob and Brad perk up at my declaration.

“That’s true,” Bob says, sitting up tall in his chair, almost as if he’s . . . defending me.

My mom acts like she was bitten but recovers at lightning speed. “Sure. That’s true, but Alex is . . . naive.” It’s like I’m not even here.

My mom lets out some kind of nervous laugh and stands, flitting around the kitchen like a gnat.

When I find the energy to deal with the awkwardness, Bob studies me intently. Brad looks . . . confused, maybe.

Bob’s surprisingly kind eyes meet mine. “You’ve known Mark Sandberg since high school?”

I can’t help but smile at his astonishment.

Brad leans closer, whispering, “Like Mark Sandberg the . . . ”

I nod.

“Wow. Congratulations,” Brad says.

My phone buzzes again.

SEXY BABIES’ DADDY: Landed. How’s it going?

I almost laugh out loud when I see Mark apparently snuck in and changed his contact name to something so ridiculously fitting.

SEXY BABIES’ DADDY: I miss your*Lips emoji*

SEXY BABIES’ DADDY: Your *Smiley face emoji*

SEXY BABIES’ DADDY: Your *Leg emoji*

SEXY BABIES’ DADDY: Your *Peach emoji*

SEXY BABIES’ DADDY: I’m *Skull emoji*

My mom catches my smile. “What’s so funny? Is that him?” she asks with venom, certain he’s the scum of the earth.

My phone buzzes again. I glance, unable to decipher it quickly.

SEXY BABIES’ DADDY: *SpeechEasy App link.*

She makes an annoyed throat-clearing noise .

“Yes.” I set my phone on my leg, slightly rejuvenated. There are so many things I could say, so many things I could tell her, but I won’t. She doesn’t know Mark. She really doesn’t even know me, and that’s her problem.

“These babies and Mark are the best news of my life. I’m sorry you don’t see that,” I say quietly.

She turns from scrubbing a pan at the kitchen sink. “You may think differently when you’re raising them alone and trying to scrape by. Alex, what are you going to do? Have you thought about this? How will you support two babies on what little you make at the garage? Daycare will eat up everything you make, and it’s not like you can get a better job.”

I breathe in through my nose and hold it, squeezing my stomach muscles tight. I knew it would come to this. I just freaking knew it.

Bob and Brad both set their forks and napkins down. “I think we’ll head out,” Bob says, pushing his chair back, but remains seated when she ignores him.

“I’m sure you think this guy is going to show up. He’ll be there holding your hand and caring for the baby when it cries at night or is sick.” She lets out a disappointed huff. “How are you going to do this? You can’t even . . . ”

It should hurt, but it doesn’t. It normally would, but today, I feel sorry for her that she thinks the entire male population is a bunch of lying deadbeats. I have people who love me. A whole handful of men who’ve stayed and supported me. Men who don’t give a flying fuck that I can’t read and think no less of me because of it.

I put my phone in my pocket and sit back in my chair. “Mom, I’m sorry that’s what you believe. No matter what I say, it won’t make any difference. I have a disability, but it doesn’t impair my ability to judge someone’s character or their capacity to love me.”

It’s the first time I’ve used that word in relation to myself and not felt complete shame. “I will take care of these babies, both of them and regardless of what you think, Mark will be a part of it.” I stand and glance at Bob, who seems like he might actually be a decent guy. “I hope for you that someday you’ll meet someone who changes your mind.”

I move to the door and turn back. “Bob, it was nice meeting you,” I say softly, not wanting to be a total jerk .

He nods and winks at me. “You too, honey. Congratulations. You take care now.”

Brad hops out of his chair like a jack-in-the-box and meets me at the door. “I’ll be heading out, too.”

The cold, moist air feels good against my hot skin. I exhale a long breath, and it billows in front of me. Brad closes the door, and we walk down the driveway together.

“I’m really sorry about that,” I offer quietly, pulling my keys from my pocket as I quickly walk to my truck.

He holds up his hand. “No need to apologize. I wish you the best. The Mark Sandberg, huh? I knew he was from here, but man . . . ” He stops at my truck, rubbing his chin. “Your mom clearly has no idea who he is.” I smile, shaking my head. “That’ll be something when she figures it out.” I nod, my smile growing a little wider.

I know my mom loves and worries about me. I also know deep down she wants the best for me. She just uses her past decisions and experiences to predict my future. We aren’t the same, and Mark is not my dad.

Brad surveys my truck. “You do good work.” He gestures to it. “I know a lot of people who’d pay good money to have a truck restored like this.”

I glance at my old truck. “Yeah. It’s my favorite kind of work.”

“You’ve clearly got talent. It was nice meeting you.” He steps away and smiles a nice smile. “If Mark ends up being an asshole . . . ” He gestures with his fist.

I laugh. “He’s not.”

“Good,” he winks, and I see Bob in it. “For the record, neither is my dad.”

He opens his car door and climbs in, and I get in my truck, wondering if I’ll ever see him again. He was nice. Ironically, he and his dad made it a little more tolerable. Two more guys that don’t belong on the list of dickheads. Maybe I won’t mind if Bob The Builder sticks around.

______

I step into the house and toss my keys on the counter, ready to find my bed and stay there for the foreseeable future.

“Pal, is that you?” Grandpa hollers from the living room .

I pour a bowl of cereal, add some milk, and carry it with me to the couch.

“How’d it go?”

I shove a spoonful in my mouth. “She was working to set me up with her new boyfriend’s son’s friends.”

“No shit. What in the Sam Hill is wrong with her?”

I raise an eyebrow. “I don’t know. She’s your daughter.”

“Yeah, well, I blame your grandma. She left us both, seeking the high life.” He rubs his forehead. “I know she’s difficult, but she loves you. Doesn’t want you to struggle like she did.”

I nod, knowing it’s true, but it still sucks she can’t see how different we are and trust me to live my own life.

“How’d your doctor’s appointment go?”

I set my bowl on my lap and finish chewing. “I’m having twins.”

Like a slow-motion instant replay, the old man’s entire body shifts in my direction. “You’re shittin’ me?”

I shake my head. “I have the pictures and two strong heartbeats to prove it.”

“No wonder you’re huge.”

“Grandpa!”

He pops his footrest back in and sits up straight. “Where is that boy? I need to congratulate him on the good work.”

I shove another bite in my mouth. “Thanks. I clearly had nothing to do with it.”

“It wouldn’t have happened in any way without him.”

I roll my eyes and take another bite. “He had to leave. He’s meeting with the Liberties in the morning.”

He settles back in his chair. “You didn’t go with him?”

“What, and follow him around like a lost puppy dog?”

He crosses his arms and gives me that look over his glasses like he doesn’t appreciate my sass, but it’s his fault. He taught me. “You’ve been apart too long. Maybe it’s time you actually be together.”

“What, are you tired of me?” I joke, but he clearly doesn’t think it’s funny.

“I’m a selfish man, and I’ve gotten far more time with you than I ever deserved. I’d keep you here with me forever if I could, but it’s not meant to be that way. ”

I set my bowl on the table between us, leaving the milk. “My life is here. I can’t sit around while he trains and figures out where he’s playing next season.”

“Why not? That’s what wives do.”

“Did you really just say that?”

I see his wrinkled mouth try to hide a smug grin, wanting to get me riled up. After our little moment passes, his serious tone takes over. “Pal, you’ve got two babies coming who need a mom and a dad.”

This stubborn, hard-ass old man is sensible. What the hell is happening to my life? “What about my job and the garage?”

“I’m thinking about selling to Slade.” He says it. Just like that. “And before you get your panties in a twist, listen.” He pulls his glasses off and sets them on his leg. “Pal, this shop isn’t meant to be the rest of your life. It was your beginning.” He pauses. “I know you love to work on cars, but you’re too good to be stuck there. I know you think you can’t work anywhere else, but you’re limiting yourself. Anyone would see your work and hire you on the spot. I’ve let you think otherwise for too long.”

I look at my grandpa. Rough and tough and hardened by life. “I don’t know if I can just give it all up and hope this will all work out.”

He nods, understanding. “You’re not her, and he’s not your dad or any of those men. That young man has been in love with you since day one. I saw it then, and he’s even more in love with you now. My eyes may be old and worn, but I see that clear as day.” He shifts in his chair. “Can you really live and do all this without him?”

This joker knows I can’t, and I kind of want to be mad at him for pointing it out and making it sound really that easy.

He blows out a breath. “You can work on cars anywhere in any fashion you want, but I think . . . the rest of your life will be pretty full of something so much better and more fulfilling.”

The tears in his eyes get to me. I’m up and reaching for him, hugging him tight.

“I’m so proud of you.”

“I love you, Grandpa.”

“I love you, too.”

I release him and move back to my spot on the couch. “I’m going with him to the awards and the game.”

“You shit. Where’s my ticket? ”

I smile. “Maybe next year.”

“Ha. I might be dead by then.”

“Not your ornery ass.”

He puts his glasses back on, focusing his attention back on the TV. “Did you tell him?”

My body stiffens, and I know exactly what he’s asking. All the cereal turns into a giant rock, sinking to the bottom of my stomach. “No.”

“What you did matters.”

I inhale and push it out. “I don’t know. I’m not sure anything good will come of it.”

Grandpa hits that power button on the remote and stands. “That will bite you in the ass. I’d think long and hard about it.”

Like I haven’t for the last eight years.

“I’m going to bed. I could use you at the shop in the morning for some light stuff.”

I nod, wanting to push thoughts of what he said out of my mind, but they linger there with bright red warning lights.

I climb the stairs and peel my clothes off, knowing I have some major shopping to do. I hate shopping, but Krissy doesn’t, so she’ll make it tolerable. I shower and pull the sheet back to slide into bed, where I find a folded Liberties shirt. One I saw Mark wear.

I take my shirt off, tug his on, and then FaceTime him.

“Hey, baby.” His beautiful, handsome face fills my screen. He’s sitting in his bed in Manhattan, and I’m in mine. “Nice shirt.”

“I like it.” I lift the soft cotton material to my nose and inhale. “It smells like you.”

“How’d it go tonight?”

“About as good as expected.”

“That good, huh? I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

I sink down in my bed and pull the covers higher. “Me, too. Her new boyfriend was there.”

“No way.”

I nod. “It gets better. His son joined us. She wanted me to get to know him and his friends.”

“Lex, I’m sorry.”

I shrug. “It’s ok. They actually seemed nice. Although it was awkward to tell her I’m married and pregnant in front of them. Then she went on to rant about men and me and . . . ” I sigh, releasing the last bit of stress from the night. “It’s over. She knows and can stop trying to pawn me off on strange men.”

“Yeah, that shit ends today.”

I smile. I could tell him more, but what’s the point? “When we left, Brad told me to let him know if you were an asshole.”

“I bet he did,” he grunts.

I shouldn’t like to see him jealous as much as I do. “You’re a sneak.”

He pulls back, feigning innocence. “What? Me?”

I glare. “You trying to drive the world crazy or just me?”

That mischievous grin takes over, and I want to kiss him so much. “You have no idea. My phone is blowing up with people wanting to know who you are and guessing what it means. Rumors are flying.”

“You’re such a drama queen.”

“The only kind of drama I’m having from now on is the good kind. The you kind. The baby kind. I’m obsessed.”

“You’re insane.” I bite my lip. “Hey,” I say quietly. “You still want me to go with you this weekend?”

His face softens. “Yes. So much. I’ll pick you up.”

“Ok.”

“You’ll need a dress.” I groan, and he smiles. “Preferably a very sexy one that shows off lots of skin and our growing babies.”

“Seriously. Are you trying to get the entire female population to hate me?”

He laughs. “No, I told you. I want to let the whole world know I did that, and I’m damn proud of it.”

“Ugh. You and Grandpa. Do I have any role in this?”

He smiles. “You played the most important part. You came and found me.”

“You came and found me first,” I yawn.

“I did. The best, most terrifying decision I ever made.” I study him, missing him terribly, and thinking about everything Grandpa said.

“Will you let me know how it goes tomorrow?”

“Yes. I’m getting out of this city and somewhere with some room for us to grow. ”

Us. Room to grow. A warmth rolls through me at the thought. It sounds nice. Like a dream. A dream I’ve clung to for so long it’s hard to let myself believe it could come true.

“Hey.” Mark’s voice is soft and tentative. “Did you see the app I sent you?”

I remember the text he sent me. “Uh yeah, but it was during dinner, and I haven’t opened it. What is it?”

He scratches his jaw. “It’s a new text-to-speech app. It’s supposed to be better than the current apps on the market. It’s more efficient and has new features. It can read documents and images, so if you take a picture of something, it will read it to you.”

I blink, staring at him. “You got that for me?”

“Yeah. I thought you could try it.” He suddenly sounds unsure. “It’s probably filled with bugs and isn’t foolproof just yet, but I thought it might help with the babies and . . . ”

My throat and eyes burn, and he must see it.

“Baby, you don’t have to use it if—”

“Thank you,” I swipe at my cheek and sniff, my chest aching with . . . how much it means to me that he would think of this. “I can’t wait to try it. That’s . . . Thank you for thinking of me. It’s amazing. How did you even find it?”

A gentle smile appears, and all I want is to wrap him up and never let go. “I’ve got connections.” His smile spreads a little wider. “But,” he leans out of the frame and then returns. “For now, I thought we could go through these together.” He holds up the stack of pamphlets from my doctor’s appointment that he apparently stuck in his bag when I wasn’t looking. “I want to know everything that’s happening.”

At one time, it was history books and classic literature. Now, the man is going to read prenatal pamphlets to me.

Another tear falls as he selects one and holds it up. “How about cord banking?” His eyebrows arch upward. “Sounds cool.”

I smile through my blurry visions. It doesn’t even matter how things turn out for us. I’m so damn lucky to be doing this with him.