Six Months Later
I slapped my hand on the outside plaster wall of Sweetness & Delight chocolates, ramping up the drama factor for my bestie’s sake, applying theatrics to the situation at hand. “Whew! I’m famished.”
Ivy looked at me skeptically, “You just wolfed down two entire moo bars on your own. Pretty sure that’s a record.”
“Record of awesomeness,” I mused.
“How can you possibly be hungry again? I don’t care if you are eating for two, you’re kind of taking it to the extreme.” Ivy carefully guided me around the uneven ground that had shoved up under cracks on the sidewalk of Main Street.
“The doctor said it’s good for me to eat when I’m hungry. I shouldn’t worry about sticking to a schedule right now. Which is why I have to stop for ice cream.” My lower lip trembled as she riveted me with her accusing gaze.
“Ice cream! Noah’s going to kill me.” She groaned, and I didn’t blame her. It was early days of my pregnancy, and I’d just peed positive at the clinic. But I was definitely taking full advantage of his whole eating for two thing.
“In and out, Ivy. I’ll be quick. Look.” I pointed to the turquoise hut with cream colored trim, “There’s no line.”
“Oh alright. So long as you explain yourself to Noah. He said to have you back by three o’clock sharp and we’ll barely make it on time as it is.” She mumbled something about a fool woman and her sweet tooth, and accompanied me to the ice cream shack.
She was right. We were running late, and I could practically feel my butt burning over the punishment I’d get for not calling daddy when we were running late. But I had a one-track stomach, and for now all I could think about was cookies and cream ice cream. Maybe a scoop of mint chip.
It didn’t help my guilt when Priscilla and Doc stopped in the middle of the road, calling out to us. “Hey mamacitas! Going my way?” She questioned with staid calmness, looking great on the passenger side of Doc’s convertible Bell Air, sunglasses shading her eyes and a bright, tomato red lipstick accentuating her full mouth.
“Can’t stay, blue jay!” I shouted. “We’re getting waffle cones!”
“We are?” questioned Ivy, her confusion completely glossing over her annoyance.
I hesitated trying to come up with a smart-ass remark, telling her she was fully aware I had a need to feed, but before I could, my bestie’s eyes grew large as saucers, and I didn’t have to turn around to know what I would find when I did.
Daddy.
The entire town was used to seeing it by now, so I really shouldn’t have been at all surprised when I found myself tipped ass over tea kettle and marched in the direction of my apartment. Noah lifted me in his broad, bronze arms, put me over his shoulder and carried me towards my old place.
Away from ice cream.
“Noah! I said I’d come and help you get the last of my stuff out of the apartment. What’s the big deal?” I asked petulantly.
“You kept me waiting. You didn’t call. You know I worry.” He stepped inside the wooden door of the Victorian building, and climbed the stairs with me still slung over his shoulder. He acted as if I were light as a feather.
Noah opened the door to my old place, and set me gently on the ground. “Those boxes are the things you need to help me go through. And you got some mail I think you’ll want to take a look at.” We were a great team, with him reminding me of the things that were a priority. With daddy in my life, I didn’t have to force myself to do something I wasn’t good at and it was such a relief not to have someone expect me to be more organized than I really was.
The polished wooden floor reminded me how much I was going to miss roller skating here, and I sat down on it cross legged in front of a moving box.
Noah’s two huge feet filled my vision, and he bent down to hand me an envelope. “This came for you. Looks important.”
The front of the envelope had my entire name written on it, Gigi Ann Halliwell. Only one person ever addressed me that way the woman who gave me the name in the first place.
Mama.
Mixed feelings surged through me and I ran my finger pads over the entire surface of the paper, wondering if doing so meant I’d touched upon the same spots as she. Wondering what made her reach out after all this time.
We last spoke before I’d decided to leave for Phoenix, to make it on my own. She didn’t think working in “some club” there was any kind of future for the daughter of Colonel Halliwell.
When I told her I didn’t give two shits about the Colonel and his commands, she’d hung up on me. We hadn’t spoken after that and I had to admit there was a piece of my heart missing ever since. Every time the topic came up, I just changed the subject.
And now here I was pregnant, about to become a mother myself.
“How did she even know I was here?” I asked, mystified.
There was a long brittle silence which Noah finally broke. “I may have had something to do with it. You can get mad at me later.”
A pulsing knot tightened in my throat and demanded to know more. “What have you done?” I asked, disagreeably.
“I know you, Gigi. You said we were doing just fine on our own. But I know what it’s like to lose a mother.” Oh God, how could I never have thought about it. When he told me the story of being a teenager, caring for his mom who had M.S. only to find her gone one day when he came home from school, I felt an acute sense of loss. Here I was, holding a silly grudge against my mom and dad, when Noah would have done anything to have his mom brought back to life.
I swallowed hard and bit back tears. “I’m sorry, Noah. I’m being selfish again. I’ll see what she has to say.”
It was expensive stationery, of course. Mrs. Halliwell only believed in sending correspondence scripted on her favorite writing paper sold exclusively at Barneys. She’d explained to me once how Artisans in Paris engraved each design in steel before hand-stamping it on the highest-quality paper. The sight of her handwriting made me emotional, but it was nothing next to her words.
Dearest Gigi,
I’ve had time to think, and hours to regret the things I said to you which I never should have. Not just during our last spat, but during the years when you were a capricious, active, and intelligent little girl. We know so much more about ADHD than we did back then. I suppose your father and I were ill-prepared to properly care for a wild spirit like you. And the shortcomings in our parenting skills were compiled by our moving every year or two.
Someday you’ll have children of your own...
Sooner rather than later, I thought.
You’ll find it a humbling, exhausting experience. I hope you can hear me chuckling as I write that last line, any child of yours will be blessed with a mother just as energetic as they are.
I’m rambling.
The reason I wrote is because the only regret I have in life is not loving you as well as I should have. It was my job to be your protector, your champion against all of the world’s wrong doings, and I fear I failed that duty greatly.
There is no way to make up for the years when I was not there for you. Be that as it may, please allow me to tell you now that I’ve been given the chance.
You’re smart in ways many of us cannot understand.
You are blessed with boundless energy. Use it. Don’t let anyone tell you to stop drumming, tapping, kicking, or skating. One day the rest of us will envy the way you never sit still.
Judging from the phone call I had recently with your beau, it sounds like at last, you’ve found the protector and supporter you deserve. I very much look forward to meeting him soon. I’m so sorry for failing you my beautiful, bouncy, boisterous, daughter.
I love you,
Mama
I tore my eyes away from the letter with a choking cry and threw myself into Noah’s lap. “How did you know where to find her?” I grilled him.
“Gigi. You know I was a secret operative. If I can’t find a retired Colonel and his spouse living next to a golf course somewhere in Saint Petersburg, Florida, I’m not worth my grain of salt.” He pulled me towards him until we were almost most nose to nose. “So, you’re not upset.”
His body was a solid wall against me, impassive, unyielding and sent my pulses spinning. “It was risky I have to admit. But after I share my news with you, I think you’ll understand why I’m more than glad it’s a risk that you took.”
His glare, the one he used whenever he thought there might be a chance, I was being naughty and he was about to find out, burned through me.
I wriggled purposefully on his lap, encouraged by the sizeable bulge that formed beneath my butt. He growled voraciously, slid his hand under my skirt and pushed my panties aside, impatient with need.
“What about the boxes, Noah? I thought we were deciding what to take to your house.” I spoke in a broken whisper, having difficulty stringing a sentence together.
It was as if he didn’t hear me and in a matter of seconds my teeth clenched, and toes curled. He pulled his hand away from me before I found release. “You know the rule. Ask for permission before you come. I want to hear you beg for it."
I nodded emphatically, convincing him of my vow of obedience. Only one problem. I underestimated the horn dog nature that pregnancy had infused my blood with. The moment he worked his strong fingers into me again, igniting me, sensation ripped through me like a whirling firestorm.
Noah stiffened, as if I struck him, disbelief that I had chosen to disobey him, evident.
The words tumbled from my mouth, apologetically, “I’m sorry! But I read it’s completely normal. There is something I have to tell you.”
His green eyes showed the tortured dullness of incredulity.
Apprehension gnawed at my confidence. “What I’m trying to tell you is I’m going to be eating a lot more, and apparently coming a lot more too.” I said, deferentially. “I don’t know if it’s a boy or girl yet, but I know it’s yours.”
He glared at me with burning, reproachful eyes.
“Ha? Ha?” I quipped regarding my last remark, and my heart was a hammer in my chest, a bubble of laughter rose in my throat but only partially escaped.
What was he thinking?
It was impossible to tell.
Then he shoved my worries aside, “This is the happiest day of my life,” he said speaking deep in his throat, and he picked me up off the ground and buried his face against my neck. “You’ve made me the luckiest man on Earth, little fox.”
“I’m the lucky one, daddy.” As though my own words released me from unrest, I relaxed, sinking into his cushioning embrace. “From the moment we met, it was you.”
If this is what it was like to make babies with Noah, having orgasms that made me go off like a rocket, and words of adoration, maybe I should have ten?