Page 81 of Coming Up Roses

Myla Rose

“Yup,my appointment’s at ten, Simon,” I huff out, struggling to hold my phone and get dressed. “Sim, hang on. Gotta put you on speaker.”

“Do you want me to come with you? This is the big appointment, right?”

“It sure is. But, no. You don’t have to come with. Cash is.”

“Cash, huh? Y’all serious?”

“I–I love him. So, yeah, it’s pretty serious.”

“Well damn, girl. Look at you all grown up.”

I can’t help the laugh that topples from my lips. “I’ve been grown.”

He responds with a deep chuckle of his own. “You keep telling yourself that, Myles. No matter what, I’ll always see you as that scrawny little freckle-faced girl with knobby knees and braces.”

His words transport me back to when we first met.

I was sitting on Grams’ porch—like I’d been doing every day since Mama dropped me off a week ago, waiting for her to change her mind and come back.

I was staring down at my lap, drawing shapes in the dirt on the bottom step, when a raspy voice called out, “She ain’t coming back. You gotta know that.”

I looked up, only to come eye-to-eye with the most beautiful blue eyes I’d ever seen. Blue like a swimming pool on a hot summer’s day. Far too pretty for a boy, but belonging to a boy all the same. “S–she might,” I told him defiantly. I could tell he was older, but not by too much.

“Naw. She ain’t. Heard your Grams telling my mom. She’s gone.” I burst into tears at his words, realization blanketing me. “Now, don’t cry, girl.”

But I can’t help it. I devolved into a teary, snotty mess. She may not have been a good mother, but she was all I’d ever known.

“C’mon, please don’t cry.” The boy wrapped me tightly in his arms and held me until my tears dried. “You’re better off without her.”

“You think so?” I asked, taking the time to really look at him. He was scrawny, with matted hair and covered with dirt smudges.

“I know so. Now, what’s your name?”

“Myla Rose,” I told him, thankful to have a friend.

We both startled when from beyond the clearing, we heard a booming voice roar, “SIMON, YOU GET YOUR ASS HOME, BOY.”

He jumped up like someone had lit a fire under him. “Gotta go!”

From that day forward, Simon was my protector and I was his escape.

“Simon, I’m as grown as it gets. I pay my own bills, own my business, and I’m about to pop out a baby.” My words aren’t said with venom, and I know he can hear my smile.

“Yeah, yeah. Guess you’re right. Well, I wanna see pictures from the ultrasound, ‘kay? Gotta see with my own eyes that my nephew’s growin’ good.”

“That I can do. Why don’t you see if D wants to meet us for lunch, and I’ll invite the girls?”

“Sounds good. See you later, Myles.”

My fingers fly across my screen as I fire off a quick group text, asking the girls to lunch before tossing my phone in my purse and heading out the door. I’m so beyond ready to check on my little bean that I don’t even wait for their replies. Twenty weeks is the appointment every mom gets crazy-anxious-excited for. There’s something so surreal about seeing your baby on that screen, and this time, we’ll get an in-depth look.

The tech will measure his little bones and give us an estimated weight, she’ll count his fingers and toes, and I’ll get to see his sweet baby face. I’m so damn ready. Not to mention, this is also the last time I’ll see him before his grand arrival in September. And Cash will be there with me, by my side and holding my hand through it all.

Today is gonna be one for the books. I can feel it.

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