Page 28 of Bedding the Baby Daddy

Chapter Eight

Aurora frowned at the single red tulip currently sitting in a simple glass vase in the cup holder of her car.

She had no idea what possessed her to bring that particular flower home. Dante had sent her an entire flower shop since that first night she’d slept with him all those weeks ago. Armfuls of flowers everyday. And then, this morning, she’d come into work and there it had been. A single, juicy little tulip in a simple glass vase.

And her dang heart had skipped.

It had taken her a few days to sort through all of her feelings and she still wasn’t there. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be.

She pulled into the driveway of her mother’s small bungalow and, on a whim, brought the tulip with her into the house.

“Bonjou, Manman,” Aurora greeted her mother in Creole. Hello, Mama.

“Bonjou, piti. My lamou.” Hello, daughter. My love. Cedalie paused in the solitaire she was playing for a kiss on the cheek from her girl. “I can see by the look on that face of yours that the flower is not for me.”

“What? Oh.” Aurora looked down at the tulip she had firmly in her hand, genuinely confused as to why she’d brought it inside. Not like anything would have happened to it in the car. “No, it was a gift to me. But I’ll leave it for you, Mama.”

Cedalie clucked her tongue. “No, piti, it’s bad energy to give away a gift as personal as that one. You know that.”

“Sure,” Aurora said absently, sitting next to her mother at the small kitchen table and fiddling absently with two small rose quartz crystals that sat next to the deck of cards. Aurora’s fingers tensed over the stones as she sensed a funny vibration from them, subtle, but recognizable.

Cedalie lightly slapped Aurora’s hand away. “Don’t touch. Those haven’t been cleansed yet.”

Cedalie was talking about the energy of the crystals being cleansed, which her mother would do by burning sage. Aurora pulled her hands back. She wasn’t as talented as her mother was, but Aurora wasn’t immune to the knowledge.

Cedalie sat back, shuffling the cards in her skilled hands. As she did so, she stared at Aurora, likely studying her aura as she was prone to do.

“Put that tea in a jar,” Cedalie said, nodding toward the counter where a pot of tea was steeping. “We’ll take it on our walk.”

“I’m not in the mood for a walk, Mama. I’m tired.”

“You need a walk, trust your mother.”

Aurora didn’t argue further. She poured the earthy smelling tea into a little glass jar and waited by the door for her mother to slip on her tennis shoes. Cedalie tucked her hand through Aurora’s arm and they started their stroll through Cedalie’s neighborhood.

The neighborhood was filled with families just trying to get by. The homes were often shabby, but clean. Owned, not rented. Neighbors sat on their porches with a drink or a cigarette, some of them picking away at instruments.

Cedalie waved at a few people as they walked. Aurora couldn’t help the surge of affection for her mother. Her black hair shot through with silver, the small green crystal on a chain around her neck, the plain blue hoodie accented with the colorful scarf. God. How would she ever get through this if not for Cedalie?

“I’m confused, Mama.”

“I can see that, bebe.”

“In my aura?”

Cedalie nodded.

“He doesn’t want children.” Aurora watched the sun set in the distance and almost immediately felt calmer for having said her truth. The truth that had been choking her since her evening with Dante a few days ago.

“No one knows what they want, Aurora. Like I said, time tells the truth.”

Aurora said nothing. Just took a sip of the tea out of the jar, grimaced at the flavor, and nodded her head.

“You keep doing what you’re doing, daughter. You’re doing right by your child, getting to know what blood your child will carry. You get to know the father, it will only serve you. The difference between walking into a room with your eyes open or closed.”

Aurora nodded again. “So you think I should keep doing what I’ve been doing?”

“The baby is calm. You’re doing right. You’re doing right.”

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