Page 12 of Three of a Kind

I think she’s a genius in the making.

“You do?” He heads into the living room as she flings herself at his shins. He scoops her up, walking back toward the kitchen. “Why don’t you show me your orange? Then I’ll get you some of this yummy dinner your mom ordered. That way, Mommy can take a shower. How does that sound?”

“Okay.” Her tangled mess of dark curls bounces around her face. “You stinky, Mom?”

My head hangs.

Toddlers are excellent at one thing.

Repeating everything they hear.

Even when she doesn’t want a bath, I push the issue, telling her we get sweaty and stinky when we play outside, like she does at daycare.

“She smells nice to me.” Noble grins a little predatorily. “But moms deserve a few minutes to rest every once in a while, and I get the feeling your mama hasn’t had that in a long time.”

“Nope,” Libby says, like she has any idea what all that meant. Heck, maybe she does. She’s a smart kid; even the pediatrician was impressed with how clearly she speaks and the extent of her vocabulary. “Have a good shower, Mommy!”

What I really need to do is try to get a hold of Lennox.

“Are you sure you don’t mind watching her while I make a phone call and grab a quick shower?” I ask, studying Noble’s face for any sign he might be upset.

“Not a bit.” He smiles, showing off that perfect set of straight, white teeth. “Tell Mommy to relax and take her time.”

Libby tries to repeat his sentence, but she butchers it.

I give him a soft smile. “Thank you.”

“I’ve got you, Mama.” He winks, and my silly heart races as I trip over my own feet in an attempt to escape before my face turns beet red.

Lennox doesn’t answer, but she does text me back to let me know that she just got to work, and she’ll be home tonight after her shift.

I’ll be long asleep by then, but I ask her to wake me when she gets in.

I need to know what the hell is going on with her and Dustin.

I stress about it as I scrub my stomach, trying to avoid checking if I’m getting more stretch marks.

Since becoming a mom, I’ve learned how to take three-minute showers, but I allow myself to lounge for an extra minute or two of pure relaxation as the water cascades around my shoulders.

Washing my hair tonight isn’t happening. It’s a long process that I only tackle two or three times a week.

I rush through drying off and getting dressed. Whether any of my clothing will fit these days is questionable.

I pull on a spaghetti strap maternity dress without bothering with a bra. It’s one of the few pieces I wore even after Libby was born. If I had known I’d be repeating this whole pregnancy thing again so soon, I would have saved more of my maternity clothes.

The dress is way too short to wear without something under it. Grabbing a pair of cotton pajama shorts out of my drawer, I tug them on and frown when they feel a little snug.

Damn.

I didn’t even try to pull the elastic band over the baby belly.

Life is hard.

Sighing, I wrap my hair up in a messy bun. The mirror isn’t especially kind as I walk past, but I do my best to shake off my insecurities.

Noble is a nice guy.

He’s not trying to court me.

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