Page 66 of Burden to Bear

“I don’t understand,” she murmured.

It wasn’t that my mom was particularly attached to Todd or anything like that. She merely thought I deserved the best and that someone, anyone, would be lucky to be with me. There might have been a time when I believed that, or tried to, anyway. I thought I was a catch. Now, I couldn’t say so. Because if someone happened to be interested in me, they’d have to be prepared to take on me and my child. I had a feeling that meant my prospects were limited.

“That makes two of us, Mom,” I said. “But I’m not sitting around and dwelling on it. I’m doing my best to move on with my life, and I’m really happy right now.”

“You mentioned that when you came home last month for the shower,” she returned. “As far as I can tell, you seem happy.”

“I am.”

“Are you managing okay, though?” my dad asked.

Confused, I tipped my head to the side as my brows knit together. “What do you mean? Financially?”

He shook his head. “No. I mean, I guess if there’s a problem there, I’d want to know, but I meant with the day-to-day stuff. Taking care of a house is a lot of work. Doing it on your own is one thing, but needing to do all of it when you’re pregnant is something else entirely. I wish you were back home, so we could help you.”

I sent a reassuring smile his way. “I appreciate that, Dad. But I’m doing okay. Believe it or not, I’m doing really well. It’s only this week that things have started to get a little bit challenging, but I think that’s mostly related to the unreasonably high temperatures.”

“I’ve been worried about you, too,” my mom added.

“What? Why? You and I talk on the phone almost every week, and you never indicated you were upset or concerned about anything.”

She shrugged and sent a sympathetic look my way. “I’ve been trying to let you lead the discussions, because I don’t want to risk being so far away and saying something that’ll stress you in any way.”

“There’s nothing to be worried about,” I promised. “Honestly, I call to give you updates on the baby, since that’s the most important thing going on right now. And he or she is doing exceptionally well. Everything looks great at all of my doctor appointments.”

“How’s work going?” my brother asked.

“Great. I’ve had a lot of luck lately with several of the kids I’ve been working with,” I told him. “It’s always so rewarding when they experience those breakthroughs. Maybe it’s the growing belly that’s helping. I don’t know, but I’m not going to complain. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before we’re going through a more challenging spell. It ebbs and flows there all the time.”

Albert smiled at me. “How have the kids at work been coping with the pregnancy news?”

Even if he had worries about what was happening here at home or in my personal life, I loved that Albert knew I needed things to talk about that went beyond the state of my personal life. Sure, I understood my family wanted to make sure I was okay, but I was pregnant. I wasn’t dying. Regardless of the worries I had about it—some of which I could only assume they shared—I couldn’t sit around dwelling on it nonstop. Luckily, my brother managed to give me a short reprieve from it all.

“The kids are so excited for me,” I began. “And in some cases, it’s really helped a couple of the children who were struggling to have conversations with me. I had one boy tell me about when his mom had his sister in her belly. So, it’s been fun for me, because I hadn’t even considered my pregnancy being something that would help the kids with speech.”

“Whatever works, right?”

I grinned at him. “Exactly.”

I had hoped to ask my brother about how work was going for him, but before I could do that, my dad said, “I really think I should bring out one of those boxes and work on assembling something else for the baby. Either the highchair or the stroller.”

“Dad, no,” I insisted, reaching for a handful of grapes. After popping one in my mouth, I said, “The baby isn’t going to need those right away, and mom told me you guys are planning to be here for an extended stay after the baby arrives. If I don’t have them taken care of before then, they’re all yours.”

My father had this need to always be doing something. He hated sitting around when he believed he could be useful and accomplish something. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate that part of who he was—I thought it was great for him to have that drive to work hard—but he needed to slow down and relax sometimes, too. Especially when he was only going to be here for a few hours.

“Is there anything else you need help with?” he pressed. “It doesn’t have to be related to the baby. I thought I’d come down here and you’d have a list of things you’d need fixed around the house.”

I shook my head. “No. The house has really been great. I haven’t had any major issues since I’ve moved in.”

My mom patted my dad on his forearm but kept her attention on me. “Your dad’s been struggling lately.”

A crease formed between my brows. “With what?”

“You,” she clarified.

My eyes slid to the side and landed on my dad’s face. I searched for answers to unasked questions, and while I didn’t find any answers there, I did get the confirmation I needed to know my mom wasn’t lying. He was distraught.

“What’s going on?” I asked, my tone revealing the uncertainty I felt. Something wasn’t right.

---