Page 81 of There Are No Words

Allegra:Yeah, but again, I don’t know how to crochet.

Brady:Do you want to learn?

Allegra:I’ve never given it much thought. I’ve never given a lot of things much thought. What if I’m not a good mother?

So it wasn’t the greatest segue into my concerns about being a bad mom. But it was a valid concern, and I was tired of letting things weigh on me—and me alone.

Brady:You have to be a good mom, because I have no idea if I’ll be a good dad.

Allegra:I’m serious, Brady!

Brady:Where is this coming from? You’ve never said anything before. And, for what it’s worth, I’ve known since day one, you are going to be an incredible mom.

Allegra:Yeah, well, that’s sweet of you to say, but we have no evidence of it. I mean, there’s a very real possibility I could screw this up.

When Brady didn’t text back immediately, my heart sank. Had I made such a compelling case that now he was thinking it might be true? That I might actually be terrible at this?

My office door opened and in walked Brady. I broke out in an ear-to-ear smile.

“What are you doing here? How did you get here so fast?” I asked, unable to hide how happy I was to see him.

He laughed and pulled out the chair opposite of my desk. “I was in the city and on my way to see you anyway when you texted. I was actually thinking you should run through the details of the anniversary party with me.”

I nodded. We should definitely talk about that. But who could focus on any of that when this crochet kit was staringme down? It needed to be addressed. I showed him the gift, practically shoving it at him (okay, there was really nopracticallyabout it). “Look. Isn’t this cute?” I didn’t wait for him to speak, though, instead, quickly adding, “And totally not me?”

Again, he laughed, his eyes dancing with amusement. “It’s definitely not you. Do your employees know you?”

Shrugging, I sat back. “They’re notmyemployees, but, anyway, I don’t know. The point is, as wonderful as it is, it also makes me feel horrible. I’m not crafty. I don’t know the first thing about any of this crap. And these kits come with instructions, Brady. Raising a child doesn’t come with instructions.”

“Or a guidebook,” Brady mumbled.

I shot an eyebrow up. “What?”

“Never mind.”

I groaned, still laser-focused on the fact that I didn’t know if I was ready to be a mother. “What if I suck? What if my daughter doesn’t like me? Or worse, she hates me?”

This was the first time I’d said the words aloud. I’d never once shared that very real fear I had with Brady. Or anyone, for that matter.

Frankly, it felt good to have finally said them aloud.

Needing to get it all out, I finally opened up to Brady, walking around my desk to sit on his lap, his arm coming around my back instantly. “I’m scared. I’msoscared. I already love her so much, but what if it’s not the same? What if I’m no good? What if she’s embarrassed by me?”

Angling his head, he smiled. “Okay, we can finish talking about this, but after that we definitely have to talk about the party. I need a headcount and some details. I have to impress my boss, don’t you think?”

I swatted his arm as he laughed.

“No, seriously, why would our daughter be embarrassed by you?” he asked.

I sighed the biggest sigh because he was making me say it. Not that I hadn’t thought it a million times before, and heard others say it about me, but now I was saying it about myself, and it made me break out in a sweat. “Because I’m weird.” There, I said it.

“Says who?” Brady asked, rubbing circles on my back.

I pulled back and mimicked the motion on my belly, thinking about Baby, something I’d been doing a lot of lately. “People.” I felt tears sting my eyes, knowing how true it was.

As they fell down my cheeks, Brady wiped them away. “No one who’s important.”

I raised a brow and sniffled, feeling the most amazing sensation of my life—our baby had just kicked, and I felt it for the first time. “Ohmigod, Brady,” I rushed to say, eyes wide, staring at him. I grabbed his hand and brought it to my belly. “She’s kicking. Do you feel that?”

---