Page 42 of Love Me

“Here, why don’t I take your order and you guys can talk and figure it out? Honestly, Graham, you’d be doing me a favor by keeping the girl out from under my feet,” I jest while giving him a wink.

That settled, I return to my work, juggling the hustle and bustle of my little coffee shop alone. I can’t imagine not working and running this place. The fact that my parents would honestly give me the ultimatum to settle down or they would sell Bean Haven, strains our relationship even further. I wish they could see how happy it makes me, how good I am at it, and how hard I work.

But all they’ll ever see is that I never met their unrealistic expectations of what success should look like. It’s not like I was a teen mom, either. A point I’ve tried making dozens of times. Was I living at their house when I got pregnant? Yes. But was I still working full-time at Bean Haven, taking over for my grandmother at that point and running it by myself? A thousand times, yes. I’ve never shied away from a challenge, and I’vealways met my goals. It may take me a little longer because I have Charlotte, but I’m still reaching them.

I’ve been putting off telling them about Liam and me because I know I’ll just be giving into their demands. But I know I need to bite the bullet and get it over with, especially because they’re the reason we’re together anyway. The sooner, the better. I had to practically beg my sisters not to say anything, and I had to actually bribe Harlow, the bitch.

Later that night, after I’ve tucked Charlie into bed, I decide to make some tough phone calls. Starting with Levi. When he surprisingly answers, I stutter for a moment because of how unexpected the action is.

“Hi. It’s Hannah.”

“I know, what’s up?” His tone is clipped and short, making sure I know how irritated he is with my interruption of his life.

“Do you have plans to have anything to do with Charlotte’s birthday?”

“When is that again?”

“You’re telling me you don’t even know when her birthday is, Levi? Are you stupid?”

“If you’re just going to be a bitch, Hannah, I’m hanging up.”

“It’s this weekend, Saturday at three. We’re having a party for her.”

“Pretty late notice.”

“I’ve been trying to talk to you about it since late February. You’ve ignored my attempts. You also haven’t called her in even longer than that. Are you coming or not?”

“Where’s it at?”

“Liam’s. My apartment isn’t big enough.”

“Pass. Look, I gotta go, tell her happy birthday for me.”

“Wow. Told your new girl about her yet? I told you a week and it’s been a helluva lot longer than that.”

“’Cause you’re weak and I knew you were all talk. It’s none of your damn business. So fuck off, Hannah.”

The line goes dead before I can tell him to go fuck himself. What the hell have I done? How did I create something so good and wonderful with such an absolute piece of shit? Before calling my mom, I take a moment to Google custody laws in Washington State and lawyers in our area. I need to do something and putting it off is only going to prolong the inevitable. I need to protect my baby and having a legal plan in place is what’s going to benefit her. After sending a few emails requesting consultations, I steady my breathing and hover my finger over the call button to get the conversation with my parents over with. But I just can’t bring myself to do it.

Instead, I call the one person I can’t stop thinking about. The one person I can count on. He picks up on the first ring, making me smile and changing my entire mood.

“Hi, beauty, everything okay?”

“Yes and no. Are you busy?” I ask nervously, not wanting to be needy.

“For you? Never. Want me to come over?”

“Please.”

“Pizza or ice cream?”

“Ice cream.”

“Anything for you. See you in fifteen.”

“K. Bye.”

For the first time in the twenty-something years we’ve been friends, I jump up and run to my bathroom, brushing my teeth and finger combing my wavy hair. I slip into a pair of PJ shorts and a spaghetti strap tank top, pulling up my wool socks, hoping that I look semi-cute and not like an exhausted sewer rat.

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