Page 18 of Reed

“Reed,” I say quietly, resting my head against his chest.

“Yes, Little One.” He presses a kiss to my head.

“We didn’t use protection.” I’m not on the pill and should have demanded he use a condom, but I didn’t think about that. “I swear I’m clean, but–”

“I believe you. Does the thought of you getting pregnant again scare you?” He asks, sounding as tired as I am.

“A little. I want more kids, but not right now,” I admit.

“I’ll take care of it.” He lifts me up, which causes a groan to fall from his lips and a moan to come from my own. I can’t hold my eyes open any longer. Right before I fall asleep, I hear him speaking to someone. “Go to Walmart and grab me a Plan B pill. Bring it to Ali’s. Also, bring some moving boxes for my girl and my boys.”

Chapter Ten

Ali

Little fingers pull at my eyelids, making me sit up too fast, and the room spins around me. “Shit,” I say. I’m a little confused, but only for a second. Caleb is standing next to the couch, looking at me, then looking behind me with a smile. I turn to see what he is looking at. My eyes land on a sleeping Reed. He stayed the night with me on this old, tiny couch. Why does that make my heart skip a beat?

“Reed,” Caleb says, pointing at Reed.

“Yeah, buddy.” I bend down and scoop him up in my arms. My eyes land on a Plan B box on the table next to a water bottle.Shifting Caleb, I pick up the box, open it, and swallow the pill. “Where is your brother?” I ask after putting the box back down.

“Kitchen,” Caleb says, pointing that way.

The clock on the wall says that it's ten past eight in the morning. I know they haven’t been up long because Caleb always wakes me up as soon as he is awake. I hear Jacob getting into something, and I’m hoping he hasn’t destroyed the kitchen while looking for food. I sit Caleb down and find Jacob in front of the open fridge. He has pulled the loaf of bread out. His little cheeks are puffed out, and his fists each have half a piece of bread in them. Leaning down, I grab the bread bag, put it back in the fridge, and then grab Jacob.

I notice his diaper is dry and rush into potty training mode. “Do you need to go potty?” I ask Jacob but also look at Caleb, who is starting to walk back toward Reed. “Caleb, no,” I say, snapping my fingers at him to get his attention. He stops suddenly, drops his head, and starts walking back toward me.

“My Reed,” he says, pointing toward the couch.

“Let Reed sleep. Come on, let's go potty.”

I hold out my hand and wait until he takes it. I stand them both in front of the toilet on little step stools I bought and wait for them to go. I read all the articles, and they all said to sit them on the toilet, but I decided to teach them how to stand up and pee. I do have to help them hold themselves, so they don’t piss all over the walls and floors. Caleb has been getting better at holding himself, but I still don’t want to risk it. Caleb pees instantly and then claps for himself.

“Jacob, if you pee in the potty, I will make donuts this morning,” I say hoping it helps motivate him. I have a can of biscuits that need to be used, and he loves it when I use a bottle cap to cut out the middle and fry them up.

“Okay,” he says. Jacob scrunches up his little face in deep concentration and finally starts to use the bathroom. “I pee, Mommy.” He starts clapping, and Caleb joins in.

“Good job, buddy.” I flush the toilet and pick them both up so they can wash their hands. I sit them down and give them another warning. “Don’t wake Reed up. Go in the bedroom and play while I cook,” I say sternly. They nod their heads and run off down the hall. I wash my hands and start to make breakfast. I’ve only got the middle of the biscuits cut out when arms encircle me from behind.

“Morning, Little One,” Reed says, pulling me into him. “What the fuck are you doing to those biscuits?” He picks one up and starts to twirl it around his finger. I grab it from him and put it into the hot oil.

“I’m making donuts,” I say as embarrassment tinges my cheeks pink. After seeing his house, I have no doubt that he has a shit ton of money.

“Ali, I can go get donuts. You don’t have to make this,” he says, waving his hand over the stack of biscuits turned donuts.

“You can go get whatever you want, but I’m making my boys their favorite breakfast,” I say, turning sideways to get out of his arms. I flip the donuts in the pan and move to the cabinet to the left of the stove. I only open it wide enough to pull the small bag of powdered sugar out of it.

“I’m sorry if this isn’t good enough for you, but in case you haven’t fucking noticed,” I slam the cabinet harder than I should, “it’s the best I can fucking do right now, and I refuse to be ashamed because of it,” I say, hating how my voice breaks a little.

I fish out the finished, brown donuts and place them on a paper towel. Then, I repeat the process. After the oil has dripped off the finished ones, I shake them in a small container with powdered sugar. “Ali… I didn’t–”

“Boys,” I yell, ignoring Reed. “Come eat.” They run down the hall and come to a stop in the doorway.

“Reed,” Caleb yells.

“Donuts,” Jacob yells.

I put them both in their highchairs. For the first time, Caleb fights me and keeps trying to get to Reed. I turn around to see Reed standing at the stove, tending to the food. I ignore him and plate up the boys’ plates with two donuts each. “I can do this,” I say, pushing Reed out of the way.

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