Page 18 of Secret Baby for the Triplets

“Hi, honeybun! I’m outside your door. You’re home, aren’t you? Oh please say you are! I just climbed all the stairs to get to your apartment, and I’ll just die if I have to go all the way back down again.”

Dread coils inside me as I leap up, looking around wildly at the boxes packed around the living room. I don’t want her to see them, but I can’t very well turn her away if she’s standing outside the door.

“Er… yes,” I squeak, not wanting to lie. “But uh?—”

“Good, open up. I have a ton of stuff, and my arms are about to fall right off.”

She knocks while still talking, but it sounds more like she’s kicking the door. “I brought a bunch of food from the farmer’s market. There’s more than enough to keep you for the week—at least!”

“Oh, Mom…” I hurry toward the door, stuffing down my shame to let my mother inside the tiny apartment.

Hanging up, I take some of the paper packages from her arms.

“Now, I still have to run to the store, so we can stock up on the other essentials you need.”

“You didn’t need to do that, Mom,” I sigh.

She smiles warmly at me as she sets the bags down on the counter. “You’re right. Why would I do something like that? You wouldn’t want people mistaking me for someone who loves you more than anyone else in the world, right?” she teases.

I really love my mom, and I can’t help but smile.

“No one would ever make that mistake.” I join her to put the fruits and vegetables in the fridge. “But maybe they’d mistake you for my older sister.”

“Lying is a sin, Emerson Grace,” she scolds me.

I laugh, kissing her soft cheek.

Her face darkens as she looks through the breakfast window and into the living room. “Emmy… are you moving out?”

“I had to give my notice.” I cringe, bowing my head shamefully. “I can’t afford to stay here anymore.”

“Oh, honey! Why didn’t you say anything?”

I don’t answer, and she embraces me tightly before releasing me. “Baby, Greg and I can help! Let me call him right now?—”

“No!” I cut her off, and she stops, leaning back on the counter to fold her arms over her chest.”

“Emerson…”

“Mom, it’s gonna be okay. I’ll be fine.”

Cocking her head, she peers at me with those piercing green eyes—my eyes.

“Emerson Grace,” she begins, and nothing good can ever come from a conversation started like that. “I know you have a difficult time thinking of Greg as your father, being you were almost a woman when we married, but he is a good man who loves you. He’s done everything he can to show you that, the best way he knows how. But Lord knows, you don’t make it easy sometimes.”

Aghast, I gawk at her. “I know that, Mom. I’ve never thought otherwise. And I’m sorry if he thinks otherwise.”

“Then why don’t you let him help you? Your real daddy sure as hell isn’t going to come crawling out of the woodwork to do anything, if that’s what you’re still waiting on! You’re twenty-eight years old. He’s never coming to rescue us.”

Blood drains out of my face, my mother’s uncharacteristic bashing of my biological father catching me off guard. “Mom! Where is this coming from? I haven’t mentioned that man in years! I never expected that he would come back! And I wouldn’t ask him for anything if he did!”

I’m appalled she mentioned him, the entire conversation catching me off guard.

Mom eyes me warily and exhales, lowering her eyes. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Greg mentioned that you were… being a bit standoffish when he offered his help. He thought maybe you were comparing him to your real daddy.”

This conversation isn’t making sense. “I haven’t thought about that man in over fifteen years. It wouldn’t surprise me if he were dead.”

She smiles weakly, but I’m choking back my budding resentment toward my stepfather.

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