Page 80 of Reckless

That shouldn’t change anything. Shouldn’t make me question what Ethan and I have developed, but my delicate heart doesn’t like this revelation onebit.

My sister must see the apprehension in my eyes because she shakes her head. “Do not freak out about Allison. She’s history, but since you asked, I wanted you to know that Ethan is the kind of guy who isn’t going to jerk you around. Look at how hard he tried to make his horrible marriagework.”

Okay, she makes a goodpoint.

But something about the morning Allison found us in the truck niggles in the back of mymind.

For a woman who seemed apathetic during her marriage, she sure lost her shit to see her ex had movedon.

And that has meworried.

My sister conksout on the couch in a puddle of drool as soon as I’m done with her pedicure, but I don’t want to leave before she wakes up, so I cover her with a light blanket, do a load of her laundry, and fold a million adorable green and yellow infant outfits. She’s such a wench to make me wait to find out the sex of herbaby!

I’m still folding clothes when two fuzzy arms wrap around my legs, and I whirl around with a muffledscream.

“Bandit, you scared the shit out of me!” I whisper-yell.

My sister’s pet raccoon holds up his little arms like a toddler even though he’s ancient in raccoonyears.

“You are so spoiled.” I pick him up, settle in the rocking chair, and pat his fat butt while he snuggles against me. “Have you been a good boy? Hmm? I don’t think you’ll be allowed in the nursery once the babyarrives.”

Sighing, I mull over everything my sister told me this morning about Allison even though I know I should put it out of my mind. But how can I? I want to analyze it from every angle so I know what I’m getting myself into. Though it’s not like I can backpedal. I’m already in too deep, which is all the more reason to guard myself against that woman. How could Allison leave Ethan and those two precious children? I want to throttle her on theirbehalf.

Kat waddles into the doorway and smiles sleepily. “Sorry I passed out,manita.”

“No worries. You’re gestating. You needrest.”

“Want some lunch? I’mstarving.”

I don’t point out that we ate not two hours ago. “No, I should probably get going soon, but I’ll be back tomorrow so we can shop for the nursery. Want me to make you a sandwich before Igo?”

A huge smile lights her face. “You’re my favoritesister.”

“I’m your only sister,” I say, smiling at our familiarlines.

One second she’s laughing and then she’s hunched over inpain.

“What’s wrong?” I shoo Bandit off me and fly across theroom.

“Just Braxton Hicks contractions. Nothing to worryabout.”

I lead her over to the rocking chair and help her sit. “What can I get you? Some water? A heating pad? Should I call Brady?” Like a splash of cold water in my face, I feel like an idiot for not knowing more about her pregnancy. For not having researched all the potential problems or complications. She asked me to be close this summer for the baby, and all this time I’ve been obsessing over my own lovelife.

With a grimace, she waves me off. “No, no. Don’t bother him. He hasn’t seen his parents all week. Let them have theirtime.”

My sister is the most selfless person I know. If she could have this baby in her bathroom without putting anyone out, she would. I’ll text Brady just in case. He’d want me to. I also make a mental note to read up on the ins and outs of what my sister can expect during the last few weeks of herpregnancy.

I stay with her for a bit, rubbing her back to make sure she’scomfortable.

“Hey, speaking of parents, have you heard from ours?” I ask, because I haven’t in ages. I’d wanted to ask earlier today but since we got emotional, I figured I should table thetopic.

“I swear they call me every other day. They’re so excited about this child.” She laughs and rubs her belly that undulates under her floral muumuu. “Oh! The baby is moving. Feel it.” Grabbing my hand, she places it on her tummy, and I smile even though I’m still bummed out about ourparents.

Sure, at the beginning of the summer, I was reluctant to talk to them because I was afraid I’d get the usual lecture about not screwing up a new job, but when they never called, I can’t deny I wasdisappointed.

Deep down, I get this is all residual psychological bullshit from my childhood. My parents took Kat—not me—and left South Texas for months at a time while they did their best to get whatever migrant farm jobs they could. It may be irrational, but every now and again I feel like the kid they forgot about. Granted, they eventually found permanent jobs in Corpus, and we were able to settle down, but that doesn’t erase those earlymemories.

When Mila cries on my shoulder at night, telling me she misses her mom, I get it. Isogetit.

---