Page 91 of Rematch
Chelsea peered through the peephole, surprised to find Mom standing in the hallway.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, as she opened the door and Mom walked in.
“I had a few errands to run today, and I thought I’d drop this by.” Mom held up Lennon’s favorite blanket. “You left it yesterday.”
“Oh, thanks. I was looking for that this morning.” Chelsea took the blanket, following as Mom crossed the living room, peering into the bassinet to steal a peek at Lennon, who was—finally—sleeping peacefully after their restless night.
“Is he feeling better?”
“Yeah,” Chelsea said. “His fever broke around four a.m. and we finally managed to grab a couple hours of sleep. Mercifully, it’s the weekend, so I don’t have to go to work today.”
Mom studied her face, giving her a sympathetic smile. Obviously, Chelsea looked as wrecked as she felt. She hadn’t had a chance to shower, so she was pairing the dark circles under her eyes with a spectacular bedhead hairdo.
“When does Preston get home?”
Chelsea glanced toward the kitchen, checking the clock on the oven. She blew out a hard breath. “In two hours.” Then she looked around the condo. She’d been on the go since Preston left town the day before yesterday. As such, she’d let the place go to hell. There was a pile of laundry on the dining room table, waiting to be folded and put away. The sink was loaded with dirty dishes and the counter covered with bottles waiting to be sterilized, as well as food she’d failed to put away. The living room was equally cluttered, with toys, shoes, and clothes scattered everywhere.
Ordinarily, the chores wouldn’t seem so daunting, but she was coasting on fumes after managing only a few hours of sleep last night.
“You fold the clothes,” Mom said. “I’ll tackle the kitchen.”
“You don’t have to?—”
“Many hands make light work,” Mom interjected, as she walked to the sink.
Chelsea smiled tiredly. “Thanks. I’m usually better at keeping up, but the past couple of days have been nuts.”
Mom rinsed the dishes before loading them in the dishwasher. “You’re doing just fine, Chelsea. To be honest, I don’t know how you manage to do as much as you do.”
She looked up from the shirt she was folding, trying to figure out if she’d heard what she thought she had. A compliment? From Mom?
Her mother must have caught her confused/amazed expression, because she gave her a rueful smile. “I know I’m not the easiest person to live with.”
Chelsea had to bite her lip not to laugh, not that her effort was necessary, since Mom narrowed her eyes, feigning anger. “Okay, Henry. I know you think that’s an understatement.”
She laughed when Mom called her by Dad’s name, something she always did whenever Chelsea did or said something he would.
“Did Dad say something to you?” Chelsea wondered if her father had instigated this visit and conversation.
“No, he didn’t. It’s just…” She paused, and Chelsea could tell whatever she planned to say next would be hard for her mother. “I heard Angie yesterday, singing Rick’s praises to you, and I was afraid maybe you thought that I…” Mom sighed, changing directions. “I’ve been worried about you this past year. I mean, you decided to move to Paris on a whim.”
Chelsea wanted to argue that it wasn’t a whim, but the truth was, she’d let her broken heart and wounded pride make that decision. Part of her couldn’t help but wonder if she’d still be there if she hadn’t gotten pregnant. She sort of suspected she wouldn’t. Because she’d been terribly homesick her first few months, and that was before she knew about Lennon.
“Then you moved back, pregnant after a one-night stand. And you didn’t even know the man’s last name.”
Chelsea winced slightly, because when her mom said it like that, she could see just how bad it all sounded.
“When Rick started showing up again, I was just as annoyed and angry about it as you were, because he hurt you badly. But then…he kept coming around and, well…I’ve known the man since he was born. I could tell he was sorry. Between him helping us set up the nursery and Angie talking in my ear, telling me how Rick admitted leaving you at the altar was the biggest mistake of his life… I guess I started thinking perhaps the two of you could work things out. Especially after you forgave him.”
“I forgave him for me, Mom. Not him. I was tired of being angry all the time.”
Mom nodded. “I get that and I respect it.”
Chelsea wasn’t sure how to reply to that because…wow.
“When you came home from Paris, seven months pregnant, and decided to open your own business, Chelsea. I was afraid that was another whim.”
This time, Chelsea defended herself. “I’ve dreamed of opening my own bakery since I was a kid. You know that.”
