Page 74 of Truck Stop Titan

“I know the timing is terrible, and you and I are only getting to know each other, but we’re family, and I love you more than I’ve ever loved anybody, and I’m so happy we found each other. But. I. Well.” I laid my hands over my stomach, right above where her ankles rested. “I’m going to have a baby, Mim. You’re going to be a big—”

Mim bolted to the upright position, crab walking backward, away from me. She shook her head, eyes closed, mouthing,no,no,no.

I sat up, too, and reached for her, only to have my hand shoved away.

Heart racing, I reached again, then stopped short at the swell of tears in her eyes.

“What is it, sweetie? You can tell me.”

Mim pushed to hands and knees, then glared up at me, so broken. So lost. So…angry. With a grunt, she was on her feet, chest rising and falling in short bursts, hands fisted. Hair hung over her eyes, lips curled in a snarl, the girl was feral, sending a shiver through me. She raised her foot, as if preparing to send a swift kick to my gut, and for a split second, I feared she would follow through. Instead, she turned and kicked a pillow, sending it against the glass door.

“Mim!”

Face red, lips set in a tight line, she ran inside, down the hall, and into her bedroom, slamming the door.

I willed my racing heart to steady, took three cleansing breaths, and tried to understand the swift mood change, coming up with nothing. Not a damn thing.

With trembling hands, I gathered our bedding and headed inside, scrambling to find the right words, fearful I’d just undone all the forward progress we’d made.

# # #

“I don’t know what to do. She won’t come out of her room. She won’t eat. Won’t look at me. If I try to touch her, she freaks. Please. I don’t know where you and I stand right now, and that’s okay, but please. She needs you.” I hung up the phone, praying Dane would listen to my voicemail. The texts I’d sent through the night had gone unread, and I feared without his help, I’d lose that little girl forever.

I paced the living room. Downed a glass of water. Plopped my ass outside Mim’s door. Checked my phone. Checked again. Curled into a ball and cried. Two minutes later, I ran to the bathroom to vomit for the third time.

Of course, when I was at my worst, clinging to the toilet, Dane showed up. His heavy footfalls tracked the living room, the kitchen, then made their way down the hall, paused at the bathroom door, then continued. Mim’s door opened, then closed.

Three deep breaths and I forced myself to stand straight, splash water on my face, and run a toothbrush over my teeth. On rubber legs, I made my way to Mim’s door, leaned against the wall, then slunk to the ground, wrung out like a dirty dish rag.

Dane’s thick voice carried through the walls, a calming vibrato, easing the weight on my shoulders.

Half an hour later, he emerged, closing the door behind him, and bending to scoop me off the ground. “C’mon. You need to get ready for work.”

“How can I leave when she’s like this?”

“I got her.” He set me on my feet in the bedroom.

“Today. Sure. Yes. Thank you. But what about tomorrow, or the next day? You can’t come running every time Mim and I hit a bump.”

His rough hand cupped my cheek, his weighted gaze boring into my soul. “Tell me what happened.”

“We were having a great night. Laying outside. Staring at the sky.” I sucked in a sharp breath, nausea rolling through me again.Buck up, little camper. “I told her about the baby. I thought it would make—”

“Shit. Fuck. Shit.” Raking a hand through his hair, he dropped his chin, falling against the wall. “God damn. You told her?”

“Well. Yeah. I thought it would make her happy.”

“God damn.” He left the bathroom. Stomped through the house. Came back. Towered over me. “I didn’t want to tell you. I should’ve told you. Fuck. I fucked up.”

“Tell me what?”

Hands to hips, glare aimed at the floor, he mumbled, “Your sister was pregnant when she died.”

“No.”

“I’m sorry,” he choked.

“How far along?”

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