“Movie starts at half past and so we need to leave in ten, OK?” he called over his shoulder. I knew he was giving me an excuse to cut my conversation with Alex short.Uncomfortabledidn’t even begin to describe how I was feeling.
That bubble of anxiety rumbled in my belly at the thought of my mother.
As Hudson vanished into the back of the house, I turned back to Alex.
“Do you want to come inside?”
He peered up at me sheepishly, shrugging as he glanced past me into the house. I could see he was uneasy, but it was cold out, and his fleece looked as thin as fuck.
“Is your mom here?” I looked past his head, scanning the street for a car. There was no one.
“No,” he replied, worrying his lip. My stomach settled slightly. So, he had come on his own.
“Does she know you’re here?” I added, glancing towards the back of the house as I heard my brothers doing what they did best, being loud.
“Look, come in,” I said, holding the door wider. Alex shifted from one foot to the other before finally walking forward into the hallway.
“Alex?” I prompted, raising my eyebrows in question. I needed to hear his answer even though I knew what it would be. “Does your mother know you’re here?”
Our mother had no clue he was there.Ourmother, where the fuck had that come from?
Alex nodded his head slowly from side to side and then took a deep breath.
“I heard what you said,” he began, his adolescent voice doing that cracking thing, as I closed the front door.
Turning towards him, I folded my arms over my chest. His tone suggested he was confusedandangry.Yeah, welcome to the club, sunshine.
I so didn’t need this when I still hadn’t gotten to grips with the fact that my mother didn’t want anything to do with me. “When?”
“At the house. I heard what you said to my mother.” I thought back, worrying that I’d said something cruel to the boy's mom and he’d heard me.
“And what did I say?” I asked, my eyes narrowing as I watched him down my nose. Alex was wearing Under Armour sweatpants and a Nike tee under the thin navy fleece. His trainers were also super expensive. He didn’t have a coat on—just a rucksack on his back. I watched as his fingers curled around the straps. Even his bag was designer. Resentment sat like a lead weight in my stomach. The boy before me was a mirror image of the life I had been denied, but I couldn’t hate him.
His body language suggested he was strung tight. “You called hermother,” he replied sheepishly.
Shameengulfedme. Shit! He shouldn’t have found out about me like that.
Unfolding my arms, I dashed a hand across my face. “Have you spoken to your mom about what you heard?” I said, biding for time.
“No, but she knows I’m aware she had a kid when she was younger.”
Fuck, that surprised me. “How?” I started to pick at one of the scabs on my grazed knuckles.
Alex released the straps of his bag and lowered his hands. “A box with some kids’ drawings was placed in my room after the move. The removal guys must have thought it was mine. There was also some baby stuff in there.”
A lump formed in my throat. Did that mean my cold-hearted bitch of a mother kept some of my stuff?”
“What type of baby stuff?”
He rolled his shoulders. “A couple of sleepers, a blanket, a silver rattle, as well as those paintings. There was also one of those bands you wear on your arm when you're in hospital, and it had writing on it. The pen was faded, but I could read it.”
I didn’t need to ask, but did anyway. “What did it say?”
“It gave a date and time of birth and then said Baby of Luna Rose Carter. The rattle had the name Phoenix engraved on it, and the same name was on the back of some of the finger paintings.”
Fuck!
“I see.”
