Truth. She knows now.
CHAPTER
TWENTY
MACKENZIE
Christmas in London has been one for the books. My parents quickly fell in love with the city—just as I expected. We spent several days playing tourists and trying all my favorite food spots. Today—Christmas Day—has been low-key, with a homemade breakfast and Christmas Vacation on the television.
The trip was my gift to my parents—I paid for their flights here. So, we kept it simple with stockings, which we opened earlier. They put several gift cards to my favorite restaurants back home since I’ll be returning to North Carolina just after the new year. The reminder brings a swell of warring emotions.
I’m excited to be closer to my family and friends—especially Jordan. The physical distance between us has allowed us to rekindle the friendship and foundation we built that first summer we met. We talk for hours and text constantly in between. With the time difference and his basketball schedule, staying busy with school—and now entertaining my parents—has helped.
What I’m most afraid of is finally facing Trey. Like the immature man-child he’s become, he has left all my text messages on read and hasn’t answered or returned any of my calls. I won’t tell him over text, so Ihave to figure out a way to track him down. I know his team will be in North Carolina at the end of January, so if nothing else, I’ll make it happen then.
The anxiety surrounding Trey—and the role he may or may not play in the baby’s life—can be overwhelming. I’m not prepared for a custody fight, and I will not entertain a romantic relationship with him. Even my parents agree—us together would do nothing but harm for our daughter or son.
Speaking of which, he or she kicks, reminding me they’re in there, and it’s time for me to find a snack. After Jordan’s visit, I decided I didn’t want to know the gender until delivery. I thought it would be a fun surprise, even though Reagan nearly fainted when I told her. I believe her exact words were, “How am I supposed to plan the baby shower if I don’t know the gender?” Eventually, she came around and went full-on Auntie mode, getting lists and plans set in motion.
After grabbing another sugar cookie from the kitchen, I settle back down on the couch, pulling a soft red blanket over my legs. My belly has finally popped over the last few weeks. Not much fits anymore, so I’ll have to get maternity clothes soon.
My dad pulls me closer, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and hugging me. “I’m so proud of you, Mackenzie Lyn Banks. You’ve shown strength and grace in the face of uncertainty. You’re going to be the best momma to that little one, and I can’t wait to be a grandpa.” His words bring happy tears to my eyes, and I lean my head on his chest for a moment, trying to find the words to share with the greatest man I’ve ever known.
“Thank you, Daddy. Your love and support mean the world to me.”
Mom walks in and smiles tenderly at the scene, then claps her hands before handing me a box and two envelopes.
Confused, I take the two cream-colored envelopes, both with my name on them. One I recognize as my mother’s handwriting. I open hers first, my hand flies to my mouth as I stare between her and my dad.
“Merry Christmas, baby girl.” Mom tells me and joins us on the couch in a family hug as I start to cry again at the love my parents continually show me.
Inside is a picture of the crib I’ve had my eye on for months. It was sold out everywhere, so I’m not sure how they were able to get it. “How did you find one?” I ask and my mom smirks over to my dad, who reluctantly smiles back.
“Apparently, Jordan Mills has pull everywhere—even the baby industry. When he found out it was sold out, he called the company and they pulled some strings to help us get it. We were going to go another route, but he wouldn’t have it. That man is nothing if not persistent.” My mom looks proud as she tells the story. After the last few months, this doesn’t surprise me in the least. It screams Jordan and his desire to take care of the people he cares about.
When my parents arrived, I spilled everything. I swore my mom to secrecy until Jordan has a chance to talk to his parents. She was beyond thrilled at the news, telling me she’s been waiting for us to finally get together for years. My dad was more hesitant, but I think he’s coming around to the idea of Jordan and me.
“That sounds like him. Thank y’all so much for this. I love it and I can’t believe I’ll have a little one to put in there in just a few months.” My mom beams at the thought of that. Sarah Banks was born to be a mother—grandmother.
When she hands me the next envelope, I try to hand it back to her. “No, this is already too much, you don’t need to give me anything else.”
Shaking her head, she puts it in my hands again, “Sweetie, this isn’t from us.” My throat goes dry and I realize this has to be a gift from Jordan. My hands tremble as I carefully rip the envelope open and pull out a thick piece of paper in Jordan’s handwriting. A smile lights my face as I read the note from the man who has quickly become more than my best friend’s brother.
Mack-
Merry Christmas! I wish I was there with you, but like I said, next year…and every year after that.
This gift has a few parts. I know you’ve been busy and stressed with school, so I’ve arranged for a prenatal massage and spa day for you and your mom. A driver will pick you up from your flat Tuesday morning at 8 AM sharp. After, you will go to Harrods where a personal shopper will meet you and help you find a new maternity wardrobe.
Last, is the box. This gift is for the baby—because I couldn’t help myself.
Yours Forever, Jordan
When I lower the letter,my parents are both grinning from ear to ear. I’m in awe of this man. He’s thoughtful beyond anything I could ever expect or hope for. I reach over and pull a small box with red and green plaid wrapping paper. It’s topped with a large white bow, which I carefully unwrap first and set aside. Peeling the paper off, I pull the lid off the box and a smile stretches across my face.
A tiny purple Charlotte Sting jersey with the number 33 on it. When I flip it over, the name Mills on the back makes me smile. A small note is in the box, addressed to the baby.
Hi baby.
