“They’re ruined,” he growls back, still looking displeased.
“It's nothing we can’t fix. We should take them home and put them in some water.” I look back over my shoulder to the girls, who are all looking concerned. I don’t want them to start questioning my decisions. Greaser’s under a lot of stress; they’d be wrong to judge him on how he’s behaved in front of them.
“Fine.” He takes the bouquet from my hands and presses his palm into the base of my spine, starting to guide me to the door before I even have a chance to say goodbye and thank them for all their hard work today.
“See you in the morning; I’ll be the pregnant one in the white dress,” I call back at them over my shoulder, trying my best to sound excited.
“Have you got a problem with my mom?” Greasers asks me as we walk through the door at home.
“No, not at all; I think your mom is lovely. I just worry that she can be a little overbearing at times.” I reach under the sink to get a vase, filling it with water to stand the bouquet in, so I can rearrange some of the crushed flowers. “I guess I just figured it would be you and me alone when the baby arrives. I want some time to myself so I can bond with her,” I explain, really hoping he changes his mind about her staying here with us after the wedding. I don’t think a month with Iris here would fly by at all.
“Baby, you’ve carried her for nine months; how much more bonded do you wanna be?” He smothers me again, taking my head in his oily hands and filling my mouth with his tongue. “Perhaps you should be focusing more onourbond. We’re gonna be husband and wife, tomorrow,” he reminds me, and puts that heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach when I think about what he’s going to be expecting from me tomorrow night.
“Well, don't you think it’s going to be awkward with your mother right across the hall?” I try using what I can to my advantage.
“You planning on being loud for me, darlin’?” He laughs against my mouth, and I manage to smile like the idea doesn’t make me queasy. “Mom being with us is a good thing. I want the two of you to get along,” he tells me, dragging himself away to get a beer from the fridge. “Especially since you don’t have a good relationship with your own mom. That ain’t the kinda example you wanna set for our little girl, is it?” he checks before twisting the cap on his bottle.
“Before you start drinking, I was hoping we could practise those breathing exercises again. We haven’t done it in a while, and like you said, the time is getting closer.” I’ll do anything to get off the subject of mothers, right now. Even sit and go through those ridiculous YouTube videos again.
“You don’t need any more practise, you were perfect at it last time,” he tells me, lifting the bottle to his mouth as he heads for the couch.
“Well... do you really think you should be drinking at all? What if I go into labor? Am I supposed to drive myself to the hospital?” I question him, wondering where this change has suddenly come from. He’s gone from borderline obsession to completely uninterested.
“And here was me thinking the woman turned into a nagafterthe wedding.” He laughs at me. “Baby, you need to relax, our girl’s still got another month of growing to do. Maybe I should start making you fewer pancakes.” He pinches some of my belly skin and winks before laughing some more, and it makes me look down at my ever-expanding body and feel self-conscious about it. I know that I’ve gotten a lot bigger over the past few weeks, but the doctor said that’s perfectly normal.
“Come here, darlin’, you know I don’t mind it. I just keep thinkin’ how much hotter you’ll look when you're carrying the childIput inside you.” He takes another swig from his beer and wraps his arm around my shoulder, holding me tight against him and making me feel imprisoned.
I stay quiet and still, my head screaming at me to stop being stupid and to set myself free, and my heart pines for a man who’s miles away and doesn’t want me.
“What do you mean, we can’t have him?” Peyton yells at the woman on the other side of the desk. “We did the right thing. We want to make this official. That little boy loves us; he’s become part of our family.” The woman remains straight-faced and unresponsive as my girl rants at her.
“I’m sorry, Miss, but not making us aware that he was in your care for so long didn’t help your case. That, alongside Mr. Ashford's criminal record, all factored into the board making the decision that he’d be better homed somewhere else,” she explains robotically, and I watch my girl’s world shatter.
“We love him; he felt safe with us,” she explains, hoping it will change the woman's mind.
“I’m sorry, the board's decision is final.” There’s a hint of a sad smile on her face for Peyton, but no sympathy for me when she glances over to me.
“And what if Peyton was making this application by herself?” I ask; the past few months, I’ve watched my girl find her spark again. Taking care of Leo has taken all her focus off trying to get pregnant. It’s given her a chance to become the mom she so desperately wants to be, and I was even starting to think I was doing a good job of the whole father thing.
“That doesn’t matter, Raze, I’m not making the appli?—”
“Would it?” I talk over Peyton and ask the woman my question again.
“You served a jail sentence for a long time and a serious offence, Mr. Ashford. You're also the president of a very well-known outlaw gang.”
“A motorcycle club,” I correct her, feeling weak and fuckin’ useless
“I’m sorry it’s not the answer you both wanted, we’d be happy for you to have supervised visitation–”
“Supervised?” Peyton looks horrified. “That boy lived with us for months; we took care of him, we fed and clothed him. He trusted us.” She sobs some more, and I don’t even have the strength myself to comfort her.
“Not to our knowledge; if we’d had known where he was, he would have been removed from your care immediately. A biker clubhouse is not the place to raise a child. Now, would you like to apply for visitation? I’m sure Leo would like to see you again.”
“This is cruel.” Peyton shakes her head and stands up. “We’re not bad people; we could give him a home and a family that loves him. The people on that board hadn’t even met us; they hadn’t even met Leo. They are making judgments on people they know nothing about.”
“Come on, Pey, let’s go.” I grab her by her shoulders before she loses her cool and starts making a scene.
“I don’t want to leave here without him. You saw how scared he was when they made him go with that woman. I promised him we’d fix it.” She looks up at me with eyes full of tears.
