Shaking my head, I turn away from Lenny’s exaggerated pout and walk over to Alex, still passed out on the couch. His face is smeared with pizza sauce, and his T-shirt’s riding up, exposing his pudgy belly.
Fuck, when did he get so big?
As I reach to pick up the half-eaten slice threatening to fall from his hand, his eyes flutter open. “Momma?”
Something in my chest tightens. “Yeah, little bear. Momma’s home.”
He blinks sleepily, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Missed you,” he mumbles, arms reaching up.
I scoop him up, grunting at his weight. “Missed you too, kiddo.” I press a quick kiss to his forehead, tasting the salt of his skin.
As I carry him to the master bedroom, my mind drifts back to the day he was born. Fuck, that was a nightmare. Twenty-six hours of labor in a dinky clinic in Piney Grove, population 1,872. Middle of fucking nowhere, which was exactly what I needed.
I’d rolled into town eight months pregnant, car barely holding together, with nothing but a duffel bag of clothes and a wad of cash I’d rather forget how I earned. But something about this place… I don’t believe in fate or any of that bullshit, but it felt right.
I lay Alex down on the bed, and he immediately curls around his ratty old teddy bear, Bobo. The thing’s missing an eye and most of its stuffing, but Alex won’t sleep without it.
“Night, little bear,” I whisper, pulling the blanket over him.
“Night, Momma,” he mumbles, already half asleep.
I stand there for a moment, watching him. Sometimes, it hits me like a punch to the gut—I made this. This perfect little person who somehow doesn’t have an ounce of the darkness that’s in me. How the fuck did that happen?
Shaking off the thought, I head back to the main room. Lenny’s still glued to his phone, thumbs flying over the screen.
I grab a glass from the dish rack and pull out the boxed wine from the fridge. It’s cheap shit, but it does the job.
“You want some?” I ask Lenny, waggling the box at him.
He looks up, nose wrinkling. “Nah, I’m good. That stuff tastes like ass.”
I snort, pouring myself a generous glass. “Your loss, kid.”
I flop down on the couch next to him, taking a long swig. The wine’s bitter and acidic, but it washes away the lingering taste of hospital antiseptic from my throat.
“So,” I say, nudging Lenny with my foot. “You ready for Em to get here tomorrow?”
Lenny’s face lights up, and he finally puts down his phone. “Hell yeah! It’s been forever.”
I can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. Em’s visit has been all he’s talked about for weeks. “Yeah, a whole year. Kid’s gonna flip when she sees how big Alex has gotten.”
“You think she’ll still want to play video games with me?” Lenny asks, a hint of insecurity creeping into his voice.
I roll my eyes. “Len, she’s your sister, not fucking Beyoncé. Course she’ll still want to hang out with you.”
He grins, relaxing a bit. “Cool. I’ve got this new game I think she’ll love. It’s got zombies and—”
I hold up a hand, cutting him off. “Spare me the details, nerd. I’m sure you two will have a blast killing virtual braindead monsters or whatever.”
Lenny laughs, then his expression turns thoughtful. “Hey, Wren? You think… you think Em’s okay? Like, really okay?”
I take another swig of wine, buying myself a moment. Truth is, I worry about Em all the fucking time. She’s out there in the real world, trying to make something of herself. Part of me is proud as hell, but another part… Fuck, another part wishes she was here where I could keep an eye on her.
“She’s tough,” I say finally. “Smart as hell, too. She’ll be fine.”
Lenny nods, but I can see the worry lingering in his eyes. I sigh, setting down my wine glass.
“Look, Len. Em’s got a good head on her shoulders. She’s not… she’s not me, okay? She’s gonna do great things.”
