Tears pool again, but they’re softer now. Less panic. More relief.
“I just want to do it right,” I say.
“You are,” Maureen says, giving my hand a squeeze. “All you have to do is show up and love that baby as much as you can. And lean on the people who love you, family or not. That’s what we did. That’s what you’re doing.”
Maureen reaches for the laptop again.
“Let’s keep looking at places. Not because you have to leave right away, but because I want you to feel prepared and confident about what’s next. And we’ll help you get there. You’ve got a whole family behind you now.”
I don’t even try to stop the tears this time. She’s so calm, and it rubs off on me so much that I actually start to believe I’ll be okay.
Cody’s diesel truck pulls up and the front door creaks open only seconds after the engine cuts. I wipe my tears away quickly,just before he steps inside. A backwards baseball cap is pulled over his dark hair, and he’s wearing a white suit-type thing, mud on the pants of it. He looks like an astronaut.
“Hey.” His eyes are on me, and his tone dips lower. “What’s wrong?”
I try to laugh off the awkwardness as I swipe quickly at my cheeks.
“Nothing,” I lie, hoping the redness burning across my face doesn’t give me away.
“Just talking about life,” Maureen says with a light laugh, rubbing my shoulder. “And how sometimes it sucks.”
He slips out of his boots then drags out the chair beside me and sits. He glances at his mom first before me.
It’s not just a glance, though. It’s one of those heavy, lingering stares that feels like he’s reading my thoughts.
“I’ll let you two talk. Your dad’s waiting on dinner yet.” Maureen stands, squeezing my shoulder again as she passes.
“Thanks for the food,” I tell her just before she slips out the door.
Cody looks back to me the second it clicks shut.
“What’d she say?” he asks softly.
I take a deep breath, but it’s shaky. “She just brought dinner and was helping me look at apartments and numbers and things. Reality hit kind of hard, I guess.”
He doesn’t speak right away, just swallows, his throat bobbing slightly.
Then his hand finds my leg under the table. Slow. Hesitant. Like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to. It’s warm and calming in the way I needed.
I wipe the corner of my eye before looking back at him. “I just feel like I’m crumbling.”
“You’re not. You’ve got me, you’ve got all of us.” He doesn’t pull away. Just sits with me in the silence, giving me a second tobreathe. Then he clears his throat. “I know you said you weren’t overly religious, but when stuff gets heavy like this, it helps to pray.”
Well, that isn’t even close to what I was expecting to come out of his mouth. I feel my skin getting itchy and my heart beats faster.
“I don’t know how to pray,” I admit quietly.
“There’s not really a right way. It’s not supposed to be a fancy speech. You just talk to God, like you would a friend.”
I just nod.
“You want me to pray with you?”
My body stills, and I swallow the lump forming in my throat.
“Not tonight.”
“Okay.” His hand leaves my leg. “That offer’s always open. No pressure. Just…if you ever want someone to sit and do that, I will.”
