“But that doesn’t mean I can’t be a good mother.” At his skeptical expression, I countered, “Have I ever once said I didn’t want to have kids someday?”
“No, but—”
“I’m in a good place in my life to have a baby.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, he countered, “Unmarried and alone?”
I huffed out a frustrated breath. “I meant, I’m twenty-eight, not eighteen. I’ve been to college—I have my masters. I make good money. I can support this kid.”
“I’m not arguing with that, Mimi.”
“Then what?” I knew if I was going to do this baby thing, I wanted and needed Dee’s support.
Dee shrugged. “I dunno. It’s just hard for me to think of you with a kid.”
Staring down at my hands, I thought of the one person who believed I would be a good mother. “Mama Sofia saw me with children.”
“How do you know?”
“She told me a few months before she died that one day I’d be a family matriarch just like she was. That she prayed to the saints to bless me with a family.” My throat burned with the sobs I tried desperately to choke down. The agony of grief once again wrapped me in its death-like vise as the hard realization that the one person I needed more than anything right now was gone.
Dee reached over to cup my cheek. “Is that why you want this baby so much? Because you’re still so emotionally wrecked from Sofia’s death?”
“Thanks for making me sound like a selfish nut-job,” I hissed.
He groaned. “Jesus, if that test hadn’t told me you were pregnant, I’d know it from the crazy mood swings.”
“I’m sorry. Truly, I am. But for whatever reason, I know I want to have this baby, no matter how hard it’s going to be.”
Dee leaned back against the couch cushion, surmising my words. After what felt like a small eternity, he smiled. “Then, I’m happy for you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
With a squeal, I dove over to wrap my arms around his neck. I squeezed him tight. “Thank you, Dee. You make me so, so happy.”
“Ease up, baby girl. I just said I was happy for you, not that I was gonna move in and help you raise the kid. Don’t even think about me changing shitty diapers.”
I laughed. “I don’t care about any of that.”
“Bullshit. You’ll change your tune and be expectin’ me to stay over nights or watch the kid during the day so you can get your beauty sleep.”
Raising my brows, I countered, “And you just might find yourself so in love with my little spawn that you want to spend all of your free time here.”
“Mmm, hmm, we’ll see about that.” But his lips did curve up in a smile like he was enjoying the thought of being around my baby.
“If it’s a boy, I think I’ll name if after you. Derwin Martinelli has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” I teased.
Dee shook his head. “You should be thinking about naming it after its father.” He shot me a pointed look. “And just what about Mr. AJ? Where does he fit into all this?”
The happy little bubble I’d built around myself deflated at the mention of him. Resting my elbows on my knees, I then cradled my head in my hands. “I don’t know.”
“He needs to know, Mimi.”
I peeked at Dee through my fingers. “I’m not sure after leaving him handcuffed to a shower that he’s going to be really glad to see me or want to hear the joyous news that he knocked me up.”
“You won’t know until you talk to him.” When I snorted contemptuously, Dee shook his head. “AJ was a lot of things, but a total uncaring bastard wasn’t one of them.”
Deep down, I knew he was right. AJ had too good a heart to ever be an asshole to me if I was pregnant with his child. My mind flashed back to that weekend at the farm—the way he had interacted with Jude and Melody. He was good with kids, and he would be a good father.
With a resigned sigh, I nodded. “Okay, okay, I’ll get in touch with him.”
“Good,” Dee replied.
“But only after I’m through the first trimester.”
He narrowed his eyes. “And why the fuck should you wait?”
“I’ve got to be six weeks along as it is. It won’t hurt to wait to tell him until I know I’m not going to miscarry. That way I’ll know for sure that everything is okay with the baby before I ruin his life with the news.”
“Or make him the happiest man on earth,” Dee countered.
“Yeah, I’m not going to hold my breath on that one.”
Dee crossed his arms over his chest and huffed out a frustrated breath. “Let’s call this what it really is. You’re afraid of becoming your mother.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re afraid that AJ is going to think you’re trying to trap him into marriage just like your gold-digging mother did with Duke.”
I rolled my eyes. “She may have given birth to me, but she’s never been my mother. That role was Mama Sofia’s.”
“Admit it, Mimi.”
I threw up my hands in surrender. “Fine. Yes, of course I’m worried about that. How can I not be? After ignoring his initial text and calls, I show up after not seeing or talking to him for two months to tell him news that financially, if not emotionally, binds him to me for the rest of our lives?’ Yeah, call me crazy for worrying about that!”
Dee’s eyes widened. “You never told me he tried to call or text you.”
Shit. I had shamelessly kept that little tidbit of information to myself. Mainly because I was a bitch and knew it would make AJ appear more sympathetic to Dee. “Yeah, he did.” At Dee’s epically pissed pursed lips, I sighed. “He never came to see me or sent me flowers or anything. Just a few phone calls and texts. In the end, they didn’t change anything about our situation.”
“If it weren’t for your delicate condition, I would spank you right now for being a withholding little cunt!”
Grimacing, I covered my ears. “You know I hate that word.”
Dee snorted. “Which is exactly why I used it.”
“Testa di cazzo,” I grumbled.
“Hey, truth hurts, baby girl.”
“It doesn’t change anything really,” I repeated, more for myself than for him.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he sighed. “Fine. But let’s get this straight. I’m going to be on your ass constantly about how far along you are. The instant you hit that second trimester mark, you’re going to find out where in the world AJ is, and we’re going there. ASAP. Got it?”