Page 89 of The Texas Ranger: Saddled Up
“I’m her mother and I say that she shouldn’t put her child up for adoption.” Anne was red-faced, matching her dress.
Poor Harvey stood in the corner looking like he’d been thrown into a den of wolves.
“And I’m only saying that she should make up her own mind. This is her life, her pregnancy. Whatever she decides we should support her,” Pedroa said in her usual calm tone.
Anne wasn’t having it. “Of course, you’d think that.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s not your grandchild,” Anne said haughtily.
Phoebe mouthed to Aasia, “Please help.”
Aasia stepped closer. The monsters were awake. “Why are you two arguing? This isn’t the way to handle this situation.”
Anne turned and settled her fiery gaze on Aasia. “I suppose you’re on Pedora’s side, as always.”
“I’m on Phoebe’s side. She will make the right choice for herself and her child,” Aasia said confidently which earned her a semi-smile from her sister.
However, Anne didn’t like that Aasia didn’t take her side. “How can she even think about adoption? It’s her child.”
“I haven’t decided yet.” Phoebe laid a hand against her still flat stomach. “I only said that I need time to think thingsthrough. This is all so scary for me. I shouldn’t have told you, but I had hoped you might offer good advice.”
Pedora nodded, understanding brightening her wrinkled and weathered complexion. “I remember that feeling. The feeling of your body not belonging to you anymore. This little peanut growing inside of you that dictates your body. Like a hostile takeover.”
Asia absorbed what Pedora was saying. “You have a child?”
She nodded. “I do. Did, I guess. I gave her up for adoption because I knew it was best for her, and for me. I was only sixteen, scared that my parents would kick me out. How would I raise a child?”
“For God’s sake!” Anne whined. “You were a teenager. Phoebe is not. She’s an adult.”
Anger drove through Aasia. “What do you have to gain?” Her question was directed at her shocked mother.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…why are you invested in Phoebe’s pregnancy? I know you and you don’t want grandkids any more than you wanted your children. Same goes for this party. What are you wanting?” Aasia had reached her limits. She was no longer that child who feared going back to foster care.
“How dare you accuse me that I have something to gain. I’m your mother.”
“Are you really?” Aasia asked bitterly.
“I carried you in my womb, didn’t I?” she slurred, the glass of cocktail splashed precariously.
“That doesn’t make a mother. Being a mother means sacrifices. Being there when the baby cries. Nurturing them. Protecting them. Did you do those things?’
Anne slid her narrowed gaze to Phoebe, looking for support. “Well? Are you not going to defend me?”
“Aasia has a valid question,” Phoebe said softly.
Anne’s gasp could have broken the sound barrier. “I have never…”
“No, you have not,” Aasia said in a clipped tone. “So, you don’t have a right to tell Phoebe what she should do with her own body—or her child.”
“You ungrateful—”
“Stop right there!” Bear had stepped forward. “I think this will be enough for one night. Tempers are flared and alcohol has intensified the affect. I think we could all take a breather.”
“And who do you think you are?” Anne’s expression twisted. Her earlier obvious attraction for Bear had disappeared.
