Page 120 of Embracing the Beat
MICHAELA
Before I can put my phone in my purse, it rings. It’s a Philadelphia area code, but not one of my contacts.
Who else would have my number?
“Hello?”
“Michaela?” I don’t recognize the woman’s voice.
“Y-yes?”
“Michaela, this is Rachel Abbott, West’s mom. Oh, honey.” Her voice sounds watery, and fear spikes through my blood. It’s irrational since I was just texting with West, but what if something happened to him?
“Mrs. Abbott, is West okay?”
She sniffles. “He-he’s fine. He told us about the baby, and we’re so happy—another grandchild.”
He told them about the baby?
“He did?”
“Yes. He’s been staying with us for a about a week. He’s been asking all kinds of questions about pregnancy. Did he tell you Whitney had a baby last year?” She takes a breath before rambling on. “And he left for LA this morning. The stinker wouldn’t even give me your number until just a few minutes ago, even though I’ve been begging for it for days.”
“Well, now that you have it, please use it. I’m happy to keep you all up to date on everything.” I don’t know that I’m doing the right thing, but they deserve to know their grandchild.
“I’d love that. In fact, Whit and I would love to drive down to LA soon and take you baby shopping. Maternity shopping,” she says warmly.
“Both!” a voice I presume belongs to West’s sister, Whitney, calls from the background.
“Both,” Mrs. Abbott repeats.
“I-I’d like that, Mrs. Abbott—”
“Rachel, please.”
“Rachel.”
“Is this weekend too soon?”
I bite back a laugh at her exuberance. “Umm…”
“Mom!” Whitney speaks up again. “Ease up or she’ll think you’re nuts.”
Rachel laughs. “Sorry. Can you tell I’m excited?”
I giggle. “A little. But I’ll let you in on a secret. I am too.”
“I don’t want to come across as crazy though,” she tells me. “So how about you figure out what day works for you and let me know, okay?”
“Okay, I’d like that.”
“We’ll talk to you soon, Michaela. Take care of yourself and that little one.”
“I will,” I say before ending the call.
West told his family about the baby. What does that mean? Sure, he got the results, but he could have kept the news to himself. I gave him an out. He doesn’t need to be a part of this baby’s life. Or mine, for that matter.
The ride home only takes ten minutes or so, but in my head, time drags until I’m an anxious mess, wiping my hands repeatedly on my shorts and taking several deep breaths.
