One-Timer (Carolina Comets)

“Oh. My. Gosh!”

My mother’s screech is so loud it makes my ears ring.

She wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a hug the best she can since my bump has grown so much. “You look adorable, Hollis!”

I force a grin because I sure don’t feel adorable.

I feel gigantic, exhausted, and just plain overwhelmed all the time. If my feet aren’t hurting, it’s my back. If I don’t have a headache, I’m so tired I can’t keep my eyes open. If I’m not hungry, I’m cranky. It has been nonstop one thing after the next, and I am really looking forward to these next few months being over with.

My mother gently cups my protruding belly, and I momentarily feel guilty because I don’t even want her to touch it.

Just Lowell.

“You’re beautiful.” She runs her hands over me. “Just beautiful.”

“Mom,” I whine. “Stop.”

“You might as well stop while you’re ahead, Mrs. Kelly. She’s never going to listen. I try to tell her every day that she’s gorgeous, and she always argues with me.” Lowell shoots me a look, then sticks his hand out. “It’s great to finally meet you. I’m Cameron.”

My mother looks down her nose at his hand and then at his face, back to his hand. Finally she slaps it out of the way and pulls him into a giant hug.

“Oh, don’t be silly, my dear. Hug me! We’re family now!”

It’s the first time I’ve ever heard somebody call Lowell family, and it’s the first time I realize he is family. Even if Lowell and I aren’t together, this baby will always connect us.

That somehow terrifies me and gives me comfort all at once.

My mother shoots me a grin over his shoulder, then winks. He’s cute, she mouths.

And she’s right. He is cute. He’s really, really cute.

He’s cute when he’s doing things like rubbing my feet or my belly, fixing me a snack, or grabbing my phone because I forgot to get it before I sat down.

But my favorite part of him? My favorite part of him is at night when he lays his head on my belly and feels our baby move. He does that nearly every night that he’s home, actually. I can’t remember the last time we’ve spent a night apart from one another.

That’s another thing that somehow terrifies me and gives me comfort all at once. I’m getting so used to him, and I’m starting to worry I’m getting too used to him.

We’ve still yet to discuss the mechanics of what happens after the baby is here. Does he want to move in? Does he want me to move in? Or is he satisfied with what we’re doing now? If he’s not satisfied with what we’re doing now, does he want to co-parent, or will he fight for custody? Will he pay child support, or will he work something else out?

I don’t know, and part of me doesn’t want to know the answer to any of these questions. I know that’s not logical or smart and this is something we need to figure out soon, but not now.

Not now because it’s Christmastime and my mom just drove across the state to be here. Though I’ll never admit it out loud to her because she’ll give me that look that says I told you so, I missed my mom and I need her now more than ever.

My mom places her hand on my bump again, then looks at Lowell. “Blink twice if it’s a girl.”

He doesn’t react at all.

He’s been very tight-lipped about what we’re having, and I love his dedication to it.

“Wait a second—did you just let Mom touch your belly?” Harper asks from the kitchen. “That’s bullshit! You never let me touch it.”

“Really? I touch it all the time,” Lowell says.

Harper waves him off. “You don’t count, Dad.”

I don’t miss the way he smiles when she calls him that. I’ve picked up on how much he enjoys the thought of being a dad, which is exactly why I got him the cheesiest gift I could think of for Christmas, and I can’t wait to give it to him.

“Oh, hey, guys,” Collin says as he comes padding down the hallway wearing a pair of joggers with the Comets logo on them. “Sorry, I was putting the dogs up. They get a little rambunctious once too many people are here, and I didn’t want them bothering anyone.”

He wraps his arms around me in a gentle hug.

It’s funny because every time I’ve seen Collin since I told him I’m pregnant, he hugs me, only he always does it lightly like he’s terrified he’s going to break me by squeezing me too hard.

I know Harper and Collin don’t want kids and I completely respect that, but I also know they’re going to make the world’s greatest aunt and uncle.

“Hey, Col.” I squeeze him back just as lightly.

“You’re huge,” he says, and I feel the moment he realizes what he said. He releases me and steps back two feet. “I…I mean… You’re…”

Lowell takes an aggressive step toward him, stepping in front of me as if to protect me.

Not going to lie, the move makes me totally wet.

I grab Lowell’s shirt, tugging him back. “Down, boy, I know what he meant.” I turn to Collin. “I think what you meant to say was, Gosh, Hollis, that baby sure is growing and you’re carrying that extra weight that is definitely not yours so well.”

He flicks a finger gun at me. “That. That’s exactly what I meant.”

My mother points to Lowell. “Is this one dumb like this one is?” she asks, referring to Collin.

“Sometimes,” I answer honestly.

“Hey!” Lowell objects. “I am not.”

“You literally told me two days ago that I was ‘cute for a pregnant chick.’”

“I didn’t… I was…”

Harper walks up and smacks both of them on the back of the head. “Idiots. Both of you.”

They both turn red at their moments of idiocy.

The doorbell chimes and Harper grabs Collin, dragging him toward the front door for host duties.

“Come on,” she says. “Let’s go pretend to be good hosts and greet the rest of your idiot friends.”

“They aren’t idiots,” he argues.

“I beg to differ. I’ve met Miller.”

“Eh.” He tips his head back and forth. “Fair.”

“So, Lowell,” my mother says, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the kitchen. She hops up on a stool and pats the one next to her, indicating he should sit too. “Tell me, how did you and my daughter meet exactly? She’s been very hush-hush on the subject.”

My mother and I have been dancing around this subject for months. I know she would never judge me for what happened, but it doesn’t make it any less embarrassing that I got pregnant by my one-night stand the night of my sister’s wedding. It’s even more embarrassing that I punched that one-night stand the day before because I was an emotional wreck.

It’s just not something I’ve wanted to rehash.

“Well, Mrs. Kelly, it’s kind of a funny story…” Lowell says, taking a seat next to her.

She slaps at his shoulder. “Oh, stop with that Mrs. Kelly stuff. I’m not much of a Mrs. anymore. My bastard cheating husband has been dead for years.”

She says it lightheartedly, but I know what my father did still hurts her, even after all these years. Just like even though I’m pregnant and having a baby with another man, I’m still hurt by what Thad did to me.

Sometimes when I think about everything I’ve been through in the last six or seven months, it kind of blows my mind. I jumped from one life-changing situation to the next with no room to breathe. No wonder I’m so damn tired all the time.

As if they don’t want me to forget about them, the baby moves, and I lay my hand on my belly to calm them.

“Just call me Evelyn,” my mother tells him. “Or Nana.” She looks at me. “Just no Grandma or Grandmother. I want a cool, fun, young, hip nickname.”

“Well, you’re not off to a very banging start with that request. Nobody says hip anymore.”

“Or cool for that matter.”

She waves her hand. “Stop picking on Nana and just tell me the story of how you two met. Don’t leave out a single detail either.”

Much to my dismay, he doesn’t.

Not a single one.

By the time he’s finished regaling her with the tale of how we met, everyone—Ryan, Rhodes, Miller, Emilia, and Smith—has arrived for dinner.

My mother stays quiet through the whole thing, not letting out a single peep. Then, when he’s finally finished embarrassing me in front of everybody, she looks over at me and says, “Did you throw that punch like your daddy taught you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She nods once. “Good girl. Now let’s eat.”

Dinner is finished, most of the mess is cleaned up, and leftovers—what little there are with several hockey players here—are put away. Harper and I are standing side by side at the kitchen sink washing dishes.

Lowell has come in here no less than four times trying to get me to go in there and sit down while he does the dishes, but I keep shoving him out of the kitchen and back to the giant sunroom everyone is crowded in.

“So,” Harper starts, bumping her shoulder into mine, “how was your last kid-free Christmas?”

“You mean other than Lowell telling our mother how I punched him?”

She laughs, nodding. “Yes, other than that.”

I grin too. “It was nice. Quiet. Even with Miller here.”

I scrub my brush over the dirty pan, mulling over what she just asked me. This was my last kid-free Christmas, and that’s something that didn’t even cross my mind until Harper brought it up. I’ve also now had my last kid-free Halloween and my last kid-free Thanksgiving.

I guess I just never really thought about all the ways those holidays are going to change for me from now on. I wonder if it’s something Lowell’s thought about.

“How are things going with him?” I glance over at her. “Lowell, I mean. I assume from that dopey grin on your face, that’s who you’re thinking of.”

“It wasn’t a dopey grin.”

“Oh, it totally was. It’s very obvious you two are smitten with each other.”

I decide to ignore that. “Things with Lowell are fine. I think we’re both starting to really get excited about the baby.”

“And is everything else fine?” She bounces her brows up and down.

“Very subtle.” I laugh. “Everything is…nice.”

“Like nice or”—she humps the air—“nice?”

I laugh. “The second one.”

“Yeah?” She bumps my shoulder again. “Good. I like Lowell.”

“I like him too.”

“Like like him?”

“What is this, middle school?”

“Sometimes it feels like it.”

“That’s fair. And like like. I think.”

“You think?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I just got divorced, Harper. It’s…well, it’s sort of complicated, you know.”

She frowns. “Wow. I kind of forgot about that.”

“I didn’t.”

She chuckles. “In that case, just be careful, you know? Nice is…well, nice and all, but broken hearts suck.”

“So much,” I agree. “But I’ll be careful.”

“Good. Because I’d hate to have to help Collin bury his captain’s body.” She shakes her head. “I still cannot believe you’re having a baby with a hockey player.”

“I still cannot believe you’re married to a hockey player.” I wave my hand around the kitchen. “I mean, look at this… Your whole life has changed.”

Now she’s the one with a dopey grin on her face. “I know. And just think, if I actually had hit him with my car, none of this would have happened.”

“It is really concerning how bad at night driving you are.”

“It’s concerning how bad she is at driving in general,” Ryan says, bounding into the room with Emilia and my mother hot on her heels. “One time in college, she ran over her curb so bad she bent the rim and we had to get it towed. But don’t worry, she drove on it like that for three days before she had it fixed because she couldn’t tell the difference between her bad driving and a bent rim.”

My mother’s mouth drops open. “Harper Dolores Kelly!”

“I think you mean Harper Dolores Wright.” My sister grins proudly.

Sometimes with everything crazy that’s been going on in my life lately, I forget she and Collin are still firmly in their honeymoon phase.

I try to think back on my honeymoon phase with Thad, but I can’t remember a time when I ever looked as happy as Harper looks right now. If I’m being completely honest with myself, whatever is going on with Lowell is probably the happiest I’ve been in years.

Which is really damn sad when you think about it.

“So, Mother,” Harper starts, and the way she says it not-so-nonchalantly has me concerned that I’m not going to like whatever she is about to say. “Now that the guys are in the other room and we can gab without them eavesdropping, what did you think of Lowell?”

I shoot my sister a glare. Traitor.

“You mean other than the ass on him?”

“Mother!” I drop the plate I’m holding in the sink, water and bubbles splashing everywhere.

“What? I have eyes, so you can’t really blame me. You girls keep bringing around all these hockey players, and everybody knows hockey players have cute butts.”

“It’s true. I’m pretty sure there was a study done on it or something.”

“Yeah. It’s just science at this point,” Ryan agrees with Emilia.

“I’m like ninety-nine point nine percent sure that’s not at all how science works.”

“How come nobody knows how science works?” I mutter.

“Anyway,” my mother says, ignoring me, “I think he’s a catch.”

“A catch? Nobody says that anymore.”

“First I can’t say cool or hip, and now I can’t say catch?”

Ryan pats her arm. “Don’t worry, Evelyn. My grams is very up to date on all the hottest lingo. She can fill you in on what’s in these days.”

“I would love that. Us grandmothers have to stick together.”

I don’t tell her Ryan’s grandmother is definitely too old for some of the things that come out of her mouth. I’ve only met her once at Harper and Collin’s wedding, and the way that woman was flirting with some of the guys from the team, I was surprised she didn’t ask Miller to go home with her. I was also glad, because he might actually have done it.

“Well, since I can’t say he’s a catch, can I say that…” A slow, saccharine grin pulls across her lips. “I like him. I really, really like him. And he is going to be an amazing father to your baby, Hollis.”

It’s probably just the hormones—definitely 100% just the hormones—but my mother’s words have tears pooling in my eyes in an instant. I don’t think I realized how badly I wanted my mother to approve of the father of my baby.

“Honestly?” She lifts a shoulder. “I’m just glad it’s not Thad. That man was a total douchebag. I can still say that, right?”

“Oh my gosh, thank you!” Emilia agrees. “I have been saying that for years! He gave me such bad vibes.”

“He really did. He reminded me of your father, actually.”

My mouth slackens. “I had no idea that was how you thought about him, Mom.”

“I didn’t want to say anything because I knew how much you loved him, and you seemed happy. I thought maybe it was just my own insecurities about my marriage falling apart, and I didn’t think it would be fair to put that on your relationship. In the end, it turned out I was right, and that’s the last thing I ever wanted.” She looks between Harper and me. “I know you girls think I’m overprotective and all I want to do is smother you, and while that may be partially true, I do it because I love you more than anything and I only want what’s good for you.” She looks pointedly at my belly. “I hope you’ll understand that soon too.”

I will. I already do.

“I can tell your man out there with the cute butt does.”

She winks, and we all laugh, the tension in the room breaking.

“All right, who is in here talking about my cute butt again?” Collin says as he swaggers into the kitchen, followed closely by the rest of the guys.

“Just because someone mentions a nice butt, doesn’t mean they are talking about yours.” Harper pats his cheek.

He snorts. “Right. Sure.”

“They could be talking about mine.” Miller turns around, jutting his backside out for all to see.

“I can assure you, it was not your ass,” Emilia deadpans.

I don’t miss the way Smith’s eyes narrow when Emilia looks at Miller’s ass. Much like he did at Harper and Collin’s wedding, he catches me staring at him and flicks his gaze away.

Interesting…

“Rude.” Miller glares. “I think for that, you owe me a present.”

“Is that your way of asking if we can do gifts now?” Harper asks.

He folds his hands under his chin. “Please, Mom?”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine, let’s go. Everyone to the big room.”

She waves everyone that way, and they all file out until it’s just Lowell and me. He wraps his arms around my waist just as I’m drying my hands on the dish towel, and I smile down at the sight, admiring the way his fingers are splayed out over my bump.

“You up for staying around for gifts?” He presses a kiss into my neck. “I know you weren’t feeling well earlier.”

My doctor isn’t too worried about it as long as I keep hydrated, but I’m still having lots of nausea and am throwing up a few times a week. Parts of me want to hurry this pregnancy along so I don’t have to deal with it anymore, but a large part of me wants it to slow down too. It’s going too fast, and I admit that I’m a little scared of what’s to come next.

“I’m good if you’re good.”

“I am.” I turn in his arms. “Besides, I got you something I think you’ll like.”

“Oh, are we doing presents?”

Panic shoots through me. Crap. I didn’t even think to ask. I know we’re not together, but I just assumed it would be good for me to get the father of my baby a Christmas gift. Is that going too far?

He laughs. “I’m kidding. We’re doing presents. You should see your face.”

“You’re mean.” I pinch his sides, and he yelps.

“Hey! Be nice. Coach will have your ass if you go damaging this body.”

“I’m not scared of Coach.”

“You should be. He’s little but mean.”

“I’m little but mean.”

“True, but you won’t hurt me.”

“Yeah?”

“Nah. I’m too much of a catch for you to do that.”

I gasp. “You heard that?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny that all of us guys were standing around the corner listening in.”

“Cameron!” I hiss. “That’s awful!”

He shrugs. “It’s good for our ego.”

“Yeah, because everyone’s talking about your nice butts.”

“I don’t hear you complaining about my nice butt.”

“Eh. It’s okay.”

“Okay?” He looks offended. “Just okay?”

“Yep.” I grab his hand, tugging him toward where I can already hear Miller getting into the gifts. “Now come on. Let’s open presents so we can go home and you can touch my butt.”

His brows rise. “Like really, really touch your butt?”

“Depends on how fast we get these gifts opened.”

Then he’s the one tugging me out of the room.