Page 54 of Love is Grand
She opened her mouth to argue, but I shook my head.
“The sooner we clean up, the sooner you can pick up Weezie. And then later, we’ll have our date.”
I didn’t know when I became a romantic, but it felt pretty damn good.
• June •
Shell
“Mom, I’m fine,” I said, arguing with her while Weezie was upstairs playing with her new doll, courtesy of Cal.
“Shell, baby doll.” My mother might have said my name sweetly, but the look on her face was anything but. “You’re out of your league. Ricky was a nobody. You thought you loved him—I get that. But he did you dirty.”
“Mom—”
When I started to speak, she raised a hand in the air to interrupt me. “I like Adam, but Caleb isn’t Adam.”
She’d started calling Cal by his full name after his last visit. Unfortunately, she’d shown up at the same time as he did to pick up Weezie. He’d come with Jack to pick me up for dinner, flashing his Rolex and white smile, picking Weezie up and spinning her in the air.
My mom was less than impressed with his antics, and even less so with his idea to rent a house on the island. Temporarily, she’d said, throwing his word back at him. Of course, Cal being the smooth businessman he was, he pretended like she wasn’t having an attitude and entertained nonstop questions from Weezie.
“He’s only getting a place here while you’re pregnant. Then what? Does he want a family? Is he going to take care of you with all that money of his?”
I closed my eyes and ran my hand along my belly.
“Sit down,” my mom barked.
Seated on a stool at the same counter where Cal and I had made love, had sex, or whatever it was, I took a breath.
“Look, Mom, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I’m starting production on the syrups in a few weeks, and I’m going full-time with Dad. Cal is planning to cover the cost of a sitter for the baby when he or she arrives.”
Another new development was that Cal and I spoke on the phone about every other day. It usually evolved into a FaceTime where he talked to my belly. In these calls, I saw a softer side of him. Maybe it was the protective layer of technology that allowed him to be himself and let his guard down.
He’d often say hi to Weezie, asking her about school. It was during one of these calls that she’d mentioned American Girl dolls. She’d seen one at school that a friend had gotten on a trip to New York. Later that week, a doll arrived for her. Well, not only a doll, but a lot of furniture and outfits for the doll too.
Which brought me to now ... my mom in my kitchen, Weezie soaking up every second with her doll, and Cal arriving in the morning.
“Don’t stay in that house with him, Shell. Don’t take my granddaughter and stay there. He’ll never commit. Good you’re working with your dad and Cal is paying up, but he’s not Ricky. There’s more he can do.”
“Cal is doing enough,” I shot back. “You know he and Adam are putting up the money for the syrups. I’m going to pay them back.”
Mom shook her head with a tsk-tsk. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you. Did you hit your head? This man is the father of your baby. You don’t need to pay him back.”
“Enough,” I said, standing to get a drink.
Then I braved the waters without a life preserver. “He’s having a barbecue on Friday at his place, and he wants you and Dad there. He wants it to be a family thing.”
“That man,” Mom muttered, shaking her head. Walking out of the kitchen, she called out, “Come say ’bye to Abuela, Weezie.”
My daughter, the sweet girl she was, did as she was told, and I was left alone with my thoughts.
Landed.
Cal texted me around ten o’clock just as I was finishing with a customer at the coffee shop. I’d started taking over the mid-morning to late-afternoon shift after I quit the restaurant. It let me chat with customers, feel them out on the syrups, and offer them samples.
I can leave in a few to get you.
After I texted him back, I went toward the rear of the shop and got my dad. He’d agreed to work for me today, so I could pick up Cal. Dad was softer than Mom to the idea of Cal in my life in whatever way he wanted to be.