Page 73 of I Think He Knows

Carter really is an incredible actor. A man of many talents, it seems.

I swallow down my recollections of last night, then lean over and pat Mindy’s arm. “I feel like we’ve done nothing but talk about me lately. How’re you doing? You don’t have to tell me anything, but I noticed that you weren’t drinking last night, and you haven’t had any wine at my place the last couple of times you’ve been over…”

Mindy and Luke have been trying for a baby for awhile now, but it hasn’t been going smoothly for them. It always baffles me that some people (me) can get pregnant after having sex precisely once, where other people can try and try and nothing happens.

I’m hopeful that her not drinking means that there’s some good news, but Mindy shakes her head against the back of her chair. “We weren’t going to say anything yet because of everything going on with you and Carter, but we’ve decided to try IVF. You don’t have to give up alcohol right away, but I’m doing everything I can to help our chances. I’ve started giving myself the shots.” She laughs abruptly. “Well, Luke’s giving me the shots. But he hates hurting me, so he always closes his eyes, which freaks me out to no end.”

My heart goes out to my sister-in-law. I take her hand and squeeze it. “You’re going to make a great mom one day, Min. I know you are.”

“Just like you.” She squeezes back.

“That means a lot,” I tell her. And it does.

Because becoming a mother at seventeen? Not exactly what I had envisioned for my life. Especially after the loss of my own mom and the guidance she provided.

Thanks to her, the first few months with baby Legs weren’t that bad. She kept me sane and stable through all the sleepless nights, and latching difficulties, and constant fear of peeing myself as my pelvic floor (very) slowly recovered. She reassured me that she was proud of me, always. Proud that I’d made her a grandmother, even if it was accidental. She made me believe that I could still achieve the things that would make my daughter proud of me, too.

And then, one day, she was gone. A freak illness took her life way too soon. Allegra was barely six months old.

At first, my grief took the form of numbness. A dulling of my senses as I went through the motions of working with Luke and Liam to organize a funeral, trying to keep up with what the lawyers were saying about our mom’s financial situation (selling our family home was the only way we were able to pay everything off), and thanking countless people I didn’t care about for coming to pay their respects.

And then, it was over. The urn of her ashes was placed in a cemetery, and the well-wishers stopped calling. Luke went back to work and Liam started job and apartment hunting in the area.

That’s when it all became real.

That’s when the nightmares started.

Anxiety and depression hit me like a ton of bricks, to the point where, some days, going outside was hard. Other days, it was impossible. I was at Walmart once, Legs strapped to my body in a carrier, and suddenly the edges of the store became blurry and I started feeling like the walls were closing in.

I set down a basket full of unpaid merchandise, ran to my car, and sat there for forty-five minutes, trying to breathe while Legs shrieked and screamed.

That evening, Carter found me lying in bed, crying my heart out. We’d become close since the night he showed up at my homecoming dance. He’d been there for me as I went through my pregnancy, and I found myself relying on his non-judgmental, smiling presence as my bump grew. We hung out when we could (between his college classes and auditions), and when my mother died, he was the first person I called.

As the crowd of well-wishers subsided, he kept turning up to keep me company.

Sometimes we’d talk. Sometimes cook. We’d often watch movies—comedies, action flicks, sci-fi, horror, but never anything sad or romantic. I’d curl up on the couch under a blanket and Carter would sprawl on the rug next to a cooing, gurgling Legs and her activity gym.

Over those months, he became the closest person to me in the world. And though I still missed my mom terribly, he calmed my anxiety and filled so much of the painful void from her loss. He supported me, believed in me, and helped me be the best person and mom I could be.

He does the same for me today. Calms my anxiety. To the point where being fake engaged to him feels less stressful than the simple act of having dinner with any other man.

Which is a little mind-blowing.

“Do you think you want more kids someday?” Mindy asks, startling me from my thoughts. Then, she says, “With Carter?”

“What?!”

A smirk. “You heard me.”

“We were talking about you and Luke. Not me and Carter.”

“Nah, I wanna be nosy and ask you invasive personal questions.”

“Min, I have no idea if he even wants kids to begin with.”

“‘Course he does. He looks at you like he’s dying to put a baby in you at all times.”

“Mindy!”