Page 11 of Falling for the Unexpected

When he gave me a bleary-eyed look, I realized I’d been staring. “In about thirty minutes. Are you sure you don’t want to go?” I finally asked, hoping he had changed his mind since last night. Although, if he didn’t go, I might actually get to enjoy myself instead of waiting for Brad to start an argument with every member of his family.

But, Jim was turning the big 5-0 and I was worried Brad would eventually regret missing his father’s birthday party. It was inconceivable to me that he could so easily pass up spending time with his family, who were nothing short of amazing.

“I told you last night I wasn’t going, so just drop it already,” he snapped, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Well, what should I tell your parents? They know you have the day off.” I was worried I was going to be forced to lie to them and I really didn’t want to do that. Not only did it make me feel bad, but I was also a terrible liar.

“Just tell them I’m not feeling well,” he muttered.

He moved into the living room, plopped down on the couch, and turned on the television. He set his mug down on the coffee table so he could dig into his pocket and pull out his cell phone. For the last month, he was on that damn thing all the time. He gave it more attention than he gave to me and Stella combined. It was just one more thing that was making me revaluate my life—but then I thought about Stella and how our situation could turn bad in an instant. I hated how I talked myself off the ledge, but this wasn’t just about me. It never had been, which is how I got into this mess.

“Fine,” I agreed, even though I hated the idea of being dishonest with his family. I also didn’t need us to get into another fight before I left. When the timer went off, I put on my oven mitts and took the brownies out to cool. I glanced over at Brad. “Can you keep an eye on Stella for a couple minutes while I finish getting ready?”

“I guess,” he responded without moving his eyes away from the TV.

I moved Stella to her playpen so at least she wouldn’t be able to leave the living room. I wasn’t convinced Brad would actually pay attention to her. I desperately wanted him to be an involved father, but she was one-and-a-half years old now and he still didn’t seem interested in taking his fatherly responsibilities seriously. I had thought throughout the pregnancy and birth that he’d bond with her, but he never had. He’d also never really put in any effort. I’d tried to get him to interact with her more, but that seemed to push him further away. I didn’t want to nag so I stopped and hoped he’d come around on his own. But that hadn’t happened yet either. He remained distant and aloof with her, like she wasn’t even there. It hurt that he had no interest in his own daughter. The family I’d wanted—that I had—was in appearance only, and finally accepting that was painful. With Brad mostly gone these last couple weeks, my old fears and insecurities had begun to haunt me. Having seen this same sort of dysfunction all throughout my childhood, I felt that my future and my daughter’s future was barely hanging on by a thread.

I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind and focused on getting ready. Seeing my in-laws always made me happy and I was looking forward to getting over there. I rushed to our bedroom to grab my sandals, made sure my dress wasn’t too wrinkled from holding Stella, and touched up my makeup. I tried to finish quickly, not wanting to upset Brad any more by taking too long. I put up my long hair since the weather forecast for today said it could get a little warm.

I went to the kitchen, put a lid on the brownies, then set all the stuff I’d need to take with me on the kitchen counter. I moved to the living room to pick Stella up, who made it very clear she didn’t want to leave her toys, but I got her to cooperate eventually. I tried to balance a grumpy toddler, a container of brownies, and a diaper bag while Brad continued to sit on the couch flipping through the channels with one hand and texting on his phone with the other. I attempted to open the front door, but it was proving to be impossible since my hands were already full.

“Brad, can you come help me get everything out to the car?” I asked.

I was only a few feet away since our apartment wasn’t very big, but Brad continued on like I hadn’t said anything. Realizing he had no intention of helping me, I sighed loudly, and transferred the diaper bag to the same hand that was already balancing the brownies and turned the knob.

Somehow, we made it out to the car in one trip and I was able to get everything loaded in the trunk, then I buckled up Stella in her car seat.

“Go bye bye?” Stella asked as I started to back out.

“We’re going to Grandma and Grandpa’s house; it’s Grandpa’s birthday today,” I explained, while looking at her in the rearview mirror.

Stella absolutely adored her grandparents and the feeling was definitely mutual. Where Brad was often absent, Jim and Marla Thompson made their granddaughter a priority in their life. To be honest, I don’t know how I would have made it through the first few months of Stella’s life if it hadn’t been for my in-laws. They were such kind people and I thanked my lucky stars every day that they were there for the two of us.

“Unky Twent?” Stella asked, in her cute baby talk.

Trent was another person that I was thankful for. He would often take his niece out for his famous “Trent and Stella Dates,” giving me an occasional break. He was the complete opposite of his brother. He never acted like Stella was an inconvenience or burden and seemed truly happy to spend time with her. The thought of them playing together made me smile.

“Yes, Uncle Trent will be there too, baby,” I told her.

For the rest of the car ride she chattered on and on about all the things she was going to do with Trent. Even though I couldn’t make out everything she said, it sounded like he was going to have a busy day keeping up with his niece.

I arrived at the house about an hour early since I’d promised Marla I would help set everything up for the party. I noticed that Trent’s truck was already parked in the driveway along with a fancy BMW that looked vaguely familiar. The Thompsons’ ranch-style house was more inland but still a short drive to the ocean. I wondered if we’d spend some time in their backyard pool, which Stella loved to play in. I had packed our suits in her diaper bag, just in case.

I walked in through the front door, having been told early on in my relationship with my in-laws that family and friends don’t have to knock at the Thompsons’ door. From stories I’d heard, all of their sons’ friends treated their home as their own. Kids had been constantly been coming and going and Marla had absolutely loved it. Many of their friends still called Marla and Jim ‘mom’ and ‘dad’. I had a hard time calling them that and usually used their first names. I could tell that they wished I would call them mom and dad, but they never pushed.

“Hello?” I called out as I entered the house with Stella on my hip.

The living room was large and inviting but currently empty. There were leather couches in a U-shape around a square glass coffee table, pictures on the wall, and knickknacks from their travels lined the built-in shelves. Walking in I could feel my whole being just… relax. This was how a home was supposed to feel. Stella’s eyes took in everything, even though she knew this place well.

A gust of wind blew the door shut behind me. The loud bang caused me to jump a little.

“Is that my favorite daughter-in-law and granddaughter I hear?” Marla’s sweet voice called as I walked toward the kitchen.

As soon as Stella heard her grandmother she wiggled to free herself from my arms. I set her down and she started running toward her Grandma the moment her feet touched the ground.

“Gramma!” I heard her shout as she went.

As I rounded the corner to the large, open kitchen, I saw Marla, in a navy blue A-line skirt and off-white blouse. Her short, blonde hair framed her pretty and still youthful face. She always looked put together yet still approachable. Her eyes lit up when she spotted me. She had Stella in her arms giving her a giant hug while Jim leaned over and peppered the side of Stella’s face with kisses. Jim was in tan slacks, and a golf shirt, his robust, tall frame almost overpowering Marla’s more petite stature. I took a second, enjoying the three of them together.