Home > Maybe Matt's Miracle (The Reed Brothers #4)(12)

Maybe Matt's Miracle (The Reed Brothers #4)(12)
Author: Tammy Falkner

“Why don’t you just say what you want to say, Phillip?”

“I never signed on to be a dad, Sky,” he says.

“I didn’t exactly sign on to be a mom,” I remind him.

“Yet you let your father talk you into this harebrained idea.”

“It’s not an idea. The kids don’t have anyone else.” I pull the phone back and stare down at it for a moment. “Are you breaking up with me? Over the kids.”

“I’m giving you time to figure things out,” he says.

“I don’t need time to figure things out.”

He pauses. “I was going to tell you today, but you were busy with your mother.”

“You were going to tell me at the funeral?” I screech. “Is that why you came?” I should have known it wasn’t because he cared about me or my family.

“What are you going to do, Sky?” he finally snaps. “You’re going to raise those children? Those kids who don’t look anything like us? You’re going to parade them around in public? You’re going to take them to the Cape and on vacation and you’re going to be their mom? Why don’t you just hire a nanny, for Christ’s sake? Your father has enough money.”

I get up and start to pace back and forth across the floor. “I can’t f**king believe this,” I say. “I never took you for someone who gives a shit about race. When did you become this guy?”

“I’m the same guy I have always been!” he shouts at me. “You’re the one who has changed. I want someone who can work by my side and play by my side and just be by my side. I don’t want kids between us, particularly if they’re not ours.”

Silence falls again. I stop in front of the dresser to look into the mirror. There’s a weird sense of peace on my face.

“It’s not like we ever have sex anymore, anyway. We can’t seem to find the time.” He sounds like a four-year-old.

It has been a while.

“We’re just not at the same place,” he says.

“We’re not talking about proximity,” I spit back.

“Will you at least consider a nanny?” he asks.

I don’t even need to think about it. I was raised by a constant parade of nannies, and I will not do that to these kids. I don’t have a single person in my life who can sit with me and tell me stories about my childhood because no one was there. “No,” I bite out.

“Why not? This isn’t even your responsibility!” he shouts.

“I may not be their mom, but I’m their aunt. I’m their Aunt Sky, and I’m all they have. They don’t have anyone else, and I know what that feels like. I will not leave them alone. I will be here for them whenever they need me for the rest of my life.”

To tell the truth, I’ve been kind of brooding about my situation because I couldn’t find my footing, but I have it now. It’s solidly beneath me.

“I will teach Seth to drive, I will take Mellie to dance lessons, and Joey will do gymnastics.” Okay, I sound like a lunatic now. “They can do or be whatever they want to be. Because they won’t be alone.” I point my finger at nothing and jab into the air with it. “They will never, ever be alone as long as I’m here. Do you understand me? Never!”

My voice is cracking, and I can’t catch my breath. But I need for him to know how I feel about this. Sometimes I open the door to the girls’ room and just watch them breathe as they sleep. It’s really the only time I’ve been able to get close to them. “I didn’t get to count their fingers and toes when they were born, but I can count them every day when they come home from school. I can be their Aunt Sky, and someday, when I’ve earned their trust and I’m lucky enough for them to love me, maybe, maybe then they’ll want to be my family.”

I want a family. I want those kids.

“Sky, think about what you’re doing,” he says. “You’re emotional. You need to sit down and think this through. Don’t do something you’ll regret. Make a list of the pros and cons if you need to.”

“Pro: they’re amazing.” I start to tick items off on my fingers, even though he can’t see me. “Pro: if they’ll let me love them, I’ll be the happiest woman on the face of the earth. Furthermore, I’m not emotional. I’m perfectly rational.”

He scoffs. “You don’t sound rational.”

I hold up another finger. “Pro: you’ve already dumped me, so now I can tell you that you’re really lousy in bed, Phillip. Awful. You’re selfish. If I never have to see your penis again, I’ll be a happy, happy woman. Giddy, in fact.”

“I’m not bad in bed…”

“You’re selfish. And I almost never get to come, Phillip. You know this.”

“I didn’t,” he mumbles.

“Never.” I grin at myself in the mirror. “My pros are far outweighing my cons. I see orgasms in my future without you, Phillip. Lots of orgasms.”

He hisses at me. “Con: people will look at you funny for the rest of your life when you parade those kids in public. They’ll never see them at yours. They’ll see them as some poor orphans you adopted. Or, even worse, they’ll assume that you are their mom.”

“That’s not a con. It doesn’t bother me that they’re biracial. I love the color of their skin, their eyes, and their hair.” Although I do need to learn how to make those little pom-pom knots for the girls. The texture of their hair is a lot different than mine. “I love it because I love them.”

   
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