My brows furrow in confusion. He takes my hand and leads me to the door before swinging it open.
“Oh my God,” I gasp. An antique chandelier has been installed in the middle of the room, and as impressive as that is, that’s not what takes my breath away. The walls are painted in horizontal stripes of a cream color and a pale pink. It’s perfect, and exactly what I wanted without even saying anything. “Ryder,” I breathe. “It’s gorgeous. Why? How? This must have taken forever.”
He shrugs. “I know you’ve been having a hard time and I’d hoped this would make you happy. I’m glad I was right.”
I throw my arms around his neck. “Thank you.” My voice muffles against his skin.
He hugs me back—his hands solid and strong against me. “You’re welcome,” he whispers. “I’m happy you like it.”
“Like it?” I repeat, letting him go. “I love it. It’s like you read my mind. This is perfect for what I have in mind for the baby.” My hand falls to my stomach where she kicks. I laugh. “I think she approves.”
He smiles adorably.
My mom finally steps into the room, and she gasps the same way I did. “This is gorgeous.” She turns around, looking at each wall before pointing at the ceiling. “That’s beautiful, where’d you find it?”
“Flea market,” Ryder answers. “I had to fix it up a bit, but it was a good find.”
“You go to flea markets?” I ask, fighting laughter.
He chuckles and ducks his head so that his paint spackled hair falls into his eyes. “Yes,” he says. “You should come sometime.”
“Maybe I will.”
He grins and quickly sobers. “I better go.”
“Oh, right,” I say, shaking my head. “Thank you so much for spending your day doing this.”
“There’s nothing I’d rather do.” He strides toward the door. “Besides, your dad is a pretty cool guy.”
“He didn’t grill you anymore, did he?” I whisper-hiss, opening the door for him.
“Only a little bit.” I groan at his answer. “Don’t worry,” he adds, “I didn’t mind.”
“Thank you,” I tell him again.
He nods. “I’ll see you.” He waves before starting down the steps.
I close the door and find my mom already going to work organizing the kitchen. “We better order pizza,” she says. “I don’t think there will be time to make dinner.” She’s right. It’s already after five, and right now, everything we need is in a box somewhere.
“Yes,” my dad cries from the couch. “Pizza.” He rubs his stomach and licks his lips.
My mom rolls her eyes. “You’re ridiculous. But since we’re busy you can order.”
“What do you want, Kid?” he asks me.
“Sausage and green peppers,” I say.
“You hate sausage.” My mom laughs, pulling a skillet out of a box.
I shrug. “Must be a pregnancy craving.”
She shakes her head. “Better ask for extra sausage then, Dan.”
While my dad places the order and my mom’s busy in the kitchen I decide to unpack the bathroom things. I have almost everything completely in order. My closet needs some work, and my desk needs to be better organized, but at least this place actually looks livable.
I scoot the box into the bathroom and sit on the floor. I organize things into drawers and trash a few things I should’ve gotten rid of before.
By the time the pizza arrives I’m almost done and starving.
My dad pays for the pizza before I can get off the floor.
“Geez, you’re speedy,” I say, making my way over to the small table. It has a stainless steel tabletop with acrylic chairs. I liked the fact that the chairs were clear, considering how small the space is. They seem to just disappear into the background.
“I didn’t want you payin’,” he says, clearing his throat. He sets the box down on the middle of the table.
I gasp. “You got breadsticks too?” He nods. I pat his arm. “Good man.”
He laughs and grabs glasses and fills them with water. As he scoots around my mom, he bends and kisses the side of her forehead. She closes her eyes and smiles. Their love is a special one. It’s the kind of love I had with Ben. It’s rare and beautiful.
I pull out a chair and sit down. They join me a minute later.
“Thanks for being here,” I tell them. “Not just tonight, but through all of this. I’m going to miss you.” Tears fill my eyes.
“We’re not leaving yet, Kid.” My dad chortles. “Save the tears for Friday.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, wiping away my tears. “I can’t help it.”
“I’m glad we could be here for you.” My mom reaches over, pressing her hand to my cheek. I place my hand over hers, holding it there.
“I’m so sorry I was such a bitch to you early on,” I tell her.
She laughs. “Oh, Blaire. I hardly batted an eye at it. You were going through so much of course you were going to be testy, but someone had to push you and I knew it had to be me.”
“Thank you,” I say again. “I love you.” I lean over to hug her.
My dad chuckles.