Reality Check
I was pregnant.
My ankles were swollen, my boobs were all veiny, and my stomach closely resembled an oversized beachball.
And there were four kids at my ankles.
One was a baby less than a year old who was covered in their own poop, two were toddlers who were both crying for my attention, and the fourth was—
Maya.
My breathing quickened as I surveyed my surroundings. It was a kitchen I didn’t recognize. The backyard was large but open, and there were three dogs running around. Two Labradors and a Shih Tzu that looked a lot like Dolly.
Dolly.
Maya.
Holy shit.
Where the hell was Mason?
Why wasn’t he in this dream?
A dream.
Holy shit, this was a dream.
All I had to do was wake up, and all these little crotch demons would disappear.
Wake up, wake up, wake up. Wake up, Imogen!
I gasped into the darkness. A thin sheen of sweat covered my brow and the back of my neck, and I was glad I’d stolen one of Maya’s hair ties earlier before bed.
Maya.
I glanced to my side. The light that eked its way in through the cracks in the curtains illuminated Mason’s face, and I stared at him for a moment.
He was so fucking handsome. It was almost painful to look at him—it was unfair for someone to look the way he did and be so smart and just such a good fucking person.
And a good dad.
A good dad.
God.
I pushed the covers off me and quietly got out of bed. My feet padded silently against the wood floor as I made my way into the bathroom, shut the door, and turned on the light.
Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, one thing became obvious: I looked like hell.
I used the baby wipes from the shelf to remove my makeup and wipe my face. After washing it with cold water, I retied my hair into a knot on the top of my head and used the toilet.
Then went back to the mirror.
What the hell was that dream all about?
Was it because I’d found the baby doll under my pillow? Had that triggered some kind of reminder that Mason wasn’t the same guy I’d fallen for in college?
Was I holding onto a person who didn’t exist anymore?
Was I overthinking everything here?
Or was it just me being a pain in the ass?
I was prone to that, after all.
“Ugh,” I groaned quietly, running the tap once more to splash my face with cold water. The chill of it against my burning cheeks jolted me out of the post-dream haze I was in.
I didn’t have time to think about what that dream meant right now. I needed to sleep, and if I let my brain run away with some theories, I’d never get back to sleep.
I dried my face with the towel hanging on the ring next to the sink and shut off the light, then headed back into the bedroom.
Mason turned on the lamp on the nightstand and looked at me through sleepy eyes. “You okay?”
“I just needed the bathroom,” I lied, slipping back into the bed.
He made a noise that could have been either an argument or an agreement, then switched off the light and rolled over to face me. Wrapping one strong arm around my body, he tugged my back against his chest and bent his legs so every part of us was touching.
Warmth quickly spread through my body, and I took a deep breath as I relaxed into him.
I’d done nothing but overthink ever since I’d seen him step out of the moving van.
And four a.m. was not the time for philosophical conversations, because he was already asleep behind me.
So instead of allowing my brain to run away with all sorts of things that would just freak me out and keep me awake, I turned my thoughts to yarn and threads and paints and brushes…
***
A big sign that read ‘CLOSED FOR STOCK TAKING’ was on the door of Art by Numbers, and I’d bribed Hannah into helping me with the promise of lunch.
And pay.
She didn’t do anything for free, even for family.
“Isaac said he had Mason’s puppy in,” Hannah said, counting a box full of yarn. “Is she better?”
“I think so. He called Mason this morning and said he wants to keep her until tonight, but she should be fine to go home.” I put a box back up on the shelf and pulled down another one. “And he’s getting his car back this afternoon so I don’t need to take him.”
“And how do you know all this, hmm?”
“I assumed you knew I knew,” I replied, clearing my throat. “Since you asked.”
“Grandma said you didn’t go home last night.”
“That gossipy old—” I stopped and took a deep breath. “I did not go home last night,” I confirmed.
Lying to her was pointless. Grandma would have called her at six a.m. to tell her I was a hussy who’d stayed out all night.
“She said you’re a hussy who stayed out all night.”
See?
“Such a hussy that she freakin’ cheered me on from the kitchen window,” I muttered. “Fine. I know what you’re looking for: I slept with Mason last night.”
She squealed and clapped her hands.
“You’re not a seal, Hannah. Don’t do that.”
She laughed and hugged her notebook to her chest. “Tell me more, tell me more. How did it happen?”
“Kind of by accident,” I mused.
“By accident? Immy, people don’t have sex by accident. Unless you were both naked on a Slip’N’Slide and he just happened to have an erection that ended up in the right place.”
I rolled my eyes and grabbed another box. “No Slip’N’Slides were harmed in the making of my orgasm. After we took Dolly to Isaac—who is hot as hell, by the way—we grabbed some pizza because neither of us had eaten. I kind of threw a bit of a hissy fit and tried to leave, but then he made me listen and admitted that seeing me again had stirred up old feelings.”
Hannah raised her eyebrows. “And you’d know all about that.”
I ignored her. “He said if I didn’t feel anything, then I needed to walk out there and then, and it was whatever, and we’d just be neighbors.”
“And you didn’t leave?”
“Oh no, I left.”
“Imogen!”
“Hold your horses, hold your horses. I went back. Obviously.”
“Right. Of course. So how did Grandma end up cheering you on?”
I sighed. “He kissed me on the doorstep. She saw. He told her I wouldn’t be home last night.”
She choked on a mouthful of water. “He said what?”
“Yeah. So. That’s how I couldn’t go home last night. Luckily, I managed to get in and out of the house before she could ask too many questions.”
“Because there will be questions,” she finished. “What happens now?”
Shrugging, I opened a box. “I honestly don’t know. I had a weird dream last night where I was pregnant, and there were, like, babies everywhere, and they were all mine. Maya was there, too. I woke up in the middle of the night, but I didn’t want to mention it to Mason in case it was just me being weird.”
“That was you being weird.” Hannah counted out four balls of navy yarn and jotted down the serial number. “But it makes sense. Dreams are from our subconscious, right? I read this book on it a while ago.”