Whoa Baby

Chapter 33- Think Again

Whoa Baby

Chapter 33- Think Again

"You must realize, that fear is not real. It is a product of thoughts you create. Do not misunderstand me, danger is very real, but fear is a choice."- After Earth

Every day of my life since I've been back from the beach house has been relatively the same boring thing. Yes, JC changed that after two weeks, but I'm talking about the majority of the time. A whole month of the norm of JC coming in the late mornings and building baby things, chatting away while eating and reading baby names. That's what standard days were now.

Today wasn't starting out to be standard.

Wake up feeling nauseous wasn't usual. Waking up at eight wasn't usual. Having eggs, bacon, toast, and home fries wasn't usual. Three cups of orange juice is never usual; pregnant or not. A door bell ringing at nine o'clock, after everyone had left the house, unusual. JC doesn't usually come until quarter to eleven.

So of course it was a surprise, but more of a surprise when my grandmother stood behind the door waiting. "Good morning. Your mother said you'd be home." She greets, "Although, she said you'd be sleeping, and if you were I was going to wake you up with some breakfast."

"Uh huh." I mutter, holding the door open as she stood outside. It was a bit chilly out, but not so cold that my grandmother needed to wear a feather down coat and mittens. "Well I already had breakfast." I told her.

Her facial expression shifted, less hopeful and content. Instead she looked... determined, serious. Something was definitely on her mind. "I want to discuss something with you. I think you would like to hear me out." She said calmly.

"If I let you in and talk to you will you be civil? Or will that be impossible?" I question, waiting for her to answer before I let her in.

"I think you're going to want to hear that I have to say. It's everything you probably want." She explains, walking more closely to the door.

"A proposition." I call it, narrow my eyes at her as she walks in the house. "Of course." I scoff, closing the door, "You're ashamed of me and you're trying to make this situation better so somehow it make you and this family back to looking like a picture-perfect family again." I rant on.

"Paisley, listen to me dear it's something to consider." Grandma begs, following me into the kitchen.

"Grandma I don't want to hear anything you have to say. My decision is final." I tell her sternly, raising my hand for emphasis.

"What about adoption, honey. One were you could see the baby every day, whenever you like." She baits, standing on one side of the island as I stood behind the other.

"Grandma I already thought about it, I already read all the articles, it just doesn't work that way." I tell her, rolling my eyes as I rummage through the fridge. The best chance I had with having any connection to my son again was the day he turned eighteen. If he wanted to know who I am or if wanted me to be a part of his life.

"It can honey, it can. Olivia Donavan." She said.

I shook my head with a sigh, "What about her gram?" I said, my voice sounding completely uninterested, but she didn't seem to pick it up.

"She's been trying to have children for years. She's gone to three different fertility clinics, done all the tests, even went to Boston to get more opinions. She and her husband have been on the adoption list for a year now. Honey, I've talked to her already-"