“It wasn’t like that,” her voice softened, “it was never supposed to be like that.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know you don’t, but maybe it’s time that you did.”

“What are you saying?”

She shrugged, kicking the dirt ground with a worn, dusty sneaker before leveling her gaze back on me. “I heard you were pregnant with twins. Congratulations.”

I fought the urge to laugh at the irony of it all. “That’s rich. Kind regards for a woman who clearly didn’t feel the same way about her babies.”

“I probably deserve that,” she conceded. “But you don’t know all of it.”

It was true that I didn’t, but there was a part of me not that interested in hearing about it anyway. “Ever hear of too little, too late, Rita?”

“It’s never going to be the right time or place.”

“You’re right. Say your piece and get it over with.”

“My mother made me choose between her and your father. There was never any choice. I loved your father with all my heart. So, when I chose him, she cut me off. We would have been fine, but we got pregnant with twins. There was no way we could afford to care for both of you at the same time. I went to my mother for help. She took one look at you and somehow knew you were more like her than me. She made a deal with me. Let her care for you until we got on our feet, and then she would give you back to us.”

“Wait…Grammy made the deal?” My heart squeezed tight, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. “I-I thought you did.”

“No, she made the deal…but I did say yes. I had no choice, but I honestly thought she would keep her end of the agreement.” Rita looked me in the eye with such despair and regret. “When I went back for you, she refused to give you back to me. She didn’t want the rest of us. You were the daughter she always wanted but never had. So, she shut me and her other granddaughter—your sister—out.”

I was already shaking my head. It couldn’t be true. The grandmother who was a mother to me couldn’t have kept me from my own mother…could she? I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I don’t believe you.”

“I understand why you don’t, but it’s true. The woman you knew was a far different person than the woman I knew. I was weak in her eyes. You weren’t.” Rita’s voice cracked. “We never would have agreed to the deal if we had known it would mean losing you. I just hope we haven’t lost you forever.”

I wiped away the tears now streaming down my face. “Why didn’t you fight harder for me?”

“She was too powerful. What could I do? I spent years trying to get her to change her mind and let me at least see you. Instead, she spent her life turning you against me.”

“This is too much. I can’t handle it. I guess you know everything.” I huffed out a breath and crossed my arms over my chest.

“I don’t know everything,” she said quietly, “but I do know a thing or two about carrying twins. I’d like to be a part of your life if you’ll let me. This might be my only chance to be a grandmother.”

I frowned. “What about Tabatha?”

Rita was already shaking her head. “She married young, right out of college, but her husband and daughter died when their house caught fire. They didn’t have a lot, but they were happy. Everything was destroyed. She never moved on and hasn’t been the same since. That’s why she’s so bitter and angry. You’re just her scapegoat, unfortunately.”

“I didn’t know,” I said softly. “When did that happen?”

“Fifteen years ago.” Rita shrugged. “She kept it pretty quiet. Your grandmother didn’t even know she’d married and had a child. Tabatha was hurt and angry at her for never wanting anything to do with her, only you. She didn’t want to share her own daughter, and after the tragedy, she didn’t want your grandmother’s pity.”

I was twenty-five and single then. I remembered having dreams of burning up in a fire. I would wake up sweating, feeling like I couldn’t breathe for months. It took months of therapy to get past that. I had no idea it could be a twin connection. My heart ached over the thought of what Tabatha must have gone through. Was still apparently going through.

“So, she’s all alone now?” I asked quietly.

Rita looked sad as she nodded. “At least she has us.”

I felt my brow pucker. “What about friends?”

“They had friends as a couple, but she avoided them until they gave up and stopped trying. She couldn’t handle any reminders of what she’d lost. Her job is pretty isolating, so it’s hard for her to meet people. She’s an artist, and a talented one at that. An illustrator for children’s books, but she works remotely. Her work has taken off, and she does well for herself now. She lives in a small apartment, and that works for her.”

“Well, I feel bad for her, but I don’t know what you want me to do about it?”

Rita stared at me for a long moment. “Not everyone wants something from you, Tiffany. Maybe we just want to be there for you with nothing in return.”

I shrugged. “Forgive me if I’m having a hard time believing that. People have always wanted something from me for my entire life.”

“Well, maybe it’s time that changed. Just think about it, okay?”

I slowly nodded. “Okay.”

“I’d better get back before your father starts to worry about me.” She walked away before I could tell her no.

For the first time in a long time…I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

Chapter Eight

Ipulled into the three-lane driveway of Chaz’s—and now Zoe’s—enormous Victorian house with the wraparound porch on Hope Lane. It had to be five thousand square feet. Soft almond siding with hunter Hunter green shutters decorated the outside, and the mansion sat on a lot twice the size of any other house on the block. It reminded me of my grandmother’s house before she sold it and moved into a condo on the lake, after I grew up and moved out.

The Andersons had clout.

Looked like the zoning board had made more than a few allowances. It didn’t hurt that his parents were former members of the board, current members of the historical society and town council, and his father had even been mayor years ago. They had retired to Florida but still spent half the year in Mayflower. Zoe had the town wrapped around her finger as their favorite party planner, not to mention she was engaged to their beloved doctor.

Meanwhile, I was still the pregnant harlot with the risqué job who’d said no.

I sighed as I parked my car and headed inside. It looked like Harm and Morti were already here. All the kids were at sleepovers, and Chaz was at the pub with Matt. They had become pretty good friends since he’d gone to Chaz for help in processing the idea of becoming a father and learning what he could do to help.

The kitchen consisted of tons of counter space, tiled backdrop, quartz countertops, and an enormous island with a flattop range built right in. A large black iron wagon wheel hung above it, with cast iron pots and pans dangling. A second oven and microwave were built into the wall beside the cabinets, right next to the wine bar and breakfast nook. There was a formal dining room as well, but we preferred to sit at the island.

“So glad you’re up to girls’ night, Tiff.” Zoe handed me a glass of sparkling water. “I wasn’t sure, with how you’ve been feeling.”

“Nothing can keep me away from your cooking.” I took a big sip of the water as I sat on a barstool.

Glancing around and inhaling the delicious aroma, I tried not to drool over the display before me. She’d gone all out as usual, cooking up a storm. French cuisine this time, my favorite. She had French Onion Soup to start, then Coq au vin, followed by crème brulée.

“How far along are you now?” Harm glanced at my stomach and took a sip of her beer followed by a bite of cheese.

“Ten weeks.” I nibbled on a cracker.

“You’re not even showing yet.” Morti studied me.

“The morning sickness will go away at the end of the first trimester, around twelve weeks. Usually for a first baby you won’t show until around sixteen weeks, but for twins you’ll probably notice a difference at twelve weeks.” Zoe winked.

“Great, only two more weeks until I have to start wearing maternity clothes.” I sighed, so not looking forward to that.