MYLA ROSE
“Yup, my appointment’s at ten, Simon,” I huff out, struggling to hold my phone and get dressed. “Sim, hang on. Gotta put you on speaker.”
“Do you want me to come with you? This is the big appointment, right?”
“It sure is. But, no. You don’t have to come with. Cash is.”
“Cash, huh? Y’all serious?”
“I–I love him. So, yeah, it’s pretty serious.”
“Well damn, girl. Look at you all grown up.”
I can’t help the laugh that topples from my lips. “I’ve been grown.”
He responds with a deep chuckle of his own. “You keep telling yourself that, Myles. No matter what, I’ll always see you as that scrawny little freckle-faced girl with knobby knees and braces.”
His words transport me back to when we first met.
I was sitting on Grams’ porch—like I’d been doing every day since Mama dropped me off a week ago, waiting for her to change her mind and come back.
I was staring down at my lap, drawing shapes in the dirt on the bottom step, when a raspy voice called out, “She ain’t coming back. You gotta know that.”
I looked up, only to come eye-to-eye with the most beautiful blue eyes I’d ever seen. Blue like a swimming pool on a hot summer’s day. Far too pretty for a boy, but belonging to a boy all the same. “S–she might,” I told him defiantly. I could tell he was older, but not by too much.
“Naw. She ain’t. Heard your Grams telling my mom. She’s gone.” I burst into tears at his words, realization blanketing me. “Now, don’t cry, girl.”
But I can’t help it. I devolved into a teary, snotty mess. She may not have been a good mother, but she was all I’d ever known.
“C’mon, please don’t cry.” The boy wrapped me tightly in his arms and held me until my tears dried. “You’re better off without her.”
“You think so?” I asked, taking the time to really look at him. He was scrawny, with matted hair and covered with dirt smudges.
“I know so. Now, what’s your name?”
“Myla Rose,” I told him, thankful to have a friend.
We both startled when from beyond the clearing, we heard a booming voice roar, “SIMON, YOU GET YOUR ASS HOME, BOY.”
He jumped up like someone had lit a fire under him. “Gotta go!”
From that day forward, Simon was my protector and I was his escape.
“Simon, I’m as grown as it gets. I pay my own bills, own my business, and I’m about to pop out a baby.” My words aren’t said with venom, and I know he can hear my smile.
“Yeah, yeah. Guess you’re right. Well, I wanna see pictures from the ultrasound, ‘kay? Gotta see with my own eyes that my nephew’s growin’ good.”
“That I can do. Why don’t you see if D wants to meet us for lunch, and I’ll invite the girls?”
“Sounds good. See you later, Myles.”
My fingers fly across my screen as I fire off a quick group text, asking the girls to lunch before tossing my phone in my purse and heading out the door. I’m so beyond ready to check on my little bean that I don’t even wait for their replies. Twenty weeks is the appointment every mom gets crazy-anxious-excited for. There’s something so surreal about seeing your baby on that screen, and this time, we’ll get an in-depth look.
The tech will measure his little bones and give us an estimated weight, she’ll count his fingers and toes, and I’ll get to see his sweet baby face. I’m so damn ready. Not to mention, this is also the last time I’ll see him before his grand arrival in September. And Cash will be there with me, by my side and holding my hand through it all.
Today is gonna be one for the books. I can feel it.
I pull into the parking lot, only to find Cash ready and waiting for me, coffee in hand. This man—gah! “Well, hello, handsome. That for me?” I nod, gesturing toward the coffee.
“Sure is. I read online that caffeine can help the baby be more active during an ultrasound.” Oh. Oh, my heart.
“Well, look at you. All thoughtful.”
“Always for you, darlin’. Now let’s go. I’m ready to lay eyes on my boy.” Seriously, I must have done something awfully right in a past life to have this man here and now.
After jotting my name down on the sign-in sheet, Cash and I take a seat toward the back of the waiting room. We’re both anxious, all drumming fingers and tapping feet. Thankfully, we don’t wait long before my name is called.
The nurse leads us back to the ultrasound room and instructs me the same as last time—on the table, shirt lifted, waistband rolled down. Belinda squirts the warm gel onto my belly and starts expertly shifting the wand around.
“All right, here we go.” She moves the wand, applying pressure. “Ten little fingers. Ten toes.”
The whoosh of my bean’s heartbeat fills the room, and Cash sits up straighter. “Is that—”
“Yes, sir, that’s your baby’s heartbeat. A perfect one hundred and thirty beats per minute.”
“That’s not too fast?” The worry in his voice tugs on my heartstrings, reminding me that I’m keeping secrets from him.
“No, sir, his heartbeat is one hundred percent within a normal and healthy range.” Belinda continues about her measurements, but instead of watching the screen, I’m watching Cash. His cheeks are damp with happy tears.
“All right, Miss Myla, I have some images for you and Dad to take home. Dr. Mills—”
“I’m sorry, Doctor who?” Oh, Jesus. Guess I shoulda told Cash who my doctor is. Not that he’s anything like his wife or his son.
Belinda’s eyes dart between us uncomfortably. “As I was saying, Dr. Mills isn’t quite ready, so y’all can head back out to the waiting room. A nurse will call you.”
I grab Cash by the hand, tugging him along behind me, seating us as far away from other people as possible in the small space.
“Your doctor’s related to Taylor how, exactly?”
“Don’t get mad, okay?” His mouth is tight, but he nods. “Dr. Mills is his dad.”
“His dad? You have to be kidding me, Myla. Really?”
“But he’s so different from Kathy and Taylor, I swear it, Cash. I think he might love this baby too. I mean, he’s never outright said that. He’s never been anything but professional, but I just know it.” Reaching for his hand, I take a trembling breath. “I promise, babe, I wouldn’t come here otherwise. Trust me?” Those two little words almost make me puke, because why should he trust me? I’m a liar. He just doesn’t know it.
“I know. Fuck, I know. Just don’t like it. Can I come to the rest of your appointments?”
“Sure, if it’ll make you feel better.”
“It will. It so will.” His features return to normal, and he relaxes back into his chair. His easy trust in me has me feeling lower than the floor.
Fifteen minutes later, the nurse calls my name again, and we head back with her. “Sir, you can head on to the exam room, and as soon as your wife finishes with the nurse, she’ll join you.”
I’m about to correct her, but Cash just smiles and thanks her.
Five minutes later, I’m joining him in the exam room, and shortly after that, Dr. Mills is knocking on the door.
“Come on in.” He enters the room, seating himself on the swivel stool in front of his computer.
“Not alone today, I see, Ms. McGraw.”
“No sir, this is Cash Carson.”
His eyes widen at the name, and a barely-there smile graces his lips. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Carson. Glad to see someone’s looking after these two.” He clicks around my file for several minutes before standing. “Go on and lie back, and we’ll listen to little man’s heartbeat and double-check how he’s measuring.”
I follow his instructions, and he works in silence. Though it’s not an awkward silence like you’d expect, just a calm kind of quiet. “All right, Ms. McGraw, you’re measuring right on time. The girls at the desk will get your next appointment set up. Have a nice afternoon, and it was very nice meeting you, Mr. Carson.” And just like that, he’s out the door and on to his next patient.
“Well, he’s . . .” Cash pauses, searching for the words. “Not what I expected.”
“Told you so, babe. Now, wanna meet everyone for lunch?”
“Sure thing, darlin’.” We walk hand-in-hand out to the parking lot. “I’ll follow you?”
“Sounds good.” I drop a quick kiss to his cheek before hopping into Bertha.
I guide the Land Cruiser to stop right outside Dilly’s, a cute little lunch spot about a block from the salon. Cash pulls his truck into the spot behind mine before coming over to open my door for me.
“You ate here before?” he asks, helping me out of Bertha.
“A time or two. They’re so close, but I always forget they’re here. But the bean isn’t feeling Dream Beans, and this is close enough for the girls to join. OH! You haven’t met Magnolia. I hope she comes. Warning though, babe—she’s shy. Like super shy.”
“Well, we’re at no risk for me scaring her away. Azalea though . . .” he trails off, knowing full and well that I’m catching his drift. Girl’s a freight train gone off the tracks some days. Others, she’s the Southern belle her mama raised her to be. The fun thing is that you never know which you’ll get.
It seems we’re the first to arrive, and since I’m not sure on how many are joining us, the hostess seats us at a large table in the back. Slowly but surely, our group starts to trickle in. First Drake, then Azalea.
“Hey, AzzyJo. Is Magnolia coming?” I ask her as she takes the seat next to me.
“Sure is,” she tells me before turning to face Drake. “So you sure as shit had best be on your best behavior.”
Drake holds his hands up in front of him. “Damn, Little Bit. Ain’t been here five minutes and you’re startin’ in on me.”
Azalea sighs loudly. “I mean it. She’s . . . fragile. So be nice, and calm, and quiet. You know, all the things you aren’t?”
“You wouldn’t like me if I was all those things, Bit.”
“I hardly like you now.”
“Not what you said last—”
I can feel Azalea kick him under the table as she yells, “Can you just fucking agree to be nice?”
“Yeah, sure thing, Az,” Drake says, his eyebrows drawn tight.
“Is Seraphine coming with Magnolia?” I ask, attempting to slice through their tension, because damn, it’s thick.
“No, her dad’s nurse called as we were leaving. I’m finished with my clients, so we just shut down the salon. I made her swear she’d call if she needed us.”
I don’t like that, not one bit. That girl needs to realize that asking for help doesn’t make her weak, especially when she has so many people who love and want to help her.
A few moments later, the door chimes and Magnolia walks in. Her head is down and her shoulders are hunched in, as if she’s trying to make herself as small as possible. Briefly, she lifts her eyes to scan the restaurant before beelining for our table.
As she draws near, I realize she has tears in her eyes. “Mags?” I use the nickname without thinking about it. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, y–yeah, sure. I . . . b–backed into someone trying to park. I’m not the best driver, still fairly n–new.” She looks down, embarrassed by her admission.
“Oh, well, that’s no big deal, hun. Not to mention, that’s what insurance is for.”
“Y–yeah. You’re r–right. H–he was just so m–mad,” she laments, taking the seat next to Azalea. Over the course of the past week, Azalea, Seraphine, and I quickly realized Magnolia gets uncomfortable around men, so we try to always be present as a buffer.
Even now, Azalea quietly asks her to switch seats, ensuring that Mags is girl-locked on both sides. She’s just gotten herself situated at her new seat when the door chimes again.
This time it’s Simon, and he’s fuming, muttering, and mumbling to himself as he heads our way. When he notices Magnolia, though, he comes to a dead stop. After forcing several deep breaths, he schools his features into what I call his calm mask.
“Sweetheart, you okay?” It takes me a moment to realize he’s addressing Mags.
She nods, refusing to make eye contact. “You sure?” She nods again. “Good. I gave that jackass the what-for and sent him on down the road. Acting like a little paint swap is the end of the goddamn world. I swear, some fucking people.”
Once we’re all here, introductions are made, and Simon relays to us the altercation outside. Lunch is amazing, and the company is even better. By the time our checks arrive, we’re all laughing, smiling, and passing around the pictures from my ultrasound.
All-in-all, today has been nothing short of magical. And I just know I’m the luckiest girl around because I have an entire lifetime of this on my horizon.