It was the best Christmas I’d ever had, even counting the ones before my father died. Chase put his beautiful heart into everything he did, which was considerable since I was always tired. The doctor reminded me this would pass by the end of the first trimester. I was counting the days.

In the meantime, I had to finally admit working two jobs was getting to be too difficult. While living with Chase made parenting easier, splitting my free time between him and Izzy and still having family time for the three of us was damn near impossible. I’d miss it, but I gave my two weeks’ notice at Blondie’s. New Year’s Eve would be my last day.

I don’t think I could have given Chase a better Christmas present. He’d been hinting around that I should quit ever since I agreed to move in with him after we learned I was pregnant. He wanted to take care of his family, he said—me, Izzy, and eventually the new baby. And while I was used to carrying my own load, knowing there was someone who wanted to be there for me night and day, every day, was pretty fucking fantastic.

I also gave him a watch for Christmas, which he said he loved. But I’m pretty sure quitting Blondie’s meant a lot more.

Chase gave me an antique silver heart on a chain with a tiny silver key—his heart and the key to it, he said. I loved it, and I hadn’t taken it off since he fastened it around my neck Christmas morning.

As for Izzy, he was thoroughly spoiling her. It worried me at bit, at first, but when her own father’s postdated check didn’t arrive until Christmas Eve, I didn’t mind as much. She was six. Was I supposed to wrap the stupid check and stick it under the tree? The least he could’ve done was send it early enough that I could buy presents and put them under the tree and say they were from him.

So while Christmas itself was the best and New Year’s Eve would be my farewell to bartending, we had one other holiday event sandwiched in between: a visit to Chase’s mother.

I couldn’t say I was looking forward to it, but Chase insisted she’d invited us—all of us. It was obvious how she felt about me, and I had assumed she would have invited Chase to visit on his own.

I’d offered to invite her to our place for Christmas, but he’d told me she would be spending the holiday with her sister.

To be honest, I’d been relieved. She radiated such negative energy, and I didn’t want to have to endure that on our first Christmas together. It didn’t often get that kind of a reading on someone, which made me think it was especially strong where Mrs. Holgate was concerned.

“Are we there yet?” Izzy moaned from the back seat. Other than a handful of trips to visit Jeff’s parents, Izzy’s car rides averaged about fifteen minutes, if that. We never really had anywhere to go before.

“Almost, pumpkin.” Chase smiled at her in the rearview mirror.

I swiveled in my seat to face her. “You’re going to be on your best behavior, right, Iz?”

“Yes, I told you already,” she said dramatically.

I bit my lip to keep from laughing. She was six going on sixty.

“Yeah, Mommy,” Chase said. “I’m pretty sure I heard her tell you that the last twenty times you reminded her.” He wrapped a warm hand around mine and squeezed. “It’s going to be fine. What’re you so worried about?”

Your mother thinks I’m not right for you, I dress like a streetwalker, and the only thing I’m good for is to have fun before you move on to a real relationship.

“Nothing,” I lied. “I’m just not sure I made a very good first impression, and I want her to like me. To like us.”

“Nonsense,” he lied right back to me. “Last time was great.”

The familiar buzz was there as he held my hand, but there was something else, something almost painful. It passed too quickly to register. He let go of my hand, put on the turn signal, and slowed to a stop in front of a roomy brick ranch.

“We’re here, Izzy. This is where I grew up.”

Her seat belt was off before he’d parked the car. She knew she wasn’t supposed to do that, and normally I would’ve scolded her, but I didn’t want to risk walking into Mrs. Holgate’s house with a cranky six-year-old.

“Will your daddy be here?” Izzy asked.

“Izzy . . .”

Chase’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, but when he answered, his voice remained gentle. “No. My father moved out a long time ago.”

While Chase went around to grab the gifts for his mother, I climbed out of the truck and opened the back door to get Izzy. As I helped her down, I whispered against her ear.

“I know it’s hard and you want to know all about Chase and his family, but maybe today isn’t the day to ask those questions. Let’s just have a nice visit and make sure to say all our pleases and thank-yous. Can you do that for me? Please?”

She nodded solemnly. I was asking too much from a child her age, which showed how desperate I was for Mrs. Holgate’s approval.

He opened the door without knocking and waited for me to step inside first. Such a gentleman, damn him. I’d have much rather followed him—or better yet, waited in the truck until it was time to leave.

All I could see was beige carpeting, so I wiped my feet like a madwoman, fearful of tracking one speck of dirt on the rug, and then I made sure Izzy did the same.

“Chase!” Mrs. Holgate bustled down the hall toward her son, arms out, ready to grasp him in a hug. I wondered how weird it would be to hug her, but I didn’t get the opportunity. She took the bag of gifts from Chase and held out her hand, waiting for his jacket. At least she smiled at me.

“Nice to see you again, Rain. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Holgate. Thank you for having us—Izzy and me,” I added quickly, so she wouldn’t point out that her son was family and welcome in his own home any time, or something along that line.

“It’s nice to see you too, Isabel.”

“Isolde, Mom, not Isabel,” Chase said.

I flapped my hand. “Oh, it doesn’t matter. Isabel. Isolde. Same difference.”

Chase looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “No, it’s not. Her name isn’t Isabel.”

I looked at his mother and shook my head. “Really, you can call her Isabel.”

Of course my daughter jumped in. “But that’s not my name.”

Chase rested his hand on the small of my back, and I focused on the warm vibration, letting it flow from his hand, grounding me. I tried to smile. “Actually, we call her Izzy.”

His mother looked at me like I was a bit off my nut.

“Yes, well.”

She draped Chase’s jacket over a chair in the foyer and motioned for us to do the same. “Let me just put these under the tree. I have some appetizers we can nosh on while we open gifts.”

Pictures of Chase and a boy I assumed was Dylan, lined the walls of the foyer. I spotted what must’ve been Chase’s senior picture. His hair was just a little shorter than it was now and slightly blonder, like he’d spent the summer outdoors. His features weren’t quite as chiseled, but he had the same strong jawline and full bottom lip. I noted with some satisfaction that Chase was by far the better-looking brother. Not that there was anything wrong with Dylan, other than his taste in women.

Dylan and Lorraine’s wedding picture hung on the opposite wall. There appeared to be an equal number of framed photographs of both Chase and Dylan, but while many of Dylan’s included Lorraine, an equal number of Chase’s included Jennifer. Prom photos from two different years hung side by side. There were a few vacation shots from the beach, probably Cape May, and I couldn’t help but feel wildly jealous. Another photo—fuck me—looked to be their engagement photo.

I dragged my eyes back to Chase’s senior picture.

“So that’s you, huh?”

He followed my finger and groaned. “God, yeah. Don’t laugh.”

“Are you kidding? You were so cute.” I leaned closer. “I would’ve totally gone all the way with you in high school.”

He ran his hand along the back of my neck and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You would’ve made all my high school dreams come true, and then I would’ve kicked anyone else’s ass if they even thought about getting near you.”

“I would’ve liked that.”

His mother’s voice interrupted our musings on an imagined past. “Chase, are you coming? I think Isolde would like to open her gifts.”

With his hand on the small of my back, Chase guided me to the living room sofa, where he sat down beside me. I’d begun feeling somewhat calmer, but the smell coming from the kitchen hit me in the pit of my stomach. Whatever was cooking had a disagreeably sweet, sickly aroma. I’d carried my bag into the living room with me, thank god, and dug around until I found a peppermint. I popped it into my mouth.

“You okay?” Chase asked, looking concerned.

I willed the saliva gathering at the back of my mouth to stand down. “Uh-huh. I think the ride unsettled my stomach a bit.”

Mrs. Holgate picked up a cut-glass plate holding a shivering pink mold of some sort surrounded with crackers and held it in front of me. “Shrimp dip?”

I loved shrimp, but the thought of it embedded in cream cheese, mayonnaise, and tomato soup was more than I could handle at the moment. Not to mention the addition of the peppermint candy.

“You know, I think I’ll just have a cracker for now.” We’d been here less than ten minutes, and already I’d insulted her. “But it looks delicious.”

I swiped two crackers off the tray and nibbled one slowly, praying it would calm the turbulence building in my gut.

“Isolde?” She held the plate in front of Izzy.

“Yuck!”

God help me.

“Iz, we don’t say yuck.”

Izzy looked up at Mrs. Holgate apologetically. “No thank you, please.”

Chase’s mother laughed. “Very good. Chase, at least I know you love shrimp dip.” She set it down on the coffee table in front of him.

He picked up the gingerbread man dip spreader and scooped so much shrimp dip onto his cracker that I was surprised it didn’t break. He must really love that stuff.

“I have some cheese, if you and your daughter would prefer,” Mrs. Holgate said. “I could cut some up for you.”

“That’s not necessary. We’re fine. We wouldn’t want to ruin our dinner.”

“I like cheese,” Izzy insisted.

“I know, sweetie, but—”

Mrs. Holgate stood. “I’ll get her a few pieces. It’s no trouble.” Looking down at Izzy, she asked, “Would you like to help me?”

Izzy scrambled to her feet. “Yes please, thank you.”

As soon as they left the room, I slumped against Chase. “I’m sorry. I eat practically anything, but this pregnancy has my taste buds all fucked up. I thought I was finished with the nausea by now, but today of all days, it’s back with a vengeance.” I popped the second cracker into my mouth. “And what is that awful smell?”

“Smell? Like a bad smell?”

It seemed to be getting stronger. I nodded.

He shrugged. “The only thing I smell is roast leg of lamb. It’s my mother’s specialty, which just proves you’re wrong and that she does like you.”

My mouth filled with saliva, and I could have sworn Mrs. Holgate’s couch was rocking like a small boat on a stormy sea.

“Bathroom?” was all I could manage to get out.

Chase helped me to my feet. “Through the foyer, down the hall, turn, and it’s the last door on the right.”

I sprinted from the room, narrowly missing Izzy carrying a small plate with sliced cheese and followed by Chase’s mother. I prayed the bathroom wasn’t as far away as it sounded.

The door slammed behind me and I dropped to my knees, careful not to puke all over the plush salmon-colored toilet lid cover, which reminded me way too much of the shrimp dip. The chocolate chip pancakes Chase had made for breakfast escaped in a rush. I sat on the floor, waiting for another wave to pass before I was ready to rinse my mouth and return. We’d planned to tell his mother about the pregnancy after dinner, but at this rate, it was going to happen sooner rather than later.

I was leaning against the sink when there was a light tap on the door.

“Babe?”

I opened the door to find Chase wearing a worried expression.

“You okay?”

“Not really. I hate lamb, even the smell of it, and that’s when I’m not pregnant. And it appears this baby isn’t a fan of lamb or the shrimp dip.”

“Who can blame it? I hate that stuff.” He bent over the sink and rinsed his mouth out.

“You’re gobbling it down like you haven’t eaten in weeks.”

“My brother likes it. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, especially with you and Izzy not eating it, so I figured I’d take the bullet.”

I started to laugh. “Do you at least like lamb?” Just talking about it made my empty stomach do a flip.

“I do.” He brushed a damp strand of hair off my cheek. “I think it’s best if we don’t wait until after dinner. This way you’ll have an excuse not to eat it, okay?”

Although the thought of telling Chase’s mother that her darling son was having a baby with the girl meant just for fun didn’t calm me in any way, having to eat lamb to try to make nice was far worse.

I slipped my hand into his. “Yeah, we don’t have a choice. But you get to do all the talking.”