Maybe riding solo really suited me after all. I didn’t feel lonely. I missed Ethan, of course. How could I not? But instead of pining for him, I’d harnessed that energy into getting my life ready for the next phase of my life. It was all about my child. Art had taught me about sacrifice. And motherhood, nurturing a new little soul, would be my best work of art so far. My magnum opus.
“The gravy’s delicious,” I said, helping myself to another slice of beef.
“He’s good for something at least,” Sheridan said, poking at her boyfriend’s ribs jokingly.
He smirked back. They had the strangest relationship. Five years in, and they were still together. Despite Sheridan calling him a weak so-and-so, she loved him. And although she griped about the paucity of sex, she’d admitted that she couldn’t imagine her life without him.
Would treading water in a relationship be enough? The romantic in me baulked at that idea. Love had to be more than just good friends with occasional boring sex.
Pete, a friend of Bret’s and someone who’d flirted with me over the years, joined us for dinner. Sunday roasts had become their regular thing since Bret had taken a cooking course and decided he loved to cook, much to Sheridan’s delight.
“So, how was that penalty shootout?” Bret turned to Pete.
Sheridan rolled her eyes. “No boring football talk.”
Pete smiled at me. “When’s it due?”
“Third week of October, I think.” I wiped my lips with a napkin.
“Do you know the sex?” he asked.
I nodded. I couldn’t say whether I was happy or disappointed to learn I was carrying a boy.
Sheridan, who’d been extremely supportive, had accompanied me to the foetal screening. Much to my delight, the baby looked healthy and was a healthy size.
At her insistence, I’d decided to stay the weekend. Sheridan seemed to like holding my hand. She’d even made me promise that I’d let her watch me give birth. I loved the idea of someone watching over me. I didn’t know what I would have done without her.
“So what will that make him?” Pete asked.
“Star sign?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Maybe Libra or Scorpio, I suppose.”
“You’re into all of that, aren’t you?” He accepted another slice of meat that Bret had just carved.
“When I was younger, I took an interest.”
“What are you, then?” His eyes shined keenly. Pete had always liked me, and even in my big state, he still showed interest, which surprised me. I couldn’t imagine being attractive to anyone while looking the way I did.
“Scorpio,” I replied, hoping he wouldn’t ask me to describe what that meant.
“I don’t even know anything about the stars. I’m a Leo, and apparently, I’m meant to be vain and bossy.” He laughed.
“You are, mate. You’re always staring at yourself in the mirror, and whenever we go camping, he sits back and gives orders.”
“No, I don’t,” he sang.
Sheridan and I laughed.
Life was good. My dream of becoming self-sufficient through music had become a reality. The stars were aligning. All I had to do was stop thinking about Ethan or, more importantly, find a place in my life for him that didn’t involve my heart pounding every time we stood in the same room.
After the men went off to the pub, Sheridan and I sat back on the couch with our legs up, bingeing onVirgin River.
“What a way to end,” Sheridan lamented. “Not knowing who the father is.”
She looked at me, and her scrunched face ironed out into a smirk. “Sound familiar?”