Maid To The Billionaire(24)

“I’m stepping up because no matter what part either of the two men played in this, I played mine as well. I’m choosing to have this child, not to punish either of them, but doing that anyways in a way. Jason’s been way more supportive than most men would be in this situation, I think.”



Liz snorted again and I saw Gloria bite back a smile. She stuffed whatever she had left to say on the subject. I was sure it was plenty and I loved her for caring so much. “There,” she said. “Finished. You are so pretty, Victoria. And you know what else?”



“What?”



“You’re smart and funny and resourceful and you have a great heart. Neither of those jerks deserve you if you ask me.” Okay, she didn’t completely stuff it.



“Thank you,” I said. She waved a hand in front of her face.



“Stop it, you’re going to make me cry.”



I laughed, “You started it.”



“I know. I’ll stop. Go look at yourself.”



I went into the bathroom and was shocked by what I saw. My hair is naturally a dark blonde. I’d gone lighter over the years when I was able to afford to have it done. Liz had lightened my roots and put some gold highlights in it. She’d also layered it softly around my face to get rid of the bluntness that I had put into it when I tried to do it myself. It was all even and soft and pretty now. I loved it. Her face appeared in the mirror behind me and I smiled. “I love it! Thank you.”



Liz hugged me and said, “I love you and remember that you’ll never have to put up with a man if you don’t want to. This will always be your home. I will gladly clean out my crafts room today if you want to move back in.”



Still smiling but with tears in my eyes I said, “And you’ll listen to a baby screaming at three a.m. every night in a few months, or try and have a date while he eats mashed peas in his high chair?”



She nodded, “All that and more, gladly… wait… he? You’re having a ‘he’?”



I smiled, “That’s the reason I stopped by,” I said. I turned to the mirror and fluffed my hair and said, “I didn’t know I was going to get the beauty treatment too. I got the ultrasound yesterday. It’s a boy.”



Liz grabbed me and we hugged again. “Yay! I’m so happy, Vicki. I know things are hard right now, but I’m so proud of you for following your heart. Just promise me that you won’t raise him to be a man.”



I laughed again, “I’ll see what I can do,” I told her. It was so nice that someone was happy. As it would turn out, Liz was the only one in my life who felt that way. I was so grateful for her. I was even more so about an hour later as I sat in the booth of a downtown diner across from my mother.



“Your hair is… interesting,” she said as I sat down.



“Hello to you too, mother.” My mom is forty-six. She looks like she’s twenty-five. She has the same blonde hair I do but she has hers professionally lightened and styled. She never misses an appointment, even when I was young and we were struggling financially. She said her looks were her only asset. She tried to make me believe the same thing but I’ve resisted that notion so far. I’d hate to think that all I was good for was to look at. My mother wasn’t growing old graciously either. Everything about her had been lifted, tucked or sculpted. The picture left is beautiful, but you really don’t want to peel the canvas back and see what is underneath.



“Don’t be snippy!” she said. “You just look… motherly with that haircut.”



“Well I guess it’s good that I’m about to be a mother then,” I said.



“It will be, when you can get that cheap bastard of an ex-boss of yours to pay up.”



She was team Jason on that point although there was no love lost there either. “Mom, are you not even a little bit happy that we’re having an addition to the family?” I asked her. I knew she wouldn’t be happy about a baby. She wasn’t the grandmotherly type… or the motherly one.



She frowned and said, “You’re broke and unmarried. I’m too young to be anyone’s grandmother. What is there really to be happy about, Vicki? I’ll be happy if that bastard pays you what he owes you… unlike your father who got away Scott free.”



She was hopeless. My father and the men she danced for and now served had ruined her outlook on family and love a long time ago. We ordered our lunches and when I asked for the club with avocado on sour dough she frowned again. At least I’m assuming the face she kept making was frowning. She’d had so much Botox that it was hard to tell. “What’s wrong now, mother?” I asked.