Love Me, Lucas Eaton

Chapter Six

  𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱       ~

𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐚

"Mom!" I scream, barely making it out of the car yet.

Lucas drove me back to my mom's house, and he rushed to the passenger side door to help me out of the car. The man claims he needs to help me up the front steps to the door, because I'm so worked up and he doesn't want me falling.

I'm so worked up about the thought of having twins. 

Also, I'm so worked up over what happened with Lucas that I can barely think straight.

A part of me doesn't believe his promise of not going anywhere. For all I know, he may already have another trip planned.

When we get inside I shout, "Mom! I need you!" 

My mom rushes in from the kitchen, and doesn't spare Lucas a glance as she grips my hands and helps me onto the couch. Getting off my feet never felt so good, but I couldn't stop the tears from springing free again today.

"What's wrong, baby? What's going on?" 

"I'm having twins!" I wail loudly not caring about screaming in my mom's ear. "Mom, I don't know what the fuck to do."

While crying, I rub my hands along my belly. My mom's voice doesn't register with my brain, because I'm too busy trying to reassure my babies that I love them both. I spent six months reading and singing to only one baby. Now I need to reevaluate how to go about the pregnancy.

My brain went into overdrive when I started thinking about everything that needs to be done in the next three months. Three months.

These babies are coming soon. Too soon.

"I'm going to need to buy doubles of everything. I'm going to need to pull money out of thin air to pay for two kids! I need to tell everyone on this fucking island to adjust the budget for the baby shower coming up!"

I need to learn how to equally love two babies.

My breakdown doesn't last long, because when I look at my mom, she's not even looking at me. She has her eyes narrowed in Lucas' direction.

He's standing off to the side with his arms across his chest. He looks utterly fine; while I'm over here trying to keep my heart rate at a reasonable speed.

"Why the fuck are you in my house?" Mom shouts

"Mom, stop," I say, rubbing my fingers against my temple. "You're screaming."

"I'm sorry mija. I guess I just want to know why this pendejo is in my house right now."

Lucas probably doesn't understand the Spanish insults being thrown his way.

He must know he's being insulted, because he uncrosses his arms and slouches forward. He's accepting all the insults his way. Maybe because he deserves to be on the receiving end of my mother's Latin-hate.

"Mom. Stop it," I say, pushing off the couch. Well, kind of pushing off. I make it to a slight hover above the couch, then my mom and Lucas come to my rescue and help me to my feet.

Once I'm on my feet, I immediately feel tired. "Lucas is the father of my baby — well, babies — so I'd really appreciate it if you wouldn't call him names."

I move to stand in between Lucas and my mom. One minute she'll be yelling, and the next she could be winding up her fists. I don't want Lucas to be on the receiving end of her wrath. Anything that's happening is between Lucas and I.