MR AND MRS

12.

*Enjoy, it's a long chapter!*

Five weeks since that ultrasound day with Spencer, and Olivia still felt its glow, but a heavy knot sat in her heart.

In her parents’ backyard, where she crashed with Simone, Layla, Patience, and Coop, she tugged at her lavender tank top, snug over her 20-week bump. It was real now, this soft curve under her flowy maxi skirt, proof of the little life inside.

Today was the Crenshaw Community Festival—food, music, and Spencer’s youth football showcase. She wanted to dive into the fun with him, their friends, the whole neighborhood, but lately, she felt like everyone was watching her, judging.

She’d been helping her mom, Laura, and Spencer’s mom, Grace, plan the festival, throwing herself into it to keep busy. Crenshaw Park would be popping off. She glanced at her phone—1 p.m.—and shot Spencer a text.

“Festival’s about to be lit. You at the park?”

He hit back quick.
“Hell yeah, Liv. Got the kids running drills. You where?”

She grinned, typing.
“Leaving the house. Save me a taco, if you can.”

Simone burst out, braids bouncing, yellow sundress catching the sun. “Liv, come on! Layla’s driving, and Patience and Coop are arguing over shotgun. You ready?”

Olivia laughed, tossing her phone in her bag. “Let’s do this.”

They piled into Layla’s SUV, the vibe pure chaos. Patience, rocking a red crop top, was going off about Coop’s playlist, while Coop, in a graphic tee, wasn’t backing down. Olivia leaned back, soaking it in.

At 20 weeks, the baby’s kicks were like little secrets she shared with Spencer, but the world felt too nosy, like her bump was their business. She and Spencer were solid, co-parenting like pros, but those outside eyes? They stung.

Crenshaw Park was alive—tacos, jerk chicken, shaved ice, jazz filling the air, and cheers from the football field. Olivia spotted her parents at a lemonade stand, Laura waving, Billy talking up neighbors. Grace was nearby, setting out her famous peach cobbler.

“Olivia!” Laura pulled her into a hug, eyeing her bump. “Look at you, glowing.”

Olivia smiled, a little forced. “Thanks, Mom. Baby’s vibing with all this.”

Grace came over, her smile all Spencer. “Where’s my boy? Not running those kids into the ground, is he?”

“Out there,” Olivia said, nodding toward Spencer high-fiving his players, GAU jersey popping. “He’s in his zone.”

Layla, Patience, and Coop rolled up, Simone already scoping the food. “Liv, tacos first, yeah?” she asked, arm hooked through Olivia’s.

“No question,” Olivia said, laughing, but the crowd’s energy felt like a tightrope—warm, but too many eyes on her bump.

Jordan and Kia swung by from a dance booth. Jordan, in a white tee, nudged her. “Liv, you’re killing it. Baby’s gonna be a festival champ.”

Kia, in a floral jumpsuit, grinned. “You make this look easy.”

“It ain’t,” Olivia teased, her smile tight. Their love felt good, but it reminded her she was on display.

Spencer jogged over, sweaty, grinning. “Liv, you made it,” he said, pulling her into a soft hug, careful of her bump. “Y’all eating without me?”

“Almost,” she said, eyes sparkling. “Tacos, Spence. You coming?”

“In a minute,” he said, glancing at the field. “Gotta wrap drills. Save me one?”