Christmas with You (Summer #6)

  Copyright © 2017 Amy Sparling

  All rights reserved.

  First Edition December 2017

  AISN: B0765L2YQL

  ISBN-13: 978-1977984661

  ISBN-10: 1977984665

  Cover design by Amy Sparling

  Cover image from BigStockPhoto

  Typography from Canva

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems -except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews-without permission in writing from the author at admin@amysparling.com.

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 1

  As soon as I walk through the front door of my house, I let out a sigh of relief. It doesn’t matter that I’ve done this four times already, and it also doesn’t matter that I knew the material well and hopefully scored all A’s. There’s still this huge weight that lifts off my shoulders when I come home from finals day at the end of the semester.

  This semester was particularly rough because I only took two classes last semester and then I had the whole summer off, which I spent working at C&C. This semester, I took four classes and they were all harder than any college class I’ve taken before. But now they are over and I take another deep breath, resisting the urge to pump my fist in the air like a dork. It’s done. It’s over. My Christmas vacation begins now.

  The house is so lonely since my parents left this morning. Everything feels big and empty as I grab a soda and then make my way to my bedroom. A few weeks ago when Park’s parents invited us to spend Christmas with them in Sacramento, California, I’d been nervous, excited, and scared. My parents, upon hearing the news, did not act how I expected. I thought I’d get a guilt trip, or that they’d beg us to come home right after Christmas to celebrate with them. I thought they might even ask me not to go because they couldn’t bear the idea of not spending Christmas with their only daughter.

  Well, I was wrong. On all accounts.

  The moment I set them both down in the living room and broke the news that I wanted to travel to California with Park for the holiday, my parents turned to each other and shared a secretive smile like some kind of special language between them. Then they confessed that now that I’m “all grown up,” as they put it, they’ve been wanting to spend the winter in Jamaica. At a resort, doing gross romantic married people stuff. I mean, it’s not gross if it was Park and me, but when I think of my parents still being totally in love after all these years and I picture them on a romantic secluded beautiful beach on Jamaica – yeah, I’d rather not.

  They left this morning for their two week trip, and it’s ironic that I already miss them, because all I’ve been thinking about lately is moving out into my own place. Well, if I’m being honest, what I’m thinking about the most is the wonderful idea that Park would invite me to live with him in his ridiculously huge house that has plenty of room for someone else. But since he hasn’t even hinted toward that yet, I want my own apartment. My own independence.

  In my room, I check my Etsy sales and pack up the three paintings that sold while I was taking my final exams. Then I regrettably set my shop on vacation mode so no orders can come in while I’m not home. It’s a bummer, because I’ve been selling so many paintings lately that it’s kind of awesome. I think most of it was the Christmas rush though, so hopefully I don’t miss too many sales while I’m away for a week with Park.

  I check my bank account and daydream about the idea of moving out. I have enough money for a deposit and first month’s rent. I also have money to buy some cheap furniture, and on most months, I make enough money between working at C&C part time and selling my paintings to make sure I could afford rent and all the bills that go with living alone. But sometimes during the slow months, I’d be barely getting by. With a sigh, I close out my bank account website. I know I should listen to Bayleigh, who thinks I should save all my money as long as possible because it’s always good to have a savings account. She doesn’t think I should waste money on rent when, in her words, Park will propose any day now!

  Psh... I’ll believe it when I see it.

  Maybe if this trip goes well, it’ll inspire matrimonial ideas in Park’s mind. For all I know, he wants me to meet his parents now to make sure they approve of me before he does pop the question. I get excited just thinking about it, but now I’m even more nervous about the trip. We have to head to the airport at five in the morning tomorrow.

  I get out my suitcase from the closet and toss it on my bed, then I try to pick my most impressive outfits to bring with me. I need clothes that make me look classy and youthful, and like the perfect wife material. If his parents have any reservation about how their son packed up his life in California and moved to Texas to be with his girlfriend, I need to squash them. I need to make them love me.

  Even though it’s December, I know the weather on the west coast is nicer than it is here, so I pack accordingly. After I’m satisfied with my outfits, I pack up my toothbrush and toothpaste and makeup. As I’m digging through my bathroom cabinets, I see the new box of tampons I bought a while ago. Shit.

  Is my horrible monthly annoyance going to come while I’m at Park’s parent’s house? Ugh. Nothing makes meeting parents worse than a huge case of PMS. I get my phone and open it up to the calendar app where I track my periods.

  All the air rushes out of my lungs. No. This doesn’t make sense. Have I really been so busy with school and work that I never noticed the fact that I am now officially two weeks late?

  My heart pounds so hard I can hear it in my ears. I look into the bathroom mirror and realize that I look like someone who’s just seen a ghost.

  How is it possible that I am both horrified...and... excited?

  I mean... this is totally crazy, but it could be a good thing. Right?

  All I know for sure is that I am in desperate need of a pregnancy test.

  Chapter 2

  I’m so nervous my hands are shaking on the steering wheel. I want to call Bayleigh, but I make myself keep this news private until I know for sure. But as I make the thirty minute drive to the next town over, I can’t stop thinking about it. What if I’m pregnant?

  What if Park and I are going to have a baby?

  I choose to shop at the drugstore half an hour away just to limit my chances of being seen by anyone. Buying condoms are embarrassing and all, but I can’t imagine the awkwardness of buying a pregnancy test. I sit in my car for a full ten minutes in the parking lot until I get the courage to get out. I think about how I’ll tell Park the news.

  Will it be good news? Will he be happy or freaked? I know he loves me, so I hope he’ll be happy. We talk about our pretend future children all the time. Park says he’ll have to teach our kid how to ride a dirt bike, or he’ll make fun of the way I make my peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and say I better not teach that method to our future kids.

  He wants kids.

  This will be okay. It’ll be more than okay—it’ll be awesome.

  I am practically skipping in the store now as I think of all that’s to come. A little baby that’s all mine and Park’s. We’d totally move in together if we had a kid. He’d be just as supportive as his best friend Jace was when Bayleigh had a baby. Our kids will be able to grow up together, and even though Jett is two years older, I’m sure they’ll still be best friends.

  This is going to be so awesome.

  I wish there was just one type of pregnancy test, because that would make this entire ordeal a lot easier. But there’s totally not just one. There’s dozens. I stand in front of them trying to skim the packages to read all the benefits of each. There’s cheap ones that look crappy, and expensive ones that come with monitors to check when you’re most fertile. I just want a basic pregnancy test.

  I finally grab a pink box that comes with two kits and make my way to the register. I consider buying random crap I don’t need so I can mix the embarrassing thing with the other stuff but I’m sure cashiers are smarter than that. They’ll notice it anyway. I know I shouldn’t care what some stranger thinks, but as soon as I see who is working the only register, my stomach tightens. It’s a teenage guy. Ugh, why couldn’t it have been a nice old lady?

  I straighten my shoulders and look bored, like this isn’t at all a big deal, and I slap my pregnancy test down on the counter, then look through my wallet for my debit card.

  “Eight thirty-two,” the guys says, tossing my pink box into a plastic shopping bag.

  To my relief, he doesn’t seem to care one bit about what I just bought. I swipe my card, get my receipt, and rush back out to my car.

  I’m so excited about the idea of having a child with Park that I’m half tempted to pee on the side of the road just to get it over with. But I’m classy, just like my wardrobe choices in my suitcase back at home suggest, so I force myself to be patient on my dri
ve back.

  But all I’m thinking about are babies.

  Their tiny hands and feet. The cute clothes. The smell of baby powder. I’ve been right there with my best friend while she raises her baby for the last two years, and it’s been such a sweet journey. She can help me out, too. She can give me advice on the best toys and car seats. She’s going to be so excited when I tell her. I hope Park will be, too.

  In the back of my mind, I’m a little nervous that maybe he’ll be upset. But I try to push those thoughts away and count on our love and our strong relationship to get us through this.

  When I’m finally at home, I burst through the door, and rush to the bathroom. I am out of my mind with happiness. I can’t believe just a few hours ago I was stressing over college exams. Now I’m going to be a mother.

  I pee on the stick and then hang out in the bathroom, watching as the little face lights up with one line. The instructions say that the first line shows that the test is operating properly. If a second line shows up, you’re pregnant.

  I watch for that second line. I know it takes up to three minutes, and these are the longest three minutes of my life.

  I stare until my vision blurs, and then after what feels like ages, I check the time. It’s been eight minutes.

  This stupid thing must be broken. I’m two weeks late – what else could it mean?

  I throw it in the trash and then head into the kitchen and down a bottle of water. As soon as I can pee again, I open the second test and then resume waiting.

  I set my phone alarm for five minutes. And I watch. When the alarm goes off, there is no second pink line.

  Tears fall down my cheeks as I throw the test and the pink box into the trash. Then I pull out the bag, tie it up, and take it to the big trash can outside so that I won’t have any memory of this heartbreak.

  I can’t believe I was so excited over this. I shouldn’t be. I should be relieved that I’m not pregnant. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go anyway—you’re supposed to get married first and all that crap. You’re supposed to live with the guy who fathers your child.

  I try to tell myself this is for the best, but it doesn’t help much. I collapse onto my bed in tears.

  I don’t know how much time goes by, but soon I hear the rumble of Park’s truck pull into the driveway. My phone beeps, and I’m sure that’s a text from him but I’m too upset to bother checking it. I just lay in my bed, staring at the wall, hating myself for being so upset and still secretly wishing that I was actually pregnant.

  Park knocks on my front door. I don’t get up. I’m pretty sure I left it unlocked because I was too eager to get to the bathroom and take the test. Sure enough, a few minutes later I hear his voice calling my name.

  “I let myself in. You here?”

  Tears splash onto my pillow.

  Park walks into my room. “Becca!” He rushes up to my side. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

  He kneels on the floor so he’s eye level with me, his hand touching my shoulder. “Baby, why are you crying? Are you hurt?”

  I shake my head.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I shrug and roll over. Park crawls into my bed and lays down behind me, sliding his hand over my waist. He kisses my shoulder.

  “Please talk to me,” he whispers.

  “You’ll think I’m an idiot,” I whisper back.

  “I could never think that,” he says, kissing the top of my head.

  I’m still facing away from him, and I don’t bother turning around because it’d just be too embarrassing to tell him to his face. “I thought I might be pregnant,” I say softly. “But I took two tests and they were both negative.”

  “Baby,” Park says, holding me tighter as we lay together. “You took a test without me? I would have brought one to you if you needed.”

  I sigh. “I didn’t want to tell you until I knew for sure.”

  “Well... it makes sense,” he says. “We always use protection.”

  I chuckle. “I know. Like I said, I’m an idiot.”

  “You are no such thing, Becca.” He smells like he recently showered as he leans over and kisses my check. “Why are you crying?”

  “I don’t know,” I say. I take a deep breath and exhale. “I guess I just liked the idea of having a baby with you.”

  “I like that idea too, babe. But please don’t cry. We have plenty of time for babies.”

  “Yeah,” I say, turning over to face him on my bed. He leans over and kisses me. I place my hand on his scruffy cheek. “I guess we do have plenty of time.”

  Chapter 3

  Once I’m feeling a little better, I force myself to sit up and smile and pretend that I’m 100% better. Really, I’m still upset about the whirlwind of emotions I’m having. It’s so crazy how excited I was about the idea of having a baby and now that I’m not, I can’t stop thinking about it.

  Park loads my suitcase into the back of his truck and I turn off all the lights and lock up my house. Since we’re leaving so early for the airport tomorrow morning, I’m going to spend the night at Park’s place tonight. I stay over there all the time, and I’m used to it, but lately all I can think about is wondering when it’ll become my home too. Right now I’m just a guest.

  I hide my worries and stresses as best as I can, by laughing at Park’s stories he tells me about the track he’s building with Jace. They’re starting their own business together and it’s been a crazy journey. Eventually, my sadness does fade away and I can focus on being in the moment with the man I love. We pick up some tacos and queso to-go from our favorite Mexican restaurant and then eat it at his house.

  The place looks really good now that he’s renovated most of the old house. The kitchen is my favorite part, with new counters, tile flooring, and stainless steel appliances. I’m not even a good cook, but I love being in here anyway. There’s also new fluffy carpeting in the bedrooms and fresh paint on every wall. Over the months of renovation and decorating, I’ve been right there with Park every step of the way. I’ve taken so many trips to Home Depot that I have the floorplan of that place memorized. I’ve picked out the paint colors and the flooring choices and even the new tile around the fireplace. This place has my decorative touch all over it, and yet I still don’t live here.

  Be patient, Becca. I find that I’m telling myself this more and more lately.

  After we eat dinner, Park and I find a show on Netflix to watch. I curl up next to him on the oversized couch and pull a fuzzy blanket into my lap. “I’m nervous about tomorrow,” I confess.

  “Why’s that?”

  “I have to meet your parents. It’s scary.”

  He chuckles, his eyes still on the television. “You have nothing to worry about, babe. My parents are laid back.”

  “Do you think they’ll like me?”

  He puts a finger under my chin and lifts my head a bit before kissing me. “Of course.”

  “What if they don’t?”

  “They will.”

  I snuggle closer to him and watch the show on TV. After a while, my thoughts start to wonder. I don’t know much of anything about Park’s parents. I know he calls them Mom and Dad, so I assume they are still married and living together. I know his mom’s name is Laci, because she sometimes comments on his Instagram photos, but when I click on her profile, she hasn’t posted anything herself and her avatar is of her fluffy white cat. It’s weird, not knowing anything about my boyfriend’s parents. I realize I’m lucky though, because so many of my friends at school always hated meeting their boyfriend’s parents. It’s awkward and weird no matter how nice the parents may be.

  Maybe it’s a good thing that I’m not pregnant now, because I want to make a good first impression on them. I want them to like me. I need them to like me. Maybe this is the final thing Park wants me to do before he decides if he wants to be with me forever. I’m generally a nice person anyway, but I’m going to be extra nice when I meet them tomorrow.

  We have to leave for the airport at five, and it’s already past ten o’clock. “Hey, babe?” I say, sitting up a little. “Maybe we should go to bed so we can wake up on time.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Park says, checking the time.