Mommy on Board
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Muriel Jensen
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Harlequin
HarlequinPROLOGUE
THERE ARE NINETY-ONE more days until I am born—at least, I hope so. Mom’s been out since early this morning shopping for a desk chair, and that was after eating mocha macadamia cake for breakfast. Her indigestion sounds as bad as mine. If she isn’t careful, I’m going to be born right now with my eyelids half-open and still wearing this tacky lanugo mink coat that I was promised would be gone if I make it full term.
But, you gotta love her. She’s explained to me about my father. He’s been out of the picture for three months, and though she insists it isn’t going to matter, I have my own thoughts about that. But if she’s willing to give it a shot, so am I. I mean, he wanted me out of the picture, and in order to keep me, she gave up everything—including him, her job in New York, her rent-controlled apartment—that place on Forty-second Street with the cheese and onion bagels. It’s like I owe her.
Whoa. What was that? Ouch! Oh, no. I knew this would happen.
Hey, not yet! No! Mom? Mom, I’m not going anywhere ’til I have toenails! Mom!
