The Fix (Carolina Connections #1) Read Online Free Page A

where I was helping Rocco
with his backpack. We’d just walked in the door a minute earlier and I was
equal parts eager and anxious to hear about Gavin’s first day.
    “I
did.” Whine. “But they had me running around so much that I burned that off by
about one o’clock. I forgot how much sweat a human body can produce in a day.”
    Eww.
    “I’m
hungry too, Mommy,” Rocco said as he pulled off his shoes and left them in the
middle of the floor – right by the dried up, half-chewed Cocoa Krispies I had
forgotten about from this morning. Double Eww.
    “Okay,
baby.” I grabbed the paper towel roll from the counter and went to the sink to
wet a few. “How does frozen pizza sound?” I called to the other room.
    “Make
it two, and no veggies!” came the response from Gavin.
    “Yeah,
no veggies!” Rocco echoed.
    I
smiled. I know I probably shouldn’t. But when I didn’t stop to think too hard
about whether or not Gavin was the best influence on my son, I was so grateful
that there was indeed a man in his life on a consistent basis. One who would
never flake out on him and all of a sudden find something better to do.
Sometimes it even seemed that the similarity in their maturity levels was, in
fact, the very glue that bonded them.
    I
admit that one of my fears when my mom and dad moved was that Rocco would be
left with just me and I would be depriving him of the opportunity to have
loving and reliable men in his life. That was definitely a contributing factor
in my decision to allow Gavin to move in with us.
    My
biggest fear has always been messing my kid up.
    I
just had to keep reminding myself that in the battle for Rocco’s well-being, a
guy who loves him will beat out veggies every time.
    As
awesome as my kid is, he obviously did not just spontaneously appear in my womb
one day as if my ovaries were having a boring day and said, “Hey, you know what
would be fun?” No, he was the result of numerous lime gelatin shots, a hot
friend-of-a-friend musician visiting from California, and some extraordinarily
bad judgment on everyone’s part.
    Dominic,
Rocco’s dad, is actually a nice guy and I have to give him some credit. After
the initial, and expected, freak-out when I’d tracked him down by phone with
the news every nineteen year old guy wants to hear – guess what? It’s a boy! –
he’d tried to step up the best way he knew how. It had been three months since
the fateful deed in the back seat of a borrowed extended cab truck ( I know –
don’t remind me ), and only three days since I’d finally stopped Linda
Blair-ing my guts out with morning sickness. As I sat on my bed in my childhood
room clutching my cell phone, we had discussed possible options – me moving to
California, him moving to North Carolina – but in the end it had just made
sense for each of us to stay put. My family was here and I was mid-way through
my freshman year of college. His family was scattered, but he had just been
accepted into a very prestigious music program, and while his family had quite
a bit of money, we’d both known that him dropping out and moving across the
country for his knocked-up one night stand would not go over well.
    As
cringe-worthy as it sounds, we were complete strangers. And while neither of us
wanted Dominic to be a stranger to his child, uprooting hadn’t been the best
plan. So I had stayed here and Dominic had flown out for the birth. And after a
paternity test which his family’s lawyer had naturally insisted on, a
reasonable arrangement for child support was agreed upon and we’d worked out
visitation. Dominic, even now, didn’t make much money, but with his family’s
resources he made sure we got what we needed financially.
    And
he does love his son – I know this. But I don’t know if he’ll ever love anyone
more than he loves his music and that’s not what I want for Rocco in a full-time
dad.
    Now
Dominic flies out to take Rocco for a few weeks every year between breaks in
his busy