My Mate or My Baby Momma? Sequel to MDOMM

Chapter 26

Bethany was screaming with scalding tears staining her cheeks, feebly pulling at my mum’s grip, obviously wanting to go to her mum. She wasn’t ready to let her go yet, I could understand why.

“Mum,” I mutter gently, “let her go. Come on.” With those words, my mum took a step back and Bethany almost collapsed to the floor beside her deceased mother. I don’t think anybody knew what to say… it wasn’t something we had been prepared for yet.

I knew it was coming; we all did, but we thought we had a few months left. The pack doctor had done tests yesterday afternoon- the cancer had spread further, Mrs Foster was very ill but even our doctor predicted she would have 6 weeks, maybe 8 before it took her life. This wasn’t predicted. None of it was.

As I was thinking earlier on at the pack house, nobody deserves to lose their parent so young. Poor poor Bethany…

I found my feet moving and I knelt beside Bethany and took her in my arms, letting her break down; she needed to. I worried at the effect on my son, but I knew for her emotional wellbeing, Bethany needed to grieve. She had lost her mother, the one parent that stuck around.

If I could find and beat seven shades of shit out of her dad, I fucking well would- with pleasure!

“Just let it out sweetheart,” I hear a voice; opening my eyes to see Virginia sat beside us, rubbing Bethany’s back. I was… awed.

Virginia had only ten minutes ago lost her dad, watched him get beheaded right before her eyes, and here she was, the Luna she is, comforting another over losing their parent. She is amazing.

Fucking unbelievably incredible.

 I didn’t know what else I could say; Virginia was the most amazing, loving and selfless woman I had ever set eyes on and I don’t think I would ever be able to compare the love for Bethany to her.

It was completely different.

~*~

Bethany POV

Pottering around, I placed some baby books on the little coffee table in the cosy living room area; it was almost winter and the chill was starting to consume me. I hated the cold months; knowing this, Deacon had casually entered earlier and lit a fire for us in the living room fireplace. It lit the room up perfectly and warmed my toes.

Mum was sat in the arm chair with a book, occupying herself quite happily so I continued to get baby things ready- putting together the gorgeous Moses basket we had chosen. It was white and frilly with an adjustable stand. I had just put it all together by myself, feeling quite proud of myself,

“Mum! Look! I’m not doing too badly with this mummy malarkey!” I announce, grinning widely with pride, taking it over to show her; the grin slowly drops off my face, panic, fear, and sorrow filling its place.

Mum was curled up in the chair; her eyes closed as though she was sleeping… but her skin was a pale blue.

“Mummy?” I whisper.

I put down the basket and stand, and walk over to the chair, unsure of what to do, “Mummy? MmmmMum?” I stutter, poking her arm; I shriek when it flops down, the book landing on the floor with a slap; How to be the best grandmummy in the world.

After that everything from my thought processes, my memory, my train of through, my everything disappears, all I remember was me screaming.

My mum was dead.

She was dead.

The cancer had taken my mum away.

She would never see her grandson.

My little boy would never meet his Granny Foster.

She wouldn’t be there for me when I went into labour.

I was on my own.

I knew someone was holding me up; my legs were like jelly and I wanted away from the barrier, I wanted to force mum awake. She had to be alive. She had to come back!

“I NEED YOU! COME BACK!” I knew I kept screaming that- how many times, I have no idea.

I heard soft voices and I was set free, rushing straight to my mum, painful, gut wrenching sobs filled the air around me and I just cried. I needed my mum!

I had nobody!

Deacon wasn’t mine, he belonged with Virginia.

My dad didn’t want me anymore; I’d disgraced him. I was a failure, a true fuck up. I had ruined everyone’s lives and as payment, the one thing I loved more than myself in the whole world was taken away from me.

I cried into someone’s shoulder and soft words were uttered near my ear; I don’t know whose and right now I don’t care. My mum had gone and I wanted her back. I was a 19 year old girl alone with no family and a baby due in 6 weeks.

I was scared; alone and scared.

Mum was supposed to hold my hand when I birthed my son and give me the advice I needed when he wouldn’t settle; she was supposed to stand by my side and love me unconditionally for many more years.

WHY DID SHE HAVE TO LEAVE ME SO SOON?