The Best Thing

by Mariana Zapata

Mo’s little kitten cries. The same kitten cries that melted my heart every time I heard them. Even when I was tired and crankier than hell. Even when I was worried and overwhelmed. Even when I was scared and didn’t know how the hell I was still alive and who had been dumb enough to give me such a huge responsibility. I stood up before Grandpa made a move to go to the stairs. “I’ll go get her. You calm down in the meantime and remember all the reasons why you would hate going to jail if you got caught committing a felony,” I said before heading up to the second floor two steps at a time. What a fucking mess. Down the hall and two doors down, beside my bedroom, I walked right into the bright room and headed straight toward the crib. And as much as I was flustered, I couldn’t help but grin as I peeked over the railing a second before I picked Mo up. “Hey, chunky monkey,” I said, smiling at the one thing in this world that scared the shit out of me more than everything and anything else ever had combined. I had cried a month straight when I had first seen the positive pregnancy test staring back at me. Then I had spent the next six months staying up at night, unable to sleep, because I’d been terrified that I didn’t know what the hell I was getting myself into. That I had made the wrong decision. She was my seven-pound, eight-ounce surprise when she’d been born. The instant love of my life. The best thing I ever did. She was the sweetest, happiest baby in the world. And I’d he...

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH TEA OK