One of the few advantages of having a baby at seventeen was there were virtually no lingering effects. She didn’t have stretch marks or a poufy stomach. She wasn’t skinny but she was the same weight she’d been since she was twenty, and she honest to God had no idea what size she should wear.

Deciding jeans were the best way to find out, she picked three sizes of the same style and took them into a dressing room. The twelves looked nice, but a little loose and the eights didn’t make it over her butt. She put on the size ten jeans and looked at herself in the mirror.

They fit. Sort of. They were much tighter than anything she ever wore but they weren’t uncomfortable. She turned sideways to look at herself. She had to admit, she looked fairly decent. Not, you know, like a model or anything, but she wasn’t hideous. She’d never liked her thighs, but her butt was okay and she had something of a waist.

“Size ten it is,” she murmured.

Thirty minutes later she had an impressive pile of yeses. The at-home clothes were easy. She went for cheap and washable. For the road trip, she found several cute crop pants that would be comfortable, appropriate and weren’t denim. She also chose a sleeveless wrap-front cotton blouse in several colors. They would be easy wearing on the long bus trip and would go with the two above-the-knee skirts she’d bought. For reasons not clear to her, she fell in love with a red floral-print dress with black lace at the hem. It was ridiculously cute and she found she really wanted it. Hopefully there would be a dinner or two where she could wear it. And at twenty-two dollars, it wasn’t going to blow her budget.

Once she was home, she carried her purchases into her room and sorted through them. On the whole, she was happy with what she’d bought. She had a new wardrobe, she hadn’t broken the bank and she’d checked off an important item on her list. Or at least she would once she started actually wearing the clothes. And speaking of the list...

She pulled it out of her underwear drawer and studied it. So many of the items seemed impossible. While sex with a handsome man was the most unlikely, the one that scared her the most was letting Cooper spend time with his dad. She knew she had to do it and having it happen while they were in LA made the most sense. But thinking that and following through were two very different things.

But what if he liked his dad better? What if he wanted to move to LA and never spoke to her again? What if everything about Jeremy’s Hollywood life was more exciting and somehow he blamed her for his dad not being interested in acting like a father?