by A. M. Wilson
“This is really good. Thank you.”
A pleased smirk dances on the corner of his mouth as his concentration remains on the highway.
“You’re just waiting to say I told you so, aren’t you?”
He cocks his head slightly. “I didn’t say a thing.”
The rest of the ride passes uneventfully, and before long, we’re parking at the curb of my parents’ two-story townhome. Anxiety riddles my insides at the mere sight of the place where I grew up. The gray siding is new to match the white windows my dad proudly installed last summer. I hope he asked for help or used a contractor this time. Thinking of my sixty-year-old father standing on tall ladders by himself makes me nauseous. Or maybe that’s residual from the drive here; I can’t be sure.
The house is the same one I grew up in, and over the years, it has received a facelift. Other than the trim and windows, I know my dad installed a new roof when theirs started to leak. My mother finally planted flower beds out front—a project she’d wistfully dreamed about since I was a kid.
The front door opens, and my parents step onto the wraparound white porch. Nathan gathers our bags, and together, we walk up the steps. Mom gets my first hug, and then Dad claims his turn to wrap me in a warm embrace.
“Nice shutters, Dad. They look great by the white windows.”
He beams with pride and releases me. “Good to see you, sweetheart. I see you brought company.”
I turn woodenly to Mom. “Didn’t you tell him I was bringing Nathan?”
“It may have slipped my mind,” she says with an evasive shrug. The woman’s a dreamer and always too busy for her own good. Intentional or not, she forgot. At this point, it’s a permanent personality trait.
“Did you at least remember to invite Grandma and Grandpa to dinner? We’re here for the night before we have to get back.”
Mom hooks me around the neck and drags me inside. “Now that I did remember to do. They’re waiting in the living room.”
I glance at Nathan and bug my eyes out, but my dad has roped him into a conversation. We didn’t discuss when we’d tell my family, but it very well might be in the next few minutes. Suddenly, I don’t feel prepared. My blasé attitude toward the situation is a farce I can no longer hide. He attempts an encouraging smile, but the overstretched cheeks appear cartoonish rather than comforting. I don’t think he’s ready either.
What choice do we have?
I suck in an extra lungful of fresh air before entering the house. I’m thirty-seven, dammit. Anyone close to their parents knows that age doesn’t matter. Even now, Mom can deliver one of her looks, and I’ll feel the need to send myself to my room. Merely the thought of disappointing my dad makes me want to cry.
Anxiety tangles me in its sticky web as I remove my shoes in their foyer. The thump behind me tells me Nathan’s close behind with our things. A part of me wishes I’d told him to leave our stuff in the truck in case we needed to make a quick getaway. Now that we’re here, ready to face my parents and grandparents, I’m not sure what I was thinking by dragging him along.
Too late. Mom continues to pull me around the corner, and Mimi sees us. My eighty-two-year-old grandmother struggles up from the sofa, and I spring into action to stop her.
“Hi, Mimi, let me come to you.” I wrap her tightly in a hug, but not so tight that she starts griping about her delicate bones. “It’s so good to see you.”
Her answering hug is frail. “Child, an eternity has passed since you’ve come to see me. I don’t have many days left, you know.”
Mimi’s superpower is reminding me that any effort is never enough. Two hours away isn’t across the world, but with a full-time career, it might as well be. The few trips I make a year don’t cut it. “I know, Mimi. I wish I could come more often too.”
Her lips purse, and a disapproving glare reduces me to dust in my parents’ living room. All is forgotten when she spots the handsome man behind me, and she beams in his direction as I greet my papa.
“Hi, Papa.” He returns my embrace with a light pat on the back. Papa’s a rigid man of few words, but I know he loves me in his own quiet way. When I was younger, he’d sneak me chocolates from his pockets when my parents weren’t looking. I like to think he started my love affair with all things food.
He returns to his chair near Mimi, so I cross to the gray leather recliner on the left side of the fireplace. This is my father’s favorite chair. Memories of him watching sports and curling up on his lap as a child flitter through my head and warm me from the inside out. I hope he doesn’t mind me borrowing it for the next few minutes and lending strength from its comfort. The only other available seat is on the loveseat where Mimi forces Nathan to sit. There doesn’t appear to be enough room left.
Mom takes off her apron and squishes herself next to Mimi, proving me wrong. Regret wells up inside because I feel as if I threw Nathan right into the lion’s den. I jolt from the recliner as if my ass is on fire. “Mom, you can sit here. I need a minute to freshen up anyway.”
She easily waves me off. “Psh, I’m fine right here.”
I grimace at Nathan as I pass on my way to the half bath. His expression is unreadable, but I can tell he isn’t pleased. “I’m sorry,” I mouth. The best I can manage in the present company.
I take care of business, wash my hands, and contemplate my reflection in the mirror while I gather my courage. The dark purple circles under my eyes are becoming permanent from exhaustion, and a faint bruise remains beneath my eye from the coffee table debacle. I splash water on my face to cool off and slap my cheeks a little to bring some color back into them. I hope they can’t hear all the noise I’m making, or my entire family is going to wonder what part of me I’m really freshening up.
After waiting what feels like an appropriate amount of time, I walk woodenly to what could be my funeral. Dad and Papa sound like they’re discussing some game—probably baseball as we’re at the end of summer—and Nathan is stuck with Mom and Mimi firing questions at him. As soon as my mother spots me sneaking back in the room, he loses her attention, and she hollers, “K, what is this news you said you had to share with us today?”
“You remember that, but you don’t remember to tell Dad I’m bringing a friend,” I mutter beneath my breath frozen in the middle of the room. My feet are rooted, and I can’t seem to force them to propel me back into the safety of my seat.
“What was that, dear?” Mom calls. I paste a smile onto my frozen face.
“I said that I thought it could wait until we were having dinner.”
Mom looks puzzled. “Why wait? We’re all here now.” She gestures around the room with both hands as though she’s a game show host presenting the grand prize.
Nathan pops out of his chair like his ass is on fire, and I shoot lasers at him with my eyes and start mouthing unintelligible words. He joins me in the middle of the room, takes my hand, and tugs me not-so-gently back to the recliner and pushes me down. Is he trying to get out of my parents’ immediate vicinity, or what the hell was that? I want to laugh and also cry because time’s up.
“Um, so, Nathan and I, we’re, uh, friends, as you know, and recently, we’ve become something more.”
“More? You’ve got to be more specific than that, dear,” Mimi grouses from her spot where she turns to watch the spectacle. At least now, her disapproving glare points at Nathan rather than me. Speaking of the man who got me into this position in the first place, he reaches over and clenches my hand.
“Lovers,” I blurt. The rising cacophony in the room blocks out any attempts I make at correcting my blunder.
Joy seems to be the winning emotion from my mom although my father’s booming question of, “Come again?” rises above the din.
“That’s what she said,” I whisper to Nathan. His elbow digs between my ribs.
“Lovers?” he mumbles from the side of his mouth. I push out my lips and raise my eyebrows.
“I panicked.”
“You didn’t even tell
them yet,” he says.
“What are the two of you whispering about over there?” Mimi ponders loudly, ever the observant one.
“We have more news,” I say. Four sets of eyes lock on me. After scanning across each of them, I buck up and spit it out. “I’m pregnant.”
“Shit,” Dad mutters. Papa walks out of the room.
“Where’s he going?” Nathan asks.
“Hopefully not to get his gun.”
He elbows me again. “That’s not even funny.”
“You’re right. It’s not.” I flare my eyes wide, and my smile is tight and grim.
“You know, normally I love your sense of humor, but right now, I can’t tell if you’re joking or serious.”
I take pity on the man and wink at him.
“Well, are you keeping it?” Mimi asks when she gets her chance to be heard above the noise. The question doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. My family has always been conservative. I grew up hearing the gossip of pregnancies out of wedlock dissected as if those girls contracted Ebola. Luckily at my age, it doesn’t carry as much scandal. Other than Mimi’s invasive question, I wouldn’t be surprised if my parents are relieved to finally get a grandchild out of me.
Before I can defend myself, Mom pipes in with her own shriek of, “Mother!” sounding exactly like all embarrassed daughters across the globe.
Her coming to my defense means all is right in our world.
“Here, I have pictures.” I retrieve the sonogram photos from my purse and hand them to Mom.
“How far along are you?”
“About nine weeks.”
Mom releases a shaky huff and gazes at the black and white photo of her first grandbaby. “I’m happy for you. Both of you.” Her softened gaze crinkles as she swings it at Nathan. “But I hope you know this means you’re sleeping in separate beds.”
“Ugh, Mom. You don’t have to say it. We’ve always stayed here in separate beds.”
She grins at me. “Yeah, but you’re lovers now.”
“I don’t know what you’re so worried about. The evidence is in your hands that the deed has already been done.”
A hand flutters to her chest. Modern day pearl clutching. “Kiersten!”
“What?”
Her voice fills with affront. “That might be so, young lady, but you still respect the rules when you’re under this roof.”
I exaggerate an eye roll. “Just forget that whole lovers comment, okay? We aren’t even in a relationship.”
By the horrified look on their faces, I know I just done fucked up.
Nathan leans down to my ear. “You should have left it alone.”
“Shut up,” I mutter back. “Can we back up a second here?”
My mom returns my pictures back with a delicate drop to my upturned palm. “I don’t think so. All the more reason not to share a room when you’re already having casual sex.” She says the word as if Jesus himself is in the room. “Don’t ask again until the ring is on your finger.” With that, she walks away.
“And here I thought we were about to get out of this unscathed.”
I send my elbow into his side. His grunt is satisfying. “Will. You. Shut. Up!”
9
Kiersten
Cami and I browse the aisles of a motherhood store, scanning items for my registry and adding a few cute outfits to the cart. Or rather, Cami shops as though she’s the pregnant one and has a fully-paid shopping spree at her fingertips.
“I don’t even know what I’m having yet,” I remind her for what has to be the fifth time as she holds up a brown baby cardigan and a pair of jeans with the butt ruffles.
“I know, but isn’t this just adorable? There’s no harm in buying it just in case. It might be out of stock by the time you find out.”
“I doubt it. My ultrasound is in a month,” I grumble, not willing to agree that it is cute, even though it totally is.
“And I’m not going to risk it. Whatever you don’t use, we’ll find someone else to gift them to.”
“As long as you tell Law it was your idea to spend half your paycheck on this stuff and not mine, I’ll stop complaining.”
I pick up an adorable pair of baby tennis shoes to scan, and she snatches them away from me. “Hey!”
“You don’t need those until they’re at least a year old. Well-fitting socks and booties work just fine, and you spend less time having to retrieve them every time the baby kicks them off.”
I cock my head and pin her with a scowl. “Is this your baby or mine?”
Cami sweeps both my hands up in hers and squeezes them. “Ugh, I’m sorry. It’s been so long since I’ve had my own little one, and I didn’t get to enjoy it because I was too busy trying to make sure we had a roof over our heads. I’m sorry.” She bites the corner of her lip and grimaces. “I’m being too much, aren’t I?”
I blow my choppy bangs off my forehead. “A tiny bit, but I forgive you. Just don’t take something from my hand again, or I might bite it off.”
She sheepishly extends the shoes. I take them from her and return them to the shelf. At her puzzled look, I shrug.
“I mean, you’re not wrong. Just use your words next time. And besides, I suspect your baby expertise will come in handy when I need actual help with an infant.”
She fondles the material of a tiny leopard print vest. “I think a lot of my knowledge is obsolete. I last had a baby fourteen years ago, and they modify their recommendations as often as I get a new cell phone. It’s hard to keep up.”
“As long as you can make a bottle and change a diaper, you’re my girl.”
Cami tosses a pack of blue and yellow onesies in the cart. “You aren’t going to try breastfeeding?”
“Shh,” I hiss. “Don’t say that here. You’re going to accidentally summon a crunchy mom, and I’m going to spend the next three hours being schooled on all the benefits of why breast is best.”
My best friend looks at me as though I’ve grown an extra head.
“I honestly haven’t even thought about it, but now isn’t the time for that discussion. I’ll read the baby book and do my own research. Let’s just let that one lie for now.” I shudder when I think about the last time I read that damn book, and what other discoveries lie ahead for me.
I actually haven’t thought about a lot of things yet. Besides my doctor appointments, early sickness, and the slight swelling of my lower abdomen, the pregnancy doesn’t quite feel real yet. I’m sure once I can feel the baby move, reality will sink in, but right now, it feels like something I’m told is happening to me rather than something I’m experiencing.
I mull over the various nipple sizes on bottles, and which ones seem most human like. My phone bings with a text, saving me from asking my best friend an awkward question. I put my thoughts on hold and dig the device from the back pocket of my jeans.
Nathan: My mom wants to meet us at the Tavern on the Creek in thirty. Can you make it work?
I check the time on my phone. If I ditch Cami and leave here right now, I could make it with a few minutes to spare. He’ll owe me for the ridiculously short notice.
“Something important?” Cami asks as I stare at my phone screen.
I run my fingers through my hair. “Yeah, actually. Nathan wants me to meet his mom for lunch. He still hasn’t told her yet, so I’m guessing that day has arrived.”
“Oh.” She grimaces. “Good luck.”
“Why good luck? I’ve met his mom before. Why are you acting weird?”
She bites her lip and drops a pack of diapers in the cart. “He may have mentioned some apprehension about it.” She quickly turns back around to grab another pack.
“Did he say why the apprehension?”
The second pack of newborn diapers joins the first. “His mom loved Janessa,” she says softly. “I’m sure she’ll take the news just fine, and Nathan is blowing it out of proportion.”
“You’re probably right.” Armed with this new information, I type back a reply
.
Me: I’ll be there. You owe me ;)
The wink is a bit much, but I want to lighten his mood. I also want to imply that even though we’re taking this as just friends, I wouldn’t be against adding in a few benefits. My libido is a stoking fire as of late, and manual stimulation isn’t cutting it. It also feels like the skankiest level of hell to consider a one-night stand while the remnants of another man’s seed are firmly planted in my uterus.
Not that another man has remotely crossed my mind when I have a possible all-access pass to Nathan. Can I convince him to do the deed without crossing the friend line with our emotions?
We shouldn’t. Though the thought is tempting because I haven’t had a dry spell this long in, well, ever.
“Do you need to get going?”
I look at the pile in the cart and the remaining aisles we have yet to hit, which are a lot of them.
“I should. Can we do this another time?”
She maneuvers the cart away from me and takes charge. “Don’t even worry about it. Give me a few hours and I’ll have you all registered and a few extra goodies picked out for my new nephew or niece. And if I miss anything, we can come back.”
“You are seriously the best. Thank you!” I hug her swiftly and stride out, grateful we drove separately today.
The restaurant we’re meeting Nathan’s mom at is a cute little diner on the river just outside of Arrow Creek. His dad used to take her here for dates when he was still alive, and she prefers to celebrate their birthdays and anniversaries here to keep the tradition alive. It took a lot of pestering and waiting for him to set our lunch up, but at nearly fifteen weeks, if he waits much longer, she’ll notice my baby bump before he can tell her.
I creep up to the restaurant with a few minutes to spare and park near the back. In the flipped down visor, I touch up my lipstick and run my fingers through my hair, fluffing my bangs off my forehead. I can’t do anything about the angry hormonal zit on my chin, so I pretend it doesn’t exist. When I look as presentable as I can get on zero notice, I climb out and securely hold my leather satchel purse in front of my body. This way, I might be able to hide behind it, and Nathan, until we’re seated.
