by Elena Aitken
Maren nodded and pushed her chicken around on her plate. It was easier to just let her run her course.
“It’s okay, Grandma.”
“It’s not okay. You’re a good kid.” She nodded at Rylee. “Lord knows what some of those other kids are out there doing while you’re studying and working hard. Your parents should be proud of you.”
“We are proud, Barbara. Immeasurably.”
“Well, you have a funny way of showing it.” She huffed and sat back in her chair. An indication that she was either winding up to give them some more of her opinions, or had finished her rant.
“It really is okay, Grandma.” Rylee’s smile was over-the-top sweet. “Dad was just asking a question. Forget about it. It’s Mom’s birthday.” She aimed her smile in Maren’s direction. “I think we should make a toast.” Rylee lifted her glass of water. “To Mom. I hope you—wait. Mom, you need some wine.”
“Sorry, hon. I thought you had some.”
Maren put her hand over the glass as Davis reached for the bottle. He tilted his head and gave her a look. It wasn’t often she passed up a glass of wine. Particularly on special occasions.
“Not tonight.”
“Still not feeling well?”
That was a very mild understatement, but Maren nodded. “It’s been kind of a…crazy day.”
“That’s right. Your meeting.” Davis put the bottle down with a clunk. “How did it go? Are we toasting the birthday girl and the new account manager of PlayTime?”
In an instant, the thick fog was back and she couldn’t think. She couldn’t answer his questions. But she couldn’t just sit there silently. She needed to get up. To leave. But Maren couldn’t feel her feet, and her hands felt as if they were somehow detached from her body. The fog became thicker, suffocating her. Making it hard to breathe.
If anyone noticed her distress, they didn’t say anything.
“You got the job. Right, Mom? It’s about time. I mean, you should have taken the promotion ages ago.”
“Do you start on Monday or is there some kind of transition period?”
Their belief in her was so complete that they were talking as if the promotion was a sure thing. That she’d both been offered the job and more importantly, had accepted. They spoke as if everything was fine and Maren’s whole world hadn’t been completely turned upside down only a few hours earlier.
Because they didn’t know. They had no idea that everything had changed.
But how could she tell them?
“Rylee’s right.” Davis’s voice sounded tinny and small, as if he were in a tunnel and not on the other side of the table. “A toast is in order.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Maren saw him raise his glass. Rylee followed suit.
Her mother’s arm didn’t move. “Maren?” Her voice was equal parts annoyance and concern. “Are you okay?”
“To Maren,” Davis continued, as if he hadn’t heard Barbara. More likely, he had and was ignoring her. “A new decade, a new career, and a new start.”
“To Mom.”
The sound of their glasses clinking echoed in Maren’s head, but still she couldn’t move. Hoping it would give her strength to say or do something, Maren squeezed her eyes tight and when she opened them a moment later, she was staring directly at her mother’s assessing gaze.
“Maren?”
She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut again, unwilling to look at her.
“Maren. Honey?” Her voice was all concern now.
“Mom. Why aren’t you—”
“I’m pregnant!” She hadn’t meant to yell. Hell, she hadn’t meant to say anything at all, but the pressure was too much. It needed release. But once the words were out of her mouth, not only did the pressure not abate, but she couldn’t take them back. They bounced around the dining room, echoed from the walls, and finally landed in a heavy heap on the table in front of her.
The room was silent for a beat. Then another.
It was Davis who spoke first. “What?” His voice was strangled and unfamiliar. “What did you say?”
Finally Maren opened her eyes and looked at her husband, who’d aged at least five years in the past few seconds.
“We’re going to have a baby.” She repeated the words she’d last spoken when she’d discovered her pregnancy with Rylee. All those years ago, the words had changed their lives forever. Sixteen years later, they’d just done the same.
Only this time, no one was celebrating.
Rylee
“Pregnant?” Rylee barely managed to swallow down the bite of vegetable korma she’d just taken. It was better than spitting it out, which was what she really wanted to do because suddenly the creamy coconut sauce seemed to curdle in her mouth. “Like, with a baby?” She barely managed to get the words out and as soon as they were, she wanted them back as she realized how stupid she sounded. But for the life of her, Rylee couldn’t figure out anything else to say, except to state the obvious.
Across the table, her mom nodded and then did something she never did.
She cried.
Shit.
Rylee could probably count on one hand how many times her mom had cried in front of her, and it was never a good thing.
“At your age, Maren?” Her grandma had put her fork down and was doing that thing with her lips that made her mom crazy. But Rylee’s mom wasn’t looking at her, so she probably didn’t notice. Instead, she was staring at Rylee’s dad, who had turned a strange gray color and looked like he might pass out. “Really?” Her grandma kept talking, and her voice only seemed to make her mom cry more.
Rylee looked between all three of them and almost laughed, even though nothing about what was happening was funny. But to think that she’d been worried that everyone would be freaking out at her because she was a few minutes late because she’d been hanging out with Brice. Her infraction seemed absolutely minuscule compared to the bomb her mother just dropped.
“I know it wasn’t planned.” Her mother didn’t even sound like herself. Instead, she was some sort of bizarre cross between her actual self and one of those perky motivational speakers they brought into the school who spouted nothing but bullshit about how studying and waking up early could change your life. “But it won’t be that bad,” she continued. “I mean, not that a baby would be bad. I was just…”
If Rylee hadn’t been in such shock herself, she might actually have felt sorry for her mom. Clearly, she was trying to come up with something positive to say. It was painfully obvious that she was struggling. She just kept staring at Rylee’s dad, who sat staring straight ahead, shaking his head as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard.
It was too hot in the room. Her sweater itched around her neck and for a horrifying minute, Rylee thought she might actually throw up. And then she heard herself ask, “You’re not going to keep it, are you, Mom? I mean, a baby? Now? Like at your age? That’s kind of…”
She had no idea where the question came from or even why she thought getting rid of the pregnancy could possibly be an option. Not that she’d ever given it any thought before. Sure, as a young woman, she probably had some sort of civic duty to care about these things. But she couldn’t honestly say she’d given it any thought before. But that was when her mother wasn’t pregnant. The idea of it all turned her stomach.
“Rylee!” Her grandma’s face was a frightening shade of pink.
Rylee shrank back in her seat as everyone’s eyes turned to stare at her.
“Rylee.” Her father finally broke his silence. “I never want to hear you talk like that again. Am I clear?”
Was he clear? Was he kidding?
She wasn’t the one pregnant.
“Are you kidding me right now?” She knew on some level, a very major level, that she should just shut up. But she couldn’t seem to help herself. Anger she likely had no right to feel bubbled up from somewhere deep inside. “It’s a totally fair question. You obviously don’t want the baby.” She waved her ha
nd around. “I mean, no one here is happy.” She knew she was being mean, and even though she wouldn’t turn her head to confirm it, she was pretty sure she could hear her mom crying even harder with every word that came out of her mouth. Rylee knew she should stop, but once she was started, she couldn’t seem to find her off switch. “And Mom’s old.” She spat the word at her father. “She can’t have a baby. It’s disgusting.” Her mom choked on a sob and Rylee looked up. “You’re disgusting.” The words felt like daggers flying off her tongue and as if she were watching through some sort of slow-motion camera, she could see as each one landed in her mother’s heart.
“Rylee!” Her father’s voice boomed through the room.
Dammit. She should have just kept her mouth shut. But it was too late. She couldn’t take them back. Ignoring her father, she pushed back from the table so quickly the chair hit the wall behind her. It probably left a mark, but she didn’t care.
Rylee threw her napkin on the table and ran out of the room and up the stairs to her bedroom, where she slammed the door like a tantruming toddler.
As soon as she was in the sanctuary of her own space, she collapsed on the bed and let herself cry. She didn’t even know why she was crying. It’s not like she was upset that her parents were having a baby. Not really. Except everything would change. But hadn’t she just been wishing that her mother would get a life beyond her?
Careful what you wish for.
A voice that sounded suspiciously like Sienna’s bounced around her brain.
Sienna.
Rylee wiped her tears and reached for her cell phone. Sienna was never going to believe it.
Instinctively, Rylee pushed the button to dial her best friend’s number. But it rang three times and her message came on.
Frustrated, she disconnected without leaving a message and typed a text instead.
You around?
Seconds later, the reply came.
Yup.
Rylee started to text her about what had just happened, but there was no way she could possibly get it out fast enough. She gave up and dialed Sienna’s number again. Still no answer.
I thought you said you were home, she texted quickly. She was obviously near her phone. I need to talk.
She sent the text and waited. The little bubbles appeared on the screen that told Rylee she was replying, but no message came through. She sat up cross-legged on her bed and waited. Still, nothing.
Sienna? You there?
The bubbles disappeared, and then they were back. This time, a text came through.
I’m here.
Quickly, Rylee responded.
I really need to talk to you. It’s an emergency. Worse than an exploded pen. Call me.
Sienna would call right away. Exploded pen was the code they’d used for a really huge, mega monster crisis. Ever since seventh grade when Sienna had gotten her period in the middle of art class while she was wearing white jeans. Of course, Jeff Baker noticed and started to tease her but thankfully Rylee had seen what was happening and had quickly grabbed a handful of pens and made up a story on the fly about how one of them had exploded on her seat and Sienna had sat in it. It was a total cover-up, but Jeff was dumb enough to buy it. And ever since then, when either of them had a big emergency situation, they rated it against the exploded pen measure. This was way worse than that. It was an explosion of epic proportions. Sienna would get that.
But she didn’t call. And when her return text finally came through, it was clear that not only did she not understand the magnitude of the situation or how Rylee’s life was about to epically explode. But there was a completely different type of crisis situation going on.
I don’t want to talk to you.
Rylee’s stomach twisted again and her fingers went numb. She didn’t want to talk to her? Like, at all? Before she could respond, Sienna’s next text came through.
Why don’t you just go tell Brice?
Rylee stared at the phone and reread her words.
Once.
Twice.
Seriously? Brice? She dropped her head back and stared at the ceiling. Rylee wasn’t dumb. Of course she knew Sienna was a little upset that she didn’t tell her about the first kiss with Brice but…this was important. Like, really important. There was no way she was that mad at her. Was there?
You don’t understand.
Rylee started to type more. To maybe tell her what was going on, but before she could, her response came.
I understand that we’re obviously not the friends I thought we were. Best friends don’t ditch for a boy.
Oh my God. Rylee let out a noise that was part scream and part groan. She was going to text again, but for some reason remembered what her mom always said about important conversations happening in person. That wasn’t going to happen, at least not at that moment, but at least she could make another effort to try to talk to her. Once again, Rylee pushed the button to dial Sienna.
This time, she picked up.
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
“You answered, didn’t you?”
“That’s because I—”
“Sienna.” Rylee cut her off. “You’re not really mad, are you? I mean, really really mad?” She didn’t want to talk about Brice at all. It wasn’t the time. Besides, it wasn’t going to get them anywhere. Sienna was never going to like him. And there was a way more major crisis going on. She needed to talk to her about her mom and how insane it was that she was going to have a baby. She needed Sienna on her side. “It wasn’t anything. And I—”
“It was something, Rylee.” Sienna’s voice shook the way it always did when she was nervous. Or really mad. “You’ve been spending all your time with him, which is…whatever. I guess. But you didn’t even tell me that you guys kissed. Do you even get how major that is?”
She did. At least she thought she did. But she couldn’t think about it. “Sienna, you don’t understand. My mom is—”
“You just don’t even care, do you?” Her voice broke. “You’re supposed to be my best friend.”
“I am. That’s why I really need to tell—”
“No.” She interrupted her. “No, you’re not.”
Rylee held the phone in her hand long after Sienna disconnected the call. She stared at the screen and the letters BFF surrounded by a selection of hearts and smiley face emojis that Rylee assigned to her contact information. It was identical to her info on Sienna’s phone.
Best friends forever.
Or at least until you really needed them.
Maren
Without a doubt, it had been the worst night of her life. Even worse than the night when she was eight years old and her mother came to tell her that her father wouldn’t be coming back from his business trip, because he hadn’t gone out of town at all, but across it to another woman’s house and that’s where he would stay. Maren had spent that night, and most of the nights for the next few weeks, crying and wondering why her dad didn’t love her enough to come and say good-bye. Those had been terrible times. But not even that compared to the hell that was the aftermath of her birthday dinner.
It felt like forever before Maren could finally get her mom to stop asking her questions about how they could possibly be pregnant—as if she really needed a lesson in sexual education—and go home. There was no answer that was going to satisfy her anyway, and she was the last person Maren wanted to discuss the situation with. But it didn’t get any better when Barbara finally took the hint and left them alone. Davis just sat mutely and stared across the containers of cold food at her.
She’d never seen him that way. Stunned, angry, sad, and…confused. All at the same time.
Maren made a few efforts to try to talk, because now that she’d finally said it out loud, she no longer wanted to just go to bed and forget about what was happening. Instead, the desperate need to talk about their situation grew inside her. But Davis didn’t seem to feel the same way because after a few efforts from Maren, he finally stood from the table
and offered her his hand. “I think we should just go to bed and talk about this in the morning. I need some time to process.”
Process. Of course. They could probably both use some time to process. Maren nodded in agreement because what else could she do? More than anything, she needed to talk to her husband, but she knew him well enough to know that if she pushed too hard, he’d shut down. So, despite the fact that it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet, she’d gone up to bed with him, leaving the food untouched on the table. Part of her thought about checking on Rylee, but the idea exhausted her. And for the first time in recent memory, Maren didn’t make a choice based on what she thought was best for her child.
But then again, maybe it was best. Maybe Rylee just needed some time to process too.
Like a robot, Maren went through the motions of getting ready for bed and when she finally slipped beneath the sheets next to her husband, she rolled over to face his back. “Davis?”
It took a minute and she’d almost given up, thinking he’d already fallen asleep, but finally Davis rolled over to face her.
She wiggled one hand out between the sheets and across the distance to rest on his. “It’ll be okay.”
It was probably the stupidest thing she could have said, because of course it wasn’t going to be okay. Their whole lives had been tossed upside down in an instant, and as much as things could most certainly have been worse in a million different ways, at that very moment, there was nothing worse for them.
Davis didn’t answer, but she hadn’t expected him to. Not really. Instead, he offered a slight nod before closing his eyes and drifting off.
His sleep had never been affected by stress or the endless thoughts that seemed to roll through Maren’s head. And apparently this life-changing announcement didn’t make a difference to his slumber either, because for most of the night Maren laid next to her sleeping husband, wishing she could just go back in time. The only problem was, she had no idea when she would rewind the clock to.
