After a few moments, during which I can hear Sydney's voice above the rest screaming the lyrics to the latest Lady Gaga song, my mom finally ends the silence.
"Come a little closer, Jenny. I don't want to speak too loudly."
My dad nods in agreement with my mom, so I step closer to her as they share another look that makes my stomach tighten.
"Sydney is going to be a big sister."
I tilt my head, processing the words. Sydney's my little sister, but she's always said she wanted to be a big sister so she could help a younger one like I've always helped her.
Wait, what?
"You're kidding!"
I clamp a hand over my mouth, hoping the words weren't too loud. My mom starts to laugh, and reaches out to take my hand in her own.
"We were waiting, since anything can happen during the first few months. This is a surprise, as you might expect."
I'm not sure what she means by the first statement, but I definitely agree with the second. If they had planned this, I'm sure they would have shared it with Sydney and me earlier.
"This is why you were acting weird in the garage?"
My dad nods, but he's looking at my mom, and there's something about the way he's watching her that makes me feel like I'm intruding. Not like I'm excluded, but more like this is a private, special secret between the two of them.
I frown.
These are my parents. And a baby?
It's not like they didn't already have Sydney and me, but the idea is a little uncomfortable. Who wants to think about their parents like that?
Not me.
"This is incredible. And definitely a good surprise!"
I lean in and hug my mom, wondering if there's anything else I should say.
"Do you need anything? Do you feel sick, or need help with something?"
She laughs again as a pale pink flush comes over her cheeks.
"Your dad has a handle on all of that. I should start feeling better soon. Usually morning sickness is over by now, but I've been a little more overwhelmed by it than I was with you and Sydney."
I was a toddler when she was pregnant with Sydney, so I have no memory of her experience.
Didn't Sydney notice that our mom had been sick? Wouldn't she have told me?
"Don't look so concerned! I'll be fine, and it seems like your new brother or sister will be, too."
"But we don't want to take any chances, with you or the baby," my dad practically interrupts her before I can respond.
From the way he's still staring at her, he's worried about her more than the new addition to our family. Is there something else going on that they aren't telling me?
"Come dance with us, Jenny!"
Sydney bounces up to us with Parker not far behind. He grins at me and waves. I shake my head as I stand, unable to hold back my own smile.
Regardless of what just happened with Michael, I have something to celebrate with my family, even if Sydney doesn't know about it yet, so I'm going to let my parents have some time alone together while I dance with my sister.
Several songs later, both of us have hair falling out of our braids and are getting too sweaty for comfort. There's an open buffet along the wall by the kitchen where guests have been moving back and forth to get food in-between dancing and socializing, but I'm not hungry when Sydney grabs Parker's hand and encourages me to go with them to see what's left.
"No thanks, you two see if you can round up something good. I saw Bethany over there earlier with a stack of ham on her plate, so you might be out of luck there."
Bethany doesn't eat carbs, but if there's animal flesh in the house, you need to hide it before she shows up. I'm sure plenty of people who visit the buffet after she's decimated the meat will be disappointed.
I turn away from my sister and nearly walk into Emily, as she passes behind me with Michael at her side.
"Sorry!"
Michael doesn't even glance at me as I apologize quickly, but Emily offers a calm smile, as if she hadn't watched her fiancé dance awkwardly with me, his ex-girlfriend, a short time ago.
"No problem. Did you eat already? I'm hearing there's a lot of great homemade food over there."
Why does she have to be so nice?
I really want to dislike her, but she's not giving me anything to use against her. If there was any chance for Michael and me to get back together, it was probably lost when he found her.
He wouldn't have been available to her if he had still been with me, if I hadn't been such an emotional, self-centered train wreck after that party.
"Oh, yeah, but if you like meat you might be out of luck."
Michael snorts, just loud enough for me to hear. Everyone knows about Bethany's exploits at social events, so if you lose out on the animal-based protein, it's your own fault.
Emily laughs, not loudly but in a soft yet captivating tone. Can she lose her perfection for one minute so I can dislike her?
It would make whatever I'm mulling around in my mind easier if I did.
Getting him back, which doesn't seem likely, would hurt her, and I have no reason to do that.
The best plan of action would be for me to focus on myself and forming some goals for my future, ones that don't involve Michael.
But now he's looking at me, his forehead scrunched as if he's either worried or trying to figure something out. Does he think it's strange that I would be nice to his fiancée?
I look around quickly and find that a lot of other people have noticed us together, and maybe they think it's strange too. Or at least worth watching.
"Okay. I'll keep that in mind. I had a pile of bacon at breakfast, so I'm probably okay on that front for now."
As she steps away, Michael glances quickly at me, his expression unreadable. I hope mine is as indefinite, because I am absolutely thinking of how I would be the one walking beside him and holding his hand today if I had responded to his calls and texts months ago.
I'm not sure if there's a way to fix this without hurting anyone. Should I even try?
"It's our very own prodigal daughter. It's so good to see you, Jenny."
One of my high school teachers, Mr. Anderson, steps in front of me, and I find myself in a conversation with him for a good ten minutes as he grills me about big city life and college classes.
"I wondered what you would decide to major in, besides marriage to Michael. Since that didn't work out, I was curious as to what you've decided to do with your life."
I nearly step away from him as he speaks, the bluntness of his judgment offensive, but I remember how I keep backing into or turning around to stumble into people, and stop myself. Valley Vale might be a hotbed of gossip, but his tone is sarcastic enough for me to grasp his meaning.
"What's wrong with wanting to get married? We're at a wedding reception right now, after all."
I wouldn't have dared speak to him like this when I was still a student in high school, but right now, as I watch the tiny smirk disappear from his face, I know I've done the right thing in responding this way.
"Nothing at all. I didn't mean to upset you, especially since you won't be getting married anytime soon yourself."
When did he become such a jerk?
"Oh, come now, Jenny. You must know that we all expected a shotgun wedding sooner than later, the way you were glued to Michael's side. Going to Ohio State was definitely not what we saw in the cards for you."
I wish I had a cup of the red fruit punch that's in the cut glass bowl on the dessert table to splash in his face.
"Honestly, what I do with my life is none of your, or anyone else's, business."
Before he can answer, I move away, looking around to be sure I'm not stepping on anyone's feet or pushing someone out of my path. I don't want this attention, and knowing that my life could have gone exactly as I planned it not so long ago if I had been more aware and less self-centered isn't helping.
I can't keep leaving and brooding out at the gazebo, though, so I paste a smile on
my face and start to move from table to table, chatting with older people who have watched Sydney and me grow up. They've handed out Halloween candy to us when we were kids, clapped at our terrible school choir performances, and bought Girl Scout cookies back when we were in a troop together.
None of them have ever treated me like Mr. Anderson just did.
"It's too bad things didn't work out for you and Michael. You were the perfect couple. I always said so, didn't I, Patricia?"
One of our neighbors consults with her cousin, who lives on the street behind us. Their own children grew up and moved away years ago, so they've taken a special interest in everyone's else's children and grandchildren in town.
"That's true. I don't know anyone who didn't expect you two to marry and raise a family right here in Valley Vale."
She makes a clucking sound that brings a true smile to my face. She's notorious for her rather vocal disapproval, which is too amusing to hurt when you're on the receiving end.
Her cousin pats at my head, and I want to pull away, imagining how sticky and sweaty my hair must be by now.
"It's not too late, you know. He isn't married yet."
"Oh, hush, Patricia. She's a big city girl now and probably has a smart boyfriend waiting for her back at the university."
Should I divest them of this assumption?
No, I'd rather not give them more to talk about, since they clearly have plenty.
"It was nice catching up with you. I'm sure I'll see you around town, okay?"
As soon as I stand up, they're whispering loudly to each other and pointing at various people around the room. I don't stay to hear whatever they're muttering about.
Instead, my eyes are drawn to Michael and Emily, each with a plate and plasticware in their hands, talking to Michelle and Levi.
I rest my hand on the back of the closest chair and will my heartbeat to slow down, but it doesn't listen, racing in my chest like a warning beat.
Or maybe, just maybe, like a roar of excitement.
Chapter Fifteen
"Do you want to stay here with Sydney? I'm sure one of her friends' parents could give you both a ride home."
My parents are ready to leave the reception, and from the way my mom's once flushed face has become bone pale, I'm glad.
"No, I'll come with you. Besides, I think Sydney wants to spend the night at Bethany's or Alaina's. I'll check with her if you give me a minute."
I wonder when they'll tell her about the baby, but I'm not going to ask. Would they have told me today if I hadn't found them looking guilty and nervous in the garage earlier?
"We're leaving. Do you think you'll be home later, or are you staying over at someone's house?"
Sydney has a hand to her forehead, finally at a standstill after a long dance marathon. Parker is nowhere to be seen, and I wonder if she wore him out already.
"I think I'll come with you. Alaina asked Bethany and me to spend the night, but I don't really feel like it."
She grabs my hand as she waves to several kids from school while we walk away from them, but before we get to my parents, who are hugging the bride and groom by the door, she pulls me to a stop.
"What's going on? I saw you and Mom and Dad talking earlier and it seemed like something serious. I've been worried about her, too, so will you please tell me what's going on?"
The baby is not my news to tell, but I don't want her to be upset because I can't say anything.
And if she was concerned about our mom, why didn't she mention this before?
"Why are you worried about her?"
It's a legitimate question that might successfully redirect her until our parents can share their secret, hopefully when we get home. I don't feel comfortable knowing about the baby before Sydney does, like we should have found out together rather than one before the other.
Of course, if Sydney had figured it out, or if our parents told her earlier because they had to, I wouldn't have been angry. It's not something to be mad about.
Just thinking about a baby in the house makes me smile. Sure, I've heard the horror stories of middle of the night feedings and the terrible twos, from classmates who complained about their infant siblings as I was growing up, but I can't imagine not being absolutely in love with a baby.
My stomach growls, and without thinking, I rest a hand over it.
Sydney's eyes grow wide.
"No way! You can't be pregnant!"
There's a shuffling of feet near us, and I glance around, shaking my head. That's all I need, for someone to overhear her words and start that rumor.
"Of course I'm not! Do you have to be so loud?"
My words come out more harsh than I intend them to, and Sydney drops my hand.
"Fine, whatever."
She walks ahead of me now, making a beeline for our parents, and as I watch her go, resisting the temptation to run after her, Michael and Emily appear at our parents' side.
I hold my breath for a few moments, wondering how they will respond to each other.
My mother has never said that she's had a conversation with Michael since we broke up, but I'm sure she's seen him around town. This can't be that awkward for them.
Or can it?
My dad shakes Michael's offered hand, but he doesn't smile. Maybe he's just worried about my mom and getting her home to rest, but a part of me hopes his apparent indifference has something to do with his concern for me.
He's never questioned me directly about what happened, but my parents must have talked about it, and with no information from me, speculated on why Michael and I were no longer together after so many years of being inseparable.
Emily watches my parents' reaction to Michael's presence, then Michael's response. She's smiling as she glances back and forth between the three of them, but it's clear that she's paying close attention.
How much has Michael told her about us, I wonder, and does what she knows worry her at all?
I wait until the two of them walk around my parents, then follow Sydney's path just as she reaches them. She's not smiling, and I could kick myself for not only ruining her mood, but letting her go to our parents with questions instead of telling her to wait until we got home.
Why couldn't I have just said that to her a few moments ago?
"Hey, Sydney!"
She turns to me just as she starts talking to them, and I smile brightly.
"Why don't we see if there's any extra cake to bring home? I didn't get a slice yet, anyway."
Her shrug is nonchalant, but she likes cake just as much as I do, so I know it's an act.
"We're going to go to the car, so don't be long."
Our dad means it, and while I know why, Sydney frowns again, but as she opens her mouth I take her hand and pull her away.
"I want a piece with all that fluffy buttercream piping on it. Do you know how long it took for Cathy to do all that decorating?"
Sydney trips a little behind me, and I realize that I might be yanking on her a bit too hard.
"What is wrong with you? I saw you dancing with Michael, you know. Is this about that?"
That. I should have known I'd get questions about that sooner or later.
I grab a tiny paper plate from a stack behind the cake, which is mangled but still in a big enough chunk to cut. The layers were so carefully set together, the frosting smoothed over the edges so perfectly.
Maybe I should have offered to help Cathy set it up earlier today. I can't imagine how she did this all herself.
"I saw him, Michael, in here with his mom when we first got here. You know, when I stopped in the restroom?"
So Cathy hadn't done it alone, and Michael was the one who helped. Why didn't I know that?
None of my business, I suppose. But the next time she has to deliver and set up a wedding cake, I'm definitely volunteering to help. There's no reason why I shouldn't.
"Wow, are you hungry much?"
Sydney keeps talking, even though I'm not answering. She's right; I've
cut a huge piece of the white cake, its raspberry filling spilling out on the pale blue paper plate.
"Yeah, I am. So what?"
I grab a lump of cake that has fallen off to the side and shove it in her face. When she gasps, I wait for her laughter to begin before pulling a matching blue napkin from the table and tossing it over my cake before backing away.
A cake fight is probably the best way to avoid further discussion with my sister about our family situation and my conversation with Michael, which I am going to have to deal with on my own later.
For now, she's screeching indignantly behind me, and I have to beat her to the car before she reaches me. I am sure she's armed herself with a very frosting-laden piece of cake and I don't feel like washing my hair again today.
Although I started it and definitely deserve what Sydney can dish out.
If she can catch me.
More than a few people watch us as we spill from the church door like a couple of little kids, and I hear laughter that may or may not be a result of our antics.
I reach the car, where our parents are sitting, our father leaning close to our mother as her lips move. They both make a surprised sort of noise when I yank the car door open and slide in, leaving it open wide for my sister.
"What are you two . . ."
Our mom starts to speak but is interrupted by Sydney, who wouldn't dare push cake in my face or anywhere else while we're in our parents’ car. My car, sure. But our dad would lean into the backseat and try to strangle us if we got cake all over the inside of the car.
He shakes his head as he glances at us in the rearview mirror and starts the car.
"Watch you don't spill that cake."
We don't need to be warned, although Sydney, who is holding her plate in her lap, slaps at my arm. We both giggle and our mom shakes her head.
But she's smiling.
What does our house with a baby look like?
I don't even know when she's due. Will I be home when the baby is born?
There's no way I won't be here.
"When we get home we need to sit down and have a talk. All four of us."
When You Were Mine Page 9
