And by right, I one hundred percent mean, “You guys have my back, right?”
“Of course.” Mom scoots out of the booth after Dad. “But tell him, Dorothy. And tell him soon.”
“I will. I just found out today. I haven’t even confirmed it with a doctor. And I could sneeze and miscarry. Disrupting everyone with a 9-1-1 pregnancy alert isn’t called for at almost ten o’clock on a Friday. But …” My nose wrinkles. “I’m pregnant. I’m … pregnant.”
My parents nod slowly, showing a bit of relief in the face of my flash of panic—my real acknowledgment.
“This kid will get my genes. It’s doomed. Eli will realize this too. He’s smart. He studies things, like terrible things we genetically pass along to the next generation. He’s not going to want this. And that’s fine, right? I’ve got this. I mean … we’ve got this. Right?”
“Yes. Of course, baby girl. We’ve got this.” Mom hugs me right after we exit the restaurant. “But soon. You need to tell him soon.”
“Yes. Soon …” I sigh. Soon as in January if I can keep my mouth shut that long. Thanksgiving is this coming week. Christmas next month. I’m not disrupting families over the holidays. Besides, that gives this little fetus inside of me time to decide if he or she is going to stick.
I get stuck at all stoplights getting out of Portland, so my parents beat me home.
“Oh shit …” I whisper when I see a blue Tesla and the outline of a man—the man—sitting on the steps to the front porch. I gun it to get pulled into the garage before Mom and Dad drag their asses out of their car. “Go in the back door. Go now!” I demand before I even get my seatbelt unfastened.
“He knows …” Mom shakes her head.
“We don’t know that, but I just … just go.”
“We’re going … we’re going.” Dad pulls Mom’s arm toward the back door to the garage.
I walk out front and lower the garage door at the keypad. My lungs and heart refuse to cooperate. It’s hard to breathe as I take slow steps to the porch.
There he is … sitting on the top step, wearing jeans and a hoodie. His elbows rest on his knees, hands folded in front of him. He has a thicker layer of stubble along his face, approaching the perfect length for a neatly trimmed beard. He’s … hot.
Yup, even now, in the dark, when he belongs to another woman, he’s still a sight to behold.
“You should have messaged me. I wasn’t expecting you. We went for a late dinner, since I don’t get off work until eight. Mexican … chips and guacamole. It was really good.”
Eli runs a hand through his hair, dipping his chin and scratching the back of his head. “I know what time you get off work. But I didn’t want to discuss our baby via text.”
Gulp …
“She told you,” I whisper.
“The question is, why didn’t you?” He sounds a little hurt or angry. Or maybe just tired. I really can’t tell because it’s dark, and I’m cold, and my pounding pulse makes it hard to hear well.
“I literally took the test this morning.” I start pacing again. “I stuck it in my pocket. Then it dropped out of my pocket when I went to grab my phone. She was there. She took it and made me follow her to her office to talk about it. I didn’t dream she would tell you today. I thought she’d have the decency to give me at least twenty-four fucking hours to digest the fact that my life is going to change forever!”
Eli stands, taking the three steps to meet me. “Why are you yelling?” He grabs my shoulders to stop my pacing.
Wow … I thought … I really thought I had this. I thought I worked this out in my head, very factually, very analytically. Yet, here I am breaking down. Here come the tears like rain that wasn’t in the forecast.
“Because I’m pregnant. And I really wanted to give you the life you wanted—the life you deserve. And I know it took two to make this baby, but I should have never let it happen. It’s just that I really wanted to be with you one last time. And now everything is ruined, and I’m trying really hard to pretend that it’s not. But if Dr. Hathaway leaves you again because of this, I’ll feel bad for like … ever.” I cover my face with my hands and hold in the sobs, but they shake my body anyway.
Eli wraps me in his arms. “Oh my god, Dorothy … you’re not even close to hitting the truth about what this means.” He presses his lips to the top of my head.
I wipe my face, sniffling as I look up at him. The moonlight illuminates his face, and right now I want to be selfish, but I can’t. I won’t. “You just got your family back. Don’t let this ruin that. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”