“Of course!” Violet laughs. “It’s your daughter’s new favorite thing to do.”
Violet’s parents were more than a little concerned when we first took them to dinner and told them of our relationship. They were worried about the controversy we would create, and that Geranium would grow up “wrong” because of her “abnormal” upbringing. But we were eventually able to convince them that two dads just meant twice as much love. It took a little while, but what could Rose and Wilbur Means really do? After all, their daughter is an adult, and not only that, but Violet was already pregnant. Since coming around, they’ve been nothing but a delight to visit with, and they love Facetiming with their granddaughter. Hopefully they’ll come visit around Christmas.
Even more, Violet tells me that one of the best parts of being with us is that her parents have finally stopped bugging her to lose weight. They’ve stopped purchasing products for her from the Orgo Weight Loss line, and stopped harassing her to land a man because she already has. She’s landed two of us in fact.
Violet suddenly pulls away to arch a brow at me. “Did you get the milk?”
I must look worried because her arched brow ascends a millimeter.
“Almond milk, and it was Mike’s idea,” I say quickly.
“Only if I was right!” he calls from the other room.
Violet laughs. “Yes, almond milk, thank you!”
“Phew,” I say, wiping imaginary sweat from my brow. “That could have been disastrous.”
Violet shakes her head as she helps me put the rest of the groceries away. “I should not let you two run errands unsupervised.”
“Why not?” Mike asks innocently, coming into the kitchen with a very happy Geranium still in his arms. “We’re a great team.”
“At ping pong, maybe,” Violet laughs. “And at raising our daughter, definitely. But grocery shopping? I’m not so convinced.”
I grin. “We managed alright this time.”
Once the groceries have been put away, we settle into a familiar routine: Violet gives Geranium a bath, Mike starts grading papers, and I cook dinner. We rotate cooking duties, but I always enjoy making food for my family. Besides, I think I’m in a better mood for grading after I’ve eaten something delicious. Mike, however, prefers to “get it over with as soon as possible,” in his words.
We sit down at the family dining table when I’m finished with the salmon and salad. Geranium has been put to bed, having eaten her supper a little earlier and my buddy begins to pour us each a glass of wine, but Violet shakes her head.
“Not tonight,” she demurs.
“Why not?” I ask. “It’s a really nice Riesling we got just for you.”
“I’ll just stick with water tonight,” she says with a coy smile.
Mike looks at me, and I look at him, our brows arched. When we both turn to look at Violet, she’s visibly blushing, but trying to hide it by pressing her palms to her cheeks.
“Babe…” Mike begins, setting down the bottle.
“Do you have something to tell us?” I continue. My heart has started beating a little more quickly, but I tell myself to not get my hopes up. Not yet. Maybe she just doesn’t want wine tonight; that’s perfectly okay, and doesn’t necessarily mean anything.
But then, our beautiful girlfriend smiles shyly. “Scott, Mike,” she says, looking at each of us in turn. “I guess I do have some news to tell you.”
“You’re pregnant?!” Mike blurts.
“No, I won the lottery,” Violet deadpans, before throwing up her arms into the air. “Yes, I’m pregnant!”
Mike tries to make it to her first, but I’m faster, wrapping Violet in my arms and lifting her feet off the ground to spin her in the air. “Oh, my God!” I rasp in her ear. “I’m going to be a dad!”
“You already are a dad!” Violet laughs, tears of joy streaming down her cheeks.
“Well, I’m going to be a dad again!”
“Let me at her,” Mike growl, and I step out of the way so that he can embrace her. After a moment, though, he pulls away from Violet and begins tugging at her clothes.
“What are you doing?” she yelps, her cheeks pink.