She nodded.
“And what has you two looking so mischievous?” Hannah asked as she sat down again.
“Oh, nothing.” I gave Abby a wink, and she put her hands over her mouth, giggling girlishly.
We’d agreed to hold off telling her about the baby for now, just until Hannah was a few more weeks along and we’d decided on a plan—when we’d get married, where we’d live, how we’d break the news to our families.
Hannah was sure her mom would be happy for us. My mom was a different story.
“We’ll tell her together and give her one chance to be happy for us,” I said quietly on the drive home. “If she chooses to be otherwise, that’s her loss.”
She nodded. “When should we do it?”
But I didn’t answer her, because I’d just turned onto Hannah’s street and noticed a car in her driveway—a beige Mercedes that looked a lot like the one my mother drove.
Sure enough, a
s we got closer, I saw her get out of the car.
Hannah saw too. “Oh my God. What do we do?”
“Relax.” I took her hand. “We’re okay. Let’s find out what she wants.”
I parked in the street, and we got out of my car. When Abby saw her grandmother, she immediately ran to her. “Nana!”
“Abby!” My mother scooped her up and hugged her. “I have missed you and missed you and missed you! My goodness, I think you got taller.”
Abby laughed. “We were out for dinner.”
My mother looked at Hannah and I on the sidewalk where we stood holding hands. “Were you?”
She seemed nervous to me, but it was getting dark and I couldn’t read her expression that well. “What are you doing here, Mom?”
“Actually, I came to talk to Hannah.”
“Whatever you have to say to Hannah, you can say to me.”
My mother nodded, but Hannah squeezed my hand. “Wes, maybe you should take Abby inside.”
We exchanged a look, and I understood—she didn’t want Abby to overhear anything negative. “Okay. I’ll be right inside if you need me.”
She handed me her keys, and I reached for Abby’s hand. “Come on, princess. Let’s go in.”
With one final look at my mother—a warning—I led Abby up the front walk and took her inside.
Twenty-Six
HANNAH
I folded my arms in front of my chest. “What do you want?”
She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “This isn’t easy.”
“What isn’t?”
Her hands were fidgety. “Coming here to admit I was wrong.”
“About what?”