Nate shifts his weight. “Is that an appropriate thing to say in front of the kids?”
“It’s the truth.”
My dehydrated, low-blood-sugar, hormone-addled brain finally catches up. “You can have more than three?” And oh my God, that really is Ryder Reed.
Nate looks like he’d love to have a lawyer answer the question. “Well…something like that.”
“The question is, three what,” Justin says. “Bottles? Vats? Wine casks?”
I stare at Nate. Why would he lie about this? He’s had me booze-block him for months…for what? He had to know the truth would come out and we would both look silly.
I look down, and my gaze lands on my belly. Nate’s family seems to think it’s just a normal baby Nate and I remember having made. But the thing is…even if I lie about it, the truth is going to come out soon enough, because who knows what kind of conclusions Nate is going to draw once we start talking? He’ll have to think that it isn’t the first time somebody used a baby to trap him. Didn’t he say Georgette did the same thing with a fake pregnancy? Mine’s not fake, but he might wonder whose baby it is.
If I were him, I would.
The right thing to do is come clean. My muddy brain knows that much.
“You know…I need to say something about this baby,” I say. “I know it’s awkward, but—”
Nate quickly tugs at my elbow and pulls me closer. “Honey, they already know everything.” He smiles at me.
Honey? And what “everything”?
“No reason to go into detail,” Barron says. “No matter how it happened, we’re happy to welcome another child into the family. I’m a traditionalist, but not completely inflexible.” He smiles and looks around the room.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Evie
A miasma of confusion follows me around like my own personal fog for the rest of the party. I wish I knew exactly what Nate said. It’s hard to just smile and pretend everything’s great. But what other option do I have?
Thankfully, Blanche decides to stay at Justin’s, mainly because Ryan starts raging about wanting to have his grandma all to himself. For once, I’m grateful to a small child for pitching a fit. Mom will be staying with us instead. Barron generously offered to put her up in the Ritz or Aylster—the best available suite his assistant can book for her, of course—but Mom, slightly horrified, vigorously declined.
Since we can’t fit my mom in the back of Nate’s Ferrari, the scarily cold Dane decides to drop her off in his super-fancy cream-and-pink Cullinan. I had no idea cars came in those shades, but I say nothing.
I dread what she’s going to say. We haven’t had
a chance to talk, although she smiled and played along with everything. But I know she’s wondering if I know what I’m doing. Hell, I’m wondering if I know what I’m doing.
And although Nate’s family is too happy and distracted with the prospect of a new baby, Mom has undoubtedly latched on to the fact that I took a pregnancy test in the bathroom of someone else’s house. Except I can’t really tell her everything. I don’t want her to have to lie for me.
Once we arrive at Nate’s place, I put him off for the moment and take Mom to a guest room. The second the door closes, she grips my wrist. “Evie, what’s going on? You’re really pregnant?”
I sigh. “Yes.” I gently lead her to the bed, and we sit down.
“But…this isn’t what you said. This can’t be good for you.” Worry has put more lines on her face. Unlike some of the older women at the party, Mom’s face shows every bit of her life. All the hardship and struggles she’s had to overcome. Little wrinkles fan from the corners of her eyes and below. They make gorges along her cheeks and around her mouth. The three deep lines between her eyebrows are from fretting about paying bills, how to put food on the table and a roof over our heads. Her only jewelry is a beautiful golden ring engraved with flower motifs on the outside and “…till death do us part” inside in a swirly script. She told me my dad gave it to her the day he told her he loved her. Seeing it chokes me up, since it’s obvious she wants me to find a man who loves me the way my dad once loved her.
I hate it that I can’t tell her what she wants to hear, but I haven’t even spoken to Nate yet. So I take a moment to gather myself, mentally casting around for a way to reassure her without promising anything I can’t deliver on. “Nate’s a good person. He always does the right thing, Mom. You don’t have to worry.”
“But what is ‘the right thing’? For himself? For you? How about the baby?” Mom lowers her voice. “A baby changes everything, Evie. And from the way that loud old man was talking, I can just tell that family will run right over you to keep it if anything goes wrong.”
A sliver of fear cuts through me like a shark fin in night water. I force a smile. “You can’t think about things turning out badly, Mom. We just got married.”
“Well, I simply don’t trust him.” Her mouth tightens. “Did you see what he thinks is tasteful ‘art’ in the living room? It’s not my place to say anything, but my goodness.”
That damned statue. I wonder if I can send it back to Barron.
“Mom, come on. You’ve never trusted anybody with me. You didn’t think much of the boys I dated in high school, to say nothing of Chad.”