“Uh, well, not that long,” I say.Or at all.
Mom’s still looking at Noah. He’s always been polite to her, never causing a scene at any sort of family get together he’s tagged along with Colin to, but she still didn’t like them being friends. Noah was the wild child, dragging Colin into trouble right along with him.
“Well,” Mom finally says. “It could be worse.”
“Mom!” I say and feel embarrassed.
“What?” She shakes her head. “So you’re eight weeks already?”
“Yeah.”
“Have you picked out names?”
I turn to meet eyes with Noah. That hasn’t even come up. “Not yet.”
“What about called insurance or asked about leave at work?”
My blood pressure rises. “Not yet either.”
“You can’t wait on these things, Lauren,” Dad says and I’m suddenly feeling like a bad mother already and totally overwhelmed.
“It’s been a shock,” Noah says. “And we’re still wrapping our heads around this, but we will get everything figured out.”
“Are you going to be involved?” Mom asks, point blank.
“I am,” Noah says, deep voice steady. “I care a lot about Lauren. I have for years, actually.”
I turn to him and our eyes meet. Something unspoken is said between us, and it’s genuine. My heart does a little flutter thing and I feel some sort of connection to Noah.
“I’m sorry to spring this on you all,” I say, thinking I need some sort of closure. “But it is what it is, and there’s no going back. Noah and I are going to do the best we can to make this work, and I really need your support.”
“Treat her and my future granddaughter right,” Dad says, tone threatening. “And you won’t give me a reason to castrate you in the shed behind the house.”
Noah swallows. “I think I can do that. And if Lauren wants another kid someday, I’ll need my balls.”
I kick him under the table. Just agree and shut the hell up, please?
“Dad, you don’t know it’s a girl,” I say.
“Yes I do,” he says. “Intuition.”
My stomach grumbles in warning, telling me I need to eat or risk feeling sick. I reach out and start filling my plate. No one speaks, but some of the tension leaves the air.
Thank fucking goodness.
Noah serves himself and we both start eating. The others take our cue and do the same. Then Mom starts a string of questions asking about cravings and saying she’s helping me decorate the nursery. I can’t bring myself to look at Jenny. Just as I start sharing in Mom’s excitement, I accidentally turn my head and see just how crushed she looks. I don’t want her to be mad at me, but at the same time, I can’t blame her. Though nothing was done on purpose or to beat her to the punch.Sheshould be having this conversation with my mother.Sheshould be giving them their first grandchild.
Not me.
After dinner, things move along normally. The guys go into the family room to watch TV, and the girls stay in the kitchen, drinking wine and cleaning. If Noah and I make things work he is so helping me clean the kitchen after meals.
“How did this happen, Lauren?” Mom asks.
I raise an eyebrow. “After three kids, I’d assume you’d know how someone gets pregnant.”
Mom makes a face. “That’s not what I meant. You and Noah … I never saw that coming. You’re a smart girl. Noah is, well, Noah. I thought I raised you better but apparently I didn’t.”
“Mom,” Katie says. “Stop with the guilt. She already has enough to worry about.”