Tuesday
I missed him more than I wanted to admit to myself.
I missed him more than I should have.
I missed him more than I knew how to handle.
I’d stared at my phone last night, watching as his name and a photo I’d taken of him and Jamey filled my screen, my ringtone playing loud enough to drown out the sounds of trash television and the humming from my sewing machine. I wanted to answer, to speak to him, to tell him that I missed him. But I knew I couldn’t do that, and without that, I didn’t know what else to say.
I couldn’t bring myself to answer.
He’d called me again an hour later, and I couldn’t answer then, either. All I could think about was how he’d looked down at me, how he’d held my face in his hands so softly as if I would shatter, how he moved inside of me so perfectly that it felt like we’d become one. How words had formed in my head that I couldn’t bear to say out loud.
It replayed in my mind over and over, forcing a lump to form in my throat as I pulled into my parents’ driveway. I didn’t know what to do with all the extra time not watching Jamey; I’d gotten too good at doing my work quickly and efficiently that I’d finished up by noon. Hudson had already told his parents, so at least we’d be equal now.
I pushed open my door, shaking the thoughts of Hudson out of my head. Mom was already standing in the doorway, a massive smile on her paint-coated face, her clothes stained to high-heaven.
“Are you guys painting?” I asked sarcastically, throwing my bag over my shoulder as I made my way up the cobblestone walkway.
“Obviously,” Mom laughed, stepping back to let me through the open doorway. The house smelled of paint fumes and I briefly wondered if it would harm the baby. I made a mental note to look it up asap. “I’d hug you but I don’t want to get paint on your pretty dress. Did you make that one?”
I nodded and gave her a little twirl, the yellow and white lace spinning. “What are you guys painting?”
“Your old room.” She grinned as she shut the door behind me, placing her paint-free hand on my cheek. “We’re not quite sure what we’re going to do with it yet. We’ve moved the last of your stuff to the attic, so don’t worry, it’s not gone far. Just had to cover up that awful deep purple you insisted on.”
I rolled my eyes at her as I plopped myself down on the sofa, the plush familiarity seeping into my bones. Sometimes I missed living at home. Although the house was fairly grand, it was always homey, and the idea of my baby getting to spend so much time here was enough to make the backs of my eyes burn. “I uh… I might have an idea for it.”
Mom furrowed her brows at me, one hand on her hip. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I chuckled as I leaned my head back onto the pillow. “Go get Dad and I’ll explain.”
“I don’t under…” Slowly, as if wading through quicksand, Mom’s eyes widened. Her mouth opened, words escaping her, and I watched as she glanced between my eyes and my stomach. “Are you pregnant?”
I bit my lip as I released the urge to place my hand on my not-yet-there bump. “Is it that obvious?”
Her eyes went glassy as a small smile tugged at her lips. “Oh, sweetheart. I’ll get your father.”
————
“I’m sorry, this is just a lot to take in considering we only properly met him a couple of weeks ago.” Dad leaned back in his recliner, his gut taking up the majority of the space. “It’s not that I’m not happy for you, sweetie, I am. I’m just a little blindsided.”
Mom squeezed my hand. Her body was so close to mine, her legs brushing against my own. “We’re so excited for you, but your father’s right. We only just met your fiancé. It’s a little worrying.”
I sighed, searching my mind for the right words to say. “I get that,” I started, squeezing my mom’s hand in return. I didn’t want to lie, but I needed to. “But I’ve known him a lot longer than you have. I wouldn’t have agreed to marry him if I didn’t want this with him as well.”
“Were you guys doing IVF? I know you mentioned it…” Mom tapered off as she searched my eyes for answers.
“Nope,” I said, popping the p. “I was going to, but it turns out we didn’t need it. It was accidental, to be honest. But I’m happy nonetheless.”
“Are you sure you’re ready? Are you sure he’s ready?” Dad asked, his glasses tipping down his nose before he pushed them back up. “You’re not even married yet.”
“Hudson’s a great dad. Amazing, really. I know you didn’t get to see much of that when Jamey was here, but he’s the best man I could have asked for to be the father of my baby.” I couldn’t fight back my grin as I imagined what would be our child in Hudson’s arms, him fast asleep on the couch with the baby tucked into his neck. I couldn’t wait for that to become a reality. “I’m more than ready too. I’ve wanted this for a while. I’m just really lucky that it all fell into my lap.”
“How far along are you?” Mom asked, searching for a bump where there was none.
“Five, six weeks maybe. We’re still in the danger zone so we haven’t really told anyone, just Hudson’s parents, you guys, and Lisa knows, too.”
Mom pursed her lips, letting out a sigh through her nostrils. “And you’re sure he’s the one? You know this isn’t exactly by the book.”
I laughed, squeezing her hand one more time for good measure. “I’m sure, Mom. I know it’s a little sooner than expected, but it doesn’t change anything. We love each other, and we’re getting married. I’m honestly thrilled. I just want you guys to be happy for us, you know?”
“Oh, honey…” That glassiness returned to her eyes as she wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into her paint-stained clothes anyway. “Of course we’re happy for you. We love you and I’m sure once we get to know Hudson more, we’ll love him too. And we’ll absolutely love that baby. We just want the best for you, sweetie, that’s all.”
The lump in my throat returned with a vengeance as the backs of my eyes started to burn. I watched my dad crack a smile over Mom’s shoulder, and for a moment, everything felt right. Everything I’d wanted was being handed to me on a silver platter. Approving parents, a baby, a successful business.
But as I pulled back, the weight of my words hit me like a freight train. We love each other. As much as I knew in my heart that I wanted that to be true, the heaviness returned, lashing me with one-sided fears and the idea that Hudson could never move on from the hurt he’d received. As much as I wanted him, as much as I knew it was becoming far too hard to hide, the likelihood of him returning those feeling seemed so small, so absolutely minuscule.
I had to remember that, even as my mind drifted back to the memories of the night before. Even as I thought about the note he’d written me, the one that hadn’t been any kind of declaration of love or fondness, but had been written with care beneath it, more care than he’d shown me before.
I had to keep my guard up. But I also couldn’t continue to pretend that was the right thing to do.
