Page 35 of A Brilliant Spring

“Well,” she looks cautiously at Elissa. “When Harold died, things changed. We realized we didn’t need to be working ourselves to the point of exhaustion. Yes, we’re young and healthy. So there’s nothing to worry about there. We just want to enjoy our time.” My head shakes. I’m a little confused still.

“You two just bought this massive house. Don’t you think you should have downsized instead if you’re retiring?” My mom giggles.

“The house has nothing to do with our retiring. We wanted a new place and loved this one. That’s all. I don’t know why this is part of your argument.”

“But the bills must be astronomical!” I retort.

“Well, we have savings and our retirement,” she shrugs. “And we’re still going to be working at the hospital.” My head quirks, and I close my eyes, trying to concentrate on what she’s saying.

“So…you’re not quitting?”

“No. We’re retiring.”

“Same difference. How are you still working if you’re retiring?”

“We’re going to be working on-call only; help out when they need an extra hand.” My dad gets up off the couch, circles the counter, and opens the fridge to grab a beer. “What about you ladies? Anything new happening for you two?” Elissa turns to look at me, giving me stern eyes, and then they shift. I know what she’s mentally saying: “Now’s your chance, tell them.” Well, shit. My dad places the beer on the counter and circles his arms around my mom’s waist from behind, tugging her in close as he whispers something into her ear, making her smile wide. They sway together and then they both turn their attention back to us, waiting with eager eyes and ears. My heart pangs in my chest as I think about how Rhys and I could’ve been like that. The two of us, growing old together, raising a family together, retiring and spending time together. Elissa’s foot nudges mine and I take a deep breath and sigh. No time like the present. I brace myself against the counter.

“Well, there is something new…” I say, my hands fumbling and fiddling as I pick away at the edge of the granite. “I’m…pregnant.” My dad chuckles like it’s a joke, but my mom’s mouth drops open.

Chapter

Thirty-Two

Riley

My dad finally clues in that this isn’t a joke. His arms drop from my mom’s waist and he steps beside her. His face is ashen. My heart sinks like the Titanic. I can’t tell if they’re in shock, disappointed, or both. Probably both, if I had to guess. The room is silent and only the announcers from the hockey channel are chatting away in the background. A warm hand wraps around mine and squeezes, and I turn to look at Elissa gratefully.

“Mom? Dad?” I say weakly. My mom shakes her head in confusion. Her eyes are squinting and her nose is wrinkled.

“You’re…pregnant?” she says, not quite believing what I’m saying.

“Um…yep.” I stand and walk around the counter so they can see me clearly. I lift the soft blue Abercrombie & Fitch sweater up, revealing my tiny swollen belly. It looks more like I’m housing a taco baby in there, but it really is a baby. I look at my mom and dad with worried eyes and I hold my breath, waiting for them to say something. My dad is just standing there, stunned. My mom clasps her hands over her mouth and tears spring to her eyes. Chills wash over me and anxiety prickles at my skin while my heart stutters a few times in my chest.

“Please say something,” I say weakly, my voice breaking. I’m so scared. I knew this was going to happen. I knew they were going to be upset. My mom sidesteps my dad, heading straight for me. She falls to her knees in front of me, places her hand on my stomach, and I freeze. What the hell is going on? Her smooth hands caress my baby bump, and she rubs the entire surface of where the baby is growing, then sidles her head up against my stomach, and says in a low, soft tone, “Hi baby. I’m your Gramma.”

Tears form in my eyes and are seconds away from streaming down my face as I am doused in relief. Elissa was right. Elissa is always right. My mom is on her knees, talking to my belly and saying all kinds of cute, wonderful things about how much she already loves it. My lip quivers as I hold back my tears, and I look to my dad. His eyes are misty and his lips are pressed together in a tight line. His brows are furrowed, and he looks mad, but his face is otherwise soft and mushy. My dad looks so fragile right now. If anything else were to happen, he might just break.

“Daddy?” My voice is small, but it carries throughout the quiet room. He inhales a deep breath, and it stutters like he’s hyperventilating. His cheeks puff out and he’s holding his breath, and once he can’t hold it any longer, he lets it out as tears start rolling down his cheeks. He strides over to me, pulls my mom up to her feet, and encloses us both in a crushing embrace. I’ve never felt so loved and accepted as I do in this moment.

Elissa and I head to our rooms for the night shortly after my confession, because that long drive was tiring and I’m incredibly tired all the time. Growing a human is exhausting. And I know everyone says that, but holy fuck, is it ever true. The door clicks shut behind me and I drag my exhausted feet across the carpeted room to my suitcase, which my father has generously brought up to my room and set down on the bed. I extract some of my comfiest Roots heathered sweatpants and a soft, buttery sweater, then slip between the sheets of the bed, snuggling in deep.

•••

Sunlight streams into my room, warming my face. I groan, rolling over to look at the clock on the nightstand. It’s 10 AM already, and I still feel like a zombie. A light knock sounds on my door and my mother’s voice floats through the door.

“Riley, we have breakfast ready downstairs.”

“’Kay, Mom. Be down in a sec,” I respond groggily. My hands swipe the sleep from my eyes and I reach over and grab my phone off the nightstand. There’s a new message waiting from Rhys.

Rhys: Hey, can we meet up today and talk?

Another groan escapes my lips. Thankfully, we’re not in Toronto, and I don’t have to deal with him right now.

Me: I’m visiting my parents this weekend. Won’t be back for a few days. I guess we can talk then.

I chuck my phone back onto my nightstand and slide my ass out of bed, my socked feet planting firmly on the carpeted floor. I shuffle my way to the washroom, and I’m overwhelmed with the clean scent — it smells like waterfalls and chlorine. My feet make no noise as I glide across the tiled floor of the washroom and make use of the new en suite in my bedroom at my parents’ new house.

I wriggle into a bra and finger-comb my hair to detangle it before heading downstairs for breakfast. As I descend the stairs, I am met with the mouthwatering smells of bacon, scones, eggs, toast, and coffee. My parents are chatting away with Elissa and her bronze hair is tumbling down her back in loose, tangled, flat curls. Her legs are crossed at the ankle, hanging off the stool at the counter, one foot looping through the footrest. The room is dim, with only a few lights on overhead of the counter. I look to my left and the giant windows exhibit a gloomy, rainy day. That wasn’t part of the forecast.

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