Page 119 of Mom Ball

“I knew it!” She covers her mouth and shrieks.

“You didn’t know it.”

She moves her hands to the table. “May as well. I assumed it was him.”

A hissing sound comes from the kitchen counter and Aniston jerks her head that direction.

“That’s the coffee maker. Want anything?”

She flicks a caramel cappuccino K-cup my way. “But don’t change the subject. Spill the tea while you make the coffee.”

“Promise you won’t tell a soul? I haven’t told Timothy, or anyone else. We’re waiting on the right time and way to do it.”

She makes a cross motion over her head, torso, and shoulders.

I stand with her chosen flavor and start the machine as I give the facts only, not the detailed version of our last day together, taking a pregnancy test about a month later, and how I hid the father’s identity.

“You should’ve told him. It would’ve turned out just fine.”

“That’s what he said last night.” I groan and slide the coffee mug toward her.

“Thanks.”

I nod and choose a vanilla pod for me.

“Everyone will be happy.”

“I know, but you’re missing the point.”

“What?” She sips her cappuccino, then widens her eyes. “Let’s see. The father of your child is the love of your life, who also happens to be rich, handsome, and athletic. Oh, and he and the boy love each other already. What could go wrong?”

I wait on my coffee to drain into the mug, then join her at the table. “You didn’t see his face. I hurt him more than I ever could’ve thought. It was horrific. And can you imagine delivering life-altering news to people you love?”

She clears her throat. “You mean like when I told Willow and Carter they would have to live with me because their parents died instantly in a plane crash?”

“Sorry.” I stare at the table.

She touches my arm. “Hey, I wasn’t meaning that as a jab against you. I’m just saying sometimes we have to say the hard things.” She sighs. “Morgan was actually the one who had to tell them their parents died.”

“Yeah.” I stare at the tablecloth, remembering when that happened.

“It will be hard, but you’ll get through it.” Aniston gives my arm a squeeze before letting go. “There’s no way I could’ve kept this a secret eight years.”

I sit up and glare at her.

She lifts her hands. “I can now. I mean if I were you and it were me, and I had a kid.”

“I understand.” I allow my face to soften. “It was hard keeping it from my parents, but I suspect they know. They’ve always been supportive and never condemned or shamed me either. That made it easier.” I slump down in the chair and glance out the window. “Nate coming back and living a mile away made it hard.”

“I bet.” Aniston sips her drink, then licks her top lip.

“There were days I wanted to tell him, even before we got involved again. It never seemed like the right time.” I swallow some coffee to soothe my scratchy throat, then continue. “Last night we were walking in a familiar place, drinking familiar coffee, and talking about the past. It was too much pressure to keep it all in.”

“You did the right thing.”

“I hope so.”

“You did.” Aniston sets her mug on the table and leans closer. “There’s a reason they say the truth hurts, and sometimes it also hurts the person giving the truth.”

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