Page 48 of Not My Finest Hour

Fern continues unpacking the groceries. “Thank you for all of this. This will definitely get us through the week and then some.”

“If anyone needs me, I’ll be in the living room watching TV,” Dad says, poking his head in the kitchen. He’s smart to stay out of the kitchen because once Mom gets started cooking, she’s a force to be reckoned with. And she can be a little demanding at times which can lead to some tension. The two of them have a rule: he stays out of her kitchen, and she stays out of his garage.

Fern and I don’t fare as well as Dad and end up helping Mom with dinner. That basically involves her telling us what to do, then she critiques us, and sometimes takes over for us depending on the task. But eventually, we manage to get dinner together and even get a blueberry crisp in the oven for dessert.

When it’s time for us to eat, Mom portions out some for everyone right at the stove. Fern and I don’t take the time to set the table because there’s really no need to with this very casual meal. Fern takes everyone’s bowls to the table while I go and fetch Dad. He’s snoozing on the couch when I enter, and so I don’t startle him too badly, I give him a gentle nudge on the shoulder. His eyelids flutter open.

“Oh, hey, honey. What can I do for you?” he says, a sleepy grin on his face.

“It’s time to eat.”

My dad’s ability to fall asleep in an instant still amazes me to this day. It’s like a gift of his or something. I swear when we were kids, we’d ask him to watch a movie with us and within minutes of the movie starting, he was out. His job had him up early, so I’m sure that had something to do with it, but there have been many nights recently where I wish I had the ability to do that. Too many thoughts running through my head have wrecked my sleep.

Dad stretches, then gets up from the couch and follows me into the kitchen. Mom looks at the half-awake expression on his face and chuckles to herself.

“You fell asleep, didn’t you?” she asks. He just nods.

While we’re eating, Fern keeps looking my way, probably trying to figure out when I’m going to spill my news. I was thinking during dessert would be the best time because I have a feeling that when I tell them, Mom is going to be beside herself and abandon her dinner. And she’s going to have all the questions… So yeah, I think I should wait until everyone has finished their meal.

But when we’re halfway through dessert and I still haven’t said anything, Fern’s casual looks my way have turned into all-out stares. And hell, I think at one point she glared at me.

Mom sets her spoon down and looks over at Fern. “Fern, what is wrong with you? Why do you keep looking at your sister?”

Maybe this was Fern’s plan all along. Keep drawing attention toward me, and then maybe I’d finally say something.

Fine. I’ll just get it out in the open now so we can move on. “She keeps staring at me because she knows I have news to share.”

Fern mouths, “Sorry,” at me.

Mom and Dad look over at me, and the seconds that tick by seem like hours. This is much harder to get out than I thought. I can’t seem to find the right words, and there’s really no way to eloquently say what I need to say.

“What is it, honey?” Dad asks, sensing my distress.

“I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to come out with it.” Everyone’s eyes are on me. Mom looks downright worried and Dad looks confused. Meanwhile, Fern is smiling at me and kind of nodding, like she wants me to just say it. It’s like she’s giving me a confidence boost from across the table. “I’m pregnant. You two are going to be grandparents.”

I wait for the words to register with my parents. Mom speaks first.

“Are you serious?” she asks, her expression hopeful.

“When did this happen? Who is he?” Dad asks, a twinge of anger in his tone.

Other than Fern, no one has met or heard of Justin, so they probably think this happened out of the blue. I mean, it kind of did, but there’s more to it than that. My dad is a traditional kind of guy, so he probably thought he was going to go to a wedding first, and then grandkids would come later.

Mom senses Fern’s unusual calmness and picks up on the fact that she hasn’t said anything. “Fern, did you know about this?”

Fern nods. “I found out yesterday, but don’t think she kept you two in the dark for too long. She just found out this weekend.”

“And have you met this guy?” Dad asks, still grumbling that he hasn’t met Justin yet.

“Yes, he’s been over a few times. He’s great, and I think you’d like him,” Fern says, coming to my rescue. At least now they know that Justin isn’t some random stranger off the street who knocked me up.

“He’s going to have some explaining to do.” Dad crosses his arms, letting everyone in the room know that he’s not happy with this situation.

Mom nudges him and tells him to hush. “You know, I really thought it’d be Fern and Brett who would have kids first, so this is quite a shock.”

“I know. It’s a shock for me too,” I say.

“But don’t think for one second that I’m not thrilled to be expecting a grandchild,” Mom says, reaching across the table for my hand. She gives it a gentle squeeze and her gaze meets mine. “Whatever you need, we’re here for you.”

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