Page 38 of Seven of Hearts

“Because I’m pregnant,” I said firmly.

“You’rewhat?”

I spun at the sound of another woman’s voice, and my jaw dropped.

Joanne, my ex-girlfriend, stood at the entrance to the kitchen, looking absolutely shell-shocked.

The wine glass in my mom’s hand shattered on the counter. “You had better be joking. And if you are, it’s certainly not funny, Leah.”

“Why is she here?” I said, spinning on Joanne to face my mother.

“Because I invited her,” she said as she pressed her hands to her flaming cheeks.

“You invited my ex to join us for dinner?” I said with a caustic laugh.

Joanne raised her hands in defense. “I had no idea you were going to be here. Dr. Holloway invited me over to discuss positions we need to hire for at the office.”

“I can certainly invite whomever I please for dinner atmyhouse,” Mom clipped, cutting her off. “Joanne and I were having a lovely conversation at the office on Friday, and I suggested she come over tonight.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I asked you onThursdayif we could get together. So you invited her after we made plans because you knew I’d be here?”

I had been devastated after Joanne and I ended our six-year relationship. My mother had taken it even harder. Frankly, I had a feeling she loved my ex more than me.

“I should go,” Joanne said.

“Yes, you should,” I said at the very moment my mother said, “No. Stay.”

Since Joanne had already heard the big news, there was no sense in beating around the bush. “Mom, this was something I wanted to discuss with you and Dadprivately.”

Mom shook her head at me and looked over my shoulder at Joanne. “You see what I’m talking about? It’s that fear of vulnerability that she can’t conquer. I’m not quite sure where it came from.”

Ah yes. Reason 1,352 that Joanne and I broke up. She and my mother would psychoanalyze me in their respective ways. My mother, as a psychologist, and my ex, as a therapist.

“I’m leaving,” I said in disbelief.

My mother huffed. “You and Joanne just needed a nudge in the right direction, and I’m more than happy to facilitate. Leah, you mask your need for companionship and intimacy through performative self-sufficiency. I think it’s time you two work out your differences. You were so good together.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “This is absurd.”

Mom grabbed a tea towel and began to clear the shattered glass from the countertop. “That’s why you have independent pursuits that only require your skill set, and not a partner’s help. Tell me—what furniture piece are you working on this week? Frankly, I’m surprised you could get pregnant. That takes two people.”

Each word was more cutting than the last.

“I didn’t know,” Joanne silently mouthed with a shake of her head. “Dr. Holloway, I appreciate the invitation for dinner, but I’m going to let you all discuss Leah’s...newsprivately.”

I raged silently as Joanne let herself out. I hadn’t expected this to go over well, but I certainly hadn’t anticipated this nightmare.

“Leah, darling, tell me you’re joking,” my dad said when the house quieted.

“I’m not joking,” I whispered as tears welled in my eyes. I knew not to crave a hug. They weren’t the type. In place of affection, they had expectations. I rummaged around in my purse and pulled out the latest ultrasound photo. “The baby’s due at the beginning of March,” I said as I wiped away a tear. “I’m fifteen weeks along.”

My dad huffed and left the room.

“How did this happen?” Mom asked with a bite of annoyance in her voice. “Well, I suppose we both knowhowit happens, though I thought I raised you to be smarter than that. I should be askingwhoit happened with. I was not aware that you were in a relationship.”

“And yet you invited my ex over for dinner without telling me. Thanks for the ambush,” I snapped. “Joke’s on you. There’s no way in hell we’d get back together now. Joanne didn’t want kids. I do. She didn’t want to actually get married. I did. There are actually good reasons why people break up that don’t have to do with my personality deficits that you like to point out all the goddamn time.”

She raised a warning eyebrow at my language. “Who’s the father?”

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