Page 62 of Sebastian's Baby

Mom looks back at Lita. “Lolita, is it?”

“Yes, but I go by Lita,” she smiles at her.

“Sebastian, you should go talk to your father. I’ll get to know Lita better.”

I know I’m being dismissed, but Mom already seems to have started warming to Lita, so I guess I should go take my punishment like a good boy. I don’t do it intentionally, but I lean over and kiss Lita before I stand up from the sofa. She looks at me with wide eyes, and I smile encouragingly at her before I turn to leave the room.

I walk away from them and hope that Mom isn’t too harsh with Lita as I head toward Dad’s study. I’m reminded of Lita saying that it’s weird how we can be scared of our parents at this age, but she’s not wrong. I feel like I’m fifteen again and disappointing Dad after sneaking out of the house to go to a party with my new friends.

But now I’m almost twice that age, and there’s a baby involved. The stakes are just a little bit higher, I guess.

I knock on the door, and Dad says, “Come in.”

“Can we talk?” I ask as I enter his study.

He’s sitting at his desk, in front of his computer with his emails open on the screen, and he pushes his chair back before spinning to look at me.

“Yes, I guess we should.”

I take a seat in an armchair by a bookshelf on the opposite wall and look at him as he frowns back at me.

“I’m sorry that I’m such a disappointment to you.” I shrug my shoulders.

“Sebastian, come on. You know that isn’t entirely true. I’m very proud of you and everything you’ve accomplished. No parent wouldn’t be proud of that.”

It’s nice to hear him say it because he doesn’t say it often, that’s for sure.

“But there are parts of your life that I am disappointed by. As a parent, of course I dislike seeing you go off the rails. You don’t talk to us or tell us what you’re doing. So all I see are these pictures of you with woman after woman and wild rumors about the things you’ve been getting up to. I’ve hoped you were being safe, but it looks like you weren’t. I don’t know what to say. You’re a grown man acting like a child a lot of the time.”

Shame washes over me, and I can see how it looks to them. We never really talk about my life, and I’ve never had a problem with it, not even when Dad would make comments about things he’d read. I’d just blow them off and change the subject.

“I have been safe,” I assure him. “I’ve never even gotten an STD.” I remember Dr. Helmsley’s advice and thank whatever higher power kept that from happening. “As I said before, the condom broke with Lita. It was an accident, and we considered whether or not to go through with it, but we decided to keep the baby.”

He frowns at me. “I see. Lolita says you’re not dating?” I nod. “So, what are your plans for custody? Visitation? How do you see this working?”

I’m frustrated because it’s not something that I know myself. “We don’t exactly know yet, Dad. We’ll make it work, though. I have plenty of money to support her and the baby.”

“Do you think this is about money?”

He raises his eyebrows at me, and I glare at him as anger courses through me.

“No.”

He raises his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I had to ask the question, Sebastian. I mean…”

He trails off, and I take a deep breath of air, then blow it out slowly.

“Rest assured, Lita has nottrappedme in a pregnancy. This was unplanned, and she has been amazing throughout it all, even when I’ve been a dick about things.”

“I see.” He’s silent for about ten seconds before he says, “Well, I suppose I should go back and talk to this woman if she really is going to be the mother of my grandchild.” He shakes his head in apparent amazement as he turns to lock his computer.

Realistically, this is probably about as good as I could’ve expected this conversation to go. When we walk back into the sitting room, Lita looks up and smiles at me. She doesn’t look overly stressed, and I’m glad. I take a seat next to her and link my hand with hers again.

We talk for about half an hour before Mom makes us lunch, and both my parents seem to have accepted Lita. She charms them completely with her quick wit, and Mom talks to her for a solid fifteen minutes about Tomato Sauce Day before inviting her to come and visit any time she’s back in Chicago.

As I pull the car out of my parents’ driveway and start the drive to Galena, I ask Lita, “What did you think of my parents, princess?”

“They’re very nice. I’m glad that’s done, though; I don’t think I’ve ever been more nervous in my life,” she laughs.

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