Page 89 of Forecasting the Forward

“Oh!” she squeals. “Did you get us another guinea pig?”

“Yes …” I answer hesitantly as she carefully opens the lid. “Technically I got two. You know I have a thing for even numbers.”

“They are so adorable,” she gushes quietly. Looking at me, she asks, “have you already named them?”

“Well, I’ve named one. I wanted you to name the other one. The brown and black one needs a name, but the all white one, I’ve named —”

“Hyacinth,” she interrupts. “I know you. You named her Hyacinth.”

I do fucking love how this woman knows me, inside and out. “Her name is Hyacinth.”

To this day, I get Becca bouquets of white hyacinths fairly often, and she never tells me to stop.

“I think the brown and black one should be called Tulip,” Becca says. “I hope the rest of the girls are nice to them.”

“We’ll work on introducing everyone slowly, but for now, we’ll put the two newbies in their own cage.”

“That makes sense.” She looks up at me again, love shining in her eyes. “I don’t know why you decided to get me guinea pigs today, but thank you. I love them.”

I hesitate briefly before explaining what Ireallyneed to tell her. “I have something else I need to give you, and I’ll admit I’m a little freaked out about how you’re going to handle it.”

“Okay?” she responds with a light laugh. “You’re not going to unretire, are you?”

“No,” I chuckle. Our conversation in Miami made me acutely aware of my career, and whether or not I felt I’d achieved everything I’d set out to do. I realized quickly that I was pleased with what I’d done. I made the decision to retire at the end of that season, and I haven’t regretted it once. “My PI reached out to me. I never told you, but he continued to investigate your birth mother. He finally found some family of hers.”

“What?” she breathes, and I wince slightly as her eyes fill with tears. Fuck, I hate it when my wife cries.

“Yeah. She had a baby book for you, darlin’. She kept track of everything, even journaling a few times she saw you in public after she took you to your dad’s.”

“Oh my God,” Becca whispers as I pull the book out from behind my back. She reverently takes it from me, tracing the handwritten ‘Rebecca’ on the front. I watch as she carefully flips through the book, full of Polaroid pictures and tidbits about her newborn life.

“There’s something else, baby,” I tell her quietly, waiting until her eyes meet mine. “You have a sister.”

“What?” Tears cascade down her cheeks as she digests the information. “She had another baby?”

“A couple years after you were born. She just turned thirty-three. Her name is Emma, and she wants to meet you.”

“Really? She wants to meet me?”

“She does.”

“Does she still live in Detroit? Is she married? Does she have kids?” Becca peppers me with questions.

“She moved to Chicago. She is married, and I believe she’s currently pregnant with her first child,” I answer, but I’m surprised when Becca cries harder. “What’s going on in that head of yours? I didn’t think you’d be more upset.”

“I’m just so happy,” she cries. “Because it’s something I’ll get to share with her.”

“What?”

She gives me a watery smile as she places something in my hand. “Pregnancy.”

I stare down at the digital pregnancy test, the word ‘pregnant’ big and bold across the screen, and I forget how to breathe. “Pregnant? Really? We weren’t even really trying.”

She nods. “I’m as surprised as you. The OBGYN said it might take a while because of my age. I didn’t even realize my period was late until I got sick outside the station this morning. The food trucks didn’t smell good to the baby, I guess.”

I reach forward and tenderly touch her stomach. “There’s a baby in there.”

Becca nods again. “It’s surreal, isn’t it? I’m making a human.”

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