Page 64 of Sweet Twins For My Brother's Best Friend

I try to think of myself as a mom. What kind of mom would I be? Would I always be available to answer on the first ring, too?

I want to have at least enough money to provide for my kids. I sleep on a futon in my office. Panic swells in my throat. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Mom,” I choke out. “I have to tell you something, but I’m scared.”

“Hannah, what’s wrong?” she repeats, her voice firm. “Tell me right now.”

I can see her now, standing up from wherever she is, slapping my dad’s forearm.

“I don’t know how it happened, but Chris and I…Tyler’s best friend…we, and I might be pregnant, I probably am!”

I’m wailing now, and I know I’m making no sense, but I can’t stop, spit pooling on my shirt as I sob openly.

“Baby girl, this doesn’t seem like something we should talk about over the phone. Right?”

“I don’t know,” I respond earnestly, wiping spit off my lips with the back of my hand.

“Maybe you should come over. It’ll be okay.”

“I can’t, I can’t.”

“Well, then, I’ll come to you.”

“No! I just had to get it out.Pleasedon’t tell Tyler. Not yet.”

“Hannah…”

“Mom.”

“Is that it? You’re just going to drop that bomb and go? I can’t say anything and that’s that?”

“I’ll come over tomorrow, how about that?”

“Oh, Hannah. I don’t know what to do for you. And that’s the worst feeling a mom can have. Okay, baby, you be safe. I love you.”

I hang up, a weight lifted off my chest, though I know I just gave the weight to my mother instead.

And isn’t that what moms are for?

To help shoulder the weight when it gets too heavy?

Is that the kind of mom I would be? And once I am a mother, do I cease being a daughter? What do I owe tomymom?

I call her back, and she answers faster than the first ring, it seems, picking it up at thethoughtof me calling her.

“Hannah? Did you change your mind?”

I sigh, not sure if I’ll regret my next words.

“Yes. I’ll send you the address. And can you please bring some dog food for Lucy?”

Chapter Twenty Eight

Christopher

I stand in the soup aisle, poring over the multitude of options. I want to get Hannah exactly what she wants.

It’s so endearing that she even wants soup at all, that she’d rather have that than a home cooked meal.

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