Page 306 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 1

A round of greetings is followed by us sitting down at the table and placing our drink orders. I order another sparkling water, and Harrison orders the same. A little squeeze of my leg under the table follows. Before he pulls away, I grab it, holding it like a security blanket.

“No vodka or wine?” my mom asks.

“No, I have an early meeting tomorrow, and I want to get up to work out.” That’s too much information. Rambling is always a dead giveaway to a lie. It doesn’t have to be a lie, though. I could work out. I need to.

My dad says, “Happy Birthday. Has it been a nice day?”

“I had a lovely day yesterday. The office celebrated. Harrison and I decided to celebrate with you since we were seeing you guys today.”

“I’m not a guy, Tatum,” my mom says, hot on my heels about the slang. Her attention turns to Harrison. “Weren’t you at the Christiansen’s anniversary party?”

Harrison answers confidently, “Yes, I was there. Nick and I grew up together. We weren’t introduced unfortunately, so it’s nice to finally meet you.”

My mom leans forward, her eyes studying him. “You and Tatum were not together at the dinner, from what I remember. But you did go running after her.”

Glancing at me, Harrison smiles, self-assured and ready to slay the dragon. “I didn’t run after her. I was checking on her well-being.” He gave her more than that rude question deserved.

“You are the other godparent.” A little laugh escapes her.

“I am.”

My dad jumps in the fray. “You’ve been dating him since then?”

“Officially,” Harrison replies. “But I’ve wanted to be with your daughter from the moment we met.”

“And when was that?” my mom asks.

I say, “Almost five years ago. We met in Catalina at the same time as Nick and Natalie.”

“The baby news is wonderful. They are such a lovely couple. Don’t you think?”

I say, “Of course, we think so, Mom. They’re our best friends.”

The drinks are delivered, and everybody takes a sip at the same time, like returning to your corner in the middle of a boxing match. I’ll refresh and then get pumped up for the next round.

My dad delivers the next punch. “A new relationship and a birthday. A lot of pressure comes with that, Harrison. What did you get Tatum for her birthday? She has very expensive tastes.”Oh he did not just go there.

Leaning forward, Harrison replies, “Well, sir, I haven’t given her the present yet. I was waiting until we got back to the apartment.”

I could worry about the small details like him telling my parents he’s coming home with me. But tonight, I have bigger fish to fry. We’ve gotten over one hump with that meeting my new boyfriend. I’m thinking we should wait until after the main course to tell them about the baby. I wish Harrison and I had discussed when to drop the bombshell before we got here.

My parents seem to be in top form—aloof, quick with the judgments, and ready to take advantage of any shortcoming that presents itself. Basically, just like my childhood.

We order our food, and the conversation veers toward lighter topics, ones more suitable for their moods, like their travels and what they’re planning for the holidays still six months away.

An envelope slides across the table during dessert. I don’t need to open it to know what it is, but I do, putting on the show for them, like a blank check will ever make up for my lost childhood. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“What do you think you’re buying with it?” my mom asks.

“I’m not sure. Something special.”Maybe, this birthday’sgiftwill go toward my baby.Right now, I don’t want to tell them. I don’t want to gift them with this beautiful news.

But my nerves are starting to get the better of me again.I don’t even think I can eat dessert.I look at Harrison for assurance and find it in the depth of his blue eyes.

I fold the check and put it in my clutch before I find Harrison’s hand under the table again. This is the moment. The one when I tell my parents they’re about to become grandparents.

“Mom? Dad? Harrison and I would like to tell you something important.”

My mom is onto us, her eyes looking back and forth between us like she’s watching Wimbledon. “Why build it up? Just say it.”

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