Page 6 of Over and Above

“I’m sorry.” Appropriately repentant, Eric hunkered down, chin almost touching his empty shot glass.

“And the answer is no. The first question Diesel asked me was how to support Maren’s decision. I told him to simply keep loving her, whatever choice she made. But she’s been pretty adamant from the start that she’s keeping the baby no matter what.”

“I’ve gathered that.” Eric’s voice was burned-toast crisp, but his pained eyes kept me sympathetic.

“Since that’s what she wants, Diesel wants to be involved as much as possible.” My pride at how he was stepping up laced my words. Like Eric, I wasn’t exactlyhappy,but I was proud of my kid. And lord knew the situation didn’t need Eric and me trying to out miserable each other. “Diesel loves Maren, and I think that’s a big part of his excitement. He wants a life with her.”

“They’re kids.” Groaning, Eric rested his head on his hands.

“I wasn’t much older than him when Diesel’s mom sprung the news on me.”

Eyes widening, Eric opened his mouth. From anyone else, I might expect a crack about the strength of my bloodline’s swimmers, but here, I braced for a parenting-related judgment.

I held up a hand. “Think before your next comment, please.”

“Sorry. Continue.”

“It was a far different situation in that Flo was never the most stable person to begin with, nor were we particularly serious.” Those were massive understatements, but Eric didn’t need my life story that minute. “But when the paternity test said my name, I stepped up, and I expect Diesel to do the same. And I’m going to give him the one thing Flo and I never had.”

“What’s that?”

“Support.” I bent so he had no choice but to meet my gaze. I could be easygoing and charming all day long, but when I meant business, people knew it.

“Oh.” Eric’s mouth made a pained circle. He briefly closed his eyes, then opened them, voice becoming more resolute. “I want to be supportive. I do. I’m just not sure where to start.”

“You start the same place we all do: you love your kid.”

“Of course.” Eric looked two seconds away from one of Maren’s classic eye rolls. He and Maren weren’t biologically related, but they shared almost as many mannerisms as Diesel and I did. “But it’s still hard.”

“I wasn’t done.” I let my voice be stern because maybe Eric needed a little sternness right then. “And then you respect that your kids get to make their own choices. Their own missteps. Live their own lives. I wouldn’t have chosen this path for either of them.”

“I know.” Eric groaned again, so I kept right on being the firmness he and the situation seemed to need. There’d be time enough for soft words and touches later.

“But this is what’s happening.” I brought him a basket of house-made chips and another shot of tequila. “And you and I are going to be?—”

“Don’t say it.” He slugged back the shot, grimacing so hard I had to chuckle.

“Grandpas. And I speak from experience here that if you keep acting like Maren’s making the biggest mistake of her life, you will only drive her away faster.”

“I know.” Eric’s lower lip wobbled.

“Hey.” I reached out and touched Eric’s forearm. “It’s going to be okay. It is. But I’m going to tell you something Diesel never would. His mom used to talk all the time about how getting pregnant was such a mistake. An accident. I had to work time-and-a-half to get that kid to see he’s the biggest blessing of my life. Don’t do that to your future grandkid.”

“My future…” Eric trailed off, expression going from worried to hurt to downright dumbfounded. “We really are going to be grandpas, aren’t we?”

“Yep.” I dearly hoped the universe had some larger plan at work here to throw Eric and me together like this because being co-grandparents with someone who so obviously disliked me would be less than fun.

Chapter Four

Eric

“July is the worst month for morning sickness.” Maren sat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, two weeks removed from her big announcement. The entire household now revolved around her nausea. Which, honestly, I was okay with because it kept the focus off the bigger questions about the future. In the present moment, we were all trying to help Maren make it through the first trimester.

“More like all-day sickness.” Wren gestured at the clock over the stove. In the summer, our family schedule tended to get mixed up, but it was after lunchtime by most measures. I’d come off a shift at six a.m. and really should have been sleeping, but worry over Maren pushed me to stay awake. Wren fetched a pitcher of greenish-brown liquid from the fridge, helpfully labeledFor Marenas if the rest of us might be tempted to steal it. “Have you tried the tea I created?”

“No offense, Wren, but that looks like swamp juice and smells even worse.” Maren wrinkled her nose and waved away the pitcher of tea.

“It’s based on scientific studies about the merits of ginger and other herbs versus prescription anti-nausea meds in the first trimester.” Disregarding Maren’s refusal, Wren poured a glass of tea anyway and set it in front of Maren.

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