Page 71 of Before You Go

“Hey, big guy.” I tip my head back and smile up at him. “Were you able to get some work done?”

“A little.” His fingers skim along my jaw.

“Dayton, I need a favo—” Dad starts, and I spin my head around and hold up my hand.

“Don’t even think about asking him.”

“Ask me what?” Dayton questions, his fingers still at my jaw.

“I brought you lunch,” Mom says, walking in, and Dad groans quietly.

“Better luck next time.” I laugh.

“What’s going on?” Mom asks, and I start to open my mouth to tell her that her husband is attempting to talk people into bringing him food, but Dad cuts in before I can.

“I was just telling Francisca how grateful I am that you’ve been taking such good care of me and looking out for my diet since we got home.”

“You do know that after thirty-six years of marriage, I can tell when you’re lying, right?” Mom places the tray she’s holding on his bedside table. “And I hope you’re not trying to bribe everyone who comes to visit into bringing you food. Jacob already told me that you said you’d give him a thousand dollars if he brought you a burger and fries.”

“Why does Jacob get offered a thousand dollars, but I don’t?” I get up and take Dayton’s hand, urging him to take my seat, then plant myself on his lap. His hand instantly covers the bump that seems to be growing by the day.

“Because I know you can’t be bought.” Dad carefully sits up as Mom adjusts the back of his bed using the remote.

“I might have been more inclined to sneak you food if you did offer me money. Now, I guess you’ll never know if you could have had a cheeseburger.”

“No one is sneaking you anything.” Mom glares at him as she moves the tray around so that it’s over Dad’s lap. “And you’re never having a cheeseburger again. The doctors made it abundantly clear that you need a complete lifestyle change, so this is it. Suck it up and enjoy.”

“Okay, honey,” Dad agrees, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite.

I fight back a smile. Mom might be the only person on the planet that Dad is afraid of, and it’s hilarious to watch the two of them. After chewing and swallowing, Dad’s eyes move to Dayton, and his gaze drops to where Dayton has his hand resting on my stomach. When Dad was finally coherent enough to talk about the fact that I’m pregnant, he told me that he’s excited. I’m not sure that would have been his response if he hadn’t had a near-death experience, but I was relieved that he didn’t use the word “disappointed” and that he wasn’t upset with Mom for keeping the news from him. I was also relieved that neither he or mom blamed me for his heart attack when my news felt like the catalyst for it.

“So, when are you two getting married?” Dad asks casually.

“Before the baby’s born,” Dayton replies at the exact same time I say, “We’re not.”

Turning to look at him over my shoulder, I frown. “What did you say?”

“Before the baby’s born, we’ll get married.” He says it as if it’s something we decided a year ago.

“We’re not getting married.” I laugh.

“We should,” he responds, and my expression turns to one of confusion.

“No, we shouldn’t.”

“Why not?” Dayton asks like I’m the one who said I never, ever wanted to get married and had a vasectomy, not him.

“Are you serious right now?” I scan his face, but his expression is unwavering, which gives me pause.

“Yeah.”

I blink. “You’ve never even had a girlfriend, and all of a sudden, you want to get married?”

“I think it would be smart.” He shrugs.

“Smart?”

Is this conversation really happening? I glance over at my mom and dad, and they both look totally invested in the topic while I’m beginning to get annoyed.

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