Page 47 of Embers in Our Past

“Wow, what a nice surprise,” I respond. My nerves are multiplied because I had everything timed out as I was going to tell them I was pregnant, then Clay would show up shortly after. I sort of needed a little safety net per se. Now I have a lot of time from now until he gets here.Shit.

I’m not great at fibbing. They’ll sniff out there’s something more to my reason for asking them out here. I remember in high school, I attempted to lie when I’d go out with friends when I told them I was studying, and it was always a disaster. I once concocted such an elaborate lie that started with studying at my friend's house and ended with us at the circus. I was grounded for three weeks for that whopper.

“Are you going to let us in? We want to see this place,” my mother says.

“Of course. Sorry, where are my manners?” I say, my nerves getting the better of me already.

I motion them inside, and they walk through the foyer and into the apartment.

I notice they don’t have their bags. “Where is your luggage?”

“Oh, we already checked into the hotel and got our stuff in our room. We arrived hours ago and already showered. I had to freshen up,” my mother says as she takes the place in.

“Wow. Did you take a red-eye or something?” Because that’s quite an early flight in.

“Yes. We thought it would be easier for us to settle with the jet lag and all,” my mom replies as she takes in the surroundings, stopping at the window to take in the view.

“This view is incredible. The pictures don’t do it justice.” I can’t argue with her there.

“I know. I could stand here for hours,” I tell her as I walk up to the window right by her side.

I can tell she’s looking at me, not at the view.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on? We know something is bothering you. I told your father we had to get over here quickly because our girl needed us. We are here for you. Do you need to come home? We can help you get home, sweetie,” she says, rubbing my back. “If you’re second-guessing your decision, there is no shame in that. We can pack things up, no questions asked.”

“Collette, don’t smother the girl. She is doing fine. I told you she’s fine. Look at her. She’s glowing. She seems to be managing well on her own,” my dad says while standing on my mother’s other side.

Yes, Dad, I’m glowing because I’m growing a human. Obviously, I don’t say that out loud, but I sure think it.

“Well, yes, Daddy’s right. I am doing well, but there is something I wanted to talk to you about,” I tell them.

“Is it the business, Abby?” She swings her gaze toward my father. “Rick, I told you I thought something was going on with her company.” My mom’s concern is etched all over her face. I hold back the urge to roll my eyes because my mom can be quite dramatic.

“No, it has nothing to do with the company,” I say.

“What is it, honey? Don’t worry, we’re here to help, whatever it is.” My mother grabs my hands, and I can feel her slight tremble. She’s so nervous, and I feel bad she’s so concerned. I decide to rip the Band-Aid off.

“I’m, um, pregnant.” I give them a tentative smile like I’m a teenager and sort of feel like one at the moment.

They both look at me with bewildered expressions, and silence stretches for minutes that feel like hours.

Eventually, they speak at the exact same time.

“I’m sorry, what?” That comes from my mother, while my father asks, “Who’s the father?”

“Clay’s the father, and I’m pregnant.” I shrug my shoulders.

Again, they both stare at me. Because nothing is quite going the way I planned, another knock sounds at my door. Who the hell is it now?

I leave my two shell-shocked parents standing near the window and walk to the front door.

I look through the peephole and find two of the last people I expect to see waiting on the other side. I swing the door open, somewhat relieved to see their smiling faces.

“Hey, so sorry to bother you while you’re probably running around preparing for your parents to arrive, but he forgot his house keys somewhere, so I thought I’d grab them. He got all the way home and noticed they weren’t in his pocket. I was nearby, so I told him I’d grab them.” He swings his gaze up and sees my parents standing behind me.

“Oh, hey, Mr. and Mrs. Morris.” River waves while Kennedy smiles by his side.

“You son-of-a-bitch!” my father declares and starts storming over to the door.

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