Page 43 of Seasoned
Adelaide pulled pasta and fresh tomatoes out of the bag. “Tell Monica I’m sorry, but I’m not looking for any more children at the moment. Well, I might be in the market for a new daughter if my current daughter doesn’t act right and stop calling me with unwarranted concerns about my mental health.”
“Ha, ha. I call because I love you.”
The chime of the security monitor snagged her attention. Adelaide set the tomatoes in a bowl on the counter and checked the screen. “Danny’s here. He’s parking his car.”
“Let me talk to the little knucklehead.”
“Hold on.”
Daniel was home for the summer and would be entering his sophomore year once classes resumed in the fall. Exiting the gray Nissan, he looked dispirited with his shoulders slouched, hands shoved into his jeans, and his head bent. His head full of curly hair appeared much more disheveled than when he’d left the house earlier to go see his girlfriend.
He entered the kitchen.
“Hey, honey.”
Dull eyes met hers. Something was wrong.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Karen’s on the phone. She wants to say hi.”
Adelaide handed over the phone and proceeded to finish unpacking the groceries while listening to Daniel’s end of the conversation and keeping an eye on him. He only offered monosyllabic responses to Karen’s enthusiastic chatter, and their conversation ended around the same time she finished putting away the groceries.
“What do you want for dinner? You can have meatloaf or meatloaf.” She grinned, expecting her attempt at humor to elicit a smile, but none came. Sad brown eyes met hers. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
“Promise you won’t get mad.”
Conversations that started with those kinds of requests were not a good sign.
“I can’t promise that.”
“Never mind then.” Daniel ducked his head and turned to walk away.
Adelaide quickly closed the distance between them and grabbed his arm. “Danny, what’s going on? Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he mumbled, attempting to squeeze past her.
Adelaide blocked his escape and placed a hand on her hip. “Well, we’re going to talk about it. What don’t you want me to get upset about? Look at me.”
He lifted his gaze and his jaw settled into a firm line. He looked so much like his father then—a younger, darker version with curlier hair, but the same mouth, nose, and brown eyes.
“Nothing. I’ll figure it out myself.”
Right then, Adelaide decided that whatever the problem, she’d do her best to help him through it. Her voice gentled. “Danny, if you’re in some kind of trouble, you need to tell me so I can help.”
He blinked rapidly and then roughly wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his denim jacket.
“Please, what’s wrong, baby?” She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“I messed up, Mom.” He lifted his gaze.
He’d messed up before, and she hoped they’d be able to overcome this particular screwup—whatever it was—like they had all the others.
“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out. How did you mess up?” Her stomach tightened as she waited for his answer.
“Jamie’s pregnant,” he whispered, dropping his gaze to the tiled floor.
Adelaide gasped and her heart sank. “Jamie’s what?”
