Page 19 of The Jackpot Screwer
“What about your business?” Dad asked, mid pace. “You’ve worked hard, Dayton Valley ladies were not known for their high grooming standards until you started up.”
“I’ve always kept myself tidy,” Mom chipped in, the first words she’d spoken since we’d walked through the door. “But Dad is right. What about the salon?”
I rolled my eyes. “Women can be mothers and businesswomen at the same time you know. I don’t have to be chained to the kitchen sink.”
“We know, honey,” Mum sighed. “But you have to understand this is a big shock to us. And to find out that way.”
“You’re not kidding,” Dad cried. “I’m not ready to even believe you’re out of your training bra yet.”
“Well, hate to break it to you, Dad, but I had a twenty-fifth birthday a week ago.”
And hadn’t that been as dull as Henry’s bone. Just a family dinner where I’d pretended to have a migraine as an excuse why I hadn’t gone out partying with Ellie.
“Doesn’t mean I’m ready for my baby to have a baby.” Dad threw his hands in the air and went back to pacing.
“Who’s having a baby?”
Austen, my little brother, appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, rubbing a hand through his dark blond bed hair. His pajama pants were halfway up his legs and his top was pulled tight across his chest. He’d filled out and shot up over the last couple of months and was growing out of his cute boyish features and looking more like our brother, Shaw; tall and handsome.
We all stared at him, no sound except for that of our breathing.
“What are you doing up, honey?” Mom asked, standing and going to him. “You were fast asleep when we got home.”
“Yeah, only because you made me have a sitter and do you know how boring Patty Donahue is? She bored me to sleep.” He pretended to yawn which made me laugh, but he was right, Patty Donahue was boring. She collected pencils for goodness sake.
“Well at least we know you weren’t doing anything you shouldn’t be,” Dad said with a grunt. “Unlike your sister.”
“Dad!”
He threw his arms up. “But you have.”
“No, I haven’t,” I protested. “Having sex is the most natural thing in the world. You and Mom have had sex.”
“Ugh,” Austen groaned. “Please don’t.”
“Honey, you know what sex is?” Mom asked, running a hand down my brother’s hair.
“Duh. I’m fifteen.”
“You’re fourteen, son,” Dad corrected.
“Fourteen, fifteen, it’s practically the same,” Austen said with a shoulder shrug. “But yes, Mom, I do know what sex is. We have sex ed at school and like I said, I’m fifteen.”
“Have you had sex?” Mom asked.
Austen slammed his hands over his face. “Oh my God, Mom. No, just don’t ask me that.”
“Austen,” Dad growled in a warning tone. “Please tell me that you’ve not done anything stupid.”
I started to giggle. “Really, does he look like he’d know what to do?”
The three of us stared at him in his Transformer pjs with his hot chocolate moustache.
“Yeah, you kind of have a point,” Dad sighed and turned to Mom. “I think we’re good with kid number three providing us with any surprises of the baby nature, Darce.”
Mom gave a sigh of relief. “Okay, honey. You need to get back to bed. We have to speak to Bronte about some things.”
“Have you had sex with Carter?” Austen asked, his eyes wide and his mouth gaping as he waited for my response. “Mom, has she had sex with Carter?”
