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“Mom, you shouldn’t have done that.”
“You always come first, Cinny.” Dad kisses my head. “Now, let’s get you back into bed.”
“Have you had anything to eat this morning? Can your stomach handle it?” Mom’s got the laundry basket against her hip. “I’ll go down and pop this in, then swing past the dining hall on the way back up.”
I wrap my arms around myself when Dad lets me go and stare at my mother. Tears flood my eyes, and soon I can’t see her past the blur. She’s such a good mom. I can’t imagine ever being so kind and thoughtful and organized. She takes such great care of me. She always has. And now I’m carrying a baby and?—
My body shakes with a sob, and I can’t stop the whine in my throat. I cover my mouth with my hand, but it’s obvious I’m about to fall apart.
“Sweetheart.” Mom puts the basket on the end of my bed and moves into my space, rubbing my arm. She shares a concerned look with Dad before softly asking me, “What’s wrong?”
“I’m pregnant.” The words come out before I can stop them, and the temperature in the room drops by a thousand degrees.
Mom’s lips part, and she blinks at me like she doesn’t know who I am anymore.
Dad takes a step away from me, his crestfallen expression the tipping point. My knees buckle and I drop to the floor, covering my face and sobbing in earnest. I didn’t realize I had any tears left, but here they are—ugly, wailing cries. They don’t even know the worst of it yet.
Two strong hands curl around my shoulders and help me back up. I shuffle to the bed, Dad’s arm around my waist as he helps me get under the covers. Mom smooths them around me. She’s still blinking and can’t seem to look at me.
Neither of them has said anything, and I’m on the verge of screaming, “Just say it!” when Dad finally sighs.
“How far along?”
“Um…” I curl my fingers into the covers and try to remember. “About ten weeks.”
“Okay.” Dad nods, rubbing his cheek. His eyes dart over my face, but he can’t really look at me. “And the father? Does he know?”
My expression buckles and Mom gasps, reaching for my hand. “It was consensual, right? I mean, this isn’t some kind of college date rape thing, is it?”
She looks near panicked, and I quickly reassure her that it’s not. “I knew what I was doing. I wanted to do it.”
“But you didn’t use protection?” Dad shuffles on his feet, crossing his arms, then uncrossing them. I’ve never seen him this uncomfortable before, and he does couples counseling.
“Of course I did. I always do.”
“Wh-What?” Mom’s blinking again. “You make it sound like you…” She licks her lips and shares another look with Dad before struggling to ask, “How often do you… do this sort of thing, Caroline?”
I groan and tip my head back, refusing to look at either of them while I rush out the words. “Since getting to college, I’ve been… discovering… myself.”
Their disappointment is thick and oppressive. I know they wanted me to wait until I was married… or at least engaged. They’re all about commitment, then sex. They raised me to think that way, but my curious body couldn’t wait.
I don’t regret it… although, maybe there’s some merit in only sleeping with one partner rather than this casual sex thing, which has gotten me into the worst possible situation.
Mom pats my hand. “Well… uh… okay, um…”
“I thought we taught you better than that.” Dad’s voice has gone low and gruff. He gets quiet when he’s super pissed, and I can hear him struggling as he grits out the words, “Sex isn’t supposed to be cheap. It’s a precious, beautiful gift that you save for the right person.”
I nod. “I know that’s how you feel, Dad.”
“Well…,” Mom says hopefully, her smile unconvincing as she desperately looks for a positive in all this. “Have you… found the right person?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “But…”
“He doesn’t want you,” Dad huffs. “Well, he’s not the right one, then, is he? Did you tell him you were pregnant, and then he bailed? Where is he? I want to talk to him.”
“No, Dad, please.” I close my eyes. “It’s not like that. He… We were together, and now I’m not sure. It’s complicated.”
“Why?” Mom tips her head to look at me, her eyes finally focusing on my face. “Is it the pregnancy?”
