“No.”
She sighed. “Okay. But you’re all right with it? Whatever it is you can’t tell me?”
“I’m still processing,” I admitted. “But yes. Brooks is Brooks.”
“And he’s the one for you,” she said. “So, you’ll take the good with the bad. I get it.”
“You’re the best, you know that? I mean, seriously the best.”
“Put it on a billboard, will ya?” she joked.
The front door to the apartment opened and Brooks came inside.
“Brooks is back,” I said.
“Tell himhifor me. And congratulations.”
“I will.”
“Oh wait, when are you getting married?” she asked.
“Don’t know. We’ll talk more about it later,” I said.
I hung up with her and set my phone aside and then got up from the bed.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi.”
“Uh-oh. What’s wrong?” I asked, going to him.
He set the box of pastries down onto the counter, along with two to-go cups.
“Brooks?” I pressed.
“I want you to stay calm. Stress isn’t good for the baby.”
I peered at him. “Okay, I’m calm.”
“I called your grandfather when you were in the hospital. I told him who I was in relation to you—not the ex-con part, but the fiancé part.”
“Oh no,” I murmured.
He nodded.
“That means . . . he’s on his way here,” I said. “Isn’t he?”
“Yep.”
“Oh, this is going to be so bad,” I whispered.
“It won’t be that bad,” he assured me.
“You’ve never met my grandfather.”
“Well, I’m about to, aren’t I?” He grinned. “Now I can ask him in person for his blessing.”
I groaned and buried my head in my hands. “He’s going to have me committed.”
