The feigned innocence is the same one she’d always give me when she broke something to keep me around. A habit that’s miraculously disappeared since Bryn and I got together.
“Nothing.” Then in a whisper she adds, “But maybe don’t take any cookies on the drive.”
Before I can ask why, Bryn appears in the kitchen, walking at a clip towards the mudroom. Ruby steps around the island before she can go by, stopping her. Cupping her granddaughter’s face in her hands, Bryn’s eyes well with tears when Ruby whispers something to her.
I’ve moved close enough to hear Bryn’s reply. “I love you, too.”
What the fuck is going on?
It isn’t until we’re in my mom’s SUV, pulling out of the garage, that either of us speaks. She beats me to it.
“Can we go to the store?”
The question is quiet, and I reach out, taking her hand, which I note is in her lap. She’s looking out the window, facing away from me, not letting me see her expression.
“We can go anywhere you want, baby,” I tell her, bringing her hand to my lips.
A sound slips from her, and she shakes her head, turns in my direction, and leans over the console to press her head to my bicep. The way she melts upon contact has me breathing a little easier, and it seems like it has the same effect on her. Everything about her softens in that moment, and though I still don’t understand what’s going on, I don’t push her as she shifts again, wrapping both armsaround my upper arm and fully leans against me now. I hate that we don’t have Betty to drive, because I know she’d be curled against my side if we did.
We’re on the edge of the property, out of eyesight from the house, when she says, “Stop the car.”
“Are you gonna be sick?” I ask, slowing down to move to the side of the gravel road.
“No,” she shakes her head, sitting up. “Can I see your phone?”
Taking it out of my pocket, I hand it to her. She knows the code, punches it in, pauses, looks at me, and smooths a hand over her stomach. “We should get out. Let’s get out. I know you. You’re going to need to be out of the car.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, but she’s already out, and I’m following on my side. “B, what the heck is going on?”
By the time I join her at the front of the car, she’s got her purse set up on the front, my phone leaning against it, the camera open. She presses record before turning towards me, shaking her hands out.
“Oh god, I’m hot,” she says, waving a hand in front of her face. That doesn’t do enough because a second later, she’s pulling her zipper down, tugging her jacket off.
“B, it’s like fourteen degrees out, keep it on,” I insist, and it’ll be one of the only times in my life I tell her not to take a layer off.
“No, I’m hot, I’m freaking out, I’m hot, I can’t breathe, it’s too hot.”
“Do you have a fever? Babe, really, keep the jacket on. If you’ve got a fever, we don’t want you getting chilled,” I tell her, taking the purple jacket to try and at least wrap it around her shoulders.
“I’m not sick!” She bats at my hands, wanting nothing to do with the jacket. “I think I’m pregnant.”
The world stops.
I freeze.
Bryn’s hands are over her mouth, frozen, eyes as wide as I’ve ever seen them.
I don’t think any animal in the entire valley breathes, collectively holding their breath like the two of us. The wind stills. The setting sun doesn’t move. The few clouds in the sky pause.
Pregnant.
She thinks she’s pregnant. With my baby. Our baby.
Holy fuck.
It’s no more than a fraction of a second, and then I’m tossing her jacket towards the hood of the car, choking down a whoop of excitement because tears are spilling over her eyes and I know they’re not because she’s jumping for joy like I am. They’re because she’s freaking out. She just said those words, and before I can celebrate like I want, I need her to be there too.
Wrapping my arms around her shoulders, I pull her into me. “It’s okay, my love. It’s okay.”
