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“Who’d you have a meeting with?” I ask. This trip was spur of the moment, so we hadn’t planned for any business.
Blake’s phone rings and he holds up a finger as he checks to see who it is. Presses the side button to silence it and then sets it down beside him. “Mom.”
Rob’s phone goes off right after, and he doesn’t bother looking, just hits the kill switch. “You’re up,” he says to me.
I shake my head and palm my phone, answering on the first ring, “Hello, Mother.”
“Where have you been?”
“Out of town, why?”
“Don’t you ever check your phone?”
“Been busy, Mom.” Yeah. Busy getting my heart ripped out.
“Are your brothers with you?”
“Right here.”
“Tell them I’ll be talking to them when they get home.”
“I will. What do you need, Mom?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?”
“About the engagement.”
I scowl at my brothers, wondering which one told her I was asking Amber to marry me. “There is no engagement, Mom.”
“You could have at least told me I was going to be a grandmother.”
“That’s because I didn’t know you were.”
“Don’t get funny with me, young man. You understand what becoming grandparents means to your father and me. We think about it all the time. That’s why we’re always pushing you to find someone and settle down.”
“That’s not going to happen, Mom.”
“Why not?”
“Because.”
“So, what? You’re going to let Farrah bring this child up on her own? We raised you better than that, Noah.”
I bring the phone to my side and let out a long, slow breath before I return the phone to my ear. “Listen, Mom. I have no idea what you’re talking about. If Farrah is pregnant, I didn’t know. And if she is, I damn sure didn’t have anything to do with it.”
Blake whispers, “What’s going on?”
I raise my hand. “Who told you this, Mom?”
“Social media. Everyone’s congratulating her on her engagement to you and wishing her well on the pregnancy. You two will have such beautiful children.”
“None of that is true, Mom. Farrah’s not carrying my child. I have never been with her, nor am I engaged to her. Nothing has ever happened between us.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I, Mom. But I’m going to find out. I’ve got to go.”
“Call me.”
“I will.” I hang up.
My brothers are upright and attentive. “What’s going on?”
“Fuckin’ Farrah.”
