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“Good, good,” says Ida, smiling as she touches a hand to her chest.
“You’re one of the first people we’ve told,” Victoria says happily. “After Dean and my parents, of course.”
I nod. My son was startled by the news when we told him, but he was clearly happy for us, too. And when we told Victoria’s parents, they practically offered to move in to help us out; it had taken some very firm convincing, and reminding them that I had already successfully raised a child into adulthood, to talk them out of buying a plane ticket right that second.
“Oh, I feel like I’m finally going to be a grandmother,” Ida says, wet-eyed again.
Under the table, Victoria grips my hand and gives it a warm squeeze. Then she takes my hand and places it on her stomach, which isn’t showing yet but which still curves gently under my palm. When our eyes meet, she smiles and mouthsI love you, and I mouth back,I love you too.
I never expected to end up here. I certainly never expected it to all happen because of a careless fall off a ladder.
But I guess life—and love—can work in mysterious ways.
