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I creep into the living room quietly. “Want me to carry her to bed?” I whisper to J.R.
He shakes his head. “Just a little longer,” he whispers back. He knows, too, that one day, she’ll be too big to fit in his lap like this.
I take my place on the other end of the couch, pulling my own blanket over my legs. The television is on, but I’m not sure what it’s playing. I lie down with my head on the arm of the couch, and I tuck my bare feet between the back of J.R.’s thighs and the couch seat. I gaze ahead at J.R. and Knox, and I can’t help but notice the baby bump that is my stomach now, quite visible now from my vantage point. A perfect, round shape protruding from my body. It’s not a big bump, but it’s a bump. I run my hand over my stomach, and I catch J.R. glancing at me. I smile at him and whisper, “I missed you.”
I know I’ve probably told him this at least one hundred times since he came home last night, but I’m not sure that I could ever say it too much. I do miss him so much when he’s gone, and when he’s home, I want him to fill every second of my day.
J.R. smiles back at me softly. “I’m going to carry her to bed.” He scoops Knox into his arms so effortlessly and then pushes himself up from the couch. I watch them as he carries her down the hall. When he returns, he lays himself between my body and the back of the couch. His head rests on my shoulder, and his hand rests on my stomach.
“I have to tell you something,” he says.
I always dread conversations that begin like this. Wasn’t this the same sentence I told him when I had to confess to my suicide attempt? “What is it?” I ask softly.
J.R. turns his face toward mine, and he looks up at me with his soft, blue eyes. “A couple of weeks ago…”
I feel a lump in my throat, and I’m praying that his next words aren’t “I cheated on you with one of the band’s groupies.” I don’t think he would ever cheat on me, but the thought does cross my mind. I’m not there. I don’t know what type of things he could be getting into. He’s definitely not unattractive, and when he’s at the piano, I have a hard time controlling myself. I can’t imagine what it must be like for other women. Especially the younger ones. I do try to not think about these things when he’s gone. It’ll only drive me crazy.
“My dad called me,” J.R. says, and I’m immediately relieved, although the news is odd. As far as I know, J.R. and his dad haven’t spoken in more than a decade.
I push myself up to a seated position, J.R. coming up with me. I think the expression on my face is a good indication of the confusion I feel.
“Your dad?”
J.R. pushes his hand over his head, and a piece of him looks just as confused as I do. “Yeah. It’s been years, I know. He…he called. Out of the blue.”
“What did you talk about?” I ask him.
“He congratulated me on the band. I told him about you and Knox, told him where we live. And I invited them to come down for Thanksgiving.” He watches me as he says those last few words. I think he’s waiting for me to explode.
It’s everything inside of me not to explode. I don’t handle last-minute changes to plans well. I let my expression go blank instead.
“Thanksgiving is tomorrow, J.R.,” I tell him. “We don’t have enough food. We don’t have any food.” I wasn’t even planning on J.R. being here for Thanksgiving.
“I’ll take care of it,” he promises.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Is this the only reason you came home?”
“No, Rach. I had already decided to come home. I didn’t tell you sooner because, well, I had to get the situation with Knox resolved. That was my focus.”
“J.R., this is a big deal. I’m not ready to meet your parents.” I’m only slightly shouting, but I am in full panic mode internally. “What did you tell them about Knox and me? That you’ve only just met Knox because I disappeared for a few years? Did you tell him you’ve already knocked me up again and that we haven’t even gotten married yet?”
“Rach, calm down. Why are you so upset?”
“What did you tell him about us, J.R.?” I ask him with my arms folded across my chest now. I’m not sure why I’m so upset, but maybe I’m a little more self-conscious about my past choices than I thought.
J.R. massages the bridge of his nose. He does this when he’s trying to remain calm, and I’m trying to figure out what in the world he has to be upset about.
“I told him that we met eleven years ago but that we’ve spent the last several years apart. I told him that we just recently reconnected, and we’ve decided to get married. I didn’t go into extreme detail. I didn’t think the details were something that should be said through a telephone.”
“What will they think of Knox Rose?”
“I don’t think it matters, Rach,” he says. “Really. I think they want to make things right with me. It doesn’t matter what happened in our past. What matters is right now. We’re together now.”
J.R. takes my hand. “I’m nervous, too. I haven’t seen my parents since I left home, but I think they’ll love Knox Rose. I think they’ll love you, too. I think that we should try. They’re my parents.”
I sigh, and I know that he’s right. I know that I should be happy for him, too, but maybe I have trust issues. Calling your son out of the blue after years of silence? I don’t buy it.
“What if things go sideways? Not to mention, I have no idea how to talk to parents. I never had any.” Kelley’s parents sort of filled that void, but I was never their daughter.
