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I couldn’t control the flashbacks flittering through my memory. The faces of the men who had waltzed in and out of my mother’s life, out of my life. Some were kind and treated me well, some weren’t, though all of them vowed forever, and none of them kept their promise. None of them stayed. Married or not, they left Mom. They left me.
As if my mother could read my mind, she said, “Jason’s not like your father. He is not like any of the men who have come and gone in our lives, and there were a lot. I’m sorry about that, honey. If there is one thing I would change, it would be that. You didn’t deserve to live like that, and I know how it’s affected you.”
I felt my eyes sting with tears again. Honestly, if this was what I had in store for the next seven months, I didn’t know how I’d handle it. Then again, if I was thinking about the next seven months, maybe I really did want it.
“I’ve never known you to be afraid, Gemma.”
I huffed. That sounded suspiciously like a dare.
“Jason’s a good man,” she continued, tugging me closer to her. “He will be a great father, and you will be a wonderful mother. Much better than I ever was.” Taking my face in her hands, she said, “Don’t make your decision about your pregnancy because you’re afraid you can’t do it. You can. Make your decision on what youwant. I will be here to help you no matter what you decide. Whether you want to be a mom now or in the future or never. With or without Jason.”
I bit my lip to keep my tears at bay and nodded. I was scared, my nightmares were proof of that, but if I thought about my future, I knew I wanted Jason in it. And when I imagined him in this future, I pictured him singing to a baby, tossing a toddler in the air, watching some middle school math contest because whatever child we had would, without a doubt, be a nerd.
“You wrote an essay in the seventh grade.”
I let out a watery laugh at whatever my mother was about to say because she’d stored up every single one of my school projects and assignments.
“It was about how you wanted to change the world.” She sniffled and reached for a tissue from the box on the coffee table to dab at her eyes. Then she kissed my forehead. “You have changed the world, Gemma, because you’re in it. You changed the world for the better.”
It was no use. The tears started up again, and I fell into my mom’s arms. Because I loved my mother more than words could express. And I was going to have a baby.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE
Gem
It was Saturday, the day of the big surprise birthday bash, and I was the cover story. Jason was supposed to pick me up to go Christmas shopping, then bring me back to his place, where everyone would be waiting. In the blur of the last few days, I had forgotten to get him a birthday present, but I assumed thebig newswould be present enough.
In a turn of events, I was dressed and ready long before he was set to arrive, and I wore down the floorboards pacing the living room, wringing my hands. I hadn’t come up with exactly what I was going to say and hoped it would come to me in the moment.
Mr. Clooney lay on the floor, stopping me in my tracks. I’d neglected to feed him today, and he wasn’t happy about it. I mumbled an apology to him as I walked to the kitchen, where I fed him before moving on to Leonardo. Spot’s empty bowl still sat on the counter, untouched. I wasn’t sure what to do with it. Much like I wasn’t sure what the future held, but as my mother and friends had repeatedly assured me, I would figure it out with Jason.
Busy with cleaning up, I didn’t hear Jason enter until he was next to me, touching my shoulder. I swung around, pressing my hand to my heart.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, easing his hands around my waist. His blue sweater matched his eyes, and when he kissed my neck, I almost swooned in his arms.
“Hi.”
“You look better,” he said, his gaze roaming over me from top to bottom.
“I feel better.”
“Good.” He brushed his knuckle down my cheek, his eyes shining brightly, staring down at me affectionately. Now was the time. I only had to be brave.
“Jason, I’ve been lying to you.”
His eyebrows furrowed.
“I don’t have the flu.”
“But what about the doctor and—”
“I never had the flu.”
He searched my face for understanding. “I don’t get it.”
“I’m sorry I made you worry, but I needed some time.”
His eyebrows crimped, his voice a hard edge. “Some time?”
