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I think about what Logan said in the hotel room. The world will always brand him a cradle robber and assume I’m a gold digger. They’re going to whisper behind our backs, maybe spread gossip. So my question becomes, what am I going to do about that? Crumble?
“It’s not what you think. It was a one-night stand, fine, but itwasromantic. He didn’t push me or anything. I wanted to do it. I know I shouldn’t have.”
Mom frowns. “Your father and Logan are friends. Or they were.”How could you?she almost says. I’m sure of it, or something similar, but she pulls it back at the last moment.
“I know,” I whisper. “I feel like a terrible daughter. Every day since it happened, I’ve felt that way. That’s why he ghosted Dad. I tried to bury it, pretend it never happened, but then I found out I was pregnant.”
“You’re smiling,” Mom says softly.
I adjust my expression.
“Do you always smile when you talk about it? Think about it?”
I nod. “There’s this glow inside of me. It sounds weird, but I feel it, my baby. I feel a glow when Logan talks about them riding their bike or the house we’ll have, or…”
Mom narrows her eyes. “You talk to Logan?”
“He visited,” I say, finally understanding what people mean when they say a weight’s been lifted. It’s not all the weight. It’s not all the doubt and the pain, but some of it is drifting away. “Two weeks ago. He left his team the night I called and told him I was pregnant. He came herethat night. He wants to be a father. He wants to retire and raise the baby with me. We’re going to be a family.”
Jeez, I’m crying now. I’ve been searching online recently about pregnancy hormones, and apparently, this is normal—the swinging moods, the heightened sense of tragedy that comes so potently, so suddenly. I think I’d be crying anyway.
Mom walks across the room and opens her arms. I stand and lean against her. She lets me cry myself out, clutching onto her sides. “Oh, Emma. It’s okay.”
“I wanted to tell Dad. I’ve felt so bad, Mom.”
“Did Logan say all those things?” Mom asks. “About the baby?”
“Yeah.” I lean back in her arms, and she wipes the tears from my cheeks. We share another fleeting smile. “We’re serious, Mom. If it wasn’t for Dad, I don’t know. I think we’d be married or at least engaged.”
Mom gasps. “He saidthat?”
“No,” I mutter. “Not that part, but I love him, and he thinks he might love me, too. We haven’t said it yet.”
Mom sits me down on the couch, clasping my hands. She looks at me sternly. “You’re an intelligent young woman. You’ve always been an old soul, watching the world, trying to bring it tolifein your wonderful stories, but love can blind people. You have to think, too. So think. Are youcertainhe wants to do the right thing and stand by you?”
I almost challenge how she’s phrased it as if she thinks he’s only doing this for the baby. He’s told me countless times he knew he needed me the first time he saw me, the same way I felt when I saw him. She doesn’t mean it like that. “I’m sure,” I tell her. “One hundred percent.”
Mom pulls me into another hug, stroking her hands through my hair. I can feel her heart beating heavily.
“You’re going to be a grandmom,” I say. I hear a croak in her breath as she lets out a long shudder. She’s almost crying.
“Don’t,” she whispers as if she can’t handle the joy.
“A grandmom,” I say again, leaning back and taking her hands, looking into her eyes, shiny with tears. “And we wantlotsof kids, Mom.”
Tears streak down her cheeks now. She squeezes my hands tightly. “Of course, I want that. Who wouldn’t want all that love? But I have to think aboutyou, Emma. Are yousure? Beyond a shadow of a doubt? You know he wants you? And you know you love him?”
“Yes, Mom,” I say, and now I’m crying again too.“Yes.”
We collapse into a hug.I hold her tightly, knowing she will make the best grandmother, knowing my and Logan’s baby will never have to want for love.
After a minute or so, the door whines open behind us. Eric walks in, awkwardly scratching his head. “Uh, are you two okay?”
Mom laughs, and it’s a wonderful sound to hear. My heart could sprout wings and fly right out of my chest! It’s melodramatic as heck, but I don’t care. All those times I imagined Mom learning the truth, I never dreamed of this. It doesn’t mean Dad will be okay with it, though. My belly twists at the thought. I can’t forget about the last hurdle.
“Are you here to ensure we’re not tearing each other’s hair out, Eric?” Mom says.
Eric grins, flashing me a look. It’s almost like he’s saying,See,aren’t you glad I snooped?
