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She pursed her lips, looking over my shoulder to the driveway. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes, it is, but I didn’t come alone. There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” I whispered, glancing back at the car.
My mother’s attention followed my gaze. “Is that Allie in the car?”
“It is. She’s waiting there with my son—your grandson.”
My mother’s face fell ashen, and time stood still.
“Did you say your son?” she whispered, and I nodded.
Her mouth opened and closed before a few times before she composed herself. “Are you going to have them wait in the car or join us? Wait—kids don’t eat sushi. I’ll throw something in the oven—”
“Mom, it’s okay. I have snacks. I… I just really wanted to see you and tell how wonderful and smart and funny he is, and—“
“Laura, stop. I don’t want you telling me how great he is. I want to meet my grandson. Jake!” she called, unable to contain a smile. “Jake, you gotta come out here.”
Okay, I had to admit—Teresa was right.
I waved Allie over, and she took Foxy out of the car seat. My mother’s hand flew to her mouth as she covered her shaky breaths. She hurried down the three steps and lifted Foxy into her arms, spinning him in the air. He laughed open-mouthed just as my father met us outside.
“Is that Allie’s baby?” he asked. “I didn’t know she had a son.”
“No, Dad. This is Fox, and he’s mine. He’s your grandson.”
“What?” He took a cautious step forward.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“I have a grandson?” He let out a cautious laugh, and my heart skipped a beat. I took in the moment as my parents passed Foxy back and forth, tickling him and showing him all the flowers he wanted to touch in the front garden.
“See? That wasn’t so bad,” Allie said.
“Yeah, who would have thought?”
“Teresa.”
“You think she’s right about James? That he’ll grab Foxy into his arms and forget the past two years happened?”
“I doubt it, but good luck.”
“Thanks,” I puffed. “He must know how to forgive, right? I mean, he’s related to Tristan, and the Silvers are all amazing—”
“And so is James. He may be upset when you tell him, but he’ll forgive you. You’re the mother of his child. Teresa’s right, though. It will be better if he hears about it from you.”
My father picked a sunflower and handed it to Foxy. Yellow pollen dusted his nose as he smelled the flower.
“He didn’t forgive Tiffany for poking his condoms,” I said.
“You’re not her.”
My mother picked Foxy up into her arms and joined us on the porch. “Let’s go eat. I’m starving. Does Foxy like chicken nuggets? They’re organic.”
“He loves them.”
We followed my parents inside, and I helped my mother with the food while my father played with Foxy in the backyard. I’d forgotten how much I missed this home. We used to play badminton and pool volleyball all summer. Life was good—until prom night in high school. I didn’t even know who attacked me.
“Laura?” My mother nudged my arm. “Are you all right?”
