AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It’s called sex,” Leslie clarifies.
“Leslie Maria Fernandez,” my sister yelps.
“What, Mom?” She shrugs. “It’s the scientific name, or should I say copulating?”
Oh gosh, I pass a hand over my face.
That’s when Teresa also enters the room and tries to shepherd her parents to the exit. “Mom, Dad, I’m sure Marissa wouldn’t want you to make a big scene. Maybe we should just go back and hear what she has to say.”
Mr. Mayer crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m not moving until this young fella explains himself.”
“But… but,” my mom stutters. “Marissa is really pregnant?”
I nod.
“With your baby?”
“Yes, but it’s not how it seems.”
Mr. Mayer’s face turns even more purple. “Only one way to make that happen in my book, so are you taking responsibility or not?”
“Dad!” Teresa shouts. “Come on, we should go back and see how Marissa is doing. She was still sick when I left.”
I spring up from my chair, sending it tumbling to the floor. “Marissa is sick?”
“I’m fine.” She walks into the room, looking far from fine. Her skin is greenish and pasty, a stark contrast to the colored long dress she’s wearing, and she looks like she can barely stand.
I’m at her side in a few quick strides, supporting her by the elbow and helping her sit in a spare chair.
That’s when a high-pitched wail draws my attention back to the table where Nora is covering her face with her hands, shoulders shaking.
I’m torn between going to console my daughter or supporting Marissa. Seeing my indecision, Marissa pats my hand. “It’s only morning sickness. I’m fine. Go.”
In a few seconds, I’m at Nora’s side, trying to understand what’s going on. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
Hands still covering her face, she nods.
“Then why are you crying?” I gently lower her hands so that she can speak.
She wails, “I’m having a baby brother or sister.”
“Yep,” Leslie says, taking a sip of cider. “Cry all your tears now because there’s a no-return policy on those.”
“Leslie M—” my sister starts.
“Maria Fernandez,” Leslie concludes. “I know, I know. But it’s not my fault if you”—she makes a deep voice in a perfect rendition of Jack Nicholson—“can’t handle the truth.”
I raise my eyebrows. Since when do nine-year-old girls quote A Few Good Men?
Then I concentrate back on Nora. “Are you upset?”
She shakes her head. “I’m happy.”
“Poor fool,” Leslie comments.
“That’s it, young lady,” Katy snaps. “You’re grounded.”
“Oh, will you un-ground me if I say silly stuff like corn poop and toilet paper?”
