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I look over at my Dad, but he simply shrugs his shoulders, looking as perplexed as I am.
“Listen, you should just tell me exactly what this big secret is you’re implying I’m keeping from you,” I tell her. “Put me and Dad out of our misery here, Mom.”
“You really don’t know what I’m talking about, do you? You really have no clue?” she asks, eyes searching mine.
I shrug and raise my hands in surrender.
“Well, let me spell it out for you, Luke.” Mom flicks up her index finger. “First of all, she’s not drinking any alcohol. In fact, the mere sight of it seems to turn her a deeper shade of green.”
A second finger shoots up as Mom lists out what she thinks is going on with Tessa. “Second, she barely ate before rushing off to the bathroom. She came back, tried to eat some more, before rushing off again.
“And now this time. That’s three times she’s been sick.” My mom is looking up from her fingers to my face as she counts, studying my features to see if I’m following her train of thought.
I shrug, waiting for her to continue her almost clinical assessment of the situation.
“And lastly, she’s positively radiant. You must have noticed that, at least? She’s glowing, her hair is shinier than the last time I saw her, her face a little flushed . . .” My mom’s voice trails off and she lets out a big sigh as she realizes I’m still none the wiser.
“Men,” she says, shaking her head with disappointment, but smiling all the same. “She’s pregnant, Luke. It’s obvious. Well, for a woman at least, it seems.”
My blood freezes and my breath catches in my throat. I struggle to breath through the shock that has paralyzed me. Unable to speak, I simply sit there, like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a truck.
I take in a ragged breath. With a shaky hand, I raise my wine glass to my mouth, taking a much larger gulp before setting the glass unsteadily back on the table. It seems like time has slowed down.
What the fuck? Is this for real? She can’t be pregnant. She would have told me, surely?
I’m not ready for a child. This is going to ruin me.
I repress a sudden urge to run out of the restaurant, to get as far away from this situation as possible, to process what I’ve just been told.
Calm down, Luke. Mom might be wrong. You don’t know for sure, but . . .
Mom is never wrong about these things. Never.
Remember when she somehow intuited that Aunt Nancy wasn’t sleeping with her husband anymore? That was kind of TMI, but the point is . . .
Shit.
I try to speak but can’t seem to form the words, so I simply sit there like a fish, gulping water.
“Oh my God. You really didn’t know, did you? She hasn’t told you? Oh, Luke . . . Well, I think it’s great news. It’s not the best way to find out, I’m sure, but try and see this is a good thing. You’ll make a great dad,” she says, smiling at me with an look of adoration on her face.
What is it with babies and making women go crazy? This isn’t real. I’m going to wake up soon. There’s no way I’m going to be a Dad. What the hell am I going to do?
Tessa
I come back to the table and . . . something’s wrong.
Luke’s parents look extremely uncomfortable, like they’re itching to leave, and he’s staring ahead into the middle distance, his jaw clenched.
“Sorry about that,” I say, my voice weak. “I’ve been feeling a little off-color recently.”
“Oh, really?” Luke asks, sarcasm dripping from his words like poison. “I wonder why that is?”
I stare at him. What’s going on? I’ve never heard him speak like this. He’s normally so unruffled and straightforward.
His dad coughs and looks distinctly embarrassed. Everyone picks at their starters and nobody seems to want to meet my eye.
Have I committed some sort of faux pas? Is my dress riding up or something? What the hell’s going on?
I’m about to just come out and ask when Luke’s mother clears her throat.
“The two of us are going to have to leave early, I’m afraid. We, uh . . . we forgot to feed the cats, and it’ll need to be done before we fly.”
Forgot to feed your cats? You’re rich enough that you probably have a full-time cat feeder.
“But we haven’t even had the main course yet,” I say. “Is it really so urgent?”
They stand and gather their things.
“They’re very needy cats, unfortunately.” Luke’s mom fixes her gaze on her Birkin as she slings it onto her arm, avoiding eye contact. “Besides, I think the two of you kids have some things you need to discuss. Have a lovely evening. We’ll see you again soon.”
