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The lump in my throat won’t disappear, no matter how many times I swallow. That’s worse thanwe’re having problemsorthings might not workout.Different residencesandseparated since springsounds very permanent. So does a silence that suggests my father might have already moved on.
“I don’t know what to say,” I admit.
“You don’t have to say anything, sweetheart. I’ve been debating on what to say, when to tell you. I wanted to tell you in person, and you don’t usually come back from campus before Thanksgiving…” She sighs. “There will probably be some changes by then.”
Changes…like my family looking totally different from how it’s been for the past twenty-one years.
“You mean Dad will have moved out?”
“Most likely.”
My nod is slow. “I’m…I need to go.”
“Go?” Alarm threads through her voice. “It’s getting late. Where are you going, Cassia?”
I head for the stairs. “I just need some air.”
“Honey, I’m sorry you’re so upset.”
“How am I supposed to feel?” I snap. “Happy?”
My mom is silent.
I exhale. “I’m sorry. This is why, I just need to… I need a minute.”
“Okay. Make sure you take your phone.”
I nod, reaching into the bag on my shoulder for my keys. I pull out the box blocking them without thinking, intent on getting out of here as quickly as possible.
My mistake doesn’t occur to me until I hear my mom’s sharp inhale. When I look over, her eyes are focused on the pink pregnancy test.
“Oh, Cassia…”
“It’s not mine.”
“Honey…”
“I promise. It’s for a friend.”
I don’t feel the same guilt I experienced earlier. Me having a baby would affect my mom in a way it wouldn’t Mrs. Golden. I don’t want her stressing about the possibility, especially now that I know everything else she’s dealing with.
But my denial has a different outcome. I watch the pieces click together in my mom’s mind—Sydney’s surprise visit earlier, our long talk locked away in my room—and come to the correct conclusion.
“Oh.”
“She doesn’t want anyone to know. Doesn’t know for sure. Please don’t say anything.”
“I won’t. But please make sure she knows I’m here if she needs anything. Going through a pregnancy at any age is difficult, but without her parents…”
I nod, fisting my keys and shoving the box back in my bag. “I’ll tell her.”
“I love you, Cassia.”
I walk over and hug her, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume. “I love you too, Mom.”
Tears sting at my eyes as I step back.
My movements are hasty as I hurry downstairs. Wanting to get away before I break down. Before this house shrinks even smaller than it already feels.
