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“Morning sickness again?”
Whoever came up with the term morning sickness must have been a male. It should be called all-day sickness. The list of food that repulses me is growing longer by the day. On the plane ride here, I officially added oranges to my list. The man across from me had the need to eat three of them in a row, and I had the need to puke three times in a row in the tiny-ass restroom.
There was a week or two where it disappeared, but for some unknown reason, I caught a second wave of it, praying this is short-lived and won’t carry on during the entire pregnancy.
“Yes… err no…” I muster up the courage and knock on the door.
Seconds feel like hours, my heart rate picking up the longer we stand here. But then I remember little bubba inside of me, and placing unnecessary stress on the baby is not good. Taking deep breaths, I talk myself into calming down. Lex is right, nine years is a long time.
The door opens, my dad stares at me in shock.
“Charlie?”
“Daddy!” I cry, running into his arms.
It has been a year since I saw him last, but unlike every other time I’ve seen him, this feels so much more emotional. I’m here, no longer his little girl, but a woman pregnant with a baby to the man I love.
I hold onto him, allowing his smell to embrace me, a mixture of Old Spice and laundry detergent—a sign he has a good woman taking care of him. He pulls away, no smiles, but a stare so cold I swear the birds flew out of the trees like a sixth sense as to what is about to go down.
“What the hell is Edwards doing here?” he raises his voice.
“Dad, please. We need to talk.”
“He’s not welcome here.”
“Dad! Can we please act like mature adults and talk?”
“Mature adults? He was an adult, Charlie, when you were a teenager. An adult who took advantage of you,” he shoots back.
“Dad…” The walls of my stomach weaken. Covering my mouth, I push him out of the way. “I need the bathroom.”
After a nasty let’s-see-what-I-had-for-lunch situation in the bathroom, I stand at the basin, splashing my face with cold water. Seriously, when the hell is the morning sickness going to stop? I open the door and hear my dad and Lex spea
king, the voices are muffled, and I can’t really hear the conversation. However, I’m guessing it isn’t pleasant.
I enter the kitchen and interrupt what looks like a heated debate.
“Charlie—”
“Dad, if you’re talking about the small-minded folks in this town, I really don’t care what people say, they can talk about us as much as they want. I know who I am. I’m a woman who fought hard to put my past behind me. I studied and graduated from Yale Law School. I opened up a law firm in New York City. I have been given a second chance with the only man my heart has ever belonged to, and now… now… we are having a baby.”
There, I blurt it out, no sugarcoating—this is the real deal. I decide to hold onto the information about us getting married on a whim in The Hamptons.
One piece of information at a time, Charlie.
His face changes, a look I’ve never seen before. I glance nervously at Lex who shrugs his shoulders, obviously just as curious as I am.
“I’m going to be a granddaddy?” he asks with a slight croak in his voice.
I nod, and instantly he pulls me into a big hug. Thank fuck! The tension eases, and right on cue, my stomach grumbles. Oh, shame.
“Time to get some grub in you… doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, Edwards,” he warns.
“Dad, let it go. And please don’t use the word ‘grub.’ That sounds like something you find dead on the road and decide to grill it.”
“I was thinking your favorite Buffalo chicken wings,” he says proudly.
“Nothing with wings,” I answer queasily.
