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Her approach is one of suspicion, though a small smile graces her face. I can see her eyes work as she takes us in. During my previous encounters with Regina, she’s always been kind to me, and I silently pray this lunch isn’t any different.
“Hello, my son.” She embraces Nathan in a warm, motherly hug, planting a kiss on his cheek before stepping back to take him in. She pats his face lovingly. “You look skinny. Have you been losing weight?”
He tolerates her picking over him for a moment before waving her off. “Mom, you say that every time I see you. I’m the same as always. You remember my friend Kiersten?”
I hold my hand out to shake hers, and she gives it a brief squeeze.
“Of course. Hello, dear.”
“It’s nice to see you again, Regina.”
After our stiff greetings pass, we resume our seats, and Regina settles into her place across from us. Our waiter arrives immediately, accepting drink orders and scurrying back from where he came. The stagnant air surrounding our table gives off an ominous vibe even he doesn’t miss.
My order of plain water with a sliced lemon wedge seems inconspicuous as a drink choice, but I fear it makes me look like a fancy bitch, which I am definitely not. What I need is a strong martini to take the edge off, but that option’s off the table.
“I can’t say I’m not pleasantly surprised to be invited to lunch by my only son, but I feel there is more to this than meets the eye.” She stares pointedly at me as she says it, directing fault for whatever scenario she drummed up before coming here today.
The waiter arrives a moment later, keeping us all on edge while we wait for however it is Nathan plans to respond.
The drinks couldn’t have come at a more perfect time, and I greedily suck back some icy water to wet my suddenly dry throat. Why is this so much harder than blurting it at my parents’? I consider that method again to get it over with.
I sneak a glance at Nathan. Either he can feel my anxiety, or he just knows me well enough by now to know I’m nervous. A heavy hand on my thigh settles me. His fingers compress lightly in warning.
“You’d be right. I invited you here … we invited you here … to share some news with you that I hope will bring some joy.”
Regina’s mouth stretches into a horrified smile, the fillings in her back molars twinkling.
I brace, wishing my galloping heart would take a damn rest.
“Kiersten’s pregnant. We’ll be welcoming our baby in March.”
Her eyes flit back and forth between Nathan and me as that clown-looking sneer remains firmly in place. I inhale sharply at his declaration of a united front. My hand climbs to the space above my heart, compressing the tissue to lessen the twinge. A fragile mask of happiness holds rigid while I wait for whatever words she prepares to share.
The glint in her eye betrays her course. She scrutinizes her son. “I didn’t realize you were seriously seeing anyone.”
Nathan’s jaw falls, and silence expands like the walls of a balloon while he formulates a response. I extend the clock with one of my own.
“We’re casual.” My own family took that news fine, never mind I’ve spoken to my mom on the phone once since then. She’ll forgive me in her own time, and hopefully Regina will too.
“Hmm.” Her hum vibrates the molecules between us. “And how far along are you?” Her tone remains sweet, but the undercurrent of displeasure thrums loudly.
“Fifteen weeks.”
“My goodness, you really waited to share the news. Or did you just find out?”
Nathan’s fingers clench. “We were waiting for the doctor’s confirmation to share.”
She grins, though it looks more like a grimace. “Well, how lovely.”
I share a look with Nathan. Before we can continue further, the waiter returns to take our order.
“The oysters sound good, don’t they?” I ask the table, trying to lighten the mood.
Regina looks at me sourly over her menu. “You can’t have that, dear. It’s not good for the baby.”
“Oh.” Heat curls up my neck. I guess I should have taken Nathan seriously when he said there are things pregnant woman can and cannot have. Being a creature of habit and all, I didn’t think I’d run into any off-limit foods so easily. “I must have missed that. What about the smoked salmon? Would you two like to share?” This feels safe. Smoking fish is a form of cooking it, right?
Regina flat-out snorts, intensifying the sick flare in my stomach.
