A sickening feeling turns my empty stomach inside out.
Oh shit, they can't be pregnant, can they?
No way. This is not aFather of the Bride IImoment. Molly is in her sixties and has to be in menopause. There's absolutely no way. But weren't George and Nina the same age?
As I talk myself out of it, I pass Buy Buy Baby along the freeway like it's a big fat omen.
I chuckle to myself and pretend I'm not on the verge of spiraling out of control. I'm too old to have a sibling, and I don't count Theo, stepbrother or not.
So thanks to Bruce, whom I only call by his first name when I'm upset with him, I barely remember the rest of the commute because I'm in an anxiety haze.
I'mparkedoutsidethehouse that sheltered me from the day I was brought home from the hospital. My parents were the original owners, and over time, it's been through a lot.
One time a storm swept through and nearly leveled it when a huge tree fell onto the roof.
Or when my parents decided to redo the entire backyard, complete with a new pool and stone waterslide.
And when my dad had to clean out the third-car garage to make way for my brand-new car when I turned sixteen.
Or when we had to convert their downstairs master bedroom into a hospital room when things got serious.
And eventually, when my car took my mom's place when we sold hers after she passed away.
And now, seeing it for the first time in two years, the exterior paint is different, with flowers blooming in planter boxes outside the windows.
Even a lungful of fresh air can't settle the sinking feeling in my chest.
How did it get to this? Moving back home when I'm an adult?
I know I'm lucky to have a supportive parent willing to accept me back. Some are not as fortunate and would be jumping at an opportunity like this if their circumstances were the same.
Keeping that fact at the forefront of my mind, I step out of my car right as my dad and Molly come careening out the front door.
I feel like I've returned home from active duty.
Molly is holding flowers and my dad has his arms open for a giant bear hug as they bum rush me.
"It's so great to see you, kiddo!" My dad wraps his arms around me and leans backward to lift my feet off the ground.
Aside from the belly he's had for years, my dad is as healthy as can be. He's taller than me, but we've never had an exceptionally statuesque family. I'm 5'5 and he’s 5'10.
Molly has a petite frame and is shorter than me by a couple of inches. She reaches her arms around my neck and gives me a tight squeeze.
I reciprocate the gesture, keeping my body flush against hers in case a baby bump is prominent. But I feel nothing.
Okay, so far, so good.
"How was the drive?" my dad asks.
"Wasn't too bad. Hope you don't mind I'm here sooner."
"Of course not." Molly beams. "We've been looking forward to this since your dad told me you might be moving home."
"It's not permanent," I remind her. "I'm hoping I’ll be gone within the month."
Molly displays a heartfelt yet offbeat smile, as she can read between the lines.
One month before your pain-in-the-ass son comes home and I'm out of here.
