“Last I checked, you didn’t make this baby by yourself. Didn’t they teach you in school that it takes two to make a baby?”
His response floors me. It’s the total opposite of what I thought I’d get. “But you—you walked away after I told you. I thought you were mad.”
“I left because your mom was coming out of that room, and I didn’t want her to see my reaction. Clearly, you’re keeping this a secret from everybody, including me. I didn’t want your mom to ask a bunch of questions.”
He lets his hands drop from behind my back and walks toward the vineyard again. I follow, unsure if he even wants me to.
“It was that one time, right? After that show, in the tour bus?”
I nod. It’s the only time we didn’t use a condom, so it has to be. He pulled out, but clearly that didn’t work.
“You know, all my life, I’ve always heard it only takes once. Only one fucking time. Damn it all to hell, they were right.”
I nod—because yeah, it did only take one time. He must’ve been on a high after his show, and he took us into that bus, locked the door, and told Beau to keep everybody out. I don’t know if it was the song he sang at the end or seeing everybody adoring him. I have no idea what made him pull me away, but he took me, and we didn’t even think about protecting ourselves. We still thought, what are the chances? One in a million, right? I remember saying how I’d heard we’d have a better chance at winning the lottery, and we laughed.
And now we’re here.
“I guess all those health teachers were right, huh?” My breathing has started to settle, and I inhale slowly.
Zander chuckles. His laugh actually sounds really nice compared to the other sounds I thought he’d be making now. I thought I’d hear cursing and shouting, maybe sobbing and lamenting his life choices.
“God, you’re taking this so much better than I thought you would.”
He still has that smile as he says, “Believe me, my head’s playing war with me right now. But anger isn’t going to help. I’m sure you don’t want this any more than I do.”
His words sting, but they don’t surprise me. My hand falls to my stomach, and he clocks the movement instantly, transfixed on it. I don’t want to read anything into the panic in his eyes, how real it seems to be becoming to him. I’ve had a couple of weeks to digest this news, and he’s had all of five minutes.
His eyes still don’t shift from my stomach.
I guess it’s time I lay it all out on the line. He has to know exactly what my plans are moving forward. “There’s something else you have to know, Zander.”
Alarm shifts his features. “Is there something wrong? Have you already been to the doctor? Is it the baby?” He reaches out but retracts his hand before it can make contact with my stomach. “How far along are you? I mean, I can guess how far along you are, but I don’t know how they calculate those things. Something’s wrong, isn’t it? Something that’s?—”
I shake my head. “No… well, not that I know of. I’ve just decided… I’m keeping the baby. I want to keep the baby.”
He nods and blows out a breath. “Okay.”
For some reason, that’s more of a comfort to me than anything else. I’m still in shock over how he’s handling the news, and I have no idea where we go from here.
“Do you want to take some time to think about what you want to do?” I broach the subject about finding our way forward.
By now we’re right at the edge of the vineyard, where the grapes are plump enough to harvest. Uncle Wade always does one harvest in September and the other in early October, so these must be for that one.
“I—I don’t know. There’s… a lot of logistics, I guess. I should probably talk to Beau, figure out the next steps, but right now, I can’t even think about any of that. Honestly, I’m still in shock. The thought of me as—” He breaks off, dragging a hand down his face. “God. Me? A dad? Who would even want that? I’m such a screw-up. I have commitment issues, keep people away. I don’t know how the hell a real family functions because I’ve never been a part of one.” His voice falters. “How the hell am I supposed to be somebody’s father?”
He lays all his vulnerabilities at my feet. I’m unsure if he’s expecting me to answer him or not. Should I tell him that I think he’ll be an amazing dad and that he should give himself the chance? That I saw a glimpse of who he truly is and could be, and that man will be a wonderful father? But then does it sound like I’m pressuring him to be involved? So, I stay silent and let him have his moment—the same moment I did, though I was able to have it without witnesses.
I look at him, then look up at The Knotted Barn, seeing my mom standing on the balcony watching us. Her mamma bear tendencies have never gone away, even as my siblings and I grew into adulthood. She wants to know what the hell is going on with me, although I’m assuming she has an inkling if she went back and opened that drawer. I guarantee she did after I ran off.
“I think I’m going to go back up. I’m going to let you digest this information, and then if you want to talk—whenever you want to talk—we can.”
He turns and walks right up to me. I stand frozen, worried about what he’s going to say, but he wraps his arms around me and squeezes me tightly. All he says is, “Thank you.”
I don’t know what the thank you means. I don’t know if it means thank you for telling me or thank you for giving me time to process. But I nod, and he gives me one last squeeze. Then he walks away, down one of the rows, farther back into the vineyard.
I watch him for a moment, a little relieved that the truth is out, that I no longer have to hold this secret inside me. I’m going to have to go up there and tell my mom, and she’s either going to give me her sarcastic wit or judgment—maybe a little of both. She won’t like that I kept this from her. The guilt will be real. She would’ve wanted to see me through this moment, but it was important for me to make sure Zander knew before my whole family. It was only fair.
I walk up the hill and see my mom leave the balcony. Moments later, she’s out the back door, and as I reach the top of the hill, she holds out her arms.
