Zander
Walking from her house to her parents’ place on the path along the lake is peaceful. Usually on our walks, quiet settles in my chest, and I get more and more relaxed. But tonight, I’m just a walking frayed nerve. I wasn’t even this nervous the first time I performed at the Grand Ole Opry.
“I feel like I should warn you before we walk in there,” I say to Romy.
“Warn me?” She tugs at her sleeve against the evening chill. She’s bundled in a sweater and jeans, dressed down from the flirty dresses she usually torments me with when she’s at work. The dresses are torture for me, so I’m kind of happy she’s fully covered. That way I can concentrate on the dinner and her family and not that I want to get her into bed.
“I’ve never done the whole meet-the-parents thing.”
She laughs, not fully understanding how stressful this is for me. “Well, good thing you already met them then.”
“You know what I mean, Romy. I’m going to go in there, and after we deliver the news, your dad will know I’ve slept with you. We have to tell him you’re pregnant, and we’re not even a couple. He’s going to hate me.”
Why did I say I’d come? She wasn’t expecting me to.
Because you weren’t going to let her do this alone, you dipshit.
“Relax. I’m telling you right now, my parents are super cool. You don’t have to worry. And my mom already knows. God, my dad probably already knows to be honest. He’s just gonna pretend like it’s a big surprise. That’s the way they usually work.”
She’s so casual about it, but not a minute has gone by today that I didn’t worry about how this was going to go down tonight. Family dinners? I thought that was television sitcom made-up shit.
“I know, but if I act weird or stutter or I’m quiet, please know it’s just my nerves.”
I stop on the path near the lake, and she halts beside me. She leans into me, resting her head on my shoulder.
“Zander, you’re way overthinking this. We’re just going to tell them I’m pregnant. Lottie’s going to be sarcastic. Brooks will probably groan. Bennett’s gonna shrug, more worried about chasing Wren or Leia than my situation. And Delaney will probably swoon, thinking it’s the best thing ever. And my dad? He’s not one of those ‘I’m gonna clean my shotgun’ dads.” She squeezes my forearm. “I promise, you’re good.”
Her words should ease me, but the weight still presses down on me. I’ve thought a lot about why it’s so important to me for her family not to hate me because of the situation we’ve found ourselves in, and I keep saying it’s because they’re my kid’s family, and I’ll be an active part in their lives. But I think part of it is also that I want them to like me for Romy. Think I’m worthy of being the father of their grandchild. How could they possibly though, when we’re announcing Romy’s pregnancy and telling them we’re going to co-parent instead of be a couple?
“I don’t want them to think I’m some jackass who left you high and dry. It’s bad enough that I was careless enough not to use a condom. That might say everything he needs to know about me.”
“My parents know people have sex before marriage. And believe me, Bennett’s story is a doozy compared to ours.”
“Really, what?”
She shakes her head. “I’ll tell you later.”
Romy slides her hand into mine as if that’s going to soothe my fears. Her thumb brushes across my knuckles, and surprisingly, her affection does calm me a bit.
We climb the steps to the back porch, and she walks into the house. I thought we’d have a few more seconds while we waited for someone to answer the door.
My nerves sharpen into a steel edge. I realize that I feel the same way I did the first time I stepped onstage in a packed arena, the spotlight burning down on me. Somehow it almost feels harder tonight, and it’s just a table full of her family. But these people’s opinions mean more to me than thousands of nameless, faceless fans in the crowd.
“Hey, Mom. Dad,” Romy calls, leading me through the house.
The house is everything I’d expect from the Owens. Pictures of the kids at different ages. Christmases, Halloweens, school pictures, sports pictures all proudly displayed. Everyone smiling and posed. Laughing impromptu ones, too. Love seeps out of every wall and surface.
My throat tightens. I don’t belong here. I’m never going to be a family member to them. I’m just going to be the dad of one of their grandchildren.
I hover behind Romy. She releases my hand, and I almost reach for it back like a lifeline. The love in this house crowds in from all corners. I’m glad that Romy had it, but it’s a reminder of everything I wanted once upon a time that I never got.
Her mom is at the stove, lifting foil off a pan, while her dad tosses a salad. Appetizers line the counter. Romy doesn’t hesitate, sitting and digging into bruschetta. I stand stiffly behind her, unsure what to do.
Darla glances over her shoulder. “Hey, Zander, nice of you to join us.”
She wipes her hands on a dish towel, taps Brad’s shoulder, and crosses the room. I extend my hand, expecting a shake, but she walks right into my unopened arms.
“No handshakes here, big guy—just hugs.”
