I hid it from her, of course, because I didn’t want her to feel bad.
Both of us had a part in getting her pregnant, and even though it was a very horrible time to have something like this spring up, I genuinely felt thrilled.
But life circumstances made the announcement, which should be a blessing, feel like a weight to carry, and I needed advice.
So I turned to the only place I knew to go where I'd get the wisdom I needed, even if it was wrapped up in lectures or nasty comments—my parents' house.
I climbed out of the car and walked to the front door, letting myself in with the key I'd had since childhood, and just like the last time I visited, nothing had changed.
"Nathan?" My mother appeared at the top of the staircase, dressed in her house coat and slippers.
Her hair was tied up in a scarf for bed already, and I realized I never checked the time before showing up. "I didn't know you were coming by."
"I need to speak with Dad. Is he home?"
"In his study. He's been in there all evening working on something for the hospital foundation." She came down the stairs and touched my arm. "Is everything alright? You look upset."
"I'm fine, Mom. Just need some advice." I kissed her cheek. "Don't let me interrupt your evening."
She studied my face for a moment, clearly unconvinced, but nodded and stepped aside.
I walked down the hallway to my father's study and knocked on the door.
When he didn't answer, I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
He sat behind his massive desk, reading glasses perched on his nose and papers spread across the surface.
When he saw me, his expression shifted from concentration to assessment with one eyebrow raised.
"Nathan. This is unexpected." He removed his glasses and set them down on his papers. "What brings you here at this hour?"
Glancing at his watch, he lifted his eyes back to meet mine, and I'd have sworn I saw concern on his face.
"I need your advice." I closed the door behind me but remained standing by it. "About a personal matter."
"Personal matters are rarely urgent enough to warrant showing up unannounced." He leaned back in his chair. "But go ahead. What's troubling you?"
Somehow, in the middle of that response, I felt the cold chill of his judgment even though I hadn’t even told him yet.
It was like he was waiting for the trap to spring and I was his victim.
For a split second I considered leaving, but where else would I go?
I took a breath and just blurted it out. What else could I do? "Ember's pregnant."
The silence that followed was damning.
His expression soured, and I saw his rapid assessment of my situation complete with the consequences that would roll out and cloak my life in shame, and maybe his too.
"I see," he said finally. "How convenient for her."
"Convenient?" Shame rose in my chest.
I didn't know why I even came.
I knew this would be his response—totally unhelpful. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Come now, Nathan. You're an intelligent man. Surely, you can see what's happened here." He stood and walked to the window overlooking the garden. "A young woman takes a position with a wealthy, prominent physician. Maneuvers herself into a highly visible community role. Initiates a relationship with her employer. And now, conveniently, she's pregnant."
