LEWIS
Suffice it to say I couldn’t concentrate on work for shit after Callie left. She promised she was fine to drive, but I insisted she text me to let me know she’d arrived home. I was gratified when she did. I replied that I’d drop by her cottage at three o’clock in the morning for our first date.
Did you mean to type 3AM?
I did. At this time of year, it’s twilight.
What the hell are we doing at 3AM?
You’re used to 3AM starts, no?
Aye, but that doesn’t answer my question.
You’ll just need to wait and see.
Honestly, I was glad for the distraction of my family returning to the house in late afternoon. I’d spent all my work time instead planning our three a.m. date and buying baby books. I wasclueless about babies, and I hated that feeling of incompetence. By the time Callie gave birth, I’d know everything I needed to know. It was easier to deal with practical stuff like knowledge than to really think about the reality of having a baby in our lives that we had to feed and clothe and keep alive. Or how this would turn our lives upside down. Or how we had so little time left for just the two of us to reconnect.
I wanted to make the most of it.
By the time I got up the nerve to leave the office to give my parents the news (Callie’s mum and Aunt Ally already knew, and she was returning home to tell her Dad and brother), my wee sister had disappeared.
“Where’s Mor?” I asked my parents as I wandered into the open-plan living space. They were working together—Dad put away groceries while Mum prepped to cook dinner.
Mum flicked me a harried look. “A toddler puked all over her today at preschool and she says she’s traumatized and doesn’t want to talk to anyone.”
I flinched, realizing that very situation was in my foreseeable future. “So … she’s in a mood?”
“Pretty much. Just leave her be.”
I really wanted to tell everyone at the same time, but … “I have to tell you something.”
They both stopped what they were doing because my voice was shaking.
Clenching my hands into fists, I attempted to get myself together, but reality was kind of sinking in now and my knees were definitely trembling. Adrenaline had to be coursing through my body, understandable considering my entire life had changed in an instant. “Well … first, I put an offer in on the house.”
Dad beamed. “Was it accepted?”
I held up a hand to ward him off. “I haven’t heard back, but that’s not really the main news. When I was coming back from the viewing, Callie showed up. And, uh, well, for a bit of context—and I’m sorry if this is TMI—she and I slept together in London almost six weeks ago, and she is very much pregnant as a consequence of … that … event. Pregnant. With my baby. Callie.”
Mum’s mouth dropped open like a cartoon, the corn cob she clutched in one hand and the knife in the other frozen in midair as her entire body ceased movement.
Dad took a tentative step around the island. “Are you … are you … you’re going to be involved?”
I scowled. “Of course I fucking am.” It hadn’t even occurred to me I wouldn’t be.
My father deflated with relief. “Thank God.”
Frankly, I was insulted. “You thought I wouldn’t?”
“I thought she might not want you to be,” Dad assured me. “I know things are difficult there.”
“I’m going to be a grandmother?” Mum asked, looking a bit spaced out, hands still hovering.
Dad approached her and gently took the knife from her grip. “Yes, Regan, our son is going to be a father, and you are going to be a very beautiful, very young grandmother. That’s happy news. Right?”
I sagged, like air deflating out of a balloon at my dad’s words.
Mum stared into his eyes. “Our son is going to be a father.”
