I couldn’t fathom the sums that followed below the announcement—full tuition as well as enough living to cover all their expenses.
Hurrying to the bathroom where I could at least happily whisper behind a closed door, I dialed the group chat. Lennox picked up.
“We’re both here, Mom.” His voice … just from the sound of it, I could tell how happy and proud he was.
“Lennox, Will, my babies!” I half-whispered, afraid to disturb my sister’s sleep routine. “Oh my God, boys, I can’t even …”Oh great, I found myself choking on my words, crying. “I’m so proud of you,” I managed to expel.
“Mom, don’t cry,” Will said.
“Just a little.” I chuckled over the tears.
“You’re at work?” Lennox asked. I purposefully audio called them, not video.
“Yes,” I replied, hating that even such a happy moment had to be tarnished with lies.
“We have to celebrate when we get home,” he said.
“We’ll have lots to celebrate,” Will added.
“Yes, we will,” I said, wiping my eyes and nose with June’s three-ply tissues in her immaculate, pretty little bathroom.
Sleep wasn’t an option now; there were too many things going to keep my heart drumming erratically. But eventually, the thought of my sons getting what they needed, combined with my exhaustion, did the work and I fell asleep.
June rose early and left for work. I got up only after she left. I didn’t have to get up early because I could walk to work from here instead of taking Pretty. Moreover, I wanted to give my sister her space, at least in the morning.
I told Vi the good news at work. She was not feeling great, but that put a smile on her face. “Finally, some good news around here,” she said.
That evening, as much as I tried to arrive late to June’s, we found ourselves having a late dinner together. I told her about the scholarships. “I could probably move out soon. I just need to—”
“That’s okay,” she cut me off. “I know it will take time.”
“But soon,” I said, trying to instill hope into her and myself that I’d be out of her hair soon enough.
When we cleared the dishes, my phone vibrated on the little dining table. I had kept it on silent mode ever since the noise it had made last night.
“A message from Will,” June said as she peeked at it. I was washing the dishes, and she was handing them to me from the table.
I wiped my hands on my pants and picked up the phone. Opening the message, I froze. It was a closeup of my son’s forefinger and thumb holding a silver ring.
“Is everything okay?” June asked, probably noticing the change in me.
I turned the phone to her.
“Oh.”
“Right?” I huffed a confused chuckle.
“Why is this generation determined on communicating even crucial things through pictures? You could have used a call about this,” she said with anI’m mystifiedshrug and opened palms.
I scoffed, my mind still trying to wrap itself around that picture. Things in my life were happening at a wildfire pace. “He might have wanted me to faint privately and not with him on the line.”
“What’s this, Will?” I texted. He had told me it was serious, butthisserious? He was only nineteen. My age when I got pregnant with him. Did he get her pregnant? I didn’t want my sons repeating my mistakes. Having them was the best thing I had done, but if I could have chosen my timing, I would have done it later. And with someone else.
“Something I thought about already, but now with the scholarships and everything, I can do it. Don’t worry; it’s silver. I’ll replace it when I have the money. And no, there’s no other reason you should worry about.” He had read my mind. The boys knew they had been conceived before their dad and I had gotten married. I wasn’t ashamed of that.
Now his “lots to celebrate” comment from last night made more sense.
“Will, Stephanie seems wonderful, but it’s very new and you two are so young. Can we talk about this?”I texted, remembering my mother’s words when I had told her about Jamie and my pregnancy. “You’re nineteen and a half, it’s not like I can legally change your mind,” she had said back then. If only I could have told her about everything that was happening to me now without worrying that I’d worryherto an early death.
