They weren’t even in the house yet before I was opening the door and saying, frantically, “What’s wrong?”
“Why do you always go there, Mom?” Caroline groaned.
“Because the three of you don’t show up together unannounced unless something terrible has happened.”
It was true, whether they wanted to admit it or not. When Caroline was suspended for smoking in the bathroom? The three of them. When Sloane ran her car into the telephone pole? The three of them. When Emerson announced that she wasn’t going to college after all? The three of them.
“Just tell me,” I said. “Put me out of my misery.” Their little-girl problems had seemed big at the time. Their grown-up problems, I was learning, were much, much worse.
“Mom, inside, please,” Emerson said.
My heart sank. So it was Emerson. I knew it. I knew she was still sick. I knew that damn doctor was wrong. A mother’s intuition is always right. I glanced her up and down. But wow. She looked incredible. She looked the healthiest I had seen her look in years. I guess you never can tell what’s lurking underneath.
“Well, Mom,” she started nervously, “I fainted on set with Caroline yesterday.”
When she said she fainted, I almost fainted, because I knew this wasn’t good. I was absolutely beside myself, wracked with grief.
My breath was getting shallow as she said, “Caroline took me to the hospital, and they were in contact with my New York doctor all along the way...”
Tears were running down my face, and sobs were caught in my throat, as she said, “And, well, it turns out that I’m pregnant.”
“Wait,” I said, my brain trying to catch up. I had been so sure that she was going to hit me with some sort of death sentence or life-threatening illness. I was already jumping into mother mode, making mental lists of doctors I needed to call, friends I needed to consult. “You’re pregnant and you’re dying?”
She looked at me like I was dense. “No, Mom. I’m great. I’m not dying. I’m not even sick. My blood work was amazing. I’m just pregnant. Only pregnant.”
There was a knock on the front door. “Not now,” I said, but obviously not loud enough, because Kyle’s voice called, “Emerson!”
I put my finger up to my mouth, but Caroline called, “In here.”
I gave her a look. Well, this was great. I had so many questions. Did Mark know? Were they going to get married now? Was she coming back home? How many weeks was she? Could she still work?
“I’m so sorry, Emerson,” he said. “I shouldn’t have flown off the handle like that. I’m happy for you and Mark; I really am. I had forty-six days to really work myself up, and it came at you all at once.”
Now I was really confused.
Emerson looked at Caroline and then at Sloane. Sloane just shrugged, and I knew something else was coming.
“Kyle, I need you to sit down,” Emerson said.
He crossed his arms. “I will not sit down.”
She touched his arm gently and said, very slowly, “The baby isn’t Mark’s.”
Oh, this was great. Just great. Now I was going to be onJerry Springer. I had never used this expression in my whole life, but I was going to wring that child’s neck. I absolutely was.
This look of realization came over Kyle’s face that was totally lost on me. “Oh, my God,” he said. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
Emerson nodded. I was so confused. “Look,” she said, “I don’t expect anything from you. You deserve to know, but this doesn’t have to change your life in any way—”
I was finally catching on. “What?” I practically spat. “You andKyleare having a baby?”
“Well—I mean—” Emerson stammered. “I am having a baby. It’s up to Kyle how involved he wants to be.”
“Oh, my Lord,” Sloane said. “That is going to be the world’s most beautiful baby.”
“What?” I asked again. “How?”
Caroline was saying, “Well, Mom, a boy and a girl meet, and they fall in love,” as Emerson said, “You took my wedding, Mom. I was sad. It’s a legitimate thing.”
