She met my gaze head-on. “I feel like something else is bothering you.”
She was right, but then she so often was.
“It’s killing me, not being able to share the news.” Mostly, it hurt not to be able to talk about it with her while I was throwing a hissy fit about not getting any. “Eventually we have to tell people, unless you don’t want to.”
We had verbally discussed the secrecy aspect during the trying phase, but there was nothing in the contract about who we would tell and when it would happen. Sure, it would eventually have to get out because I couldn’t be in my kid’s life incognito, but the longer we kept it under wraps, the deeper the wound of inadequacy festered.
While my mind ran all the way to the finish line, Franky said, “Jason, of course we will be sharing the news when it’s a good time to do that. Maybe after the first ultrasound in early January? I just want to get through the first trimester first.”
Of course she would be worried, especially being older. A lot could go wrong in the first three months.
“Sounds good. I want to tell people, but I also like the fact it’s our secret.”
She smiled. “So do I, and I kind of want to hold onto it a little longer. As soon as it’s out there, everyone will have an opinion. They already did when they found out I planned to do this my way.”
“You’re worried about what people will think? Or that they won’t understand why you chose me?”
Frowning, she pushed her glasses back. “What’s to understand? You’re an incredibly viable candidate. Anyone could see that.”
Everly didn’t. But what did that matter now? My ex was happy. I was happy. No sex in my immediate future, but at least Franky and I were talking.
The world, previously tilted off its axis, was right again.
“If anything, people will wonder why you chose me,” she added. “That’s the true oddity here.”
I chuckled. “Why wouldn’t I want a brainy mom for my kid?”
Her smile froze for a moment. Before I could ask if I’d said the wrong thing, there was a knock on the door and her assistant called out, “Dr. St. James, your graduate student seminar starts in five.”
“Thanks, Jo.” She turned back to me, her expression smooth again. “Are we good?”
“Yes, Doc. We’re good.”
Chapter Thirty
Franky
* * *
“I’m absolutely stuffed!” Rosie leaned back in her chair and patted her stomach. “Not sure I have room for pie.”
“A full stomach should never get in the way of pie,” Cade said.
“Amen.” Dante stood and started clearing away plates.
As my only contribution to the Thanksgiving meal was two tins of cranberry sauce, I jumped up to intercept.
“I’ll take care of the dishes. Finish your wine, relax, take it easy.”
“Be thankful?” Vi said with a grin. She picked up her glass. “I won’t say no to someone else doing the washing up. Devon, could you help your sister, please?”
My fifteen-year-old brother rolled his eyes but did as he was asked.
I loved our blended family Thanksgiving with Rosie, her dads, my parents, and brother together for the holiday. Dante and my dad did most of the cooking while Cade and Vi gossiped like they didn’t already catch up at least once a week at their regular coffee date. Cat was sometimes with us, but this year she was spending the holiday with her husband’s family in Westchester, New York. Earlier, we had all crowded around my laptop and marveled at how big my niece and nephew had grown.
I wondered what they would think of the fact there would be another guest at the table next year. My child. Would Jason stop by for future Thanksgivings? We had outlined sharing holidays in the contract, and if he truly wanted to be involved, he might be here.
Over the last ten days, he had made either daily stops by my office for lunch or had sent over food using Kennedy Durand’s Can Do concierge delivery service, a popular option for the Rebels players and staff. Taking care of the baby, though I liked to think he was taking care of me.
