“As in, going after Dad? I doubt it. What can he find?” I change the subject before she can answer. “Where’s Joy?”
“At the piano with Dad. He asked her to play. He remembered she could. It’s really good for him that she’s here, Mal. And it’s good for me, too. Can she come to the shop with me tomorrow morning?”
“Sure. She had an awesome time there.”
“It’s awesome having her there.” She sounds wistful. “My niece.”
I wiggle closer to her. “You’d be a good mom, Annie.”
“You think so?” she asks.
“Of course.” But I sense her uncertainty. “Don’t you?”
As dark as the night is, I know that her eyes are a clear, honest green. Her voice is clear as well. “I’m not the most realistic person. Would I know what’s going on with my child, or just see what I want to see?”
I’m relieved that she knows this. She’s never expressed it before, certainly not to me. It’s definitely an admission.
Taking her hand, I face her. “You, sister, have bought into the image you created. Sunny Side Up? That’s optimism, and there’s nothing wrong with it. But just the fact that you asked this question is an answer. You’d know what was going on with your child, because you’d know to look deeper. You’d know to be realistic when realistic counts. Besides,” I add, grinning, “you’d have me to point things out.”
“Promise?” she begs. “I’m going to need you.”
My thoughts falter. There’s an urgency in her voice, an immediacy that suggests something beyond the hypothetical. She neither denies it nor looks away.
Cautiously, I ask, “Need? Present tense? As in… now?”
“In seven months.”
My heart thuds. I put a hand there. “Omigod. Annie. Seriously?”
She nods.
“Pregnant?”
Eyes wider, she nods again.
I slip an arm around her waist. “That’s terrific!”
“Is it?” she worries. “I haven’t told Bill yet. I keep thinking I’m not really pregnant or I’ll lose it, and then I won’t have to put him to the test. I’m not sure he wants to be tied down.”
I remember the way he reached for her at Gendy’s when she abruptly left the table. The spontaneity of the gesture said something. “He adores you.”
“But he didn’t ask for this. Birth control was my responsibility. If I force something on him, it could drive him away.”
She is right about that. Lord knew, in the course of my own decision-making, I’d met potential dads who didn’t want to be dads. Before meeting Bill, I’d have guessed he was one of them. Even expecting the worst, though, I’ve been impressed. Granted, I haven’t seen much. And his past isn’t stellar. And what he may like about Anne is the legitimacy of the Aldiss name. And his ink is way too much. But he did say the right thing about that to Joy. And he treats my sister with respect.
“You won’t drive him away,” I tell her, “and if you do, that says something about him.”
“But then I’ll be alone, just me and Dad. He thinks pregnant and unmarried is the height of immorality. Remember the awful things he said to you when you told him you were having Joy?”
Do I ever. “But it helped me prioritize what I wanted. Do you want this baby?”
“I stopped using birth control.”
Deliberate, then. Like me. I feel a connection to her in that. “So, it’s done.”
She continues to eye me plaintively. Still, I’m taken off-guard when she whispers, “What would Mom say?” Having distanced herself from our mother all those years ago, the fact that she cares touches me.
Smiling, I say, “Mom was a different person once she left here. She decided what she wanted and went for it. Isn’t that what you’ve done?”
