I take her hand. “We actually have something to share too,” I say.
Katia straightens so fast her chair squeaks.
Coach narrows his eyes, like he’s not entirely sure he wants to hear what we have to share.
“Talia’s pregnant.”
The silence lasts maybe half a second.
Then Katia absolutely loses her mind.
A squeal tears out of her so loudly that two people at the next table turn around.
“Oh my God!” she shouts, launching out of her chair. “I KNEW IT. No, I didn’t know it, but I spiritually suspected it!”
She rounds the table and throws her arms around Talia, who’s laughing and crying at the same time.
“I’m going to be an aunt,” Katia declares dramatically. “A cool aunt. A devastatingly stylish aunt. This child is doomed in the best possible way.”
I laugh, full and open and happy.
Talia hugs Katia back, cheeks flushed, eyes bright.
“Congratulations,” Katia says, then immediately ruins the sincerity with, “I call naming rights.”
“No,” Talia and I say in unison.
“Rude.”
Coach hasn’t spoken yet. He’s sitting very still.
His gaze moves from Talia to me to her stomach and back again.
Then he nods once.
Just once.
“Good.”
That’s it.
One word.
But relief floods through me so hard it almost makes me dizzy.
Good.
Katia points at him. “That was way too calm. I need more.”
Coach lifts one shoulder. “I am pleased.”
“You’re going to be a grandfather,” she says. “You can use more than two syllables.”
He considers that. “Very pleased.”
That does it.
Talia laughs so hard she has to lean into me, and I wrap an arm around her waist automatically, my hand settling over her stomach without even thinking.
