My mother turns toward him immediately. “You knew?”
Ethan gives a small shrug. “Yeah.”
She looks between us again, shaking her head slowly. “Well,” she breathes. “That’s… wow.”
My mother laughs then. It comes out half breath, half disbelief. “I can’t believe this.”
Her hand moves from my wrist to my fingers, holding on tightly.
“You were so sick when you were younger. The doctors always warned us that…” She stops herself again, blinking rapidly.“I just didn’t want to hope for something that might never happen.”
“I know.”
Tears slip down her cheeks before she can stop them. She wipes them away quickly with the side of her hand and then laughs again, embarrassed by the emotion. “I’m sorry. I’m crying at the table.”
“You cry when the grocery store runs out of your favorite tea,” Ethan points out.
She shoots him a look. “That was a supply chain problem.”
Kiren’s quiet voice enters the conversation then. “We are very happy about the baby.”
My mother turns to him. She studies his face carefully.
There’s no uncertainty in his expression.
Her gaze softens. “You are?” she asks gently.
“Yes.”
His hand remains over mine as he speaks. The warmth of it spreads slowly through my fingers.
Mom looks between the two of us again, then back at my stomach. Her hand lifts slowly from the table and presses lightly over her chest once more.
“Well,” she breathes. “I guess I’m going to be a grandmother.”
Ethan lets out a low whistle. “Holy hell.”
Mom turns toward him immediately. “Language.”
He raises both hands in surrender. “Sorry. Holy… heck.”
She ignores him and looks back at me, tears still bright in her eyes, but now joined by joy. Real, uncomplicated joy.
She squeezes my hand again. “This is wonderful, Rowan.”
Her voice is warm enough to fill the entire room. “A baby.” She laughs softly again, shaking her head in disbelief. “I still can’t quite wrap my mind around it.”
I feel my shoulders loosen as the tension I didn’t fully acknowledge begins to ease. But I also know my mother well enough to recognize what comes next. Joy always arrives first with her. Concern follows close behind. I can already see it beginning to gather quietly behind her eyes.
She doesn’t bring it up right away. She finishes the meal first. That’s her way. When something big happens, she continues with the small things for a while, like giving the moment room to breathe before she looks at it directly.
Plates are cleared while Ethan complains mildly about helping with one arm. My mother ignores him and stacks the dishes. Water runs in the sink, and the kitchen fills with the faint scent of soap and rosemary.
Kiren carries the empty serving bowl to the counter without being asked.
Ethan eventually pushes back from the table and disappears toward the living room, muttering something about checking the score of a game. The television comes on a minute later, the volume low.
My mother dries her hands slowly on a dish towel. Then she looks at me. “Come here a minute.”
