Sounds like an excuse to me.
Jay Haddon
Tell your family.
She didn’t reply and pocketed her phone again. When she walked back to the house, Finch was waiting outside for her.
“Have you eaten today?” he asked.
Her brother watched her constantly. It was almost as if Finch thought she was having the baby today.
“Stop it,” Blue hissed, moving closer.
“What?”
“This micromanaging shit.”
“It’s called concern,” her brother gritted out. “Until you tell the family, I’m the only one who is watching over you.”
“I don’t need watching.”
He folded his arms and stared at her.
“Hello!”
That was her sister’s voice.
“Birdie’s here with Sadie, who you adore, Finch. So go and see her and leave me alone,” Blue snapped. “I’m just going to wander through the garden some?—”
“No, you’re telling them now.”
“What? No, I’m not ready,” Blue said, her voice rising several octaves.
“Now, Blue. Mom will have some stuff to help you feel better.”
“I’m pregnant. I’m pretty sure it’ll take about five months before I feel better,” she snapped back.
He simply wrapped his fingers around her wrist and started walking. She had to follow or end up on her face.
“Let me go, Finch. I had already decided to tell them today, so you don’t need to drag me in there.”
He pushed her in front of him gently and then nudged her through the door.
“Come, sit. Finch, you can make those horrid coffees for you three, and I will make Hamish an herbal blend,” Meadow McAllister said. Today she wore a white caftan. She’d piled her hair on top of her head and poked several daisies through the bun.
Blue’s father wore a matching kaftan—her parents always dressed the same—and was seated with a smiling Sadie on his lap.
Her parents loved kids, and she knew they would not judge Blue for being pregnant. That wasn’t the McAllister way. Her family was accepting of most things and lived their lives prioritizing peace, love, personal freedom, and nonviolence. But she knew that some in town would judge her. Not a lot, but a few.
“Nothing horrid about my coffee, Mom,” Finch said after nudging Blue down into a chair.
Birdie had been watching her brother, but her eyes were now locked on Blue, questioning.
“What’s going on, Blue? I’ve felt like something wasn’t right since you returned to Lyntacky,” Birdie said softly as behind her, their parents and brother argued about the devil that was coffee and the harm it created to your internal organs.
“I’m okay, Birdie, but I have something to tell you.”
“What?”
