“But?” Emmy prompts ominously.
“But just let me have a moment to let it sink in!” I tell my best friend with a definite edge to my voice. “You can’t monitor my moods, Emmy; it’s just not fair. I’m allowed to feel a little overwhelmed, or anxious, or whatever, okay? And it’snoreflection on you, Ben, or the Wilson family in general.All right?”
Emmy blinks at me, looking stunned, and I realize my voicemayhave risen a little. But this dynamic has been going on for nearly a year, ever since Ben and Bethany started dating, and I cannot conceive of dealing with it for another twenty or thirty years.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her sincerely. “But I just feel like you’re always analyzing my reactions and then taking them personally. And if we’re going to be in-laws, we’ve got to get this straight between us.”
She stares at me for a moment more, then her mouth twitches into a smile. “Fair enough,” she agrees. “I know I’ve been a little… much about this. You’re allowed to feel a little, I don’t know, mixed.” She sighs. “I’m a little mixed, too, if I’m honest,which is probably why I’m acting like I’m not. I’m trying to convince myself that I’m not about to lose my firstborn son to a wonderful woman he so clearly adores.” She gives me a wry, twisted smile. “You’re not the only one who feels ambivalent, even if I don’t seem like I do.”
“I get that.” I reach over, clumsily because of my big bump, to give her a hug. She embraces me tightly, and we’re both sniffing suspiciously as we pull back.
Then I hear an almighty holler, and Hooch is galloping toward me, his face flushed, making me wonder if he’s secretly had a nip or two from his flask.
“All right, Miss Abby! It’s your turn for the reel!” he cries, and grabs both my hands, pulling me toward the lineup on the dance floor.
“Oh, Hooch, I don’t think I—”
Too late. Hooch is already pulling me down the line, do-si-doing with the best of them. I am already breathless, and I am seventy-five percent sure I really am going to wet myself.
Chapter nineteen
Fortunately, I avoid any embarrassing accidents. I finish the reel with Hooch with some almighty Braxton Hicks contractions, though, but by the time we are heading home, everything has settled down. It is a beautiful night, the sky spangled with stars, the air still and drowsy. The moon is nearly full, like a bright silver coin in the sky.
Ben is taking Bethany home, and I wish we’d had more of a chance to chat, but she’s agreed to come over tomorrow to talk things over and also be at the dinner with Mike and Diana, along with Ben. There really is a lot going on.
By the next afternoon, when I am rolling out pie crust for a raspberry pie—the raspberries picked by Rose and Jack only that morning, as bright as jewels in their bowl—I am feeling a little more accepting of everything. Well, sort of. I’d still like to talk through things with Bethany since we never got a chance before and also broach the subject of wedding plans. There’s a lot to discuss before Mike and Diana descend on us. I hope my daughter is up for it.
It’s mid-afternoon before Bethany breezes in, smiling easily, seeming like someone who is floating on top of the world. I smile just to see her, some of my nebulous worries assuaged… for now.
“Hey, there,” I greet her. “Still floating?”
“A little,” she admits, and swipes a raspberry from the bowl, popping it into her mouth. “It all feels like a dream.” She shakes her head slowly, then holds up her left hand. “Look at that!”
I give the ring a closer examination since I wasn’t able to look at it properly last night. It’s tiny and beautiful.
“Perfect,” I pronounce.
Bethany grins before propping her elbows on the counter.
“Seriously, Mom, are you freaking out?” she asks in a tone that suggests she would expect me to.
“I’m not freaking out,” I reply carefully. “You know Ben asked for Dad’s blessing? So, we had a heads up.”
“Still.” She sounds like she almost wishes Iwasfreaking out, which leaves me a little bemused.
“I’m not freaking out,” I state firmly. “But—”
“Iknewthere would be a but!” she cries, exultant.
I sigh. Right now, I am wondering if my daughter has the emotional maturity to be married. Why does shewantme to be in a tizzy about this?
“There’s nobut, Bethany,” I tell her a little sternly. “I suppose I wish we could have talked about it first,” I add more gently. “Not for us to grant permission or anything like that, but because we’re your parents and we love you, and we hope that you might seek our advice and what wisdom we have to offer when you make one of this life’s most important decisions.”
I didn’t mean to pile on the guilt, but I obviously did, because Bethany’s eyes suddenly fill with tears.
“I didn’t think about it like that,” she whispers, looking wretched. “I’m so sorry, Mom. I was just thinking about how… how surprised you’d be, and I don’t know.” She sniffs and wipesher eyes. “I was excited. But I didn’t think… I didn’t think about talking to you guys about it first. I should have.”
“Well,” I reply, keeping my voice gentle, “there are a few things you haven’t thought about talking to us about.” I pause while Bethany bites her lip. “It feels like you’re afraid of our disapproval, Bethany,” I continue quietly. “And I know that motivated you in a negative way back in Princeton, but I promise you, Dad and I are not disapproving. We just want to be involved, but more than that, we wantyouto want us to be involved.”
