The next day, I smooth my hand down the front of the darkgreen sweater I chose to wear. It sort of hides my small baby bump, which is key since I don’t know how today is going to go. I want desperately to be able to share the news with my mother. But not if she’s going to twist it around somehow.
That’s also why I wanted to show up early. So I can be seated when she arrives, letting the table conceal the rounding of my stomach.
But my plan is foiled when I walk inside to see her already handing her coat to one of the hosts. She turns and spots me, and a small yet surprisingly genuine-looking smile creases her face.
“Hello, Lark.” She leans in to press an air-kiss in the vicinity of my cheek.
“Hi, Mom.”
Her gaze doesn’t drop to my stomach, which I count as a small mercy, as we’re led to our table. We sit down and the waiter asks for our drink order.
“I’ll have a glass of the Chablis, please,” Mom says.
“Just water for me.” I give him a small smile. “I have to go back to work.”
He nods and is gone. For a long moment, neither one of us speaks. Personally, I have no idea what to say. This lunch was her idea, but if it’s going to be nothing more than awkward silence, I might feign an emergency and leave.
“I spoke to Cordelia yesterday morning.”
Oh. Crap.
I rub my hands along the tops of my thighs to try and stop them from bouncing. So that’s what this is all about. She already knows.
“It’s not Baron’s.”
Whythatis the first thing that comes out of my mouth, I don’t know. But it is, and now I have to move on.
“I’m in love with someone from the team. We’ve been friends for a long time, and when I ended things with Baron, I realized our friendship was something more. We didn’t plan on getting pregnant, but it happened and we’re very happy about it.”
I finish speaking and can feel my pulse thundering in my veins. I’m certain my cheeks are flushed, and I might very well be leaving bruises on my thighs from gripping them so hard.
But then, instead of the condemning lecture I’m expecting, my mother just looks at me, her expression a mix of emotions I don’t know how to make sense of
“Oh, Lark,” she murmurs softly. “Congratulations. Are you feeling well?”
It takes me a second to adjust, to lower my defenses enough to nod.
“That’s good. I was so sick the first few weeks with you. Couldn’t keep anything down except for crackers and peppermint tea.”
I clear my throat. “Yeah, I was sick at first. That’s what made me go to the doctor, and they gave me a pregnancy test. It was quite the shock.”
Her hand reaches out over the table, but when I don’t move to take it, she slowly draws it back. I watch carefully as she straightens her spine, lacing her fingers together on the table in front of her.
“Lark, I owe you an apology.”
I blink slowly.
“I know we’ve never been close. And when you announced your engagement to Baron was over, that your relationship was over, well, your father and I did not handle that well. I acknowledge that. But once I was over the shock of it, I realized just how disconnected I was from my own daughter. To not realize how trapped you felt? How we made you feel pressured into staying with him?” She shakes her head in dismay, and I’m instantly transported back in time to the day I told my parents it was over with Baron.
Somehow, I had found the courage to tell them the truth. That the only reason I stayed with Baron was because I thought it was what they wanted me to do. Not because I loved him. At the time, my father waved his hand at me and dismissed my feelings with a scoff. My mother, however, was silent. I guess she was dealing with the emotions she’s describing now.
“Your father and I argued about it for a long time. He thought you were being dramatic and your decision to end things with Baron was impulsive. Something you’d regret. I tried to tell him I believed you and we should support your choice.” Regret colours her tone. “I’m sorry I didn’t reach out sooner to tell you that.”
This time, I’m the one to place my hand on the table, covering one of hers. “Mom, it’s okay.”
“No, Lark, it’s not.” She raises her head and looks me straight in the eyes. “It’s not alright that my own daughter felt she needed to marry a man to make her parents happy. And it’s not alright that you didn’t feel you could tell me that you started seeing someone who madeyouhappy. And it’s certainly far from alright that I had to find out you were pregnant from Cordeliabloody Hazelwood!”
“I’m sorry,” I start to say, but she shakes her head.
