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“You’re bigger than me now, and I hate it.”
“So you keep reminding me.” He laughed. “Spill it, Katie. You’re gonna need backup when we get home, trust me.”
“I’m not sure where to start.”
“Try at the beginning.” He winked.
So she began her sordid tale of woe—because what else could she call it? Her life had become some fucked-up Shakespearean tragedy. After hearing the story of how she kissed a stranger in a park, the masquerade ball, Salena’s murder, loving Brendan and how Cameron fit into all of this, her brother commented on only one thing.
“Wow!” He was grinning. “I’m gonna be an uncle?”
“Yeah.”
“Mom’s gonna shit.” Kevin chuckled, shaking his head.
That was the understatement of the year. Her mother was going to have an apoplectic fit, and her aunts? She dreaded the thought of walking through that door, but what other choice did she have?
Katie sighed. “Yeah.”
“I think you best leave some parts out when you tell Mom and Dad.” He reached over, giving her a noogie. “They don’t need to know all that.”
He made her laugh, sad as she was. “Which parts?”
“You know, sex clubs and stuff.” He leaned back against the seat, put his hand on the shifter, and turned his head toward her. “Better make it G-rated, sister. Venture into NC-17 territory, and you’re asking for trouble. Mom found my condom stash, so trust me on this.”
The closer they got to the house, the more difficult it became to breathe. Katie felt nauseous, whether it was from anxiety or little bean, she couldn’t say. She leaned toward the former, since she hadn’t gotten sick until she puked lasagna in the snow.
Kevin pulled into the driveway, grabbed her hand, and squeezed it. “It’s going to be okay. You know I got your back, Katie. I tell you that all the time.”
As it turned out, apoplectic fit was the understatement of the year. Katie sat alone in her room, staring at the hideous flowered wallpaper she’d picked out in sixth grade, while her mother wailed to her aunts in the kitchen—like her being pregnant was tantamount to being diagnosed with a terminal disease.
“My life is so not over,” she whispered to the flowers on the wall, even though it felt like maybe it was.
Katie turned her phone back on. She’d turned it off when she got in the Uber this morning. She sifted through the notifications. Kelly, Cam, Chloe, and even Matt had texted her. Nothing from Brendan. She didn’t read the messages. That would make the tears start all over again when she’d finally gotten them under control. Maybe.
The tap that sounded on her door was soft, which meant it wasn’t her mother or one of her aunts. “Come in.”
Andrew Copeland sat beside his daughter on her bed. He didn’t say a word. He just put his arm around her, patting her head that rested on his shoulder. They stayed like that for a time, supported in the silent comfort he gave her. Why couldn’t the women in the family be like her father and Kevin?
“I love you, honey.” Her father rested his head on hers and stroked her hair. “I just wanted you to know that.”
“I love you too, Daddy.”
Her rock. She felt like a little girl again, crying over Missy Reilly not wanting to be her best friend anymore. He’d done the same thing that day. Just held her. Her father never said much. God knows, her mother did more than enough talking for the two of them. But his hugs said a thousand words without him having to say anything at all.
“Everything is going to be just fine, Katie. I promise.” He gave her shoulders a squeeze and lifted his head from hers. “Now I’m going to tell you, as a man, it’s in our nature to protect the women we love, even from ourselves. I could tell that Brendan loves you, and it wasn’t the pretty bauble on your wrist that told me that.”
She nodded. “I know he does.”
“He deserves to know he’s going to be a father. Keeping that from him isn’t right, honey.”
A lie of omission is still a lie.
“I’m going to tell him, but now isn’t the right time.”
He stood, his hand on her shoulder. “There’s no such thing as the right time. His troubles could last for quite a while, but knowing he has a baby on the way could affect the decisions he makes.”
“That’s just it, Daddy,” Katie said, glancing up at her father. “I don’t want it to.”
