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“BYOB?” Mike asked.
“Yeah, we can do BYOB,” I agreed, “but let’s have maybe a bottle of wine or a six-pack just in case someone forgets.”
We made our plans, and I texted our friends, and by the end of the day, we had a proper cookout organized in the backyard. There was one picnic table and a fire pit. Mike bought a tiny grill at the hardware store, so we had to cook the meat in shifts. Macy brought her potato salad, and Lindsey brought pasta salad again. I had picked up chips, fruit and juice for the kids, and everyone had brought their own beverage. I took Macy and Lindsey on a tour of the house to show them what we had done with the place.
“It’s so cute,” Lindsay approved.
I took them downstairs to look at what Mike and I were calling the “club room.”
“Ooh,” Macy said, shifting the toddler on her hip, “computers.”
I grinned. “Not the best use of the space, I’ll agree. But when we get our sound system and a pool table, we’ll move the computers upstairs.”
“You could put the computers in your old bedroom,” Lindsey suggested.
I sidestepped that conversation by offering one of my own. “Mike told me the whole story.”
“What was it?” Macy asked, interested.
“It’s not my story to tell,” I started cautiously, wanting to share enough to put my mind at ease, but not so much that it would endanger Mike or his friend. “But he is innocent. He was trying to save his friend’s life.”
“Did he?” Lindsey asked.
“He did,” I confirmed. “But he also got six months in prison for it.”
“Wow.” Lindsey looked at Macy.
Macy tilted her head. “Sounds like quite a guy.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“So, how did he react when you told him your secret?” Lindsey wanted to know.
I flinched. “I haven’t told him yet.”
Both women were up in arms, fighting with each other to get in the first word.
“Why not?” Macy wailed.
“You’re not doing yourself any favors,” Lindsey pronounced.
“I’m scared!” I defended myself.
“That’s not going to help,” Macy argued.
“I know,” I snapped.
“No, what I meant was keeping a secret is not going to help you face your fear,” she clarified.
I started back across the room. I knew what they were saying was right; I just couldn’t seem to find it in me to share the news. All the reasonable arguments ran through my head. Mike was the father—he deserved to know. Telling him wouldn’t get any easier the longer I waited. Mike had told me his secret; now I should tell him mine. But no amount of logic could trump the cold dread I felt at revealing my pregnancy. I was convinced Mike wouldn’t want me afterward, no matter how caring he seemed.
“Tammy, wait,” Macy called.
I turned around, tears flooding my eyes.
Macy came forward and wrapped me in a hug. “We’re on your side.”
I let myself be held, draping my arms around Macy’s waist. Emily chose that moment to grab a fistful of my hair and tug. I squealed in horror, dropping my cousin like a hot potato. We worked together to detach the tiny but powerful fingers and came out of the fiasco laughing. We climbed up the stairs to join the party again.
