Page 68 of Parentmoon

“You’re eloping.” Jo’s tone is incredulous, and I groan.

“Kind of. We’d like to get married here. With you and Dallas present.” Michael waves toward me, holding my gaze, as if asking once again for permission to marry my little girl.

“What about wanting a church? And your gorgeous dress? And your father walking you down the aisle?” Jo peers at me before looking back at Keli and I’m humbled by her defense. She remembered the only stipulations I’d set: commitment before God and walking my girl down the aisle, handing over my right to take care of her, but not giving up my love for her.

Watching Jo, it hits me again. Pink. Fierce. She’s protecting me while still upset. I’d heard countless stories about Jo over the last year. Every one of them painting her brighter, stronger, vibrant. She was someone I wanted to know better, discover for myself. And my body still recalls our first meeting. When I received that first hug, and immediately knew I’d wanted more. I wanted what I suspected she’d offer a man like me. She was stability and love.

“We could find a church here,” Keli says. “But what’s more beautiful than nature, right, Daddy? You always said a garden is God’s promise, like rainbows and sunshine. And this is one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been.”

I tilt my head, seeing how my girl can twist things, giving me that smile that has me struggling to say no.

“I have something to replace my dress and Daddy can still hand me over to Michael.”

I snort, but Keli defends, “You know what I mean.” Her eyes narrow, reminding me again of her mother and yet she’s so different from Katherine. Thank the Lord.

“And you and Mom will be our witnesses,” Michael adds.

Jo looks at me, holding my gaze the longest she’s held it all morning. She’s waiting on me to answer as if I have the final say. These are grown adults standing here. They can do as they please, but I’m still honored they want our blessing. Plus, I want this woman looking at me for direction, for comfort. I want to be her rock.

“Sounds like we’re having a wedding on Thursday,” I say, holding eyes with Jo.

“Yee-haw,” Keli cheers, letting out the Southern girl she was raised to be. “And we have one last thing to share.” Her voice raises with additional enthusiasm. The two of them seem like they’re on a roll so I can only imagine what’s next.

Only I never expected the words they say in unison.

“We’re pregnant.”

Chapter 18

[Jo]

“Ahhh,” I squeal despite the tightness in my throat. Stepping forward with arms open wide, I pull Keli first into a deep hug. Woman to woman, being a mother is one of the greatest gifts.

“This is such a blessing,” I assure her, convinced deep down I believe it myself, but my emotions are pinging all over inside me.

Michael and Keli reunited. A house, but not in Chicago. A wedding. A baby. There’s so much to process at once.

Next, I reach for my son, wishing I could tuck him into my chest like the little boy he once was but accepting he’s a grown man who towers over me.

“You’re going to be a father,” I whisper to him, both a congratulatory statement and a repetition of what I’ve just learned, hoping it sinks in faster. My son is having a baby. I want to be happy for him. I am happy for him.

Still, tears leak with a mixture of elation and fear. While still in his embrace, I try for a joke despite my soggy voice. “I’m too young to be a grandmother.”

“You’ll never be old, Mom,” Michael lightly laughs.

Dallas is quick to follow my lead, bringing his daughter into a tight hug and whispering something into her ear.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she says.

Michael opens his arms, releasing me too soon when I’m not ready to let go. I’ve been letting go for a long time. He grew up; he went to college. He works a stable job, making good money. Each step he’s taken, I’ve watched in awe and wonder at the amazing man he’s become. I raised him to spread his wings. And just for a second longer, I’d like to hold tight to him.

But he’s getting married. He’s moving away. He’s going to raise my grandchild away from me.

It’s all too much.

Shock makes the tears flow faster.

“I think— I just need a minute.” Holding up a finger, I struggle for a deep breath.