Page 64 of Slapshot Baby

I gather my paint swatches and my shredded dignity and leave before my body can override my brain one more time.

What have I done?

***

The lake house sits at the end of a gravel road lined with eucalyptus, prettier than any place has a right to be on a Saturday morning when I've barely slept and my stomach won't stop doing somersaults.

Okay, the backflips might be partially pregnancy-related. But mostly nerves. Definitely mostly nerves.

Kai parks and comes around to open my door. His hand finds the small of my back as I step out, like it belongs there.

Biscuit scrambles out after me, nose twitching.

The house is big without being ridiculous. Stone and timber, a wide porch wrapping the front, the lake visible behind it through the trees.

Six cars are already in the driveway. My palms go slick.

"Relax," Kai says in a low tone.

The front door swings open. Laura comes through with her arms already open, light brown hair down and soft around her face.

She’s wearing a linen blouse and the kind of effortless warmth that makes me want to crawl into her arms and confess every lie I'm about to tell.

She pulls me into a hug before I've finished climbing the steps. My chest contracts.

"You came."

“Yes, I did,” I say.

Her hand finds mine and squeezes. She holds me at arm’s length, studying my face.

"I've been wanting to tell you something." She pauses. "I watched my son wake up and not know his own life. I watched him relearn how to walk across a room. But you were brave enough to help him through it all, even when he didn’t remember you."

My throat locks shut.

She thinks I'm brave and selfless. But I'm carrying her grandchild and I'm too scared to say it.

The guilt sits like a stone in my stomach. But it's not the only thing sitting there, because underneath the guilt is something worse.

I liked hearing her say it. I liked being seen as someone who belongs here.

"Thank you for everything you've done for my son. I don't think he'd be where he is without you.”

My eyes burn. I blink fast and look at Biscuit because she's the only safe place I can stare at. I manage a nod and a smile that I hope doesn't look as watery as it feels.

Don't cry. Do not cry. You’ll never recover from it.

"He makes it easy," I manage.

She squeezes my hand once more then turns to wrap Kai in a hug.

Kai's hand returns to my back as we walk inside. He leans down, mouth near my ear, breath warm against the skin below my earlobe.

"Breathe."

"I'm breathing."

"You're turning purple."