Page 39 of Can't Win 'Em All
Mom absently patted my arm. “Oh, don’t think that I’m worried about what kind of parent you’re going to be. You’ll be a terrific mother … eventually. Until you two get your heads on straight, though, this situation is going to be a mess.”
What was that supposed to mean? “How do you figure?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Mom made a clucking sound with her tongue. “Everything will work out.” She headed for the kitchen. “What did you order for dinner?”
“Italian,” I replied.
“Good choice.” Mom smiled, but there was something odd about the expression that I couldn’t pinpoint. She was up to something. What, though?
Rather than dwell on it too long, I turned my attention to my father. “Don’t you have something snarky to say?”
His eyes were red-rimmed, and he pressed a hand to the spot above his heart, throwing me. “I’m going to be a grandpa?”
He couldn’t be serious. “You’re not going to have anything to do with this kid.”
My icy response didn’t dull what looked to be legitimate excitement. “I want to be a Pop-Pop, Ruby. Grandpa makes me sound old. Is it a boy or a girl? It doesn’t matter. I’m going to spoil the crap out of him or her regardless.”
I glanced at my sisters, unsure what was happening. They looked as dumbfounded as I felt. Was this real? If not, it was quite the act.
“How come you’re more interested in Ruby’s kid than the one we’re having?” Claire asked, looking surly.
Dad merely shrugged. “I’ve already had four kids. This is my first grandkid. That’s way better.”
Was it? I had no idea what to make of it.
“So, what’s the plan?” Zach asked. He’d been pouting in the corner of the suite since the news broke. “Like … are you guys going to move in together?”
“No.” I refused to let others make demands on how we should act. “We’re going to figure out a way to successfully co-parent without being a couple.”
“And what’s that going to look like?”
That was a very good question. “I have no idea. Thankfully, we have six months to figure it out.”
That was more than enough time. Or, well, I hoped that was true. If not, we were in for a bumpy ride.
11
ELEVEN
“Walk us out, son,” Dad prodded once the night wore down. He was familiar with the casino, so he didn’t need an escort. No, he wanted to have a conversation.
I cast a quick look toward Ruby to see if she was okay with me leaving and found her glaring at her father, who was still acting weepy, from across the kitchen island. “Just one second.” I flashed a smile toward my parents—it was brimming with resignation more than merriment—and then crossed to her. “Um … my parents want me to walk them out.”
Ruby, who was making a series of faces trying to get a different reaction out of her father, turned her full attention to me. “That doesn’t sound good,” she mused.
“I’m sure it will be fine.” Unlike her parents, my parents weren’t the type to melt down. No, their way was quiet disappointment. That was somehow worse. “They just want to tell me how I could’ve been a better man and stepped up to the plate when you first told me.”
Ruby made a protesting sound. “Don’t beat yourself up. I told you I wanted you to think. I wouldn’t have accepted any decision you told me that day regardless.”
I considered it. “Really?” I sounded a little too hopeful for my comfort level, but I needed to hear her answer.
“Really,” she confirmed. “Don’t let your parents get you down. You did exactly what I wanted, and you have nothing to be sorry about.”
She was so sincere, all I could manage was a head bob. “Thank you, Ruby.”
“You’re welcome.” Her smile was as bright as the sun. “Don’t you feel better about telling everybody? I mean … even my father knows.” Her eyes slitted as she looked back at him. “It’s turned him into some sort of freak.”
I wanted to laugh—Ruby’s distrust of her father was hilarious after all—but I held it together. “I’ll be back to make sure he doesn’t try to hang around past his welcome window.”
