But we’ve never discussed things like having a family together, except in the most vague terms. I don’t know how he’ll take the news, and I don’t want to give him more to worry about while he’s on a roll.
His messages have proven few and far between as hewarned, and when I watch the news, it scares me. Two-hundred and twenty thousand acres burned and still counting, with strong winds, little air support, and less than ten percent containment.
I can’t add family news to his plate right now.
My reticence is exacerbated by my inability to process the news. I was on birth control pills. Pills that I’ve taken daily without a missed dose in years. I don’t understand how this could happen.
Raising up a silent prayer, I ask God to help me through this. I know I’ve got some serious growing up to do over the next nine months.
Plenty of trouble’s on the horizon. From a coming confrontation with the House of the Seven Prophets to worry about how Travis will take the news.
I never imagined I’d stare down single motherhood out of wedlock. But it’s a distinct possibility, even though I think I know Travis better than that.
Then again, marriage isn’t a subject we’ve spent much time on, either. On top of it all, I’m afraid I’ll be a terrible mother. My own childhood was so toxic, I don’t know the first thing about how to create a loving household for a little one. And with Travis’s foster-child past, he has his own set of baggage when it comes to family matters.
As the minutes tick by, the loneliness of my current situation kicks in.What if I have to do this all alone? What if Travis refuses to be in the picture? Who will I turn to?I shouldn’t think this way.
Travis has given me no reason to doubt him. Still, an unexpected and potentially unwanted pregnancy is a lot to take in. Even for couples who have been together for years.
I don’t know how I’ll find the words to tell my sister. I’m terrified of seeing a searing look of judgment in her eyes, like my momused to get.
I know Birdie’s up. I’ve heard her shuffling around the kitchen for at least a couple of hours now, and I need to talk to somebody. Especially since I can’t call Travis about this.
Birdie hasn’t given me any reason not to trust her since returning home. But she’s a product of the same upbringing, and I know that comes with a natural inclination to start and end with judgment.
Moreover, she’s been so busy between her home healthcare patients and trying to save the ranch and the feed store from bank foreclosure, that we haven’t had the time to catch up and re-learn each other the way I hoped.
Of course, me spending as much time with Travis over the past month as I have hasn’t helped matters any. But I haven’t even had time to explain to her all that’s going on with him.
I must admit, I’ve held back because I don’t know how thrilled she’d be to know I’m hooking up with Zane’s younger brother.
WHEN I WALK into the room, Birdie asks, “What’s got you up so early, little sis?”
I bite my lower lip, ready to burst into tears. Instead, I swallow hard, trying to sound casual. “I could ask the same thing of you. Sounds like you’ve been up for hours.”
Exhaustion shows in my older sister’s face, framed by beautiful black locks. She was honorably discharged from the Navy a few months back and moved home to help me with Mom. I have to admit, she’s a different woman than the girl I remember from our childhood.
Twelve years in the service of our country as a nurse have made her more compassionate and understanding than anyone in this family or our church. But I guess the last onedoesn’t count because she broke from the church a long time ago.
With a baby on the way, I will, too. In the kind of spectacular fashion the old ladies will gossip about, and the church elders will preach about for generations. Of all the Jenkins who have ever lived, I’m the one to leave a giant black spot on the family reputation.
My hair’s in a tight ponytail, and I don’t have any makeup on. Considering how close tears sit to the surface, I can’t risk putting on mascara. My heart feels heavy as I sit down at the kitchen table across from my sister, my mind filled with all of the ugly things people will say about me and the baby.
“Honey, tell me what’s wrong.” I feel Birdie’s eyes on me, scrutinizing me from across the table.
A part of me frantically tries to come up with an excuse. Concealment is my knee-jerk reaction. Birdie’s a nurse, though, and sooner or later she’ll figure it out.
Besides, I made a promise to myself after Travis and I got together that I would quit leading a double life and embrace who I am. Honesty, even when it comes to difficult topics, is a vital part of keeping that promise.
Drumming my fingers on the tabletop, I say in a barely audible whisper, “I’m pregnant.”
Birdie’s reaction doesn’t disappoint. She nearly chokes on the coffee she’s sipping and spends the next couple of minutes trying to clear her throat.
I fight the urge to run to my room and lock the door, realizing the time for teenage antics is long gone. But something about being around family leaves me feeling more like a teen than a twenty-something.
Instead, I bury my head in my hands, sobbing uncontrollably. I can’t look at Birdie’s recriminating face. And I don’t want to hear her scold me. To my surprise, she rounds the table, sitting next to me and drawing me into a big hug.
Rubbing my back, she comforts me, “It’s okay.” The words should help. But the unexpected kindness makes me feel even more disappointed in myself.
