He set his plate in the sink and lumbered to the den, settled his bulk on the couch, and patted the cushion beside him. "Come sit, Sweet-Pea, and tell your ol' dad what's bothering you."
Mom and Lindsey followed me into the den, Mom sitting next to me, Lindsey in the easy chair across from us. "You brought Linz for support, so it must be serious."
"I…" I sighed, my eyes burning already. "I don't know where to start."
"What, did you get knocked up or something?" Dad asked, obviously joking. When I didn't answer, my eyes going wide and filling with tears, he sank back against the couch, letting out a long, slow breath. “Oh. I see."
Mom just stared at me for a moment. "Rune, really? You're serious?"
"Why would I joke about that?" I snapped.
Mom, uncharacteristically, let my snapping at her go. "We have questions, Rune."
I sighed. "I know. His name is Duncan. I met him in Alaska. He basically single-handedly saved Raquel and Hamish's wedding."
"Raquel's and Hamish's," Mom corrected automatically. "Sorry, sorry, habit." She knew I hated it when she nitpicked my grammar.
"We're…not together," I said. "And I've already told him. I also told him I don't expect anything from him."
Dad shot to his feet, shaking his head and rolling his massive shoulders. "Why would you let the punk off the hook like that, Rune? He knocked you up. He doesn't get to just scoot away, scot-free. Also, I thought we taught you to always, always, use protection unless you were trying to have a baby with a man you loved."
"He's not a punk, Dad." My voice shook, and I hated it, but it wouldn't solidify, no matter how hard I tried. "He's a good guy. We both messed up, not just him. We were drunk. I know it's no excuse, I just…it's what happened."
"Then why let him off the hook that easily?" he pressed, turning to look at me, hands laced on his head.
"He lives in fucking Alaska, Dad. What's he gonna do, fly down every weekend?"
"If he's any kind of man, yeah, if that's what it took."
"Dad, if you say one word about him marrying me, I'm out. I'm not doing that. I know you're all old school and whatever, but that's not happening."
Dad held up his hands. "Wasn't gonna—I know better. I may be old school, but I know that forcing two people who accidentally got pregnant to get married is a recipe for misery and divorce."
"Same thing," Mom muttered. Louder, to me, then. "Rune, I do agree with your father about letting this Duncan guy just skate away from his responsibilities."
"I doubt he's skating anywhere," I said, reluctantly. "He wasn’t exactly happy when I told him I wasn't asking him for anything and didn't want anything from him."
Mom and Dad traded looks, at this.
"Wait, wait, wait," Dad said. "Explain how this conversation went."
“It was super late, or early. Like four, I think. He works at a bar his family owns and closes most nights, so I knew he'd be up. And I…I told him." I sighed heavily, grimacing at the memory. "He had me on speaker and his mom was next to him."
"At four in the morning?” Mom asked, surprised.
I shrugged. "I dunno, I never met his parents. I guess they were talking. You'd have to ask him."
"I'd like to," Dad muttered. "But I've never met the guy."
"Thomas!" Mom scolded. “Quit muttering imprecations."
"I'll show you an imprecation," Dad growled.
"Guys," I grumbled. "Not the time."
Mom gestured at me. "Continue."
"I…there's not much else to say."
