Claire: I’ll be there in ten minutes. How do you want to do this?
I took a deep breath and went down to the kitchen, where I’d decided to do the FaceTime call on my laptop, so I could see their faces more clearly. Unconsciously, my hand drifted to the nonexistent bump of my belly.
My little raspberry baby was still hiding, invisible to the naked eye, except for maybe the tiniest tightness on the waistband of my pants. A thought zipped into my head, completely unwanted, where I wondered if our mom—Brooke—had shown much, or if she’d been one of those pregnant women who suddenly looked like they’d shoved a basketball under their shirt.
And it was just another question I couldn’t answer. I’d maybe seen one picture of her pregnant with me and Claire. Revisiting those parts of our past wasn’t exactly high on the priority list. All I remembered of the picture was a giant bump covered by the black lace of some fancy dress she’d worn for a black-tie event she’d attended with our father.
The heel of my hand—still clutching the small sheep—pressed on the sudden spike in pressure on my chest, and I forced that image out of my head. Claire. I needed to answer Claire. How did I want to do this?
Me: Quickly and painlessly.
Claire: I know. But I meant more like, do you want me to mentally prep them?
I sat at the table and flipped open my MacBook. My hand shook a little when I pulled up the FaceTime.
Me: Just let them know that I’m okay, but I need to talk to them about something and I wanted you there for support.
Claire: You’ve got it.
Claire: It’ll be okay. I promise.
Claire: Heading in. I LOVE YOU, LEE.
“I think I’m gonna puke,” I whispered. With a quick glance at the clock, I wondered if I could shove another scone down before this circus kicked off. Pinching my eyes shut, I resisted because no matter how delicious it was, the scone would not solve anything. And that was the truth with Jude, as well. Having him with me to do this wouldn’t make the words any easier to get out. Not to mention that, despite what he might believe, I wasn’t worried about their disappointment. I was worried about their worry.
They’d want me home immediately.
They’d want to wrap me in their arms and help me carry the load, and the worst thing I could ask of my big, chaotic, opinionated family was to stay away.
When the bridge of my nose started tingling, it was the first warning sign that my entire playbook for this call was going to go to shit. I clenched my jaw together and took a deep breath.
“Stupid hormones,” I said in a voice that wavered dangerously. And they were stupid. In my mind, I imagined my emotions like an angry ocean—white-capped waves that had stayed off in the distance until this very moment. My hand went to my belly again, and I felt calmer. It would be fine. We would be fine.
Claire: They’re worried, but okay. I’m calling now.
Before I could second-guess it, I stood, darted to the cupboard, and snatched the bag of scones, shoving a piece of one in my mouth before I took my seat again. I set the sheep just beyond the laptop, where I could see the smiling black mouth. The ringing began as I swallowed my scone, and I clicked the touchpad to answer the call. At the sight of Logan and Paige, huddled close at the table where we’d eaten a million meals, I almost lost my grip.
“HI! We miss you. Are you okay?” Paige asked. Logan wrapped an arm around her shoulder and studied the screen with so much intensity that I almost laughed.
“Hi.” I exhaled. “It’s good to see your faces.”
They exchanged a quick look. “You doing okay, kid?” Logan asked.
“I’m eating a scone in England. How can I not be okay?” I lifted the baked good in question, and Paige gave me a tiny smile, but they were not fooled by my answer.
Claire popped her head in behind Logan’s shoulder. “I’m sitting over here, but I can hear you just fine.”
“Why is your sister here for this?” Logan asked.
Right. Okay then.
“Logan,” Claire said, “don’t interrogate her. I’m here because she asked me to be.”
His face gentled, which took a lot because my big brother had never been described as gentle. Ever. He was a bruiser, an iron-willed coach. The only piece of his life that received softness was us.
“You look good,” Paige interjected. “I miss looking at your face.”
“You could always look at Claire and pretend it’s me.” At my joke, her bottom lip wobbled, and her big blue eyes welled. I sighed. “Oh, Paige, don’t cry, please.”
She waved her hands in front of her face. “Sorry. I didn’t expect it to be so hard to have one of you move away.”
“I didn’t move away. And Molly travels for work all the time.”
“I’m a big ole hypocrite, I know.” Emotions under control, Paige tucked errant strands of her red hair behind her ears and gave Logan another loaded look. “I think we’re just worried. You’ve called, but anytime we want to see you, you find a reason you can’t. So when you have your sister show up, and you’re in an unfamiliar place”—she gestured to the background—“I think you can understand why we’re a little caught off guard.”
I sat back in my chair and rubbed my face. “I know.”
“Where are you?” Logan asked.
From their vantage point, all they could see was the French doors that led from Jude’s kitchen to his beautiful garden, a far cry from my tiny student’s flat, which they’d seen pictures of.
“I’m at a … friend’s place.”
Paige visibly fortified herself. “Lia, your brother and I love you, and no matter what it is, you need to tell us. We will still love you.”
“I know you will.” My hand went back to the lil raspberry again. Could it sense my nerves? I let out a slow breath to calm my racing heart.
Paige took the reins again. “And if you’re scared to tell us, like … you found someone we weren’t expecting and maybe you think we’ll be disappointed, we won’t be. I’d love another daughter, and if that’s who you love, then I will be the best girl mom in the whole world.”
My head tilted. “What?”
I heard Claire clear her throat, but I couldn’t tell if she was laughing or redirecting.
Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Paige, just let her talk.”
She looked at him. “I just want her to know we love her.”
“She knows. How about you let her tell us.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
Claire popped her head in the camera again. “Paige thinks you’re coming out. That you’re trying to tell them you have a girlfriend.”
“Oh.” My heart warmed impossibly at how she’d prepped for any and all news. “I’m happy to hear that you’d love me regardless, but I’m not trying to tell you I’m gay.”
She swallowed, eyes searching my face. “Okay. Whatever it is … we’re your family.”
Lips pursed, I blew out a breath, and ripped off the Band-Aid. “I’m trying to tell you I’m pregnant.”
Silence.
For four solid seconds, there was nothing but wide eyes and silence.
“Holy shit,” Paige whispered.
“You’re what?” Logan asked. “How?”
I raised my eyebrows. Claire choked on a laugh.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.