Page 29 of Expecting an Argument
“Good.” The iron patio chair screeched across the concrete as Mom stood up. “Start the truck—I want to see her.”
My stomach was in knots the instant I turned onto the manor’s driveway. I had been horribly nervous the first time I introduced my mother to a girlfriend, but this was so much worse.
I had texted Olivia before we left Aunt Liz’s to warn her that we were coming, but I never got a response. I had no idea what state she would be in when we entered the house. Was she even dressed?
God, I hoped she had at least eaten something.
Titus greeted us in the foyer, but only Titus.
I gave my good boy a scratch behind the ears before calling out, “Adams, we’re here.”
No response.
I cursed under my breath and Mom trailed behind me as I searched for Olivia. She wasn’t in the kitchen, or the back patio, or the media room.
“She probably found the safe,” Mom said as I walked out of the empty gym. “She raked up all the family jewels while you were gone and drove off into the sunset.”
I crossed into the foyer and mashed the call button on the elevator. “Don’t be ridiculous, Mom. She’s probably in her room.”
“Herroom,” Mom repeated with a smirk. “Well, that was fast.”
Her eyes glanced to the wall. “The old family portrait is finally gone, at least.”
I entered the elevator. “I didn’t want to risk Olivia asking questions.”
“Good boy,” Mom said as she joined me in the elevator.
We ascended to the second floor and I almost turned toward the bedrooms, but stopped when I noticed Titus sitting in the middle of the opposite hallway. He looked at me, his tongue flopped out as he panted. Poor boy was exhausted from taking the stairs.
Before I could wonder why he was randomly in the guest wing, I caught a glimpse of a traffic-cone orange sleeve peeking out from the hallway alcove. I quietly walked over to Titus and found him sitting with Olivia.
Olivia was stretched out on the cushion of the alcove bench with an e-reader in her lap, but her eyes were fixed on the hazy sky outside the window. I nearly made a remark about her wearing her bright orange Plains State hoodie to meet my Lindsay University superfan of a mother, but Olivia’s blankstare made me pause.
I could see my own reflection in the window pane, and yet she didn’t turn to greet me. Titus’s panting was anything but quiet, but she didn’t acknowledge him either.
She was just like she was at the doctor’s office…there but not.
“Adams, my mother is here,” I said.
Olivia turned so quickly that her e-reader slid off her lap. She didn’t even try to catch it as it clattered to the floor and instead jumped to her feet to shake my mother’s hand.
“H-hello,” Olivia said with a sheepish smile and a growing flush. “Pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Fontaine.”
Mom’s face was unreadable as she lightly shook Olivia’s hand. “We’re all adults now, just call me Cheryl.”
Olivia looked down at the striped socks on her feet as her cheeks grew red. “I’m not sure if you know, but I’m—”
“Up in the duff, as our friends across the pond like to say?” Mom interrupted. “I’m well aware.”
Olivia paled and curved in her shoulders, as if Mom were about to send her to a proverbial time-out corner.
Instead, Mom reached into her purse. “Here, I have something for you.” She pulled out a black and white striped notebook—as ifthatwould help Olivia’s prisoner complex—and held it out. “It’s a pregnancy journal.”
Olivia gingerly took the journal. “What am I supposed to write in it?”
Mom shrugged. “Everything—the good, the bad, and the ugly. You have a long road ahead and a journal will help you process.”
I smiled. Though I was certain Mom wanted to wring my neck for getting someone pregnant, she still had grace for the situation. The journal was a very thoughtful gift.
