Page 95 of Good For Me

River

“You can do this,” I tell myself, shaking out my hands the way I do before attempting a skating trick. “Just walk in there and say the words.”

My pep talk doesn’t do much to soothe my nerves as I stare up at my parent’s house. I know I need to do this. I should have done it a week ago, when we got back from the wedding. But I’d been putting it off day after day.

Telling my mother that I got a girl pregnant is not something I ever thought I’d do.

Even as I think that, I bristle.Got a girl pregnantmight be an accurate description, but it feels all wrong. Jas isn’t just some girl. And I don’t want this pregnancy to feel like a dirty little secret. I don’t want it to feel like something to be ashamed of. Rose was right that first day on the beach—there’s going to be a baby, and that is far more than okay.

With that resolve planted firmly in my chest, I climb out of my Jeep and go into my parents’ house in search of my mom. It doesn’t take long. I find her sitting at the kitchen table, a mug of tea in her hands, a paperback book open in front of her. She’s not reading it though—her attention is focused on the window to the backyard, a pensive look on her face.

“Hey, Mom.”

She turns in my direction, not looking at all surprised to see me, and smiles softly. “I was wondering when you were going to come to see me.”

I study her face for a moment, then sigh. “Dad told you.”

She shakes her head. “He didn’t have to tell me anything, River. You think I couldn’t tell something was going on? You haven’t been yourself for months. And then you brought her to Tennessee…” she shrugs. “I’ve been pregnant four times, you know. I’m pretty familiar with the signs.”

I collapse into the chair next to her, trying to wrap my mind around the idea that she already knows. She doesn’t say anything else, just sits there watching me, waiting.

“Jas worried people might figure it out because she wasn’t drinking at the wedding.”

Mom wraps her hands around the mug, like she’s trying to warm her fingers. “It wasn’t that. It was you, actually.”

“Me?”

She nods, green eyes steady on mine. “The way you were with her…it seemed very protective. No matter where she was in a room, your eyes were always on her. Reminded me of how your dad was when I was pregnant.”

I let that sink in for a moment. If I think about it, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I do feel protective of Jas, and my mom is an observant person.

I study her placid face. “Are you upset? I thought you’d be more upset.”

“I’m much more interested in howyoufeel.”

I rub my hands over my face, chuckling a little. “God, that’s such ayouthing to say.”

“Your dad told me how you handled the conversation with him,” she says, smiling proudly. “He was very impressed. Said you put him right in his place when he was acting like a dick.”

“I was channeling you,” I mutter, and she laughs. The sound of her laughter filling this kitchen is so familiar to me my chest aches. “God, Mom, I don’t know. I was so freaked out at first. I really didn’t think I could handle it. But now…”

“But now?” she presses when I trail off.

I meet her eyes. “I’m actually happy about it. Is that completely insane to say?”

“Ofcoursenot.” She leans forward and places a hand on my cheek. “River, having kids is the best thing I ever did. Nothing has ever made me happier. You’re allowed to feel the same way, even if this wasn’t planned or if some of the circumstances aren’t ideal.”

“I’m still scared shitless,” I admit.

“I’d be kind of worried about you if you weren’t.”

I laugh and the tightness in my chest eases. Some of the calm seems to have left my mom’s face and I wonder how much of that was a facade for my benefit. Now her expression is eager, her eyes a little wide, and I can tell she’s dying to start asking me questions.

“Please,” I say drily, spreading my hands. “Feel free.”

“How far along is she? Have you been to the doctor? Have you made any plans yet? Does that girl know how you feel about her?”

“Jesus, Mom,” I mutter, staring at her. “I figured my conversation with Violet was going to be like this—and she’s a gossipy teenager.”