I’m so fucking stupid.
My fork clinks on the ceramic plate as I lower my head, feeling like shit.
“How long is their trip?” Cheryl asks Ma. It’s just Cheryl, Joseph, Ma and Pops while Ali and Michael are on their honeymoon. Without Ali here, it’s quieter than usual. Or maybe I just think it is.
“A full week,” Ma answers, taking a sip of her Diet Pepsi and shifting in her seat.
“Oh wow,” Cheryl says, absently kissing the top of Evie’s head, although the little girl still stares back at me. “That’s a long honeymoon.”
“We can go on another,” Joseph pipes up then shovels another bite in his mouth.
Cheryl scoffs, leaning back in her seat and yawning before she says, “Like when the kids are in college?”
Joseph starts to answer, but Ma cuts in, “Kids?” Her eyes flicker to Cheryl’s stomach.
“Oh don’t get ahead of yourself, Ma.” Cheryl stretches one arm over her head, another yawn taking over as she does.
“Just checking,” Ma says with a smile. Pops chuckles at the end of the table. He’s been quiet all night but keeps looking at me. He thinks I don’t notice, but I do. They’re all looking at me, and I’m just waiting for the questions to start.
As if reading my mind, Ma asks, “When are you going to bring Grace to dinner, Charlie?” She picks up a bun from the basket all the while looking at me, waiting on my answer.
I lean back in my seat, taking in a heavy breath.
If I call her, I think she’d answer. If I ask her to come by, I think she would.
She’s busy with the promotion, and I’ve got work, too. I want to give in and just get lost in her touch, but it’s turning into something else for me. I never should’ve asked her to come around after the wedding.
I’m ashamed to say how much it hurts to end it with her. I don’t want to, but I can’t forget what Diane told me and it just makes sense. I’m not the man she wants her happily ever after with. We both knew that from the beginning.
I don’t want to believe Diane, but she knew it was fake. She said that word, fake. That had to have come from Grace. There’s no other way Diane could have known it was some stupid bet and we were pretending.
“She’s real busy,” I say before taking a drink of my water. “She got a promotion.”
“Oh that’s wonderful,” Ma answers, but her tone is flat and I keep my head down to avoid looking at her.
“Just where’d you two run off to during the reception?” Joseph asks me, and when I look up I see his cocky smile as he picks off a piece of his chicken and pops it into his mouth.
“Nowhere,” I answer him as Cheryl shoves her elbows into his side. She gives him a look, and little Evie finally looks away from me and up to her mom. She’s only a few months old, but she’s holding her head up just fine and staring at the world around her with wonder.
I’m not fucking settling. And not on a woman who doesn’t want me. For the first time since it happened, I regret thinking about knocking Grace up. My heart clenches in my chest, and I take another gulp of my water.
I don’t know what got into me with her, but I know it needs to end.
I made a mistake, and not for the first time. But I’m damn sure not going to let history repeat itself.
“Son, help me with something.” Ma’s request is odd, especially coming in the middle of dinner. Just like her calling me ‘son’ is throwing me off.
“Of course,” I answer her, setting my napkin to the side and following her to the kitchen. She keeps walking, out to the back door and to the patio.
“What do you need help with out here?”
My Ma’s a bit shorter than me and when she takes a seat on the floral tufted cushion, she’s even shorter. Taking my cue, I have a seat on the chair opposite her. “I need you to tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” I do my best to appease her and whatever hints she has that I’m off.
“That’s not true. Mickey told me Grace hasn’t been in. Maggie said she thinks you two got in a fight.
What in the ever loving hell. My eyes must speak my thought for me. “Don’t look at me like that,” my mother scolds me. “They’re worried for you,” she stresses and my mom’s voice shakes.
“She doesn’t want to be with me,” I explain, getting right to the point and looking at my mother and saying those words makes the truth hurt even more.
“Bull,” my mother bites out, her eyes getting glassy. “I saw the way she looks at you and the way you look at her,” my mom’s hands clasp in her lap, almost like she’s praying. “You tell me what happened and I’ll tell you how to fix it.”
“I don’t need you getting us back together. I’ll settle down and find a nice girl one day.” My throat gets tight and I can’t finish my thoughts. Mostly about how my mother doesn’t have to worry like she is.
“Didn’t I love you enough to know what it feels like?” she asks me, a tear escaping and I lean forward, reaching for my mother’s hand. She shakes it away from me and wipes her eyes. “You love her and she loves you and this isn’t okay. I know Suzanne hurt you but you deserve love and I don’t know why you don’t fight for it.”
“She doesn’t want me,” I emphasize as kindly as I can to my emotional mother.
“Son, if you think I didn’t pick up on the fact that you were only friends before, you must think I’m fool. That first day I met her, I knew you two lied.”
“Ma, I-”
“Hush, boy,” she cuts me off. “I let it go because I could tell she wanted you. She had her eye set on you like I did your father. If you were blind to that, I can forgive it. But I can’t forgive you thinking she doesn’t love you. Not when everyone around you knows she does.”
She doesn’t get it and it kills me. I hate feeling like this. I hate seeing my mother like this even more.
“Do you love her?”
I hesitate only a second before answering, “yes.”
“Did you tell her?”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I answer my mother. “No.”
“Just promise me this. You’ll tell her how you feel. How you really feel.” She nods slowly as if agreeing to whatever she’s thinking.
What it is, I don’t know.
“Promise me, Charlie.”
“I promise, I’ll tell her.” When I answer my mom, I don’t think much of it. But the more I think about it, the more I know I don’t have anything to lose. She’s already gone, it can only bring her back to me.
Grace
You’re pregnant, the doctor’s voice echoes in my head. Congratulations, Grace.
I grip the steering wheel as I drive home, willing myself not to cry. It’s a mix of happiness, wonder and profound sadness. Charlie gave me a baby.
Four days past the supposed day I was supposed to get my period, AKA yesterday, I peed on a stick and then cried. I told Ann, who’s immediate response was: you have to tell him. I almost told my mother, but it’s so soon. So to the doctor’s I went, who, surprisingly also only had me pee on a stick.