Little Miss Nosy

Chapter Twenty-Four: What Has Been Said

- Edited -

I may have gone a bit overboard, but I'm finally making a point.

I sit the final item on the dining room table: a plate of shredded lettuce next to an even bigger one of chopped tomatoes. It's too much for Mom and I; perhaps just enough for a family of three or four. Mom's favorite food is tacos and my most vivid memories are the four of us creating them around the dinner table every other week.

Although Jacob was pulling away at this time, even he took a break from being a menace to sit with us. I smile as I recall my tacos being stuffed with tomatoes after stealing Jacob's portion since he hated them, and dad cooking the meat in the kitchen.

The table is so unused now that I had to clear it of bills, paperwork, and other miscellaneous items Mom and I absentmindedly toss on it to make room for dinner. It's so empty now that I wonder if I would've cherished those moments more at the time, but I was too young to understand that those moments would soon become nothing but memories.

The door knob jiggles then, yanking me out of my thoughts before I get too invested and ruin what I've set up. I sit up straight and smile a little too sarcastically as Mom enters. She freezes as our eyes connect, assessing the table full of food before looking at me questioningly.

"Welcome home!" She's early for a Saturday night. 8:30 p.m. That's new.

"What's all this?" She closes the door slowly, making her way down the hall before entering the dining room.

I look down and refrain from sighing—from both awe and pain—as my eyes land on her stomach. I'm going to be a big sister to an undoubtedly beautiful human being...and she didn't feel the need to let me know.

"I was feeling productive and wanted to cook for us. Tacos, your favorite! Come sit."

It's amazing how drastic your perspective can change when you're made aware of something. Mom has always loved her wine, but it's been a while since I've seen her with a glass. Like when she passed up the champagne at the company dinner. And she's always been one for tight clothes. Now, the oversized hoodies and sweaters make a lot more sense.

"Well thank you, honey. But it is a little much for just the two of us." She washes her hands at the kitchen sink, turning her head slightly to throw me a warm smile over her shoulder. Her warmth is almost enough to make me abort the mission altogether but I need to stay strong.

She makes a move to grab a soft shell, still smiling. I gulp, my stomach dropping as I blurt, "I believe it's just enough to feed three."

Her hand freezes on the spoon sticking out of the taco meat. Here we go. "Three? Which of your friends will be joining us?" Oh, she's good. Though the facade falters a bit as her hand brushes along her stomach.

"Mom, I know. You don't have to keep it to yourself anymore."

"What are you talking about-"

"Seriously?! I'm giving you an out and you're still trying to hide the pregnancy. Am I that terrible of a daughter that you feel the need to keep my sibling from me?" I can't stop the hurt trickling into my voice, but I don't know another reason to keep what is supposed to be a celebration so hidden.

"You're not a terrible daughter. That's not why I kept this from you." She's blushing, voice small as she's gone the farthest she can in the corner she's backed herself into. She smooths a hand down her stomach, and I can finally see the outline of a bump beneath her hoodie. "How did you find out?"

"Amelia told me to tell you to submit your paperwork for maternity leave. It was an accident but for future reference, tell those you let in on your secrets that what you're telling them is a secret."