The Way We Feel

Chapter 11

Harry glanced over at me, and I gripped his hand when it covered my knee beneath the table.

I knew what he was thinking, but I couldn't help the nervous flutters in my stomach remembering what we'd discussed—what we'd decided.

Mom was chattering on about her favorite bakery as she set out a lemon cake for dessert. Only from the sound of it, her favorite bakery was quickly becoming her not-favorite bakery because how dare they try to sell her a day-old cake rather than offer to have a fresh one made and ready to be picked up before tonight's meal.

Jenny was pouring out steaming cups of coffee across the table, and set one down directly in front of Will, who was still eyeing the plate of cookies in the middle of the table as he chewed and swallowed his first. The girls were running around in the living room, the TV blaring so that music from The Lion King filtered into the dining room. Emily was in the kitchen, presumably doing the dishes, and Mark was messing around on his phone to my right. Which I knew wouldn't last long. Mom was moments away from noticing.

I should've been helping. Normally, I would've gotten to my feet as soon as dinner had ended, but today I hadn't, and shockingly, no one seemed to notice. Not even Mom. It was as if they could tell I had to stay near Harry, that I felt strong enough to do this only when he was by my side. As if they sensed that one wrong move might make me change my mind.

I was pregnant. The thought still stunned me. Thrilled me. And as I held onto that secret at the forefront of my mind, sitting at my childhood dining room table with my family surrounding me, it felt bigger than it ever had.

I couldn't help but think of the first pregnancy. Because I didn't have a clue how to tell anyone then, either. Things had been so different, though. I wasn't happy about that baby—I was only terrified. There was still a healthy dose of terror now, for many reasons, but happiness outweighed the fear every time. Mostly because Harry was right beside me for this one.

But telling my family... I couldn't help but remember what that had been like last time, too. The way it had felt to sit before them, just like this, holding onto the biggest secret of my life, the biggest thing that had ever happened to me, and not know what to say. Needing to get it off my chest, but afraid of the way they might react. Afraid of the way it might change their perception of me.

Just like now, Emily had already known, thank God, and she'd been right there next to me when I finally blurted the words, but no amount of comfort would've changed the way it felt to have my brothers stare at me like they didn't know who I was, then try to smile to cover it up. No amount of preparation would've prepared me for the way it would feel to watch my mother's face fall, only for her to say nothing at all one way or the other.

That was different, I kept reminding myself. I was in a bad place. We all were. Dad's death had still felt so fresh. Everything still felt so unsettled. No one had come back from it the same way.

I hadn't even fully made my way back yet.

This was different.

Harry squeezed my hand again under the table, and focus returned to me just in time to see that my mother had settled in her seat again, that Emily was back in the room, an apron still tied around her waist, and the girls were standing between their parents, grabbing at the cookies in the middle of the table.

Everyone was still talking, but I couldn't hear a word. Could only look at Harry, whose brows lifted a bit and whose eyes bore into mine as if to say, "Now would be a perfect time."

We'd gone to the doctor to confirm the pregnancy a couple days ago, but somehow, it still didn't feel real that any of this was actually happening.