Before Together After Forever

Chapter 6 - Rexford Trent, Jr.

Wednesday and Sunday nights were sacred family dinner nights in our home, even if my parents were away—there'd always be a call to make up for it.

Entering the kitchen, I found my mom engrossed in conversation with our chef. She had an affinity for the kitchen, a sight I always found heartwarming.

"Good evening, Mom, Nellie," I greeted as I settled at the breakfast bar, awaiting Dad's appearance from his study.

Mom blew a kiss my way. "How was school today?"

I poured some water, sighing. "High school is high school. University... my project got approved. I was thinking of showing Dad my designs for Trent Industries. He's renovating a downtown office, and I thought my designs might fit."

"Thinking big already, son," Dad chimed in, joining us. After greeting Mom with a hug and a kiss, he continued, "I don't mind reviewing your designs, but the downtown head will decide. If approved, you'll work closely with our project manager and structural engineer."

"Sure! I know it'll take time, and I don't expect it handed to me. But I might want to speed up university and finish in half the time," I explained.

Nellie served our favorite homemade pizzas, bidding good night before leaving. She and Mom loved cooking together.

With wine poured, we indulged in our slices, relishing these casual family dinners.

"Why rush university, son? We told you to savor being a teenager. You've done so much," Dad remarked between bites.

Despite the enjoyable dinner, I couldn't bring myself to reveal these things to my parents. I pushed my plate away, exhaling deeply.

"What's the matter, honey?" Mom's concern was palpable.

"Do you remember Claire?" I asked.

Mom's face contorted in disgust. "I thought she was out of your life. You haven't mentioned her in ages."

I hung my head. "She's pregnant," my voice barely audible.

The room seemed to freeze. "Pardon-moi?" My mom's tone held disbelief.

"Rexford Oliver Trent, Jr., what did you just say?!" Dad's voice thundered.

I couldn't find the words. I placed the ultrasound on the breakfast bar. My mom examined it while Dad seethed.

Examining the picture, Mom flipped it over, slamming it down. "She doesn't even know who the father is, Ollie!"

Their emotions were inscrutable. "I said I'd take responsibility. She's coming here tomorrow."

Continuing his meal, Dad glanced at me. "A doctor will be here. That girl will undergo a DNA test. Exploiting us is one thing, but using an innocent child is unacceptable."

Mom concurred, "DNA tests are advanced now. If this child is a Trent, Claire stays until birth. I didn't trust her then, and I don't trust her now."

After dinner, they tidied up the kitchen. "Son, it's not a disappointment; it's a shock. But taking responsibility is right," Dad said, washing dishes.

"That's what truly matters," Mom added. "How far along is she?"

"Around two months, give or take," I replied, trying to regain my appetite.

"Looks like you'll have quite a birthday gift," Mom remarked with a dry laugh. September 20th was my 15th birthday. Instead of a party, I might be planning for a birth.

As they finished, I sat, my mind racing. "Wash that plate!" Mom's voice snapped me back. I realized I had my parents' support, regardless of what lay ahead.