Didn't Expect You (Against All Odds #2) - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,49

“You know what, you’re right. You should come with me.”

He stops typing and lifts his gaze. His blue piercing eyes stare at me. “Why?”

“You might be able to help me dodge a few questions,” I answer. “Let’s say I’m using you as a shield.”

He smirks. “Bring on the Brassards. I can take them.”

My God, if this wasn’t so strange and unreal I’d say that he’s beyond perfect. Every guy I’ve dated ran scared when they met my parents. This guy saw them having sex, and he hasn’t complained after the incident. He’s even willing to come with me even when they might probably get a million times more weird after I give them the news.

I look up to the ceiling and send up a thought, couldn’t you have sent him a few years ago?

When we arrive at my parents’ house, Mom holds my arms carefully and studies my face. “We should take you to the doctor. At this point, you should be taking prenatal vitamins.”

I laugh and roll my eyes. I haven’t even told them about the baby, and she’s already giving me advice. Thank goodness she doesn’t have any baby clothes, or she’ll be giving them to me along with the suggestion of a few names and…I should run now before it’s too late.

Dad asks, “Are you okay?”

“I’ve been better,” I answer.

Nate squeezes my hand and whispers, “It’s okay. I’ll deflect as much as I can.”

With that reassurance, I enter the house.

“Nathaniel, what a surprise,” Mom greets him. “I thought you were in New York.”

“I’m on my way to Seattle, but I decided to stop by to check on Nyx,” he answers.

“You’re a good kid. She’s been avoiding me since Monday. I’m surprised she came to visit us,” Mom complains.

“I’m right here, Mom,” I sneer. I hate when she talks about me in the third person as if I’m not nearby.

“Yes, you are,” Mom concedes glancing at me again and sighing dramatically. “Should I sit down?”

“Let’s save the dramatics, Mom,” I suggest. “When are you going back to work?”

“Next week,” she says. “And I’m glad you’re here because we’re working on a book proposal and I need you to help me.”

“You mean pretend I’m your agent,” I correct her, almost wondering if I should say yes but only if I get a small cut from their profits.

“Yes, you did it for Persy. I’m sure you can do it for us,” she says. “Now tell me what’s happening. You’ve been absent for three days, which means you’ve been plotting something and it’s time for the big reveal.”

Dad laughs and Nate joins.

“I’m glad my life gives you comedic relief,” I say unamused.

“It’s not funny that my kid doesn’t need me as much, but we’ve learned to take it lightly,” she confesses. “I’d like to be a part of the important decisions you make in life. But for some reason, you never take us into consideration.”

“You raised pretty independent children, Mom.”

“I’ll subscribe to that answer even when we both know it’s a bunch of bologna.”

She’s probably wrong, it might be a combination of both. They taught us how to be responsible, to take charge of our own lives, and to trust our instincts—not that our instinct is always right. There’s the part where they can be overwhelming, and their ideas don’t always fit into the real world.

“So, what is it?” she asks.

“I got fired on Tuesday,” I begin the conversation and tell them what happened on Monday.

They’ve known that things haven’t been going well at work since May when Pierce hinted he’d be quitting the firm and leaving the state. The day he left, things just went from bad to worse, and here I am, unemployed.

“What can we do?” she asks.

“Well...since I’m selling my house, I might need to stay with you guys for a while,” I answer, wondering if this is a good time to throw in the baby or if waiting until next year might be for the best.

Dad frowns, but remains quiet, observing me.

“But you love that house,” Mom states.

“It’s lovely, but I can’t afford it, and the schools in that district are… I prefer to look for something in a different district.”

She arches an eyebrow. “I was right.”

“Yes, Mom, you were right. I’m pregnant,” I concede, waiting for her to say something else, but as it’s expected from her, she hugs me.

“My baby is going to be a mom,” she repeats excitedly.

Suddenly, she’s crying and then, I’m crying. This time I’m not sure why or if it’s contagious,