my dad, but I know they’re for me too.
“You don’t get all the blame,” I remind him, knowing full well I played a part in the demise of our marriage.
“But I take it. All of it. I should have fought harder for the things I loved and valued most in this world.” His eyes are intense and speak volumes for the sincerity in his voice. I know he takes full responsibility, even though that’s not where it lies. It’s placed at both our feet, though no matter how much I try to reason, it’s a bit difficult to get that through his thick skull.
Risking a glance across the table, I see both our moms wearing a tearful smile, while our dads still watch us closely, silently observing. When my dad finally speaks, he says, “I believe you, son. Just know that I won’t let you hurt her a second time.”
“Me either,” Adam states, “but I have to admit, I don’t see it happening a second time. I saw firsthand how bad that separation and divorce tore him up. Poor Chase took the brunt of his bad moods for several months.”
Harrison huffs. “Don’t poor Chase anything. He deserves every ounce of shit thrown his way,” he teases with a grin.
Adam lets out a hearty laugh. “Well, you may be right there, but still. You’ve been a bear with a thorn in your paw for months. If it takes returning that pretty lady beside you to your side, then I’m all for it.” Adam lifts his glass and salutes.
“Thanks, Dad,” Harrison replies before turning to my dad. “Dwayne, you have my word that I won’t hurt your daughter ever again. My purpose in life is to make her smile, not cry.”
And because I’m a hormonal mess, I start to cry. My mom reaches over the table and squeezes my arm. “Good tears are okay,” she adds with a wink.
“I suppose,” my dad grumbles, offering me a wink over his glass.
Our entrees are delivered a few moments later, and even though we haven’t shared our other news yet, I’ve crossed the first big hurdle of the evening. I can’t imagine anyone having any issues with the fact we’re bringing a baby into the world. Well, unless you take into account the fact we’re not married, have recently divorced each other, and are just now rekindling our relationship.
You know, besides that.
My linguine smells amazing. The perfect blend of light garlic and cheese mixes with the cooked shrimp. I’m a huge seafood lover, so I made sure to do my research on what I can and cannot have while pregnant. The good news is, as long as my shrimp is cooked, I can still enjoy it in moderation. The best part is their linguine sauce isn’t made from wine—another huge plus, considering the bun in my oven.
Just before I dig my fork into my noodles, Harrison grabs everyone’s attention. “If I could take a quick moment to share one more piece of good news before we eat, I think now is the time.”
Setting my fork down, I turn to face him. “Now?” I whisper, my mouth watering and my stomach growling for food.
He gives me a smile and wink and confirms, “Now.” Harrison takes my hand once more and brings it to his lips. His eyes remain locked on mine as he opens his mouth. “Winnie and I wanted to share that we’re making you grandparents at the end of the year.”
I hear the gasp first (undoubtably from my mother), followed quickly by the squeal of excitement. Chairs scrape on the floor, but I keep my eyes on the man beside me, lost in the sea of emotion we seem to be riding on these last few months. I’m pulled into a pair of arms, wrapped in the familiar perfume that belongs to my mom. Finally, Harrison lets go of my hand and I quickly stand, engulfed in a fierce hug.
“I can’t believe this! Grandma!” my mom bellows, loud enough that I know the entire restaurant has heard.
Before I can even respond, I’m tugged into another pair of arms, this time belonging to my former mother-in-law, Sarah. “I’ve always wanted to be a Mimi,” she whispers, her tears of happiness sliding effortlessly down her cheeks.
When she finally lets go, it only takes a moment for her arms to be replaced with the ones that offered me continual support and congratulations throughout my childhood. My dad pulls me in tight, and there’s no missing the wetness