And he’d just had an emotional dinner with my parents and he wasn’t telling me what was on his mind.
“Is something on your mind?” I asked after he swallowed a large swig.
He looked at me and declared weirdly, “Things here, in your world, are more advanced.”
“Well… yeah,” I replied.
“Is this true with medicine?”
My head tipped to the side. “Medicine?”
“Do you not call it medicine?” he asked, didn’t wait for me to answer and he went on to explain using the word, “Healing.”
“Yes, we call it medicine and yes, it’s more advanced.”
He scowled at me a second then drained his glass. Then he poured another healthy measure.
“Tor,” I started hesitantly, not sure what to do with him in this mood, “has something upset you?”
He answered immediately, “While you were with your mother in the kitchen, your father was verbose.”
Uh-oh.
Dad could have told him anything. About my punk phase, or worse, my militant vegetarian phase, or worse, the excruciatingly uncomfortable time he found Tad Millstrom getting to second base with me in our basement.
“And?” I whispered.
“And, he told me about Rosa, your Rosa, the sister you did not have.”
“Seriously?” I asked softly, surprised by this. Dad could get chatty while smashed but that was an overshare, even for Dad. I knew this because I’d been around Dad while he was hammered a bunch of times and he’d (obviously) never mentioned Rosa.
“Seriously,” Tor replied then sucked back another large swallow.
“Tor, I don’t –”
His eyes sliced to mine and the look in them made me snap my mouth shut.
Then he announced, “You’re carrying my child.”
My body went statue-still except my eyes. They blinked.
God, I forgot about the pregnancy test. How could I forget something like that?
“I –” I started, that one syllable trembling.
“You’ve been in my bed every night for six weeks and I’ve been in you every night for six weeks and we’ve been together day in, day out for even longer. You have not once had your cycle.”
Oh God.
“Tor –”
“Your mother nearly died having your sister who did die.”
My stomach dropped. “She did?” he glared at me. “My mother almost died, I mean.”
“Indeed,” he clipped and threw back more bourbon.
Although this news upset me, greatly, I felt the need to stay focused on whatever was bothering Tor.