“Then you’re the luckiest girl in the world.” I lean down to kiss her forehead. Then I muse aloud, “Lucky Rewey. Hmm.”
She giggles. “We are not naming the baby Lucky.”
“Well, nothing goes well with Rewey, so we’re pretty much screwed.”
“Abigail does,” she says.
“Abigail Rewey.” I smile big. “Damn, that does sound good.”
“How about Kate?”
“Kate?” I shake my head. “Our baby is going to have rock stars for parents. We need to be more creative than that. I was thinking more along the lines of Slash.”
“We’re not naming our son Slash.”
“Who says Slash can’t be a girl’s name too? But I’m glad you finally agree it’s a boy.”
“I’m doing no such thing.” She rubs her belly. “It’s a girl. A mother knows.”
A lump forms in my throat. “Shit, Abbs. You’re going to be a mother. I mean, I know that, but sometimes reality just creeps up on me. I’m gonna be a dad.”
“You’re gonna be the best dad.”
We gaze at each other. We do that a lot. That’s the reason I know we’re meant to be together—we never get tired of looking at each other. Even when we don’t talk, it’s never awkward or uncomfortable.
The front door opens and Mom comes in. Abby doesn’t bother lifting her head off my lap. Mom knows all about us. We had to tell her. We can’t afford a place of our own while we’re in high school. She didn’t even wait for me to ask; she invited Abby to move in as soon as we told her she was pregnant. She’s well aware of how strict Abby’s parents are. For the past several months, we’ve been planning—all three of us. I think Mom is even a little excited about having a grandchild.
She hands Abby a bag. “I couldn’t resist.”
Abby sits up and removes a tiny yellow outfit that reads My Parents Rock.
Abby and I laugh. It’s the first baby thing we’ve gotten. Somehow it makes this more real than before.
“It’s perfect,” Abby says, getting off the couch to hug my mom. “She’ll wear it home from the hospital.”
“You mean he will,” I say.
Mom snickers. “It’ll work either way because it’s yellow.”
“Thank you so much, Mrs. Rewey. For everything. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”
“I think we’re past ‘Mrs. Rewey,’ Abby. You’re moving in next week, and you’re having my grandchild. You should call me Shelly.”
Abby smiles. “Okay … Shelly. Wow, that feels strange. I’ll have to get used to that.”
“We’ll all have to get used to a lot of things,” Mom says. “Speaking of which, do you guys want to go shopping with me tomorrow for a new bed?”
“A new bed?” I ask.
“Surely you don’t expect Abby to sleep in your full-sized one. You both may fit now, but in a few months, she’s going to need more space.”
I cock my head to the side. “You’re going to let her sleep in my room? We thought she’d be in the guest room.”
“It sounds strange to think it and even stranger when you say it out loud, but it’s not like you’ll get her more pregnant, Chris. What’s done is done. Plus you’ll be married soon. Why postpone the inevitable? And the guest room is more suited for a nursery, don’t you think?”
“Why can’t my parents be more like you, Mrs., er, Shelly.”
“They’ll come around,” Mom says. “Wait until they see their grandbaby.”
“I think you give them too much credit,” Abby says. “I’m fully prepared for them to cut me out of their lives.”
“Nonsense. I can see how much they love you. That won’t change because you’ve done something they don’t approve of. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I approve either, but you know what they say about lemons and lemonade.” She touches Abby’s stomach. “This baby is all kinds of lemonade.”
“My dad will say I’m an embarrassment.”
“Perhaps, but he’ll get over it.”
“He’ll try to make me give the baby up for adoption.”
“That’s not really his choice, is it?”
“He won’t be happy about me moving in here.”
“You’ll be eighteen, honey. It’s your decision, not his. And you never know. They might surprise you. Maybe they’ll want you and the baby to stay there.”
I tug Abby closer to me. “No way. She’s moving here, and we’re getting married.”
“Even if they say Abby and the baby can live with them?”
I turn and look directly into Abby’s eyes. “Even then. I’m not marrying you to give you a place to live. I’m not even sure I’m marrying you because of the baby. I’m