Chap 1: The Christmas Secret That Wasn’t Mine
My mother rolled her eyes. Actually rolled them. “I already said I was sorry.”
“No,” I said into the mic, my voice shaking, “you said it was an accident.”
“Well, it was.”
“We only get one gender reveal.”
That was when she did it. She lifted one hand, palm out, like she was calming a dog. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Lauren. You can always have another baby.”
The words seemed to land physically. I felt them in my chest, my stomach, everywhere I had ever carried fear.
Maybe the rest of the guests did not know about the loss. Maybe they did not hear the full meaning in it. But Evan did. I saw it hit him. The expression on his face changed so fast it frightened me, not because he looked out of control, but because he finally stopped trying to keep the peace.
“Leave,” he said.
My mother laughed once, short and offended. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
Dad took a step forward. “Now hang on—”
“No,” Evan said. “You hang on. We invited you here. Lauren asked one thing from your wife. One. And then Diane ruined the reveal and told my pregnant wife she can just have another baby like this one is replaceable. So this party is over for you. Leave.”
My mother’s face went blotchy red. “I was excited about my first granddaughter.”
“And somehow that always seems to require ruining something for somebody else,” I said.
Mallory moved at last, but only to slide in at my mother’s shoulder like an attorney who billed by outrage. “She raised you,” she said. “You should be grateful she cares this much.”
I set the mic down before I threw it.
That was the closest I came all spring to understanding why people break plates in movies.
Instead, I walked through my own back door and locked myself in the downstairs bathroom, where I cried hard enough that I made myself light-headed. Evan came in after a few minutes and sat on the edge of the tub. I could hear voices outside, car doors slamming, someone saying, “This got blown way out of proportion,” which was always how my family described a thing my mother had done after everybody had been forced to witness it.
Evan passed me toilet paper and waited.
When I could finally breathe without gasping, I said, “She said I could always have another baby.”
His jaw tightened. “I heard.”
“I hate that she got to do that to me in front of everyone.”
“She didn’t get to,” he said. “She chose to. And now there’s a difference.”
I did not fully understand what he meant yet.
I would.
When I came out twenty minutes later, the yard looked like the afterimage of a celebration. Half the guests had slipped into cleanup mode because decent people do not know what else to do when a family detonates in public. Dana was stacking paper plates. Evan’s dad had turned the grill off and covered the food. His mother handed me a glass of water and said only, “You don’t owe anybody composure today.”
May you like
That line nearly undid me again.
After everyone left, I stood at the kitchen sink staring out at the stained glass tub on the patio. Pink had coated the inside so thoroughly it looked like the water had never been clear at all.
