17. Abby #2
“Mom, Dad, this is Kennedy, River’s girlfriend.” I give my dad a stern glare.
I turn to Kennedy, sympathy lacing my features.
“Kennedy, I’d like you to meet my parents, Collette and Rick Morris.
” I then mouth I’m sorry to River, and he gives me his big eyes, showing off the gold flecks in his hazel irises.
He and I know my dad was pretty close to punching him for hurting his little girl.
Poor River was almost on the receiving end of Clay’s assault. My dad would never have heard the end of that. Clay might love that story later, though, because he’s always the one being scrutinized by my mother, and River’s always being doted on.
My mother shakes Kennedy’s hand and proceeds to give River a big hug because I swear she thinks River is the best thing in Boston.
I roll my eyes at the gesture. My dad walks over and introduces himself to Kennedy properly and apologizes to River, his tail between his legs while doing so.
My arms are across my chest, embarrassed by my father’s behavior.
“Yeah, so we just swung by because my brother called.” It’s hard to hide my snort at the emphasis on the brother part. “He forgot his keys here. Sorry to interrupt.” River tucks his hands in his pockets, hoping I’ll grab what he needs so he can leave.
“Oh, let me grab them,” I say and hurry to find them. Luckily, they’re easily visible on the kitchen counter, and I snatch them up and run back to hand them off to River. “I’m surprised you don’t have a copy of them,” I say as I’m walking back to the front door.
“Yeah, I don’t know what happened to my set. I guess we need to fix that little issue. Thanks so much. We’re going to get going.” He grabs Kennedy’s hand, and they book it out of here. I swear I see a puff of smoke following them.
I turn to my dad. “Was that really necessary?”
“Seriously, Rick, that boy is so sweet,” she says, and I look at her like she’s high on glue.
“Okay, you’re one to talk, Mom!” I say as I shut the door.
“What do you mean?” she counters, and I walk off.
“You both need to sit down, and we are going to talk this out before Clay gets here with the food.” I point to the couch, and for the first time, my parents look like the children, and I’m the parent scolding them for being out past curfew.
They both take a seat, and I sit opposite them on the loveseat.
“Listen, I know a lot has happened with me lately. I went from being married to Clay to now being divorced with his child. I was living in California, and now I’m back in Boston.
I know I struggled with my fertility stuff for so long, all of us thinking I couldn’t have kids to me now saying I’m pregnant.
Believe me, I’m as surprised by this life I’m living as I’m sure you are.
But I’m living it,” I say because there is nothing about this that happened the way I had planned.
“I need you to understand that I’m doing this. Clay and I will co-parent this baby together. We haven’t figured everything out yet.” My mother tries to interject, but I hold my hand up.
“I’m talking now. I know you probably want to step in and take hold of certain parts of my life.
I get it; to you, I am your child, but Mom, Dad, I’m going to be a parent now.
I have to figure this out. You have to trust me to be one in my own way.
I came running home, and I allowed you to coddle me.
I was wrong in doing that, and I realize that now.
I need to do this on my own, sort of. I’m doing okay here. Don’t you see that?”
My parents look at each other, and then they swing their gazes at me.
My father is the one to speak. “Yes, sweetie, we see that. It’s hard, though, being so far away.
When you were going through all those struggles and hearing your mother cry after she’d hung up the phone with you, it was hard.
I kept my mouth shut because you know your mom.
She’s outspoken enough for the both of us.
“But it hurt me too, seeing you in pain. We wanted to fix all your cracks, so just realize how hard this is for us. We are so happy for you. We know how much being a mother has been a dream for you, and now you get to do that. But we also are nervous. I’m sorry I overreacted.
But when I saw who I thought was Clay—again, so sorry—with another woman, I just got so mad he’d disrespect you like that. ”
He bows his head, and I know how much all this hurts for both of them. The distance is a lot for them to overcome, but we’ve done this before, and it just takes time to adjust. We’ll get used to it again.
“Listen, I know this is a lot right now, but we have so much to be grateful for. And I’m not alone.
You met Kennedy. She’s my friend, and I have Malloy, who’s a firefighter and a friend of mine too.
” My mom looks up, hopeful I have a love interest, and I quickly dispel those thoughts. “Just a friend, Mom!”
“Okay, sorry.” She puts her hands up in surrender.
“Clay is coming over soon with lunch, and I want him treated with respect. No storming the door on his arrival, Dad. Got it?”
I give my dad a pointed look, and he also puts his hands up in surrender.
“I promise, Abby,” he says.
“Good. And, Mom, remember the promise you made me in California that you would put effort into giving Clay a chance when you saw him.” I look at her.
“Yes, that was my promise to you.”
“I really don’t know what the future holds for Clay and me, but I want peace between us because this baby deserves that.” I put my hand on my belly.
My parents watch the gesture, and the smiles grow on their faces.
My mom looks up at me, and our eyes connect.
“Abby, honey, can you show us a picture of the ultrasound?” she asks, and my smile doubles.
“Of course, Mom. I would love to.”
I make my way to my purse and rush back to show them all the images we got that day at Dr. Amri’s office.
I sit between my parents, and the way they gush at the images makes my heart grow. It feels a little more real knowing I get to see them in this role as grandparents in the months ahead.