Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
" Y ou ready for this?" Nathan murmured in my ear.
"No," I muttered, before raising my voice. "Mom? Dad?" I knew my mom was upstairs putting away laundry and I could hear my dad typing away on his laptop in the living room. "Can you guys come into the kitchen for a second, please?"
The clacking of computer keys stopped, going quiet, as did the rest of the house. It was eerie. I could hear Nathan breathing beside me.
I squeezed his hand.
"It'll be fine," he whispered.
My mom was making her way downstairs on light feet. She saw me in the kitchen first, hand in hand with Nathan.
Hand in hand with the man I loved. With the man who loved me.
Her eyes went round.
"Don't freak out," I told her.
"What is it, honey?" my dad asked as he came into the kitchen. "What's wrong?—"
He stopped short, too. My parents stared at us.
My throat closed up.
Nathan stepped forward and offered his hand to my dad.
"Mr. Miller," he said, as polite as I'd ever heard him. My dad took his hand reflexively and gave it a single pump. Nathan turned to my mom and did the same. "Mrs. Miller." She shook his numbly.
"It's nice to finally meet you," he said. "I'm Nathan Walker, Becca's boyfriend."
I couldn't stop a beaming grin from lighting up my face. I knew we'd just confessed our love to each other, but hearing the word boyfriend out loud from Nathan's lips sent joy singing through me.
"I see," my mom replied. Her eyes roved over Nathan's arms, taking in the multitude of tattoos. "I thought you two had broken up."
"We're back together," I explained. "We've talked things out and Nathan made me realize a few things."
"Such as?" my dad cut in.
"That we love each other," Nathan replied. "And that nothing about Becca's illness is going to stop me from being with her."
My mom and dad looked taken aback.
"I didn't actually ask you guys to come in here to talk about Nathan," I said. "We're together. End of story. Nothing you say or do will change that. I just wanted him here for the moral support, because I need to tell you something else."
My parents looked as if they'd both gone through whiplash. They turned toward each other, having a silent conversation with their eyes, the way long-time couples did. Even when they fought with each other, they still understood one another. Confusion turned into worry, and then that worry turned into fear.
Before they could work themselves up too much, I spoke up.
"I had a check up recently," I told them without preamble. "They found that a part of my pulmonary valve is tearing off. I'm going to need open heart surgery to replace it."
They held themselves still, neither one of them breathing, as if waiting for something worse to come along.
It was. But not in the way they thought.
"And I'm moving out," I told them.
"Becca!" they both protested, my mom shrilly, my dad low and growling.
"I'm not saying right now," I continued. "I know I'm going to need a lot of care after the surgery. I'm just saying, I can't live the rest of my life in the basement. I was right here the whole time, with you guys keeping an eye on me, and something still went wrong with my heart. Wrapping me in bubble wrap and treating me like I'm a porcelain doll didn't stop my heart from getting fucked up anyway."
"Language!" my mom admonished without thinking.
"I'm twenty-two, Mom," I said. "And no, I'm not one hundred percent healthy. There's always a chance something might go wrong. But I could also be hit by a bus on my way to work tomorrow, too. I can't spend my whole life worrying about what terrible thing might happen. I have to live my life. And so do you."
My mother's face was red, and I didn't know whether it was from anger or distress.
"Mom. You have to go back to work. You can't just sit at home worrying that something's going to happen to me. You need to live your own life, just like I need to live mine."
I turned to my dad. His brows were drawn down, looking at me with a forlorn expression on his face.
"Dad, you have to quit that damn job. I know you're worried about money and insurance but we'll figure it out."
I dug my nails into Nathan's palm to keep him from speaking up. I knew my parents wouldn't take kindly to my rock star musician boyfriend offering to foot all my bills.
"We've let my illness dictate our lives and it's nearly ruined us. You've been fighting with each other for years. You've tried to hide it from me, but not well enough. You probably would have gotten divorced long ago if you weren't so worried about how I'd take it."
They both wore guilty expressions on their faces.
"And I'm growing to resent the two of you," I continued. "It was one thing when I was a kid and I needed someone to take care of me anyway. But I'm grown up now and if you keep smothering me the way you have, eventually I'm going to start hating you, too."
My mom blinked rapidly in that way of hers that told me she was holding back tears.
"Becca, honey… I never want you to hate me. I just want what's best for you. I just want to look out for you."
"And you have been," I told her. "You've looked out for me my whole life. But…" I looked to Nathan and smiled up at him. "I have other people in my life to look out for me, too. You shouldn't have to bear that burden alone."
A tear escaped down her cheek before she could stop it.
"You were never a burden," she choked out. "You're my baby girl and I love you."
I went to her and pulled her into a hug. I felt my dad come up from behind, place his large palm on my shoulder and lean down to kiss the top of my head.
"You're really sure about this?" he rumbled in a quiet voice.
"About moving out? Yeah. I am."
"And this young man. You're sure about him too?"
I smiled to myself. "Yeah. I'm sure."
"Well, okay, then."
My dad straightened up and cleared his throat. I let go of my mom and went back to take Nathan's hand. My dad eyed the two of us, as if sizing up the new man in my life. He didn't look entirely convinced, but there was no outright hostility, which was more than I could have hoped for.
"Mr. Walker," my dad said with a nod. Nathan went stiff, his palm going clammy. I think he realized that, now that my portion of the evening was over, it was time for his parental interrogation.
"You know my little girl is special," my dad began.
Nathan nodded, squeezing my hand tight.
"And I won't let just anyone into her life…"
"You don't get to make that choice for me, Dad," I interrupted, but my dad talked over me.
"I need to make sure you really understand what a relationship with my daughter is going to mean."
"Of course, sir," Nathan said solemnly.
"You know about her defect?" he asked. "You know about her surgeries?"
"She needed a hole in her heart repaired when she was a baby," he said immediately. "Then they needed to give her a valve transplant."
"And you're aware of her need for regular replacements?"
"Yes. Her valve isn't a permanent one because it's not the best option for her. Something about blood thinners…?" he trailed off.
My dad nodded. "Continue."
"Organic valves have shorter life spans so they need to be replaced. And the doctors constantly monitor her health to see when that needs to happen."
"And what about when you want to have children?"
"Dad!" I cried out. "That's a little too soon to ask about, don't you think?"
"No, it's okay, I read about that, too," Nathan said.
I gaped. "You did?"
"Well, I'm not talking about any time soon, but…" he gave me a soft smile before turning back to my dad. "I'm aware of the complications when it comes to having kids. Women with Becca's condition can have successful pregnancies, but there is definitely a higher risk. Sometimes they get their valves replaced with a brand new one before trying, preemptively. They need to be monitored much more because of that high risk. Sometimes it's safer to look into surrogates."
My dad made a noise in the back of his throat. I hoped it was a pleased or impressed noise. To be honest, I was impressed myself. Nathan really had been looking into this.
The pregnancy thing, though…
My ears burned at having had that conversation in front of my parents.
"You have done your research," my dad said, conceding. I could audibly hear Nathan's relieved sigh.
"If you're going to be a part of this family, we should get to know each other," my dad said. "No skulking around and sneaking in through the back door. Deal?"
The both of us flushed. Clearly Nathan hadn't been as discreet as he'd thought. I was astonished to think my dad knew about him and hadn't said anything to my mom about it.
"Why don't we all have dinner tonight?" my dad suggested. "We can talk about your surgery and what help you'll need and how we'll manage all that."
"Not yet," I said. They all looked at me. "There's something Nathan and I need to do first."
Nathan looked at me, confused.
"I'm going to call Jessie and ask her to bring Gael to the hospital," I said.
Nathan's face went pale with panic as he began to understand what I meant.
"I was truthful with my family," I told him. "Now you're going to be truthful with yours."