Chapter 26
26
Tatum
“Don’t be nervous.”
His voice is soothing, despite me being too anxious to say anything.
Holding my hand on top of his leg, Harrison says, “Look at me, Tate.”
I look at the handsome man next to me in the cab and nod, too anxious to say anything. His hold tightens, giving me security, and he kisses me on the cheek. “It doesn’t matter what they say or don’t say. All that matters is what’s right here in this car. You. Me. And this baby.”
“I can’t drink.” Panic rises inside. “I shouldn’t admit it, but I need a glass of wine or something when I’m around them.”
“The French drink wine when?—”
“I’m not French, and I’m not drinking. I understand it’s a coping method.” Taking a deep breath, I exhale, seeing the restaurant up ahead. “I’ll just have to get by with . . . I don’t know. Water and you. That’s enough.”
He chuckles. “Glad I can be of service. But for real, you say the word, and we’ll leave.”
“Thank you.” I do feel calmer though I won’t truly feel better until this dinner is over. I can usually handle dinner with my parents, especially on my birthday, knowing I’ll get something fabulous or a blank check. But this dinner is different. Not only am I introducing my boyfriend to them but I’m also telling them I’m pregnant.
Sure, I could wait on the latter, but why? My friends know, so it’s only right that my parents do before Page Six does.
We walk into the restaurant, and we’re directed to the bar to wait. “What do you want to drink, baby?”
Baby . . . I remember the first time he called me that and how for that time I was with him, I felt like his. Now hearing it in public like it’s a fact, I find peace because he’s truly shown me how much he cares. It may seem like a little thing, but it’s more than I’ve ever let anyone else in. “Perrier with lemon, please.”
I remain standing awkwardly off to the side near a column as he works his way between two couples to order the drinks at the bar. It wasn’t that long ago that I was jealous of him talking to those women after The Resistance concert. Rubbing my baby, I relish in the comfort that spreads. Now, here I am about to be the mother of his child.
This is quite the plot twist.
He returns, handing me a drink. “This place is packed. Do we need a reservation?”
“My parents got one. The name Devreux carries weight in certain circles.”
He sips his drink, indifferent. None of that seems to impress him. It’s something I appreciate.
“Harrison?”
We both turn toward the sound of a woman calling his name. My instinct tells me to mark him, grab onto him, to do something to stake my claim. But that’s not something I need to lower myself to do. I hold the cold glass a little tighter when I see a blonde with legs hanging out of a very short skirt. It’s a skirt I would totally wear, which makes her more annoying.
Peeking over at Harrison, I’m thinking he’s caught in some fight or flight mode the way he’s eyeing the exit but knows he’s stuck with me.
She throws herself at him, at my baby daddy, hugging him as though she owns . . . or has had sex with him. I’m tempted to step away to give them privacy. Not really. It’s the jealousy I’m trying to walk away from, but that’s inside me, so yeah. Fun times.
Oohing over him, she says, “You look so good.”
“I did not expect to see you, Talon.”
Talon? I flip my hair over my shoulder and raise my chin.
She asks, “Why didn’t I call you back?”
“I guess because I never called,” he says and then smoothly takes a gulp of his drink. Yep, he’s all mine, ladies, and I can’t be more proud. “I thought you got married?”
“I was supposed to. Got to the altar when he presented a prenup, so I called it off.”
She shrugs like it is no big deal. “If he doesn’t trust me, we have nothing.”
“Agreed.”
Patting his chest, she laughs, but it’s fake as fuck. “So I was thinking we should give it another go.”
He reaches for my hand, but since I had kind of slinked away, he has to bend to get it. “This is my girlfriend. She’s having my baby. God, I can’t wait.”
I need alcohol for this. Hitting him with a glare for dragging me into this, I do what a good girlfriend would and face her with a smile. “Yep, we’re having a baby together. I mean, the sex is fantastic, so go me. I don’t need him for the money though, but I’m glad he’s loaded.” Poking her with my elbow, I continue, “Loaded. Wink. Wink. Nudge. Nudge. If you know what I mean. This baby didn’t happen magically.”
“I’m gonna go,” she says, scrunching her nose and looking at me like I’m a lunatic.
Whatever gets the job done is what I always say. Not sure what worked, but something in there got her to leave him alone. I take a long sip of my bubbly water, looking at him innocently. When I swallow, I then say, “She sure left in a hurry.”
“Wonder why?” His sarcasm drips as his arm comes around me, and he kisses my head.
“I didn’t get a name in that introduction, just that I’m your girlfriend and your baby mama.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think it mattered since I have no intention of ever seeing her again. Her name is Talon. She’s a flight attendant.”
“And you’ve had sex with her?”
A cocked eyebrow highlights his wide eyes. “Is that something you really want to know?”
“I already know, or you would have denied it. Since you didn’t, I guess I got my answer.”
We’re close to fighting over this, and that’s not something I want to do tonight or ever when other women are involved. We’re together, or we’re not. There’s not going to be an in-between. But I was privy to him handling that situation, and I can’t reason myself into being mad.
I take his hand and hold it proudly. I’m just about to tell him how I really feel, not about that woman, but about him, those three words that I haven’t said to any man I’ve dated.
He drags his phone from his pocket, and when he checks it, he says, “Table’s ready.”
Probably best . . .
After going to the hostess stand, we’re led through the restaurant to a quieter corner. To my surprise, my parents are already seated. There have been birthdays where they have been late . . . or just not shown up. I release Harrison’s hand to greet both of them with a hug. Then turn. “This is Harrison Decker, my boyfriend. Harrison, Camille and Laurence Devreux.”
A round of greetings is followed by us sitting down at the table and placing our drink orders. I order another sparkling water, and Harrison orders the same. A little squeeze of my leg under the table follows. Before he pulls away, I grab it, holding it like a security blanket.
“No vodka or wine?” my mom asks.
“No, I have an early meeting tomorrow, and I want to get up to work out.” That’s too much information. Rambling is always a dead giveaway to a lie. It doesn’t have to be a lie, though. I could work out. I need to.
My dad says, “Happy Birthday. Has it been a nice day?”
“I had a lovely day yesterday. The office celebrated. Harrison and I decided to celebrate with you since we were seeing you guys today.”
“I’m not a guy, Tatum,” my mom says, hot on my heels about the slang. Her attention turns to Harrison. “Weren’t you at the Christiansen’s anniversary party?”
Harrison answers confidently, “Yes, I was there. Nick and I grew up together. We weren’t introduced unfortunately, so it’s nice to finally meet you.”
My mom leans forward, her eyes studying him. “You and Tatum were not together at the dinner, from what I remember. But you did go running after her.”
Glancing at me, Harrison smiles, self-assured and ready to slay the dragon. “I didn’t run after her. I was checking on her well-being.” He gave her more than that rude question deserved.
“You are the other godparent.” A little laugh escapes her.
“I am.”
My dad jumps in the fray. “You’ve been dating him since then?”
“Officially,” Harrison replies. “But I’ve wanted to be with your daughter from the moment we met.”
“And when was that?” my mom asks.
I say, “Almost five years ago. We met in Catalina at the same time as Nick and Natalie.”
“The baby news is wonderful. They are such a lovely couple. Don’t you think?”
I say, “Of course, we think so, Mom. They’re our best friends.”
The drinks are delivered, and everybody takes a sip at the same time, like returning to your corner in the middle of a boxing match. I’ll refresh and then get pumped up for the next round.
My dad delivers the next punch. “A new relationship and a birthday. A lot of pressure comes with that, Harrison. What did you get Tatum for her birthday? She has very expensive tastes.” Oh he did not just go there.
Leaning forward, Harrison replies, “Well, sir, I haven’t given her the present yet. I was waiting until we got back to the apartment.”
I could worry about the small details like him telling my parents he’s coming home with me. But tonight, I have bigger fish to fry. We’ve gotten over one hump with that meeting my new boyfriend. I’m thinking we should wait until after the main course to tell them about the baby. I wish Harrison and I had discussed when to drop the bombshell before we got here.
My parents seem to be in top form—aloof, quick with the judgments, and ready to take advantage of any shortcoming that presents itself. Basically, just like my childhood.
We order our food, and the conversation veers toward lighter topics, ones more suitable for their moods, like their travels and what they’re planning for the holidays still six months away.
An envelope slides across the table during dessert. I don’t need to open it to know what it is, but I do, putting on the show for them, like a blank check will ever make up for my lost childhood. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“What do you think you’re buying with it?” my mom asks.
“I’m not sure. Something special.” Maybe, this birthday’s gift will go toward my baby. Right now, I don’t want to tell them. I don’t want to gift them with this beautiful news.
But my nerves are starting to get the better of me again. I don’t even think I can eat dessert. I look at Harrison for assurance and find it in the depth of his blue eyes.
I fold the check and put it in my clutch before I find Harrison’s hand under the table again. This is the moment. The one when I tell my parents they’re about to become grandparents.
“Mom? Dad? Harrison and I would like to tell you something important.”
My mom is onto us, her eyes looking back and forth between us like she’s watching Wimbledon. “Why build it up? Just say it.”
One more glance is exchanged with my one ally at the table before I say, “I’m pregnant.”
Boom.
Just like that.
I’m in. I drop the bomb. And then I sit there and wait for World War III to begin.
Except it doesn’t.
There wasn’t any noise before I confessed my secret, but now it’s dead quiet in this corner of the restaurant. The waiter even stops by, but as soon as he opens his mouth, he closes it and rushes away again.
My mom asks, “This is a joke, right? The godparent thing was too much, so you having your own baby at this point in your life is not a good idea. Please tell me you’re trying to get a rise out of us like you did when you were a teen.”
I can’t say I was hoping for the best. I was expecting the worst. And she beat those expectations. “You’re a horrible person.”
“Tatum,” my dad snaps at me.
“You both are. I don’t know why you had me.”
“Because of the inheritance,” my mom replies like that is normal.
Harrison is standing and pulling out my chair. “We’re done here.”
I don’t remember breathing or not breathing. I only remember the look in their eyes as we got up and decided to leave them behind. I also remember how the world got quiet that night, my thoughts screaming in my head.
Harrison was holding my hand but already held my heart. And that night he proved it. On the sidewalk, I tugged him to a stop. When he turned back, unsure why I did that, he asks, “What’s going on?”
“I love you.”