Chapter 26 Friday, May 19th #2
My grandpa laughs ruefully. “Let him try. I’ll gladly remind him that he had to break similar news to us when he was even younger than you.”
“How did you take it when he told you?” I ask, realizing I’ve never actually heard that story.
“Well, it was certainly a shock in the beginning, but there was no question that we’d support him and… and Rica,” he says, hesitating on my mother’s name.
“How’s Cat doing?” my grandma asks.
“She’s scared,” I say. “We saw her doctor on Monday and… we saw the baby on the ultrasound. It’s so weird…” I trail off, still completely unable to wrap my head around the fact that Cat’s pregnant.
“How far along is she?” my grandpa asks.
“Just over eight weeks.”
My grandmother sighs. “Ronan Perry Soult. In Montana?”
I’m not a blusher, but it suddenly feels very hot in the car. “Yeah. Sorry,” I say sheepishly. “Her due date’s Christmas Day,” I say for I-don’t-know-what-reason, other than to distract from the fact that Cat and I had sex—a lot of it, actually—on the ranch.
“Ronan, listen to me,” she says. “I know you’re scared.
I know. But you’re both going to be fine.
You’re not alone. You are loved. You have each other, you have your dad and brother, you have us, and you have great friends.
I will not tell you that it’s going to be easy, but it’s doable.
And… baby boy, you’re going to be a great daddy. ”
Her words make my heart squeeze in my chest.
“I hope you’re right,” I say quietly.
“When have you ever known me to be wrong?”
I can’t help but laugh. “Never, I guess.”
“There you go,” she says. “When are you planning on telling your dad?”
“Tonight. At dinner. You know, when the whole damn clan is together and joined by Cat’s family.
What could go wrong?” I immediately feel anxious again.
Jesus, what a fucking emotional rollercoaster this is.
“Maybe you two could form a human chain and stop him from murdering me,” I say, only slightly joking.
“He will do no such thing,” she says with a quiet chuckle.
“You’re right; it’s really more Cat’s dad I need to worry about,” I say through gritted teeth. “Jesus…” I sigh quietly.
“Sticks and stones, baby boy. Whatever their initial reaction will be, just remember that it’s instinctive.
It’ll be based on shock and surprise and probably a lot of concern for you and Cat.
Things will simmer down, they will stabilize, and everything is going to work out.
Everything is temporary, even the hard times. ”
“I’ve never wanted you to be more right, Morai.”
Cat
I’ve avoided my parents as much as possible this week, spending every single night at Ronan’s place. My dad grumbled about it. A lot. But if he thought he had reason to be mad before, boy does he have another thing coming.
The only person I couldn’t truly avoid was my mom.
She and I agreed weeks ago that, come summer break, I’d work three full days in her office.
Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I do enjoy the distraction, but I can’t lie, pretending everything’s normal while quietly researching prenatal vitamins between scheduling, confirming, and moving around her appointments has been…
exhausting. But at least I haven’t thrown up on a patient yet.
And seeing as I’m halfway through my first trimester already, I’m thinking my chances are good that I dodged it? Fingers crossed.
And now it’s past five. My mom’s office is locked up, work left behind, as my mom and I walk into Frank and Penny’s house.
My mom and I are the last to arrive, and not only that, it’s immediately obvious to me that Ronan has made good on his plan to tell his grandparents on their way back from the airport.
Saoirse wraps me tightly in her arms, then whispers, “If anyone gives you grief tonight, they’ll have Perry and me to reckon with. ”
She pulls back, gives me a wink, then slips away into the kitchen where my parents are deep in conversation with Frank, Penny, and Perry.
The only one I don’t spot in the kitchen is Ronan.
Not a surprise. Of all the places in this house, the kitchen’s his least favorite.
Or perhaps I should say most disliked. I follow Saoirse down the hallway, then glance right into the living room.
That’s when I spot him.
Ronan’s on the living room floor, lying on his side next to one of his baby brothers, who’s busy practicing the art of tummy time on a colorful ABC blanket.
Ronan's talking softly, coaxing him through it, and every so often he gently helps him roll from front to back and then back again, cheering each tiny success like it’s the Olympics.
Something inside me cracks. And then it breaks, revealing something new.
Like the seed of a different kind of love—something distinct from what I already feel for Ronan—ready to take root and spread through every inch of me.
All the tension I walked in with melts into something mushy, something gooey and hormonal and so totally unhelpful.
He’s so gentle. So focused. So… instinctive.
Good god, it’s absurdly, unproductively hot.
I watch Ronan for a minute, drinking in the moment. No way I’m telling him this—yet—but he’s going to be an incredible daddy to our baby. I know that like I know that my name is Cat Leighton Stevenson.
***
The energy around the table is familiar, relaxed. My parents chat with Penny, Frank, and Frank’s parents like they’re all lifelong friends, maybe even family. The smiles on their faces are genuine, warm.
Ronan’s and mine? Masks. All forced smiles that don’t reach our eyes, all appropriate nods and one-word responses.
Ronan’s been pushing food around on his plate like it personally offended him.
He stabs at the potatoes, shifts his vegetables, slices his chicken into tiny pieces, but I haven’t seen him lift his fork to his mouth once.
I get it. I have taken exactly two bites, once again battling the nausea churning in my stomach, once again wondering if it’s nerves or that tiny wiggle worm I saw on the ultrasound Monday.
Regardless, I have the odd sensation of being strapped to the tracks, Ronan by my side, watching the train barrel toward us. I know we can’t stop this. All I can do is brace for it and hope we survive.
“So, I think Steve and Ember are going to be fine. Steve talked about a potential transfer. Ran just helped him move into his new apartment last weekend,” Frank says, continuing some conversation I wasn’t even aware was happening. I only register it when the words stop and the silence shifts.
All eyes turn to Ronan, who’s still staring down at his plate, eyes distant and unfocused like his thoughts are a million miles away.
“Ran?” his dad says.
I nudge him. His eyes snap to mine, wide for a second, then I nod toward Frank.
Ronan’s eyes turn to his dad. “Uh, sorry. What?”
Frank’s brow creases.
“What is going on with you two tonight?” my mom asks, like she’s just now noticing how quiet we’ve been. Her gaze moves from me to Ronan, sharp and assessing. “You’ve both been unusually quiet. Is everything alright?”
Suddenly, the entire table is watching us.
Ronan’s hand finds mine under the table, squeezing tight, grounding. He inhales deeply.
“Sorry, guys,” he says. “I don’t want to ruin your evening, but… we need to tell you something.”
His eyes flick to his grandma, whose face softens almost imperceptibly.
You’d only catch it if you already knew she knows.
But Ronan does. And whatever quiet message passes between them, it’s enough.
I feel him square his shoulders beside me, like her silent encouragement just injected him with the courage he needed.
He looks at me first, then around the table. Everyone watches him, quiet and waiting.
Ronan draws another breath. Steady. Solid.
“Cat is pregnant.”
I’m holding his hand so tight I’m probably cutting off his circulation, but I can’t let go. Not now.
The reaction around the table is instantaneous and explosive.
My mom clasps her hands over her mouth to stifle her shocked cry. My dad jumps up from the table, his chair scraping against the hardwood floor. Frank literally drops his fork and knife, and Penny keeps whispering oh my gods and holy shit on a loop.
Saoirse’s eyes sweep the room like a hawk, calculating which threat to monitor first, while Perry wears the quiet, knowing look of someone who’s been here before.
“You’re joking, right?” my dad bellows, leaning toward Ronan like he might lurch straight across the table and strangle him.
Ronan just shakes his head.
Not satisfied, my dad turns to me—eyes pleading, searching—like he’s still holding out hope this is all just some kind of bad joke. But whatever he sees on my face confirms the truth, and he reverts to glowering at Ronan, face red and seemingly steaming.
“Ran, what the fuck,” Frank growls. “Haven’t I always told you to be careful? How could you do this to Cat? You’re eighteen. Eighteen!” His voice rises as he gets to his feet.
Both Penny and Saoirse reach for him, a hand on each arm, like they’re bracing for whatever he might do next.
“You need to rein it in, son,” Perry says to Frank, calm but firm.
Frank stares at his dad, incredulous. “Are you serious, Dad?”
My own dad starts pacing in tight, angry circles.
“Jesus Christ,” he barks, before stopping to press his palms to the table and glare at Ronan.
“So what are you gonna do, son?” he asks, voice low and sharp.
“I hope you don’t expect my daughter to drop out of college to raise your kid.
You better be ready to step up! God damn it. ”
Frank continues to pile on. “I can’t believe you weren’t more careful, Ran. I can’t believe you let this happen.”
“Bobby!” my mom cries, trying to cut through the chaos, but it’s too late. The room is a storm of angry voices and she’s only adding to the cacophony.