Chapter 9
FAMOUS LAST WORDS
SHARI
Brad comes to Bristol again the following weekend and we spend it in a bubble, getting to know each other on a deeper level and just existing together in ignorant bliss. But bubbles are made to pop, and when this one does, the real world comes crashing in.
“Hey babe,” Brad strolls into the bedroom with my phone in his hand, “your mother's calling.”
Oh shit. I haven't told my parents yet.
Brad must see the turmoil in my eyes because he asks if I want him to leave the room. I shake my head as I answer the call, and my mum's ear fills the screen.
“Hi Mummy, you know this is a video call, right? Move the phone so I can see your face.”
“Hi sayang, I can't see you, can you see me?”
“No, you're still holding the phone to your ear.” I try to fight the eye roll, but it wins.
Her nostrils fill the screen next as I see her squinting down into the screen.
“Mum. Can you maybe move the camera so I'm looking at your whole face rather than up your nose?”
“Oh, like this? How do I know when you can see me?”
“That box there, Fern. Bottom right. Hi darling!”
“Hi Papa!”
“Ohhh yes, I see! Ok. Hi sayang! How are you? What time is it there?”
“Yes, that's perfect. And it's, um, half-three.” Knowing my mother, I tack on, “In the afternoon. It's late for you, though, are you just getting home?”
My father takes the phone off my mum when she goes to place it on her lap and props it up on the table so I can see them both and not just the ceiling.
I look up to see Brad's shoulders shaking with silent laughter as my parents regale me about their day in their lovingly bickering way, and it's a real struggle to rein in my responding amusement.
“So, how are you, sayang? What have you been up to?”
Here we go.
“Well, actually, there's something I need to tell you. And I need you to not freak out. And before you start, it's not a bad thing. I'm not sick.”
“Ok. I'm glad you said that.”
“Who do I need to kill?” my dad unhelpfully interjects, leaning closer to the camera.
I blow out a breath and rush it all out incoherently, “I’mpregnantwithayoungerman'sbabyandyou’regoingtobegrandparents!” I squeeze my eyes shut as I wait for the reprimanding, because you're never too old to be told off by your parents.
“Did you say you're pregnant?”
I squint one eye open. “Yes?”
“Aiyoh! I'm going to be a grandmother?”
“Yes?” Why my responses sound like questions, I don't know. Brad squeezes my hand. He's off-screen so they don't even know he's in the room, but the gesture helps to ease my nerves.
“Congratulations, sayang! Who's the father? Are you back with Kristian?”
“Um, no. Not Kristian.”
“Who do I need to kill?”
“You don't need to kill anyone, Papa,” I huff with a roll of my eyes. “It's someone...new. His name is Brad, and he's here, actually.”
“Well, put him on! Hi Braaad!” Sometimes, I think my mum might be even less mature than I.
I mouth sorry to him as I pan the camera to show his face. “This is Brad. Brad, these are my parents, Fern and Eric.”
“Waaahh, so handsome!”
“Oh god, yes, Ma, he's very handsome. And has working ears.”
Brad just beams that megawatt smile at my mother, and she will absolutely be on Team Brad now. My father is a harder sell as he glares at Brad through the screen.
“Hi Fern, Eric. It's good to meet you both. Hopefully, we'll be able to meet in person soon.”
“Yes! Of course, we can come and stay for a couple of months around the birth! So, will you be getting married before the baby arrives?”
“You'd bloody better be planning on marrying my daughter, boy.”
I. Choke. On. Air.
And Brad? He just breaks out into booming laughter. How is he not shitting himself at my dad's tone?
Slinging an arm around my neck to pull me into the frame, he kisses my temple and so easily says, “We'll have to see on that one. At the moment, I'm struggling to convince your daughter to even date me.”
“Brad!” I whisper shout. I'm never going to hear the end of it now.
“Shari! You won't date him? Why? Sayang, you're having his baby. He's young and handsome. Better snag him while he's still interested! You're getting old and don't forget the baby will make you fatter.”
“Mum, I don't think this is the time–”
“Maybe he's an idiot. Are you an idiot? There must be a reason my darling daughter doesn't want you.”
“Papa! No, he's not an id–”
“You look like you've already started putting on weight, sayang, how far along are you?”
Before I can respond, Brad butts in. “I’m sorry, Fern. I know we've only just met, but I hope you know that your daughter is incredible. She’s beautiful, inside and out, so there's no danger of me ever not being interested, even after she's had our baby.”
“I know she's beautiful,” my mum says quietly. Probably shocked to be so politely chastised.
“Hmmm. Not an idiot then.” My dad's expression has morphed from suspicion to appraisal.
Hormones leak from my eyes in the shape of tears.
In one video call, this man has now stood up for me more times than my ex ever did.
That's not to say Kristian was a bad person or agreed with any of the hurtful things my mother has innocently come out with over the years, he just didn't want to get in the middle of it.
“Ok, Nana- and Grandpa-to-be, we have to go,” I manage to choke out, “but I'll send you a screenshot of the sonogram and I'll call you next week.”
“Ok, sayang. I think I'd prefer to be called Glamma, though.”
“I’m fine with being called Grandpa. You make sure to take care of my baby, Brad, or you'll be meeting me much sooner, under more sinister circumstances. Bye, darling, love you.”
“Oh god, no need for threats, Papa. Love you both.”
“I will, I promise. Bye Fern, Eric.”
We hang up and Brad pulls me into his chest where I soak his t-shirt with my confused emotions.
“I’m sorry, I don't even know why I'm crying. I actually expected it to be worse,” I sniffle.
“Ok, firstly, never apologise for having feelings. Secondly, is your mum always so negative about you like that? And thirdly, Fern isn't a particularly Asian name.”
My watery laugh pulls a smile from him, which, in turn, earns me a gentle kiss.
“Firstly, thank you. I can only imagine I will have many feelings over the next however many months.
Secondly, she is obsessed with weight. It seems to be a Malaysian thing, or maybe even just Asian in general.
At least, generationally speaking. And I know she isn't doing it to be mean, but it's so hard not to let it get under my skin,” I shake my head.
He just hums, noncommittally.
“And thirdly, Fern is a sort of nickname. Most of my mum's side of the family officially has Malay names, but an English nickname that they go by. My mum's actual name is Khadijah.”
“So the surname Jones, is that your maiden name, or was it your married name?”
“No, it's my maiden name. As I'm sure you could tell, my father is Australian. Well, Welsh, but his family moved to Brisbane when he was young. How were you not intimidated by him, though? I'm sorry he was so harsh.”
“Blaze, he wasn't harsh at all. Just looking out for his daughter, and I'm sure I'll be the same with our baby, whether it's a girl or a boy.”
I'm still snuggled into his chest, and the warmth of his body and his words lull me into a sleepy haze until something occurs to me.
“Wait, have you told your parents yet? About the baby?”
If I weren't pressed up against him, I might have missed the tensing of his muscles.
“No. Not yet. I, uh, I was actually hoping we could tell them together.”
I sit up at this.
“Wh-what? You want, you want me to be there when you tell them?”
“I know it's a lot to ask, but I honestly feel like they'll take it a lot better if you're with me. My mother, especially, will imagine the worst if you're just a faceless entity, but she'll love you when she meets you. They both will.”
“Yeah, because I'm probably about their age!”
“You're not their a—”
“They'll think you've randomly brought a new friend home for them. So I can't imagine it going down well when you drop the bomb that this old lady darkening their doorstep is a third of the way through her geriatric pregnancy with your baby!”
“Okayyyy, let's take some deep breaths, love. You're working yourself up a bit there.”
“I’m not hysterical, you are!”
“Umm, I never said you were, Blaze,” he says with a slight chuckle. “Come on, deep breaths with me. In. And out. That's good, that's good.”
My shaking breaths saw in and out of my lungs until they finally start to calm.
“Listen to me, Shari. None of that is going to happen because you're not old and my parents will be happy to see that I'm having a baby with someone so wonderful, regardless of our age gap. I promise.”
Famous last words.