Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Zander
Walking from her house to her parents’ place on the path along the lake is peaceful. Usually on our walks, quiet settles in my chest, and I get more and more relaxed. But tonight, I’m just a walking frayed nerve. I wasn’t even this nervous the first time I performed at the Grand Ole Opry.
“I feel like I should warn you before we walk in there,” I say to Romy.
“Warn me?” She tugs at her sleeve against the evening chill.
She’s bundled in a sweater and jeans, dressed down from the flirty dresses she usually torments me with when she’s at work.
The dresses are torture for me, so I’m kind of happy she’s fully covered.
That way I can concentrate on the dinner and her family and not that I want to get her into bed.
“I’ve never done the whole meet-the-parents thing.”
She laughs, not fully understanding how stressful this is for me. “Well, good thing you already met them then.”
“You know what I mean, Romy. I’m going to go in there, and after we deliver the news, your dad will know I’ve slept with you. We have to tell him you’re pregnant, and we’re not even a couple. He’s going to hate me.”
Why did I say I’d come? She wasn’t expecting me to.
Because you weren’t going to let her do this alone, you dipshit.
“Relax. I’m telling you right now, my parents are super cool. You don’t have to worry. And my mom already knows. God, my dad probably already knows to be honest. He’s just gonna pretend like it’s a big surprise. That’s the way they usually work.”
She’s so casual about it, but not a minute has gone by today that I didn’t worry about how this was going to go down tonight. Family dinners? I thought that was television sitcom made-up shit.
“I know, but if I act weird or stutter or I’m quiet, please know it’s just my nerves.”
I stop on the path near the lake, and she halts beside me. She leans into me, resting her head on my shoulder.
“Zander, you’re way overthinking this. We’re just going to tell them I’m pregnant.
Lottie’s going to be sarcastic. Brooks will probably groan.
Bennett’s gonna shrug, more worried about chasing Wren or Leia than my situation.
And Delaney will probably swoon, thinking it’s the best thing ever.
And my dad? He’s not one of those ‘I’m gonna clean my shotgun’ dads.
” She squeezes my forearm. “I promise, you’re good. ”
Her words should ease me, but the weight still presses down on me.
I’ve thought a lot about why it’s so important to me for her family not to hate me because of the situation we’ve found ourselves in, and I keep saying it’s because they’re my kid’s family, and I’ll be an active part in their lives.
But I think part of it is also that I want them to like me for Romy.
Think I’m worthy of being the father of their grandchild.
How could they possibly though, when we’re announcing Romy’s pregnancy and telling them we’re going to co-parent instead of be a couple?
“I don’t want them to think I’m some jackass who left you high and dry. It’s bad enough that I was careless enough not to use a condom. That might say everything he needs to know about me.”
“My parents know people have sex before marriage. And believe me, Bennett’s story is a doozy compared to ours.”
“Really, what?”
She shakes her head. “I’ll tell you later.”
Romy slides her hand into mine as if that’s going to soothe my fears. Her thumb brushes across my knuckles, and surprisingly, her affection does calm me a bit.
We climb the steps to the back porch, and she walks into the house. I thought we’d have a few more seconds while we waited for someone to answer the door.
My nerves sharpen into a steel edge. I realize that I feel the same way I did the first time I stepped onstage in a packed arena, the spotlight burning down on me.
Somehow it almost feels harder tonight, and it’s just a table full of her family.
But these people’s opinions mean more to me than thousands of nameless, faceless fans in the crowd.
“Hey, Mom. Dad,” Romy calls, leading me through the house.
The house is everything I’d expect from the Owens. Pictures of the kids at different ages. Christmases, Halloweens, school pictures, sports pictures all proudly displayed. Everyone smiling and posed. Laughing impromptu ones, too. Love seeps out of every wall and surface.
My throat tightens. I don’t belong here. I’m never going to be a family member to them. I’m just going to be the dad of one of their grandchildren.
I hover behind Romy. She releases my hand, and I almost reach for it back like a lifeline. The love in this house crowds in from all corners. I’m glad that Romy had it, but it’s a reminder of everything I wanted once upon a time that I never got.
Her mom is at the stove, lifting foil off a pan, while her dad tosses a salad. Appetizers line the counter. Romy doesn’t hesitate, sitting and digging into bruschetta. I stand stiffly behind her, unsure what to do.
Darla glances over her shoulder. “Hey, Zander, nice of you to join us.”
She wipes her hands on a dish towel, taps Brad’s shoulder, and crosses the room. I extend my hand, expecting a shake, but she walks right into my unopened arms.
“No handshakes here, big guy—just hugs.”
Her arms are warm and steady and provide the kind of motherly comfort I’ve never known. She knows Romy is pregnant, yet she still hugs me when she should be kicking me in the balls. Romy was right, it might be okay.
Brad sets down the salad tongs. I met him at the cookout, exchanged a few words, but that was before he knew I’m the guy who knocked up his daughter.
He extends a hand. “Hey, Zander, nice to see you again.”
I shake it, firm as if I’m trying to prove something, convey I’m not going to fuck over his daughter.
“She’s the hugger. I gotta feel you out.” He winks, and I’m unsure how to take that.
“Oh my god, Dad, stop.” Romy takes another piece of bread and puts the tomato concoction over it. “Zander, want some?”
Brad kisses Romy’s cheek, hugs her from behind, and winks at me again before walking back over to the salad. The ease between them is so foreign that witnessing it seems as if I’m staring into a snow globe.
The door bursts open, and a golden retriever barrels in.
“Mack, Mack, Mack!” Romy kneels, hugging the golden retriever. “Oh, I missed you, buddy. I haven’t seen you in forever. Where are they keeping you these days?”
“We’re keeping him in our house. Maybe you should venture away from The Knotted Barn occasionally and visit your family,” Lottie says, stepping into the room.
Brooks follows, still dressed in his sheriff’s uniform. “He’s driving me crazy. He’s getting used to the new land, but I feel like he’s trying to teach all the bunnies he’s the sheriff.” He shakes Brad’s hand, then Darla hugs him.
“Hey, Brooks, keeping our girl out of trouble?” Darla asks.
Brooks chuckles. “Yeah, you might remember, but your eldest daughter finds her own trouble.”
They laugh, and I shift awkwardly until Brooks turns to me.
“Zander, nice to see you. I heard you were going to join us this evening.”
He shakes my hand, feeling firmer than necessary, but who am I to judge? I’m trying to prove who I am here too.
Then the chaos begins. The door bangs open, and two little girls dart into the room, sliding across the floor toward the dog. One of them has a tennis ball in hand.
“Mack, Mack, let’s go!” they say in unison.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, girls,” Darla says.
“Say your hellos,” Brad says, stripping away the tennis ball.
“Where are your parents?” Darla asks.
“They were taking forever, so we ran ahead,” one says.
The girls hug everyone quickly, barely allowing each person to wrap their arms around them. Then they stop in front of me. They look alike but different. Clearly siblings.
“Who are you?” the one with darker hair asks.
“You know who he is,” the other one says. “Don’t act dumb.”
“I’m not dumb.”
“He’s Zander Shaw. We were at the cookout, Wren. Don’t you remember—”
“Girls!” Romy drops her half-eaten bruschetta on the counter and bolts up.
“Let me introduce you.” She stands behind the darker haired one.
“This is Wren.” She shifts her body behind the next one.
“This is Leia. Girls, say hi to Zander.” She smiles over their heads, and my heart stutters because she introduced me as Zander and didn’t use my last name.
“Hi!” they say in unison. Then they look at Brad and Darla. “Can we go now?” The slight whine in their voices makes me chuckle.
“Go.” Brad tosses them the tennis ball.
They run off out the door, Mack following them with a single excited bark.
“Girls, careful! If the ball goes in the water, come tell us,” Bennett calls, then he and Delaney enter. Bennett’s arm is around her.
I glance at Romy because what must it be like for her in this family where everyone is coupled up, and she’s not? And now she’s pregnant.
“Oh, it’s nice of you to join us,” Lottie says.
Bennett puts out his hand. “Hey, Zander.” Then he moves to the next person, saying all his hellos.
Darla calls, “Okay, dinner’s ready. Let’s go. It’s lasagna.”
Romy grins. “Oh, you’re gonna love it, Zander.”
We file into the dining room. Bennett goes to get the girls, but Romy asks him to wait a second.
Shit. This is it. She’s gonna do it now.
I can’t breathe under the weight of the silence.
Romy stands behind what I assume is her chair. “I’m just going to make the announcement now because I want to really enjoy—” Her voice wobbles, and she turns to me.
I step closer, as if we’re a united front even if my heart is lodged in my throat.
Her voice steadies as she stands tall. “I’m pregnant. And Zander is the father.”