If It Makes You Happy(112)

“Dad,” she breathes.

My heart is pounding. I can’t tell if I’m angry or sad or scared.

Scared. I’m definitely scared.

But when Emily’s bottom lip shakes, I know she’s more scared than I am. Being scared isn’t my job right now.

“Em,” I say, keeping my tone as even-keeled as possible. I don’t know how to have this conversation. So, I default to business. It’s my only option if I’m going to stay sane right now. “How do you know?”

“I don’t. I’m late on my period.” The words rush out. She hasn’t averted her gaze from mine, as if she’s frozen on the spot.

I nod to myself. “You were using protection?”

“Dad, I’m so sorry—”

“Were you using protection?” I repeat, closing my eyes as tight as I can.

“Y-yes,” she replies.

I open my eyes, and she’s clenching and unclenching her fists. I reach out to grab her hand, gingerly unfurling the fist with my fingers. Immediately, she entwines hers between the grooves of my own.

“Good. And, hey,” I whisper, “it’s fine. I’m not angry.”

“You aren’t?”

“No.”

How could I be? It would be hypocritical to be angry over something I did myself. I’m far from angry. I’m concerned, yes. But angry? No.

Emily swallows and amends, “Well, one time, we couldn’t find a condom and …”

I groan. “Em.”

“You said you weren’t mad!”

I could laugh at how quickly her attitude turns on. I can’t tell if she gets it from me or her mother, but then the thought of her having a tiny version of herself baking brings me back to reality.

“I’m not,” I say through an exhale. “I’m not, kiddo.”

“I … what do I do?” she asks.

What do we do?

Footsteps creak slowly up the stairwell. Emily jerks her head to the hall. Maybe it’s a guest, or maybe it’s Lisa. She’s discreet. But I know Emily wants nothing more than to keep this to herself.

Herself and Michelle.

She came to Michelle for this.

She trusted Michelle enough to have this conversation. A small piece of my punctured heart mends even a little.

A guest rounds the corner, gives us a smiling wave, which the three of us somehow manage to return, then disappears into the room at the opposite end of the hall.

“Have you taken a test?” Michelle whispers over my shoulder.

I raise my arm higher up the doorway, allowing Michelle to duck beneath and join our circle.

Emily quietly shakes her head. “No.”

“Okay,” I announce quietly, looking between Emily and Michelle.

Both their jaws are set, like they’re ready for battle.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna drive out of town and pick up a pregnancy test. And then we’re gonna try it out, okay? No reason to be scared.”

“I’m not scared,” Emily counters.

But her words don’t match her heavy breathing. It feels like yesterday that I held her in my arms with the same labored breaths between ear-splitting cries. Her arrival into this world was with kicks and screams. I know my girl. She doesn’t do anything without a little ferocity.

Michelle claps her hands together, as if to end this conversation. “All right! Em, want to help me set up the guest room next door?”

She silently nods, peering at the room behind Michelle and me. “I can help with this one too. I didn’t mean to stop you.”

Michelle shakes her head. “It’s finished. Don’t worry.”

Emily squints. “But you just said—” She swallows, and maybe she doesn’t connect the dots, or maybe she doesn’t want to right now, so she stiffly nods once more.

Michelle slides past me, gliding a small, reassuring hand along my waist as she does, and walks to the hall closet. Emily, in a distant haze, follows, but not before glancing back at me once more. I give a wan smile.

“I’ll be back,” I say.

Her lips pull up at the corners, but the smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “Thanks, Dad.”



Michelle, Emily, and I lie, arm to arm, on Michelle’s mattress. I stare at the popcorn ceiling as the fan above whirs in slow whooshes. If I stare at it too long, it looks stuck, like a broken record.

“Has it been ten minutes?” Emily murmurs.

I look at my watch. “We’ve got seven more.”

“It’s only been three minutes?”

“No, it’s two. I didn’t want you to worry.”

All three of us pull in a deep inhalation and let it out slowly. The silence in the room is sending shocks of nerves through my heart, pounding all the way down to my fingers.

Emily licks her lips. “What happens if I am … you know?”

She can’t even say the word pregnant. I remember Tracy couldn’t either when she showed me the stick with two pink lines. We were both at a loss for words.

I reach my arm up and over Emily’s head, twirling her long blond strands between my fingers.

“Then you are.” I assure her, “And you’ll be fine.”

“You won’t be mad?”