“Yeah,” she says. “It’s unexpected of course. Especially finding out so soon after moving here. But we’ve had a couple of days to let it sink in now. We’re actually excited.”
My eyes well up with tears but I’m not sure why I feel like crying. This is good. She’s excited. “Ava,” I whisper. “That’s . . . wow.”
“I know. You’re going to be an aunt. I mean, I know you already are because of Graham’s sister’s children, but I just never thought you’d be an aunt because of me.”
I force a smile but realize it isn’t enough, so I force a laugh. “Your mother is going to be a grandma.”
“That’s the craziest part,” she says. “She didn’t know how to take the news. She’s either drowning in martinis today or out shopping for baby clothes.”
I swallow down the immediate envy, knowing my mother knew before I did. “You . . . you told her already?”
Ava releases a sigh full of regret. “Yesterday. I would have told you first but . . . I wanted Mom’s advice. On how to tell you.”
I lean my head back against the couch. She was scared to tell me? Does she think I’m that unstable? “Did you think I’d be jealous of you?”
“No,” she says immediately. “I don’t know, Quinn. Upset, maybe? Disappointed?”
Another tear falls, but this time it isn’t a tear of joy. I quickly wipe it away. “You know me better than that.” I stand up in an attempt to compose myself, even though she can’t see me. “I have to go. Congratulations.”
“Quinn.”
I end the call and stare down at my phone. How could my own sister think I wouldn’t be happy for her? She’s my best friend. I’m happy for her and Reid. I’d never resent her for being able to have children. The only thing I resent is that she conceived so easily by accident.
Oh, God. I’m a terrible person.
No matter how much I’m trying to deny it, I do feel resentment. And I hung up on her. This should be one of the best moments of her life, but she loves me too much to be fully excited about it. And I’m being too selfish to allow that.
I immediately call her back.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out as soon as she answers.
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. You’re right. I’m grateful that you were trying to be sensitive to what Graham and I are going through, but really, Ava. I am so happy for you and Reid. And I’m excited to be an aunt again.”
I can hear the relief in her voice when she says, “Thank you, Quinn.”
“There is one thing, though.”
“What?”
“You told your mother first? I will never forgive you for that.”
Ava laughs. “I regretted it as soon as I told her. She actually said, ‘But will you raise it in Europe? It’ll have an accent!’？”
“Oh, God help us.”
We both laugh.
“I have to name a human, Quinn. I hope you help me because Reid and I are never going to agree on a name.”
We chat a little longer. I ask her the typical questions. How she found out. Routine doctor’s visit. When she’s due. April. When they’ll find out what they’re having. They want it to be a surprise.
When the conversation comes to an end, Ava says, “Before you hang up . . .” She pauses. “Have you heard back from the last adoption agency you applied to?”
I stand up to walk toward the kitchen. I’m suddenly thirsty. “I have,” I tell her. I grab a water out of the refrigerator, take the cap off, and bring it to my mouth.
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“It is what it is,” I say. “I can’t change Graham’s past and he can’t change my present. No point in dwelling on it.”
It’s quiet on Ava’s end of the line for a moment. “But what if you can find a baby through private adoption?”
“With what money?”
“Ask your mother for the money.”
“This isn’t a purse, Ava. I’m not letting your mother buy me a human. I’d be indebted to her for eternity.” I look at the door just as Graham walks into the living room. “I have to go. I love you. Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” she says. “Love you, too.”
I end the call just as Graham’s lips meet my cheek. “Ava?” He reaches for my water and takes a drink.
I nod. “Yep. She’s pregnant.”