“What did you say?” My mother was clearly nervous.
“I said I never wanted to stay in one place or settle down. I said I wasn’t sure I ever wanted a family, and that being stuck with one person for the rest of my life sounded boring.”
“Gee, can’t imagine why she panicked when she realized she was pregnant,” muttered my mom, picking up her coffee cup.
“Look, I know!” I jumped up and started pacing. “It was just a bunch of immature bullshit I said because I didn’t know then what would happen or how I’d feel about her. When we got back from the motel, I couldn’t stop thinking about her, but I didn’t know how to handle it. Then all of a sudden she was pregnant, and any time I tried to tell her how I felt, she just accused me of pitying her.” I stopped moving. “Also, I’m not the best at saying how I feel so I’m not sure things came out right.”
“Safe to say they didn’t,” my dad remarked.
I started pacing again. “Anyway, I finally came right out and said, ‘What about us?’ And you know what she said?” I turned to look at them. “She said, ‘There is no us. There’s never been an us.’”
“Okay,” my mom said, tapping her lips with one finger. “So you need to show her two things. One, that you didn’t mean what you said about never wanting to stay in one place and have a family—or that you’ve changed your mind. And two, that she matters to you, baby or not.”
“But the baby matters too,” I insisted. “I want to show her I’ll be a good father.”
“Be a good man first,” said my dad. “The rest will follow.”
I sat down again. “If I just announce that I’m not doing the show and staying here, it won’t be enough. She won’t like it.”
“I agree,” my mom said. “You’ll need to work a little harder to show her that it’s not just about obligation. And it might take some time, Gianni. Maybe not years, but you have to be patient while you earn her trust.”
“I will,” I promised.
She sighed. “You know what I was looking at the other day? The photo album from that first summer we moved up here. You were what, like five?”
I stared at her. “You have photos from back then? Of Ellie and me?”
“Of course.” She got up and went into the family room, returning with several albums. “I’ve got a ton of them.”
I opened one up and started leafing through, smiling at old pictures of family vacations and holidays and birthdays. Mostly the photos were of my siblings and me, but there were plenty with the Fournier kids too, since we were together so much.
Sledding in winter. Running through the sprinkler during the summer. Standing side by side—and not looking too happy about it—on the first day of school. As the years went by, our appearances changed—I grew taller, Ellie’s hair grew longer—but in picture after picture, there we were, side by side, growing up together.
The final photo I found of us had been taken at our high school graduation. We’re wearing our navy blue gowns, and I’m standing behind Ellie with both arms around her neck like I might choke her. The grin on my face is a mile wide, and she’s tugging on my forearms like she wants to escape—but she’s laughing, her face radiantly beautiful and her eyes bright.
Was that only five years ago? We’d come such a long way together.
It gave me an idea.
TWENTY-TWO
ELLIE
It had been a week since the ultrasound.
A week since Gianni and I had held hands and listened to our baby’s heartbeat together. A week since I’d foolishly let my hopes rise once more.
He’d seemed so moved by the experience, and I’d felt so close to him. I thought for sure he’d say something on the ride home, or want to talk when we got there. But he’d said nothing, so I’d said nothing, and I was left wondering if I’d imagined the connection in the doctor’s office.
But every morning, he continued to bring me breakfast from Plum & Honey, sometimes scones, sometimes a cinnamon bun, sometimes an apple crumble muffin—all things Winnie’s mom knew I loved. Sometimes I was too queasy to eat them, but I always appreciated the gesture. He’d stay long enough to ask how I was feeling, how things were going for me, and for the first time, I felt like he listened to my answers. He often followed up on things I’d said the day before, which made me feel like he’d been thinking about me. One afternoon I came back from lunch to find a jar of peanut butter, a bag of M&M’s, and a spoon on my desk, and it made me laugh.