When her mother reached them she stood close and looked directly at Ashleigh. Moira lowered her voice, in tune with Ashleigh’s thinking that while it was too late to play out this scene elsewhere, they could aim for a modicum of privacy.
“Only thing I want to know sweetheart is, are you happy?”
Ashleigh looked up at Paul. The anger, or whatever harsh emotion had been brewing in his eyes, was gone, replaced by something softer, but no less intent. He smiled, that bright, wide, unreserved smile, and she knew unequivocally that she’d made her choice. She turned to face her mama.
“Yes, I’m happy.”
For a long moment, Moira’s face didn’t change at all. And then it split into a broad grin before she yelled, “I’M GONNA BE A GRANDMA!”
Ashleigh couldn’t be certain, but she thought maybe they’d heard that shout three parishes over.
An ecstatic pandemonium broke out around the room. Immediately Moira came in to hug her and as much as she didn’t want to let Paul go, Ashleigh did so to return her mother’s embrace. Before her mother let her go, only to be replaced by an equally delighted Dolly, they had been surrounded by just about everyone in the room. She was hugged by so many people so close together that she began to get a little lightheaded. She must have looked visibly woozy because Paul shook off the bro-hugs and back slaps to wrap his arm firmly around her and pull her into his side.
The crowd parted a little, and her father made his way to the fore. Ashleigh felt inexplicably nervous. Her daddy seemed as happy as everyone else, and it wasn’t like he didn’t know she wasn’t a virgin. Hell, she’d been married for years, and he’d almost walked right in on her and Paul, but somehow, revealing the physical consequences of her having sex made her feel all of about ten years old. Her daddy was smiling, but his lips had an odd twist to them, and she’d have bet anything that he was imagining her in her jeans and scruffy t-shirt with her hair all wild, the way she used to look before she discovered fashion and makeup and when she was more interested in racing Dean to see who could climb to the top of a tree first.
Her daddy didn’t say anything to her, just put his palm on her back and leaned in and kissed the top of her head. But when he stood back he looked at Paul and something of the humorous light in his eyes was gone.
“You treat her right, you hear?”
“Yes sir.”
Ashleigh heard the fatherly threat in her daddy’s voice. It might have been funny coming from any other father, but coming from hers it was deadly serious. She knew Paul knew that too.
Paul spoke up, addressing the room. “In fact, if y’all don’t mind. I’m goin’ to start right now by takin’ her home to get some rest.”
“Rest my ass!” That shout had come from Dolly and Ashleigh couldn’t help but blush; she was probably, certainly, right.
She was saved from answering by Paul beginning to steer her out of the room. Her parents were smiling indulgently, her father’s arms around her mother’s shoulders. The club was arrayed around them and Ashleigh thought that she’d never have a clearer picture in her mind of just who her family was.
She began to feel much more like herself as soon as she was able to take a deep breath of the warm but clear night air.
“So, beauty. Your place or mine?”
“Yours. But I’m driving. I’m not getting’ on the back of your bike in this dress.”
“Damn right you’re not. Go on. I’ll follow you.”
Paul went to kiss her, but Ashleigh skipped away towards her car, as best she was able to in the shoes she was wearing on the gravel. “Nuh huh. Save it ‘til you can make it count.”
“You are gonna pay for that.” He promised, pointing a finger at her as he walked towards his bike.
Ashleigh couldn’t keep the grin from her face during the drive to Paul’s house. She felt a sense of rightness, that a weight had been lifted. Whenever she got that feeling she knew she’d made the right decision about something. She was still plenty apprehensive about what the future held, but she didn’t doubt she’d made the right choice for its beginning.
She was still grinning when she pulled up outside Paul’s home, although it faltered a little bit when he swung off his bike, having pulled up immediately after her, and started stalking towards her. There was no other word for it, she felt like prey. Deciding that she’d rather not be caught at the bottom of the porch steps, she tripped up them and then halted at the door that she didn’t have the key to.