Rm w/a Vu(117)

“Well, come in, you two!” Jocelyn exclaims. “Let’s get dinner on the table before your fathers get grouchy.”

While Greyston carves and plates the turkey, I take my place beside him and begin mashing the potatoes, and Mom and Jocelyn are at the stove working on the gravy and vegetables. When all is said and done, Greyston and I extend the kitchen table so we can put the food on it while Mom goes to the living room to tell everyone else that dinner is served.

“Dinner smells amazing,” Dad praises, finding his seat.

Nodding, Daniel is quick to agree. “I’ll say. You ladies outdid yourselves.”

With everyone at the table dishing up, I grab the wine from the counter and bring it over to fill everyone’s glasses. I start with Greyston’s and work my way clockwise around the table. After filling Dad’s glass, I reach between him and Mom for hers, but before I can grab the stem, she holds her hand out and stops me.

“Oh, none for me, honey. Thank you,” she says softly, glancing up at me.

While her turning down a glass of wine isn’t exactly unheard of, I still find myself a little stunned; family dinners are the only time she really ever drinks.

“What?” I ask, momentarily thinking I misheard her. “Sorry, did you want white? We have white.”

Something flashes in her eyes, and it takes me a second to recognize it as apprehension. She shakes her head, dropping her gaze from me, and turns back to the table. “No. No wine for me today, thank you.”

My confusion grows, and I look around the room. Dad’s eyes are on his plate, his posture rigid and his hands flat on the table. Jocelyn and Daniel look at me, their expressions telling me they don’t know anything. Gran avoids my gaze also, and Greyston’s eyes are wide with what looks like realization.

Every thought that something might be wrong with her suddenly dissipates, and all the pieces come together in my mind like a jigsaw puzzle: getting teary-eyed over my gift to her, being emotional about us having everybody together for Christmas, and now her refusal to drink.

“Holy shit,” I blurt out, not thinking clearly enough to harness the profanity in front of my parents or Gran. “You’re pregnant.”

Mom’s silence is answer enough. Nobody else in the room says a word, instead choosing to look at anything but me as I absorb this news. While I’m relieved that she doesn’t have some terminal illness, the fact remains that my forty-four-year-old mother is pregnant. I may not be a doctor, but even I know that she’s no longer in her prime child-bearing years, and that this pregnancy might very-well be more difficult than when she was in her twenties. But, on the flip side, I’m going to have a little brother or sister.

“Sweetheart?” Greyston’s voice breaks through to me, and I turn to look at him, my lips slowly twisting up into a smile.

“You’re right,” Mom confesses, pushing her chair away from the table. “We wanted to wait to tell you until you came back from your vacation and we’d had our first ultrasound done, but yes, Dr. Lundstrum confirmed that we’re expecting.” Pausing, she gauges my reaction to hearing this. “Are you…okay?”

Nodding, I hand the wine bottle to Greyston and pull my mom into my arms. “Of course! I mean, I’m still a little shocked, but if you’re happy, then I’m happy.”

Congratulations fill the room as I hug both of my parents. I feel silly thinking that anything was wrong with my mom, and I feel much more relaxed now that I know the truth behind her odd behavior.

We all take our seats around the table and begin dishing up, and Mom leans over and kisses my dad. It’s the first time I’m not even a little repulsed by their PDA. In fact, it’s comforting to see just how in love they are after all these years. It’s something I never really thought about before, but I aspire for it in my own relationship. Almost as though he can read my mind, Greyston’s hand finds mine beneath the table, and he squeezes it lightly, shooting me a brilliant smile when I bring my eyes to his.

After dinner, everyone lends a hand in the clean up, and once the kitchen is clean, they decide to call it a night. Greyston and I walk them to the door, hugging each of them as they prepare to leave.

“You make sure you call me the minute your plane lands,” Mom whispers into my ear as she hugs me tightly.

“Yes, Mom,” I assure her. “Congratulations again, and you take care of yourself, okay?”

“I’ll make sure of it, kiddo,” Dad assures me.

After hugging Mom, I prepare to say goodbye to Gran. She pulls me into her tightest embrace, and I feel a little emotional; saying goodbye to her is always difficult given how close we’ve always been. “Thanks for being so awesome about everything, Gran,” I tell her. “It was so good to see you again.”