Summer's Last Breath

Part 31

We decided to wait a week before telling our parents about the pregnancy. I wouldn't risk waiting any longer. Ally was my best girlfriend, but that didn't mean I trusted her to sit on that bit of juicy gossip forever.

My dad and Jamie's mom sat on the couch in the Jacobs's living room, wearing matching expressions of suppressed apprehension. I imagined Jamie's dad sitting in the space between them, wondering what he would think of me.

They had to know, or at least suspect, what we were about to say. Of all the scenario's running through their minds of why would we call them here together, pregnancy had to be one of them. Even knowing that, this was turning out to be harder than I thought it would be. Telling my mom had almost been like telling my best friend.

Admitting what we'd done to my dad was a different matter. He'd fought to keep me his little girl long after my mom had known differently. He'd gone against his better judgment and given me permission to see Jamie. And here we were about to tell him I was pregnant. He would totally freak. I suddenly wished I could take it all back. I'd thought I was prepared to handle his disappointment, but as I watched him try to brace himself for the impending doom he had to know was coming, I knew I wasn't. I should've taken my mom up on her offer to be here and act as a buffer.

As though sensing my distress, Jamie reached over from his seat next to mine and took my hand, cradling it in his. His firm touch lent me just enough strength to keep me from bolting out of my chair.

"Jamie, what's going on?" Mrs. Jacobs's gaze jumped between us, her eyes billowing with dread.

My dad appeared deceptively calm. His left hand rested casually on his thigh. His right arm stretched across the back of the couch. To anyone who didn't know him, he seemed as relaxed as a house cat. But I knew him. I knew what the speculative gleam in his eyes meant. I knew what the subtle twitch of the index finger of his left hand signaled. He expected the worst and he was going to get it.

"Erin and I are getting married," Jamie said. "We're having a baby."

Jamie tried his best to deliver the news as though it were cause for celebration, as though the timing of it were perfect, as though I weren't only sixteen.

My dad's gaze honed in on Jamie with laser beam focus. He leaned forward almost in slow motion, a slow swell of fury rising from the cushions and I thought, this was it. He would explode all over Jamie and one of them was going to get hurt. "You're fucking kidding me."

"No, sir. Erin's pregnant," Jamie said, unfazed by the impending tsunami that was my dad. "I've asked her to marry me, and she said yes."

I was so proud of Jamie, of his calm rational tenor, the way he held my dad's stare, not backing down from the challenge in his eyes, issuing one of his own.

"Sonofabitch." My dad's hand bunched into a fist and a shudder stole down his arm. And the look on his face—the shock, the anger coloring his cheeks—tore at something inside me.

Tears pricked the backs of my eyes. I'd never seen my dad on the verge of totally losing control. And it was because of me. For the first time since I'd read the results of the pregnancy test, I felt ashamed.

Mrs. Jacobs reached over and laid her hand on my dad's forearm. "Marshall."

He turned his head at the sound of her voice and when their eyes met, the weirdest thing happened. Something I couldn't define passed between them. My dad relaxed slightly, but the muscle in his jaw still ticked. Her eyes welled up, round and imploring, and my dad let out a ragged breath that might have been a growl, before turning his head back around. He skipped looking at me. His incensed glare was purely for Jamie.