"I don't think I heard you clearly," my mom declares. "I think I heard you say you were pregnant."
"I did ma, I am pregnant!" I yell back at her.
"Kisa?" She asks. Her face expression was a mixture of surprise, and disappointment.
"Ma, I know you're not happy about it, but I am," I tell her. I think it's about time I told her the truth. She'll just have to learn how to live with it whether she likes it or not.
"Marie, who said I was not happy about it?" She asks coming closer.
"Um... you," My sister answers before I even have a chance to answer. "Ma, you spent our whole lives telling us that getting pregnant while unmarried is wrong," she adds.
"Guys, do I like it? No, but I am happy, I'm going to be a grandmother for Christ's sake," she says giving me a big hug. Okay, this is way different than what I was expecting. I thought she was going to have a heart attack when I told her. I thought she was going to storm out and never talk to me again. "Marie, it doesn't matter if you're married or not as long as you're happy," she pulls away touching my face.
"But I thought you said-"
"Forget what I said sweetheart, I just want you guys to marry because you need someone to take care of you."
"Ma, we can take care of ourselves," my sister snaps back at her. If it's one thing my sister hates most is when my mother says she needs a husband to take care of her.
"I know you can, you guys have grown into beautiful young ladies, you guys stayed in school and you guys can take care of yourselves. That's a mother's number one wish, but I just want you guys to know its okay to let someone else take care of you, it's okay to let someone love you. If you don't who are you going to grow old with? Who are you going to sit on the front porch with and watch your grand kids play?"
"It's okay to love," she says to the both of us. "If the person you love is Haitian it's even better," now she ruined it.
"Ma," I start. I hate when she says that. I grew up with Haitians; I seriously do not need another Haitian in my life.
"I know," she says raising her hands up in defense, "sorry, you can love who you want," she adds.
"Thanks ma," I say giving her a hug. And here I was about to lie to her, I just misunderstood her.
"Now get yourself inside, it's hot," she says fanning herself with her hand. She then walks inside the house. My sister and brother follow after her. I turn to see if Dylan is there and he isn't there.
"He left," Esther says answering the question that was going through my head. He couldn't have left, I drove him here, and how is he going to get home? He probably slip through during all this discussion.
I walk towards the parking lot area to see him standing there scrolling through his phone. "What are you doing?" I ask him walking up to him.
"Waiting for my Uber?" He answers looking up from his phone.
"What?" I inquire. I didn't want him to leave; I don't want him to spend Thanksgiving alone.
"Uber is a tax-"he starts to tell me what an Uber is.
"I know what an Uber is; my question is why are you waiting for an Uber?"
"Because we drove here with your car," he informs me.
"I know that, you know what I'm asking," I tell him.
"I told you I had work to do,"he lies. I know he has no work to do; he just wants an excuse to leave.
"You know that's not true," I tell him.
"Does it matter why I want to leave? I just want to go home," he says going back to scrolling in his phone. I stand there just staring at him.
"You know you can stay right?" I wanted to make sure he knows he can stay if he wants.
"My Uber is here," he says as a car pull up in the parking lot. "I'll check on you later."
"You're being ridiculous," I say walking after him. I know he doesn't like my family, but it doesn't mean he has to run whenever they are around.
"Goodbye Marie-Anne," he says getting in the car. I watch as he closes the door, and the car drives away.
I sigh and walk back inside, "everything okay?" My brother asks as I enter the door.
"Yeah," I lie.
"So, I guess you guys are back together?" He asks me.
"Who?" I ask him.
"You and white boy," he says. There he goes with his racist comments; I don't know why he can't call someone by their name.
"We're not," I answer him.
"So, is he the father?" He asks. I walk to my room sitting down on my bed. He follows after, doing the same next to me.
"Does it matter?" I ask him. I don't want to talk about who's the father or how it happened and I know that's exactly what everyone's going to be asking me. My mom will want to know who the father is and my sister will want to hear the story of how it happened.
"I think it does," Marven says. "You should move back home," he adds. I turn and look at him, right now the idea doesn't sound bad. I miss them so much and I don't enjoy being far from them, but I have a whole life here. I don't have friends; however I do have a job.
"Marv, my whole life is here," I tell him.
"I know that, but if you're back home, the baby can grow around family and you'll have people to babysit when you are busy." He couldn't be more right, it would be nice if my mom was around. She would help me through this crazy pregnancy and help me with raising this kid.
"Yeah," I say leaning my head on his shoulder thinking about the options.
Moving back home would be good, but what about Dylan?
Hope you enjoyed...
YOU ARE READING
Still Only You(BWWM)✔ChickLit
Highest Rank: #53 in ChickLit Sequel to 'You, And Only You' (Can be read alone, but I strongly advise reading the first one.) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "What happened to us Marie-Anne, how did we get here?" I ask her. "I chos...