"This is bad," I say while I pace the living room in my dad's house.
While the men all work on the house and constantly walking at the house, I stayed inside with Remi and Sierra. Anthony took Aria outside because she was only scared of the banging when she couldn't see what was going on.
"It's not that bad," Sierra says with a quick glance at Remi, who agrees with her.
"You're telling them and that's what matters."
"Then I have dinner with his mom," I face palm.
"You're getting bigger," Sierra turns her head to the side. I follow her eyes to my stomach.
"Through my shirt?" I have on a classic t-shirt, it wasn't too big or small.
"Yeah, you're starting to show," Remi nods.
"No more bloating," I mumble. I guess this is the real deal, I'm getting a bump.
The plan is to wait till they come in for a break and then I'll break the news. Other than that I'm winging it.
I sigh irritably. "I have to pee."
I go through the kitchen and then to the back hallway and close the door. My urine sounds like a waterfall nowadays, and it takes me a while. It's actually embarrassing in public restrooms.
I hear the back door slide open and my dad's goofy laugh.
Alright, it's go time.
I wash my hands so I can hurry and catch them. They all stand in the living room, each drinking a bottle of water. Aria smiles when she sees me, and I take her from her dad.
I wait until they are done talking with Sierra about whatever to bring up my topic.
"I have so to tell you guys," I sit between Remi and Sierra. Sierra smiles and Remi turns her knees to me.
"Okay..." my dad looks at my brothers, "this sounds serious."
"And if Sonny's being serious, then Hell must've froze over," Cole muttered, earning a pillow getting chucked at him by Anthony.
"What is it, Sonny?" My dad ignores my brother and looks at me with the most utter concern.
I just stare at him like his pale eyes are putting me in a trance. Deep down, I hope I won't be a disappointment to him.
Sierra bumps my knee and I finally snap out of it. "Uh..." my eyes flutter, and I shake my head to get my words out, "I know this really isn't the right way to do this. It was really irresponsible of me, but I guess this is what it took for me to stop acting off impulse. And the choice I've made was well thought about, regardless to the...other party. My career is where I want it to be and I can support this decision."
He nods his head, I look at my brothers and they seem to realize how heavy the topic is.
"I am...expecting," I cringe at my words.
They all look at each other. "Expecting what? You lost me, Sonny," Cole frowns with a side eye.
"A...little person," I sound so dumb that I frown and facepalm.
"It's not a bad word, Sonny," Sierra whispered softly.
"Wait, she knows?" Anthony furrowed his brows as he pointed at her.
I rolled my eyes. "Yes, but only because she figured it out a while ago."
"Since the dinner at her place," she takes the opportunity to be childish and stick out her tongue, Anthony does it back.
"Anyways," I snicker at them, "what I'm trying to say is...I'm pregnant."
All of their reactions are the same: wide eyes and dropped jaws.
"You- you're pregnant?" Anthony mocks my words.
I nod and wait for them to hit me with how irresponsible I am, but it never comes. Dad just nods and scratches his head. "Okay, well you are an adult. You have your own place, a stable job. A-are you going to keep it?"
"Yeah, fill us in." Anthony urges.
"I'm 16 weeks, I'm due in June, me and the father will co parent."
"Okay, so you two have talk about this?" My dad asks.
"Yes, I told him before the first appointment. We went together and I let him think about what he wanted to do as far as raising the baby. He called the other day and we kind of set some things in place for when the baby comes."
"Is this guy a asshole or is he cool?" Cole stretched his legs out on the floor.
"First of all...," Anthony stopped him with his hand, "congratulations, Sonny. We're happy for you, seriously." He grinned kindly.
I put my hands in my lap. "Thanks."
"But Cole's right," Sierra said, "do we get to meet this guy anytime soon?"
"Some time soon, just give us time. He a working business man or something. I'm actually supposed to be having dinner with his mom."
My dad perks up. "Business man?"
"He owns a club," I look at my brothers, Cole specifically, "you ever heard of Apex?"
"That guy owns Apex?" Cole looks to be impressed already. "Oh yeah, lock him down, sis."
I roll my eyes and look around at them with so much appreciation. "Thank you guys for being okay with all of this..."
"Well what did think we were going to say?" My dad chuckles.
My eyes began to blur and I quickly wipe them. "Ugh, now I'm crying."
Sierra runs my back. "It's okay, it's the hormones. It doesn't count, we know you can't help it."
~
Me: What restaurant are we eating at again?
I sent that test over forty five minutes and still nothing. I was half dressed in my long sleeve knitted dress. It was so tight and fitted, it showed off my curves and even my small bump. My hair was slicked back into a low ponytail. The black knee-high boots I intended to wear were on the floor, near my bed.
I stacked my necklaces, rings, and bracelets. My phone began vibrating, turning off my music that played softly on my speaker.
"Hello?"
"Send me your address," I pull the phone back at the deep voice in my ear and see it was Warren who called. He sounds different over the phone.
"Good evening," I put the phone down and put him on speaker.
"Come on, Dawson. I'm about to be on my way."
"To what, get me?" I frown at the phone. We never spoke about that.
"No shit," he grumbles.
"You have a filthy mouth," I tell him, "I'll text it to you."
I hang up the phone and send him what he asked. I pack my black wristlet and put it on the bed as well as my black trench coat.
For my makeup, I just put on some liner with lipgloss and mascara.
While I wait, I hold a Michael Bublé concert and sing with my broom. I even go far by putting on socks and sliding across my floor.
The music goes out for a second, that's probably Warren telling me he's here. I put on my boots and zip them up, put on my coat and make sure my hair is okay.
When I get in the street, I look around for Warren. He is leaning against his car, but not any car. It's a black Camaro with dark tinted windows.
As I approach him, he opens the passenger door. I mumble a thank you and watch as he closes the door and goes around.
Tonight he has no jacket, just a white shirt and grey vest. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and I get to see his his forearm filled with ink. When he gets in, I look down at my lap.
His car smells like...him. It's very masculine, and rich. I can't put a finger on what it is exactly, but moral of the story: it smells good.
"What is your mom like?" I remember to put put my seatbelt on when he does.
He let out a breath of air. "You two will get along perfectly."
I poke my lip out, looking at him suspiciously. "Okay, cause that's kind of back handed. So let me ask you this-"
"Please don't," he grumbled, my face went blank as I stared at him.
"Last one, then I'll stop talk," then I remembered something else, "no, I'm lying second to last then I'll stop. Do you and you and your mom get along? Cause that will tell me how I should take what you just said."
He shrugged, not interested in what I was saying. "You two are just... similar in some ways."
"Hm," I looked at the window. The car was going so fast that the cars were blurry as we passed them. I guess I'll see when we get there, so I moved on. "My last question is where are we eating?"
"I don't know, my mother picked."
Giving up on making any conversation with him, I relaxed, or tried to, cause he was going so damn fast.
But we were parking outside the restaurant in no time. I didn't recognize it at all, but I felt properly dressed even though my clothes weren't name brand like Warren and other people's clothes.
Classical music played through the speakers and soft chatter was being held at tables. "Good Evening, how many?" The man asked when we walked in.
"Reservations under De Santis," Warren tells him.
"De Santis? Right this way then."
The man begins to lead us, and Warren looks back at me to make sure I'm behind him. I'm surprised when he opens his arm to let me go in front of him after the weird attitude he just had, his hand rests on my back for only a second.
Warren's mom sits at the table, I know it's her because she is alone, looking at the small, but fancy, watch on her wrist.
Her light brown hair is in a clamp with curls falling from it. I can see she is wearing a long grey skirt and a white blouse with a shaul around her shoulders.
She must have senced us, she looked up and I was surprised at how much Warren looked like his mother. She smiled and she looked even more beautiful.
"There he is," she put her hands up and held Warren's face to place a kiss on his cheek to his dismay.
He wrapped an arm around her before pulling away. Her soft brown eyes landed on me and she locked her fingers together.
"Mom, this is Dawson," he cleared his throat.
"Warren didn't do a good job at saying how beautiful you are," she gasped. Her eyes dropped to my stomach, "and my grand baby!"
She pulled me into a hug that made me stop breathing for three seconds. "Mom, don't kill her," Warren pulled her off, making me laugh.
"Oh, hush," she waved him off, "it's nice to met you, Dear. I'm Josie."
I smiled more comfortably now. "Nice to meet you, too."
"Come on, let's sit," she giggled, "I hope you two don't mind. I ordered already but I just asked them to bring it out when the other meals come."
Her brown eyes looked between the both of us, looking for any sign that we were bothered. "It's fine, mom," Warren pulled my chair out for me.
"Thanks," I smiled, taking off my coat.
Warren sat on the side of me, and as he fixed his sleeves I seen the light mark of lipstick on his cheek.
"There's lipstick," I stifled my laugh, pointing a finger at his face.
He rubbed his face but he didn't get it. "Still there," I shook my head, Josie chuckled at her son.
I took his hand and put it where the mark was. "There."
He dragged his hand down his chin and frowned in frustration. "Okay, it's gone." Me and Josie shared a smile.
"Tell me about yourself, Dawson," Josie leaned in, "I want to know everything."
"Uh," I grimaced, "can you ask questions? I'm not so good with plain introductions."
"Okay, let's start off easy," she giggled, "how old are you?"