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.
"You're going to have to give us minute, Jamie," Mrs. Jacobs said, her hand still on my dad's arm. Her touch, it seemed, was the only thing keeping him in his seat. I wished we'd unloaded this on them separately. I knew they were friends and had some kind of history, but this was so deeply personal.
As if knowing my dad was beyond reason, Jamie shifted his focus to his mom.
"Mom, I know this is a lot to dump on you and I'm sorry. You told me a million times when you met dad at fifteen, you knew he was the one. And I know." Jamie paused and looked briefly at me. "Erin knows. I admit we should have been more careful, but that doesn't change how we feel about each other. I'm going to take care of her. I'm going to take care of both of them."
While Jamie's speech made my heart swell and it seemed to mollify Mrs. Jacobs, my dad appeared unmoved. He looked downright murderous.
"Dad," I said, finding my voice. "I know you're disappointed, and it's not like we planned for this to happen but it did."
"Does your mother know about this?" he asked his voice clipped.
"Yes. And she's being really great about it." I hadn't meant for it to come out sounding like an insult to him, but his belligerence wouldn't somehow make me not pregnant.
"Jamie, can I have a word with you outside," he said. It wasn't a question. It was a command.
"Dad..." I started to protest but Jamie was already on his feet.
Before following Jamie outside, my dad knelt in front of me and took one of my hands in his. "You know I love you."
"Yes." My lip trembled. I hadn't realized how much I needed to hear him say that right now.
"I'm not happy about this, but I love you."
"I know. I'm sorry." A carefully guarded tear escaped and I wiped it away. My dad kissed my forehead, and then I watched the two most important men in my life walk out onto the patio through the sliding glass doors.
Which left me alone with Mrs. Jacobs and if she'd disliked me before, I was certain she hated me now. But if Jamie could face my dad like an adult, I could do the same with his mom.
"Mrs. Jacobs, you have to know I never meant for this to happen."
She regarded me for a few uncomfortable seconds and I imagined she was seeing a somewhat scared girl, too young to be contemplating a baby and marriage. I swallowed, determined to hold together under her scrutiny. I wanted her to see me as a worthy match for her son.
"You know, babies are a rare occurrence for us, as if nature is working against us." She fingered the pearl she wore on her necklace, a far away look in her eyes. "Jamie's father and I were lucky. We tried to have more, but it never happened. He would have liked a daughter. I know I would have. Jamie's right. His father and I were married by eighteen. It's the way it works in our culture. Marry young, have babies young. So in a way, I'm not surprised."
"I love Jamie," I said. "I know my dad doesn't think I know what I'm talking about, but I do."
"I love Jamie too. When Marshall calms down, he'll remember he does as well. But you're his heart, Erin, and he wants the best life for you."
I wiped at another tear. Her acceptance, her understanding, was so far from the blame I'd expected.
We both looked up at the sound of my dad's raised voice. He and Jamie were clearly visible through the glass and I'd been trying not to strain to hear them. My dad was all up in Jamie's face. Jamie stood a head taller, his stance stoic, taking the abuse because undoubtedly he felt he deserved it. And then it was impossible not to listen my dad was yelling so loud.
"You betrayed my trust. You've screwed up my daughter's life. You've screwed up yours." My dad shoved Jamie hard enough Jamie flinched. Then, finger pointed, he said, "That baby is a mistake."
Jamie punched him. My dad's head whipped back and he stumbled, crashing into one of the patio chairs. He recovered before Mrs. Jacobs and I could spring from our seats and reach the door. My dad had barreled into Jamie, shoulder first, the beginnings of an all-out brawl.
"Jamie!" Mrs. Jacobs voice cut over the patio and with one quick thrust of his arms, Jamie shoved my dad away from him. They stared at each other both breathing heavy.
"We are not a mistake. Our baby is not a mistake." Jamie said, eyes widening as if he just realized what he'd done. He put his hands up in surrender and took a few steps backward, muscles quivering as he fought for control.
Damn these tears cascading down my cheeks. I was torn between comforting Jamie and the need to beg my dad to forgive me for letting him down. But he'd called our baby a mistake. I already loved that mistake.
Thank God for Mrs. Jacobs. She seemed to be the only one still not overcome by emotion. She walked over to where Jamie had exiled himself to the farthest edge of the patio. She grabbed his face with her hands and coaxed his eyes to hers.
"I'm sorry," he said. "The baby is not a mistake."
"I know." Mrs. Jacobs gaze, her grip on his face held firm. "But it is a consequence of a bad decision. Marshall has every right to be upset."
Jamie lifted his gaze over her head to where my dad was leaning against the patio table, using the hem of his shirt to staunch the blood dripping from his lip. "I'm sorry."
Hearing him shoulder the blame broke something in me, and despite the epic fail this had turned into, my irritation was slowly overcoming my sense of guilt.
"Really?" My voiced cracked and I wiped angrily at a tear. This wasn't about misplaced trust or disappointment. It was about me and the life I now carried. I glared at them in turn. "This is the way you want to handle this?"
Jamie walked over to me, curling his hands around my arms. I fought the impulse to succumb to the sobs trapped in my chest, feeling adrift in an ongoing current of conflicting emotions.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. His eyes were gentle and his touch was warm. He kissed me lightly on the lips. "Okay?" he asked, his voice an anchor, steadying me. He made this okay. The way he loved me made this okay. Why couldn't my dad see that?
I nodded and drew a shaky breath and faced my dad. He was staring at us, weary-eyed, utterly disconcerted. Mrs. Jacobs fussed over him, trying to get a look at his lip, but he waved her off.
"Don't worry about it, Lara," he said, still dabbing at his lip with his shirt.
"I'll get some ice." Mrs. Jacobs squeezed his shoulder before she went inside.
The sun dipped in the sky, dying the clouds pastel pink. A strained silence built between the three of us with me wedged between the wall of my dad's disillusionment and Jamie's need to defend the us he and I were trying to become.
"I really care about both of you but fighting isn't going to help," I said, relieved my voice sounded stern. "This is about me. I'm the one pregnant. I'm the one that has to deal with this, and if I can deal with it without throwing punches and yelling, so can you."
My dad sighed and dropped his chin, looking suitably dejected.
"I apologize, sir," Jamie said, his chest deflating on an expelled breath. "I was out of line."
"Yes, you were." My dad fingered his lip. "And maybe I was too, but I'm not sure I see the wisdom in compounding a mistake by making another. I don't think you two should rush into anything."
"I take exception to you calling this situation a mistake, sir," Jamie responded.
"Yeah, you made that abundantly clear." My dad looked pointedly at me. "I know how Jamie feels about all this. How do you feel? It's your life. Is marriage really what you want? Marriage is hard enough under the best of circumstances. I don't want to see you make a decision you'll regret one day."
"Yes, this is what I want," I said without hesitation.
My dad shook his head and his shoulders slumped in defeat. Mrs. Jacobs had come back with a small plastic bag of ice.
"Here," she said, pressing the bag to his lip. "This should help cool you off."
"Quit looking at me like I'm the bad guy here. Your son—" He clinched his jaw unable to finish the thought.
"This is a tough situation for all of us, but especially Erin. I think it would be nice if we all kept a level head," she said, cutting her eyes cooly at Jamie.
"Besides," she added with an odd note of affection in her tone, "I'm not saying what Jamie did was right, but that is my grand baby you're talking about."
My dad laughed and if there was little joy in the sound, there was at least the seed of acceptance. He yielded to Mrs. Jacobs ministrations for a few minutes before he approached me, eyes solemn. I went willingly into his embrace.
"I'm sorry I'm not handling this better," he whispered into my hair. "But God Erin, a baby."
"It's okay," I mumbled into his neck though it was apparent he didn't believe me and probably wouldn't for a long time. I'd disappointed him in the worst way. But worse than the disappointment, was knowing he'd never look at me the same again.
After he let me go, he squared off with Jamie, his expression hard as granite. "Excuse me if I'm not ready to shake your hand yet."
"I get that, sir. But you need to know, I love Erin. I'm going to stand by her," Jamie said, refusing to buckle under the pressure of my dad's reproach.
I loved him all the more for it. I also knew his continued temerity would only fuel may dad's disapproval. Jamie and my dad were alike in so many ways. Neither of them were likely to back down, both wanting to stand up for me in their own way. I thought the best course of action would be to give my dad some time to get used to the idea of his teenage daughter being pregnant.
"Let's walk," I said, grabbing Jamie by the wrist.
Jamie looked down at me and I thought for a second he was going to refuse, as if I were asking him to leave a battle early, asking him to retreat.
"Please," I said and the muscles of his face fell into relief and he let me lead him to the edge of the patio.
"She's my little girl, Lara."
I heard my dad say as Jamie and I made our way down the path.
Part of me, that little girl, wanted to run to him and hug him and tell him he was right. But I wasn't his little girl anymore. I was Jamie's and he was mine and our baby was proof we were meant to be.
When we were well out of earshot, Jamie laughed bitterly. "Well, that went about as well as I expected. Better actually. Thank God he wasn't wearing his gun."
We reached the open beach and Jamie seemed to relax further with the breeze blowing around us. He took a deep shuddering breath. "I shouldn't have hit him."
"No, you shouldn't have."
"He was right. I took advantage of his trust. But I won't let anyone talk about you or our baby like that, as though we're a mistake. Not even your dad."
"I'm just glad that's over." I caved to my desire to sink into his chest and breath him in for a few seconds.
Jamie pressed his lips into the top of my head. "Now that it is over, when do you want to get married?"
"Who's getting married?" Noah's voice cut through the dark.
Loathe to leave the protection of Jamie's arms, I turned my head to see Noah jogging toward us, his blond head bobbing in the moonlight. "You tell him," I said, burying my face in Jamie's shirt.
"Tell me what?"