Diana wouldn’t be where she was without her mother. And…she needed her. So much.
Stepping out of the shower, Diana dried off, catching her reflection in the bathroom mirror.
Dropping the towel, she inspected myself. As of yet, she couldn’t see any external changes to her body; she was already round of hips and belly, and her breasts always looked swollen—thanks to her forty-two double Ds. Entranced, she placed her hand just over her belly button.
Beneath her fingers a little person was growing.
A little person whom she would love, support, and cherish for the rest of her life. That thought was a heady one, making bursts of color and sensation flash before her eyes before they exploded in her chest, carrying with them the tiniest ray of hope.
Hope that it would all be alright.
Diana smiled, her heart thudding. She knew she should be more scared than she was—hell, she was staring down a lifetime of late nights, endless worries, and struggling bank accounts, but she was…how could she explain it? Excited. But still a whole lot terrified.
Staring at the area of soft skin just above the thatch of blonde pubic hairs, she rubbed her belly, her gaze riveted.
A knock on her bathroom door made her jump, she grabbed for her towel, hastily throwing it over her front to hide her nakedness. She knew she was being ridiculous; no one could tell just by looking that she was pregnant. Still…the panic was there.
“Yeah?” Diana called, her voice tight.
Her mother’s voice came through the door.
“Margie’s here. I made her some coffee because she brought chocolate croissants.”
Diana fought the urge to roll her eyes because she knew why the woman was there, and Diana knew she was only pushing her because she thought Diana needed the push.
“I’ll be out in a few,” Diana called back, glancing at her reflection one last time before she relieved her bladder—something she knew would only get worse over the next several months, and when she opened the bathroom door her bedroom was empty.
Dressing in her favorite sweatpants (okay, so they were all her favorite!), a sports bra, and a loose pink t-shirt, she headed downstairs to face her best friend…and her mother. Thankfully, Deidre had stayed on campus that weekend to attend a financial stewardship conference by some money guru.
At the bottom of the stairs, the scent of dark chocolate and buttery croissant hit her nose. Damn! Her heightened mommy senses were already kicking in—one of the many changes her body would undergo over the next thirty-six weeks. That could be good or bad—but in that instance, it was more than good.
“Girl, I hope you brought enough for you to have one, because I am hungry, and I don’t plan to share!” she announced as she stepped into the small kitchen, which hadn’t been remodeled since the 1990s.
Her smile died on her face and her thoughts shrieked to a stop.
Oh, no!
Diana’s mother was holding the What to Expect book in her hands, her wounded, disappointed, shocked gaze dropping to Diana’s belly. Oh, God. She must’ve seen it on Diana’s bed where she’d left it earlier that morning. Why hadn’t she thought to hide it?
Why should I hide it? I’m not ashamed of this baby! Moreover, she was a grown ass woman. She didn’t need her mother’s approval…even though she really wanted it. Her mother was her hero, the one Diana had wanted to emulate the whole of her life, and now…
“Diana…” Her name came out like a whispered admonition.
Diana watched her mother glance down at the book again as if she couldn’t believe what she was holding. The tears hit her then, filling Diana’s eyes and then welling over.
“Oh, Momma,” she cried, and in the next moment, she was in her mother’s arms.
She didn’t know how long she stood there, sobbing into her mom’s shoulder, but the next thing she knew, she was sitting at the little dinette table, a glass of milk and a chocolate croissant sitting before her.
Margie, silent the whole time, sat on one chair, and Diana’s mom took the chair right next to her. Taking Diana’s trembling hands into hers, she squeezed, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
“Tell me what’s going on, honey,” she implored softly.
And so, she did.
She told her about meeting David Brenner in the office and then again in the hotel. She skipped all the more gratuitous details, but she did tell her how she left while he was still sleeping, and how he had left the next morning on a business trip. She told her how she never expected to see him again, and then she told her about the doctor’s appointment, the blood tests, and then she told her about discovering she was pregnant.
“Have you told David yet?” she asked after listening to the whole recounting.
Diana shuddered, sucking in a breath.
“I can’t,” she blubbered.
Her mom narrowed her eyes at her. “And why the hell not? He’s the father, he has as much responsibility as you do.”
Finally, Margie spoke, reaching across the table to put a hand on Diana’s arm.
“Betty…there is a complication.”
Diana’s mom didn’t bother glancing in Margie’s direction, her attention fixed totally on Diana.
“What complication?”
Margie answered for her. “She thinks he won’t believe her because they used protection.”
Snorting, Betty rolled her eyes. “I might not have used condoms all those times I had sex with your father–” Diana cringed– “Don’t look at me like that. How else did you think you or your sister got here?” Diana shrugged, refusing to think on it. “As I
