We met my parents in the restaurant in the hotel lobby. As soon as we walked in, my father reached into one of the seats at the table and pulled out a massive teddy bear. He held it out to me, and I took it, feeling tears stinging in my eyes again. That was something I figured I was also going to have to get used to. Pregnancy was making me much more emotional.
But this was more than just the pregnancy. When I first found out I was pregnant, I didn’t even know if I would tell them. Since we weren’t on speaking terms, it didn’t seem like the first conversation that I should attempt to have with them. If I should have it at all. I didn’t know if I wanted to share it with them.
In my mind, there was no chance they would take it well. They knew I had gotten married and hadn’t been happy about it. Throwing an unexpected baby into the mix was something I figured they would be furious about. To them, it would just be another insult, another way I had embarrassed them.
Now they were standing in front of me, smiling, handing me the first gift I received for my baby.
“We want you to know how excited we are,” my mother said. “Our first grandchild is something we didn’t know if we would ever have. We are so looking forward to meeting the baby when it comes.”
“Thank you,” I said. “That means a lot to me.”
My father gestured for us to join them at their table, and I set the bear back in the chair. Matt pulled my chair out for me, and I smiled up at him as I sat down. I couldn’t help but notice the way my parents exchanged a glance when they saw that. For the first time I could remember in my entire life, a look passed between them that was meant to be secretive held approval and happiness.
The waiter came by and gave us menus. It didn’t take long for us to choose what we wanted, and he took the menus while bringing us our juice.
“There’s something else we wanted to talk to you about,” my father said when the waiter walked away.
That phrasing brought back bad memories, and the happiness I’d been feeling faded. My heart gave a hard thud in the middle of my chest, and I worried what was going to come next. No matter how excited they were telling me they were, and the good things they said the day before, those words brought me right back to all the negative conversations I’d had with my parents over the years.
Something like that was usually followed up by an attack on a choice I’d made, or not doing enough with my life, or something I said or didn’t say that offended or embarrassed them. Sometimes it was a lead-in to them telling me about something they obligated me to without asking ahead of time, or another demand they were placing on me.
It felt like I was about to go right back down that same road. But I had Matt right there beside me. If that did happen, I could at least know I wasn’t alone.
“Alright,” I said. “What is it?”
My parents looked at each other again. The emotion in that look was not as easy to read as the last one, and I waited for the tense seconds it took for them to finally speak.
“Your father and I have had a very serious conversation about choices we have made and the life that you have been living,” my mother said. This didn’t seem to be starting well. “And we came to the conclusion that we are very proud of who you have become.”
I was stunned. I could barely process what she just said much less know how to respond. My mouth opened, but words didn’t come out. I looked over at Matt, then back to my parents. I couldn’t remember the last time I heard them say that. I didn’t even know for sure if they ever had.
“You are?” I asked.
They nodded, and my father leaned slightly toward me. “We want to pay for you to go back to school. If journalism is really what you want to do, then that is what you should be pursuing. You should go get your degree and go after the career you truly want. We also contacted our attorney this morning to reinstate your trust fund.”
“We know Matthew will take very good care of you, but we want to ensure our grandchild can have the very best of everything. No matter what that is, we want to make sure it’s available,” my mother said.
The tears I’d been trying to hold back throughout the morning broke free.
“Thank you,” I said through them.
“You don’t need to cry,” my father said. “We thought this would make you happy.”
“It does,” I said. “I can’t even tell you how much it does. I never thought you would speak to me again after I left.”
“It was hard understanding why you were making the choices you were,” my father admitted. “We both thought we had always done what was best for you and that we were leading you down the right path. When you left, it was difficult for both of us, and we were upset.”
“You were more than upset,” I said.
My mother nodded. “We were. We were angry. We thought you were making a mistake and ruining your life. Now we realize we were wrong. Like we told you yesterday, we understand now that we cannot treat you like a child anymore. We are going to try harder at treating you like an adult. But we also want you to know we are here for you.”
The waiter came up at that moment with our food. I was relieved to have
