I collapsed onto my bed. “I’m going to have to drop out of school.”
“You can always go back later.”
“Mom and Dad will kick me out of the house. Then what? Are Ben and I supposed to live on our own with his salary from working in the meat department?”
“Live with Ben’s parents.”
“What makes you think they’d let us live there?”
“Because his parents used to let you bring your rescued animals to their place.”
“In the barn.”
“Well, if it was good enough for Mary and Joseph.” Eve chuckled. “You can get married and register for a manger.”
“Stop.” I laughed.
“You won’t know until you tell them.”
“It’s funny,” I bit my thumbnail for a beat, “I’ve hated keeping this from them, and now that Ben knows, and it’s time to tell them, I’m scared to death.”
“I’ll do it.”
“You’ll what? Tell them I’m pregnant?”
“Totally. I’ll drive back to Devil’s Head and whip up a nice dinner. Maybe forage for enough wildflowers to make a beautiful centerpiece. Then after Dad says grace and everyone is passing around the food, I’ll say something like, ‘What do you think Gabby and Ben are going to name their baby?’ Or, maybe something more like, ‘Hey, Dad, did you catch the Bulls game the other night? And speaking of dribbling and shooting … Ben and Gabby had a little pre-ejaculatory mishap. God works in mysterious ways, huh?’”
“Eve—”
“Oh, wait. Maybe I could casually ask Mom if regular crib mattress sheets also work for mangers.”
“I’m never calling you again. It’s not funny,” I said—while giggling.
“Gabby, you’re growing a life inside of you. Laugh. Love. Be happy. Find joy. How am I doing? That’s what Sarah would say, right?”
I rested my hand on my belly. “What would Eve say?”
“Oh,” she laughed, “Let’s see …”
I prepared for some obnoxious or inappropriate “wisdom.”
“Gabby, I’d say to laugh, love, be happy, and find joy.”
“Eve,” I whispered. One reason I called her was because I trusted her not to make me cry.
She failed.
“Dad and Mom are going to be disappointed and sad that you’ve somehowmessed upyour future. They’re also going to be embarrassed. It doesn’t look good for the preacher’s daughter to get pregnant out of wedlock. And they might even disown you for the rest of your pregnancy, but there’s no way they see your baby and not fall in love with her.”
“Her? You think I’m having a girl?”
“Of course. You, Sarah, and I are only having girls. Had you not gotten knocked up like this, I would have said you deserved a boy. But nope. We’re having girls who will grow up to be naughty little whores.”
“Oh my gosh!” I snorted. “Eve!”
“Well, thanks for calling. Glad I could help.”
“Yeah, right.”