Page 74 of Campus Daddies

I nod, fretting as my mother closes the door and steps my way. She’s elegant in her sleek cream suit. It highlights the natural tan of her skin and the richness of her dark brown hair. She’s as beautiful as ever. Regal.

She’s been away for months, most of the semester, in Spain and France. But I’m so glad she’s made it home for this. Even if I’m mortified.

Mom’s dark eyes are luminous as she stands at the arm of my couch and looks me over.

She lowers herself to the edge of the cushion beside mine. “Tell me what’s happened.”

And I do.

The whole story from starting my thesis with Cedric, meeting Orion at Film Club, babysitting for Brax. How each of the romances developed separately before they crashed together.

How frequently they seek me out on their own, in pairs, or as a group—the latter of which’s frequency still surprises me. Not that I have any complaints.

And the way they make me feel… I don’t have the words to explain it except that they make me happy.

I stop before I tell her about the pregnancy. I’ll see the doctor later to confirm, and I’m just not ready to let that one out of the bag, but the reality is, my body has given me enough evidence that I don’t really need the confirmation.

Mom keeps a straight face through the entire thing, and once I’m done, I’m ready to deflate.

Although the ideas for my project—for a way to show a complete other side of the story—bloom in the back of my brain.

Mom grabs my hand in a tight grip.

“You know, something similar happened to me when I was in university. Before I met your father. I had an affair with mypoetry professor in Madrid.” Her eyes light up as she looks into my living room, like she can see her past. Her smile makes her look thirty years younger.

“What happened?” How much of my mother did I really inherit? Because… even with the current legal and social issues in play, I miss them. I want them here so we can help each other figure things out. It’s selfish of me.

Mom’s features soften with knowing, and she scoots a little closer. “It blew up in our faces, as these things always do. I was infatuated with him, although then I thought it was love. He did not share those feelings, and I was sent to America until my community could forget it.”

Her hand waves in the air between us in a staunch dismissal. “Or let it fade enough that it no longer mattered.”

My ribs constrict, and I have to battle with my body to suck in a breath. How do I know if this is real for anyone other than me?

But as to the horror of my intimate life being exposed to so many people at once, I think past that footage to the rest of what I’ve reviewed. It’s intoxicating to be able to see the reality of what happens between all of us versus what I remember.

It’s why I haven’t been able to give any of them up, despite how shaky other parts of my life have gotten.

“Is that when you met Dad?”

“It is. All things happen for a reason.” She squeezes my hands. “But that doesn’t mean we have to let all of the pieces fall where they may. You still have a lot in your control. So, tell me, baby. What are we going to do about this?”

“I have an idea. But first things first. How do I tell Dad I’m sleeping with one of his best friends?”

My mother’s laughter is sweet. “Oh, honey. I think he already knows, has known for some time. He’s not as oblivious as he pretends to be.”

Well, that’s a surprise. Why didn’t he say anything? Why pretend to be oblivious?

I guess I'll have to ask him.

“Mom. I need something else from you.”

“Anything, baby.”

“Come with me to the doctor?”

“Oh, baby. Of course.” It’s obvious the first thing Mom considers is that I’m pregnant. A flash of concern is overshadowed by her excitement.

I let myself feel excited, too, for the first time.

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