Page 97 of Anti-Hero

I swore her to secrecy during my last trip home, but I knew that couldn’t last forever. My mom was about to ask the question anyway, as soon as I let thatweslip.

“No,” I answer. “Well, not anymore. It’s, uh, Kit Kensington?” That last sentence comes out like a question, even though it’s not really one. I ordered a paternity test so I was prepared for the Kensingtons’ lawyers with proof that I wasn’t a gold digger, not because I had any doubts.

Jane flashes me an encouraging thumbs-up.

My mom blinks rapidly.

“Kit Kensington,” I prompt when she says nothing. “You met him my freshman year, during move-in. He’s Lili’s brother.”

“Smells good in here, Mandy.”

I glance at the doorway. My dad’s returned, bent over, unclipping Newton’s leash from his collar.

“Did you know?” Mom asks Dad.

“Know what?” he replies, hanging the leash up on a hook.

“That Collins is having a child with herboss?”

I swallow hard. I guess she knowsexactlywho Kit Kensington is. Knows my direct superior, not just the company I work at. I was hoping to ease into that part a little more. Emphasize theI’m friends with his sisterpart before revealing the wholeI work for himbit.

Embarrassment prickles in my chest. “He wasn’t my boss when we—” I clear my throat, losing some steam when I realize I’m treading dangerously close to revealing details about my sex life to my parents. “It sounds bad, but nothing unprofessional took place. It was unfortunate timing, is all. I’m looking for a new job. He won’t be my boss for much longer.”

I hope, I add silently. I didn’t get the paralegal position I’d appliedto last month. Or any other jobs I’ve pursued. But mentioning that now isn’t going to reassure anyone.

“Oh, Collins. You’re changing jobsagain?”

The way my mom saysagain, you’d think I was swapping out careers on a weekly basis. My parents were so relieved when I told them I was double majoring in college, happy I’d have a fallback career if—when—music wasn’t paying the bills. I prided myself on not worrying them, and now it feels like it’s all I’m doing.

“Lots of people change jobs in their twenties, Mom,” Jane says. “It’s like dating, but for a career. How many people marry the first person they go out with?”

My parents exchange a look.

They did, which I used to think was sweet. Now that I’m older and far more jaded and aware of mistakes my father has made, I don’t.

“Also, Kit’s abillionaire,” Jane continues. “Linny won’t have to worry about money. She could play piano again.”

I suck in another deep breath of fall air. All the heat in the kitchen is getting sucked out the open window, which would ordinarily make my frugal father fret. But I’m the only one who seems to notice the dropping temperature in the room.

Jane is trying to help. She’s trying to spin this into a fairy tale. But I know, even before I see my mom’s pursed lips and my dad’s furrowed forehead, that was the wrong argument. Our parents raised us to be independent and proud, not reliant. To work for what we received. The net worth of my baby daddy isn’t an important factor in their minds.

Mom focuses on me. “If you’re leaving your job, you should reconsider moving home.”

“I’m not moving home,” I state. “I like living in New York. And it’s where Kit lives. He chose to be involved, and I’m not going to makethat harder than it needs to be.”

“Have you discussed custody?” my dad asks somberly.

“Not … specifics,” I admit.

Another loaded look is exchanged between my parents.

I glance at the sonogram my mom is still holding.

I know they have my best interests at heart. That their doubts are rooted in a place of love and concern. But their lack of confidence—in my ability to manage this situation and in my relationship with Kit—stings.

“Do you need help with the food, Mom?” Jane asks, glancing at the clock on the wall. “I’m starving.”

“Right. The cheese.” Mom walks over to the fridge, grabbing an unused magnet off the steel surface and using it to affix the sonogram. She opens the door next, removing a plastic package and passing it to Jane. “Don’t ruin your appetite. I just have to finish the stuffing. Everything will be ready in another hour.”

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