Page 52 of The Backdraft
My mom shared a look with my dad, then they both turned their gazes to me. “Why didn’t you?”
If I could’ve fast-forwarded this part of the conversation I would’ve because the last thing I wanted to do was make my parents feel like they weren’t great parents. But I also knew that our relationship would continue to have this one-sided strain on it if I didn’t finally say something. “Because I felt like you guys would be disappointed in me.”
“Why would we be disappointed in you?” my dad asked.
“You’re not exactly sixteen anymore, sweetheart,” my mom added with an apprehensive laugh.
“Because I didn’t plan for this? If that wasn’t entirely obvious. Or because I’m not married? I don’t know. I’ve always felt like the family screwup, and accidentally getting pregnant feels like a pretty big screw up.” It felt so juvenile to be having this conversation as a twenty-eight-year-old woman, but maybe that was because it should’ve been had a long time ago.
For a brief time they simply stared at me, and then my mom’s eyes began to water, and I wished I could take it all back. I hated seeing my mom cry.
“You are not a screwup because you didn’t plan to get pregnant. You’re not a screwup period. Where is this coming from?” My mom looked as appalled as she sounded.
Some on-the-spot reflecting had me coming to a realization about myself. “I think I always put myself in competition with Garrett and Linnea, and always felt like I came up short or lacking.”
My dad leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he pointed a finger at me. “Let’s get something straight. You are Darcy. Linnea is Linnea, and Garrett is Garrett. That’s all there is to it.”
My mom rolled her watery eyes, an exasperated sigh leaving her lips. “What your father is saying, in fewer words, is that you three are equally exceptional in completely different ways. It’s not fair to compare yourself or your achievements to either of them.”
“Right. What she said.” My dad nodded, and I laughed at how easily he agreed with her.
My mom eyed him with a smile. “We wouldn’t want you to be anyone but the Darcy that you are. And as for everything with our grandbaby, it doesn’t make a lick of a difference to us if you’re married or not. Archer seems like a great guy, and you both are going to make wonderful parents.”
Part of me wanted to come clean about the fake-boyfriend situation right then and there, but it wasn’t my deal alone to share. While I doubted my parents knew anybody in the Gettysburg Fire Department for word to get back to, those weren’t my chances to take. I needed to talk to Archer before I came clean.
Then there was a tiny part of me that wasn’t so sure there was anything to fess up to anymore. Not that I was so delusional as to believe that after one heated, very sober kiss in a truck, that Archer and I were suddenly dating. But we’d both agreed on no kissing in public, so that definitely ruled out kissing in private, and yet it happened, so what did that mean?
Until I knew what was going on, there was nothing to admit to, and if I was imagining everything I thought was happening between Archer and I, I’d own up to it later. Besides, I meant what I’d told Archer. He didn’t have to date me to be a father to this baby if that’s what he wanted. It was his baby too.
“I’m sorry I freaked out,” I confessed.
My dad waved a hand through the air. “Please. That’s nothing! When your mom was pregnant—” He took one glance at my mother and decided he’d better change the trajectory of that sentence. “She was the most level-headed, beautiful, and patient pregnant woman ever.”
My mom gave him a haughty look. “You’re damned right I was.”
***
When we rejoined the rest of the family, my gaze instantly locked onto Archer who was deep in conversation with . . . Garrett. The sight immobilized me. Whatever conversation they were having—and knowing my brother I had my suspicions—it was tense, but it was also friendly? Both men had their arms crossed over their chests, but their stances were otherwise relaxed. Then they laughed at something, and I took that as my all clear.
“What’s so funny?” I asked, approaching Archer’s side. Letting my shoulder bump into his arm, I eyed him speculatively.
Garrett slapped Archer on the back. “You can answer that one. I suspect I’m in enough trouble with her.” Then he was striding across the kitchen to where Linnea was showing Cory something on her phone, talking in the animated way she did.
Alone, I cocked an eyebrow at Archer, waiting for the answer that my brother was too scared to deliver himself.
He rubbed the back of his head, a smirk playing at his lips which had me remembering the kiss we needed to talk about. “He was telling me some childhood stories about you.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Which ones and why?”
“We were talking about how you can be a bit spiteful—”
“I am not!” I interjected.
He raised his eyebrows at me. “Oh no? You told me to show up to breakfast thirty minutes earlier than the time I’d suggested, only to show up later than said time just to get under my skin.” Seconds passed while he waited for a rebuttal that never came. “Anyway, he told me about a certain family camping trip.”
“Oh my god!” I yelled, then peered around Archer to yell at Garrett. “Really, Garrett?”
His deep laughter boomed from the other room. “I figured he’d want to know what he was getting himself into with you!”
