Page 78 of Act Like You Don't Care
Tam
Iwaited until the next day to call my mother, catching her at the beginning of her lunch break. It was cowardly of me, but she’d always told me I was smarter than everyone around gave me credit for, and here I was being dumb. I was nervous, though I shouldn’t have been. She’d never been anything except accepting and supportive of everything I’d ever decided to do in my life. Why would that stop now?
“Hi, Tam,” she said as soon as she picked up.
“Hi, Mom,” I replied, and licked my lips. “I have something I need to tell you.”
“You’re pregnant,” she said blandly. “You think it wouldn’t get around?”
“Damn it, who told?” I demanded, all my uncertainty vanishing like fog in the face of bright sunshine.
“My understanding is that one of the grandkids overheard something and from there it went all around the family.”
“I’m going to wring Shane’s neck,” I promised, gritting my teeth so hard it hurt. “I wanted this kept quiet as long as possible. I’ve got a contract on the line over this.”
“Honey, any director in his right mind should be grateful to have you working on their film. If they’re stupid enough to let you go over this, then you don’t want to work for them.”
“It doesn’t work like that, Mom. Not here.”
“It works like that everywhere, once you really look at things. Now, tell me what happened. I hear you’re keeping it?”
I grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled in frustration, then smothered a laugh—because what else should I have expected from Mom—and slumped onto the couch for the rest of our conversation. “I am.”
“And the father?”
“He’s still around. I’m not keeping him, though. I don’t think.” I held my breath and waited.
The line was silent for a moment, then Mom said, “You know how much work a baby is, don’t you? Remember babysitting when you were younger?”
“I know.” I had more to say, but I couldn’t find the words.
I didn’t need to, though. She was my mother, and more than anyone, she knew me. “Do you want me to fly out and stay for a while?” she asked gently. “I have some vacation time left, and I’m sure they’ll let me use family time.”
I almost said yes without thinking, but even as I was opening my mouth, I realized there wasn’t much of a point. “I’d love it if you came, but if this film contract goes through, I’m going to be gone morning to night for the next couple of months. And honestly, I’d rather have you here after the baby comes. I’m sure Miles will help—” If I hadn’t pissed him off completely by then “—but it’s not the same.”
“So it was Miles, was it? And you’re not dating anymore, but he’s still around?”
“I—it’s complicated.” Then I sighed and told her the whole sordid story. Not the slightly abridged one she’d gotten the night they’d whisked me off to the safe house, or the short and to the point one right after they’d caught Joshua, but the entire thing, in all its dreadful detail. All the stupid choices I’d made along the way that had ended me where I was right now—pregnant with no husband, probably no job, and possibly no career. By the time I got to the end of it, I was seriously thinking about moving back in with her and getting a job at Disneyworld.
She let out a low whistle. “Okay, that’s filled in some blanks. Honestly, Tam.”
“I know.”
Mom made that low humming noise that usually meant that she was thinking hard. “No, I mean, I would have liked to have known all this when it was going on. Screw the job. I would have dropped everything and flown right over.”
“And we would have had to hire someone to protect you too.”
“Your Miles couldn’t have done it?”
My Miles. “No, he was busy guarding me.”
She made that noise again. “He must have a different idea of guarding than I do. Or is that how they do it in Hollywood? Because it seems very slapdash to me. Was he at least handsome?”
“Mom!” There, she’d made me laugh when I was all ready for a good sulk home alone in my bedroom. “Yes, he’s unquestionably gorgeous, though he doesn’t think so.”
“Hmph. Well, I suppose everything out there is full service,” she continued, as if having your mother comment on your sex life was just an everyday occurrence. “Maybe I should move to Hollywood and get myself a stalker. Tell me, is his father good-looking too?”
“His father is very married, and I don’t think Greta would appreciate you making eyes at her man.” Though I wouldn’t doubt, if Mom were to move out here, that she’d find herself a boyfriend in short order. She didn’t truly want one, though, despite the comments. I was pretty sure that my sperm donor had scarred her for life, at least where men were concerned.
