When You Were Mine by Alessa Martel

Author:Alessa Martel
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2020-04-23T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

"What? When? How did this happen?"

Sydney stands up abruptly from the sofa, where she's been sitting beside me as our parents share their news, and throws her hands up in the air in disbelief.

"Well, Sydney, sometime in October. And the usual way, I expect."

Our mom has somehow maintained her sense of humor, in spite of how obnoxious my sister sounds. Incredulous, even, as if it just isn't possible for our parents to do what they've done before.

Had the two of us. As well as done what it takes to produce children.

I take my sister's hand and she pulls away from me, glaring down into my face.

"And you knew? You knew and you didn't tell me?"

"Hey," I begin, but she continues as if she doesn't want to hear what I have to say.

A long strand of her hair is sticking to the side of her face, and I want to push it up and back into her braid. I don't think she would appreciate the gesture right now, though.

"That's not fair. She hasn't even been living here, and I see you every day. How could I not know? Why didn't you say anything?"

Our dad's face is stony, and while our mom is still smiling indulgently, he is growing more angry with every word my sister says.

"Sit down right now, young lady. I've had enough."

When Sydney flops back down, she reaches out to me this time, and I don't hesitate to take her hand in mine when I see the tears standing in her eyes.

"Jenny found out today, accidentally. We wanted to tell you both at the same time. Not that we have to, and that's something you have to understand as well."

"Daniel . . ."

Our mom rests her hand on his knee, but he doesn't stop talking, looking from my sister to me and back again.

"Yes, this affects our whole family, but what the two of you fail to see is that this is between your mother and me first. Obviously. You're both old enough to understand and respect that."

He's right, and I can't fault Sydney for being slow to realize this. She's younger than me, and I didn't even really consider that.

"I want to be here."

The words slip out of my mouth before I think about them, although I was wondering about the baby's due date while we were still in the car.

I don't want to miss this. Not just the birth itself, but what follows. Being here to help our parents with the baby, watching him or her grow, and as I watch the tears slide down Sydney's face, I know that I want to be here for her as well. Her last year of high school, taking the ACT, applying to college . . . I want to be here for her, too.

"Of course you do. I wouldn't expect you not to, Jenny. I'm glad you'll only be a couple of hours away, so it won't be too difficult for you to come home and visit when the baby arrives.

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