I’m the definition of a chicken shit. For weeks I have avoided the inevitable. Dessie planned a wedding, invited people and somehow I haven’t grown a set to tell her no or that we’re making a mistake. Not only that, but she’s delusional enough to think this is what I want. Maybe it is. Maybe I’m too blinded by my infatuation to see what’s in front of me. Dessie is pregnant with my child, and at some point, I must’ve thought marriage was in the cards for us since I asked her to move in with me.

Needless to say, I have frozen feet solidly encased in cement being anchored to the ground. I don’t know if I’m making the right decision or any decision at all for that matter.

Dessie’s loving the attention she’s getting from the local paper. Of course, it’s big news when your former high school standout returns home to get married, which was never my intention, yet as my tuxedo pants are being yanked, pulled and I’m asked which side do I hang, I haven’t found the words to tell her we can’t do this.

“Everyone is so thrilled you chose Beaumont,” Mrs. Kline says. Her and her husband have owned the only wedding store in town for years. I was fitted here for each tuxedo I wore to prom. “Are you doing the flowers?” Mrs. Kline asks my mom, who is sitting in the corner, watching me as I get poked with needles.

“I’m not. I passed the job onto another florist in Allenville. I don’t want to fret over the finer details while Noah is getting married.”

My stomach rumbles just as Mr. Kline tells me I’m done. Ever so gingerly, I walk off the platform and into the dressing room where I carefully step out of my pants. I dress quickly and meet my mom by the door.

“Want to grab lunch?”

She smiles softly. “Sure, Noah.”

After I open the car door for her, I run around to the other side. Beaumont is small. Everyone knows everyone. But they don’t bother my dad or I for autographs, which is rather nice. However, small also means our options for lunch are limited. I decide to take her to Ralph’s. Not the classiest place, but the lunch menu is decent and the place is big enough that we’ll be able to talk.

My mom doesn’t hide her emotions well. I know something is bothering her, and honestly, I’ve been avoiding her. In all the years I’ve been dating, I’ve never asked her if she’s liked any of my girlfriends. Mostly, because I was afraid that whoever I was with at the time wouldn’t live up to her standards. Not that she has crazy high expectations, but I’m her son, and I think it’s hard for moms to let go.

A few years back, the owner of Ralph’s died. The band did a huge tribute to him, mostly out of respect for my dad. It was here, when my dad played a song he had written for my mother, that everything changed for them.

We step into the pub that hasn’t changed much over the years. The lights are still fairly dim, the floor is some kind of tile, but no one knows what color it is. The stage is waiting for the next band to set-up. I wave at Ralph’s son, who is now running the place. We call him Ralph, even though his name is Charlie, and he doesn’t correct us, so I assume he doesn’t mind.

“Hey Josie, Noah. What can I get you to drink?” Lonnie, the lone waitress asks.

Mom and I both order water.

“I haven’t eaten here in years.” I peruse the menu, trying to remember what’s good. Honestly, most pub food is good as long as you don’t try to get too fancy and order a steak or seafood.

“It’s because you never come home.” Mom sounds bitter, but I get it. “Paige loves the steak fries here.”

I decide quickly on a burger, fries and a chocolate shake, and set my menu down so I can focus my attention on the woman across from me. For the longest time, she was my best friend and cheerleader, and while she’s still my number one fan, something has shifted. Since Christmas, she’s been unusually quiet and I have a feeling it’s because of the situation I’m in.

As soon as she puts the menu down, I lean toward her. “Talk to me.”

“I’m fine, Noah.”

“Rule number one,” I start to say, closing my mouth as the waitress arrives. We give her our orders and once she’s out of sight, I look at my mom and smile. “As I was saying. Dad has always preached if a woman says fine, you know she’s not. Don’t make me use the word.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would. I so would.”

Mom squints her eyes as she looks at me, testing my resolve. I cock my eyebrow at her and smirk. “Mommy, please tell me what’s wrong.” My lower lip juts out as her willpower crumbles. Only, she ends up covering her face. Her shoulder shakes and there’s a soft whimper coming from behind her hands.

I’m up and out of my seat, sliding into her booth and wrapping her in my arms. “I’m sorry, Mom. Whatever it is. I’m so sorry.”

She pulls her hands away and wipes away her tears. “I’m fine, Noah.”

“Clearly, you’re not.”

“I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“Hurt them. I don’t care.” It’s not like I’m feeling much these days anyway.

Mom takes a deep breath. She looks at me before she stares down at her napkin. “I don’t like Dessie. I never have. I think she treats you poorly, is self-centered and I’m questioning if she’s even pregnant.”

My gaze lands on what was my seat until I moved to comfort my mom. The torn and worn out pleather shows its age. The inside lining of the booth is threadbare and it’s only a matter of time until there’s nothing left of the cushions. Her last statement replays through my mind. I can’t make heads nor tails of it.

“Dessie told me you didn’t like her, but I didn’t believe it.”

Mom shakes her head. “I’ve tried, Noah. I really have, but something about her rubs me the wrong way. She’s superficial. I’m not the only one who sees it. Both your grandmothers feel the same way.”

My jaw clenches. Wonderful. All the women in my life can’t stand the soon to be mother of my… “Wait, why do you think she’s not pregnant?”

“Because I’ve been there, Noah. Twice. There are signs and she doesn’t show any of them.”

“Everyone is different though, right?”

Mom nods but doesn’t say anything else as our food is brought to the table. I excuse myself and slip back onto my side, picking at my fries. Mom takes a few bites of her cheesesteak and puts it down. “Noah, I love you more than life. I’ve been trying to tell myself I need to get over these feelings I have for Dessie, but I can’t. Yes, everyone is different, but she shows very little signs of being pregnant. I’ve cooked garlic, onion, tomatoes – she’s helped and eaten everything. When I was pregnant with you and Paige, garlic upset my stomach. I find it strange that she seems to be okay with everything, that nothing seems to make her feel queasy or she has no pregnancy-related sickness of any kind.”

“Are you trying to make her sick?” I don’t want to believe my mother would do something like that, but I’m starting to second-guess how well I know her, and I never thought I’d think that of my mother.

“I would never. But your girlfriend has been in the hot tub, and I’m sorry, but anyone who is pregnant knows you can’t go in the hot tub.”

“Maybe she forgot.”

Mom nods and goes back to eating her food. The rest of lunch is done in silence, and so is the drive back to the house. She gets out of the car and instead of going to the front door, she runs down the back steps where my dad’s studio is.

I contemplate going in and asking Dessie but have a feeling each answer will be opposite of my mom’s and that’ll force me to pick. Instead, I head back into town and stop at Nick’s office. Inside, the receptionist he’s had for years smiles.

“Hi, Noah. Your dad is with a patient. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

“Actually, Jody. I’m here to see Aubrey.”

Jody smiles and presses the buzzer for the door. “You know where to find her.”

“Thank you.” I walk down the hall where behind one closed door there’s a baby crying. I can hear Nick and one of his nurses trying to soothe the child.

I find my stepmom at her desk, reading some manual. Knowing her, it’s about some disease in Africa, and she’s trying to find a way to help.

“Knock knock,” I say as I lightly rap my knuckles on her door. Aubrey looks up in surprise and grins.

“Noah! What a pleasant surprise. What brings you by?”

“I need some advice.”

She motions for me to sit down in the chair across from her desk, which is filled with pictures of all of us, including Betty Paige. A few years back, she and Nick had family photos taken and asked that Paige and I be included. I was an automatic yes and surprisingly my parents agreed to let Paige do it as well.

“So what’s up?”

“As you know, Dessie’s pregnant.”

Aubrey nods.

“Would she be allowed to go into a hot tub?”

Her eyes widen. “Absolutely not. The temperature of the tub is more than the uterus can shield from the baby. In laymen’s terms, the baby would essentially boil.”

I rest my head in my hands. I’m sick to my stomach thinking Dessie would harm our child like this. “What about doctor’s appointments? We’ve been here almost a month and she hasn’t mentioned needing to go back to visit a doctor or anything.”

Aubrey seems to think on this one a bit. “It really depends on when her last one was, but normal appointments are twenty-eight to thirty days apart so there’s an accurate record of the baby’s growth and how well nutritionally the other is doing. Why all the questions?”

I shrug. “My mom doesn’t think Dessie is pregnant.”

Aubrey sits back in her chair and sighs. “Women’s intuition. We’re not always right, but sometimes you can sense things. It’s also a mother’s sense. We suspect, always. It’s why we’re constantly asking you questions, it’s because we have a suspicion something isn’t right. And sometimes we’re wrong.”

“Dessie says she’s heard the heartbeat--”

“When was this?”

“At her first appointment. I had a road game so I couldn’t go.”

Aubrey pulls some wheel type gizmo out and writes a few numbers down. “It’s possible, but doctors normally don’t check for a heartbeat at the first appointment unless the mother says she’s farther along. Honestly, Dessie didn’t share much when we saw her at Christmas, no due date or anything like that.”

“Can’t say I know either.”

My stepmom leans forward with her hands clasped on her desk. “Are you having second thoughts?”

I nod. “About everything. I don’t know what to do or who to believe. What questions to ask or what information to demand.” I stand up and start pacing. “It’s like my world is crashing all around me and I can’t stop it. I’m in love with another woman and Dessie knows this, and now she’s pregnant and I just…” My heart rate accelerates, causing my breathing to become sporadic. I bend at my waist, even though I know this isn’t the answer. Aubrey is there to help me back to the chair.

“Noah, you’re facing an uphill battle. Your feelings for Peyton are getting stronger, but your desire to do the right thing is also playing a heavy part in your decision-making. Have you spoken to Dessie about how you feel?”

“She knows I’m in love with Peyton.”

“Is that when she told you she was pregnant?”

I nod. “We broke up. I told Peyton how I felt, and Dessie shows up in Chicago with the news.”

“And just like that your happily ever after is swirling down the toilet.”

I look at Aubrey, who is smiling. “Nice analogy.”

She shrugs. “If I knew more about football, I’d use one of those, but this coach’s wife is not well versed on the terminology. I only know that when Mack has the ball, he has to run fast.”

Aubrey opens her arms and I fall into her embrace. “It’ll all work out, Noah. I don’t have the answers, but your dad and I have the resources. You could always bring her in to hear the heartbeat if you want.”

Her suggestion gives me a lot to think about, but still, I don’t know what to believe. Dessie has no reason to lie to me, but neither does my mom.