Chapter 33

Adelaide

“Difficult roads often lead to beautiful destinations.”

I stare at my mother from across the dinner table.

“What?” I know she can see the confusion on my face without even asking, but she seems immune to it today.

“Some days you just have to create your own sunshine, dear.”

I look at my father for help.

“What is she going on about?”

He shrugs and scoops another spoon of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

“Have you been on Pinterest again?”

She grins, giving away the answer. “Why would you ask that?”

“Because you’re talking in inspirational quotes and not making any sense. The last time you did that, I had just broken up with Jason and you’d spent half the day prior on Pinterest.”

“You have a good memory,” she says before offering my dad the bowl of mac and cheese. He declines with a wave of his hand. “You just seem sad is all.”

“I’m not sad. I’m focused on school and life. It’s not always sunshine and roses, you know.”

“Does it have anything to do with that young man you brought to church last week?”

Why did she have to bring up Axton? I had almost gone an hour without him infiltrating my brain.

“He’s on a music tour,” I offer.

“Really?” I understand my mother’s confusion. They didn’t have the chance to dig too deep into his life last week.

“Yes. He’s touring with Easton Montgomery.”

“I’m not familiar,” my dad says.

“He’s a country singer. Pretty popular these days,” I explain.

“When he mentioned being into music, I assumed he meant like choir at college or something like that singing group in that movie where they don’t use instruments.”

“Pitch Perfect?” I laugh when she nods.

“Not my kind of music, but the talent is obvious.” She smiles, but it looks forced. “So, he’s, like, in a band?”

“He has a band that does the music for him, but he’s an independent act. Tour bus and all. He’ll be gone for a couple months.”

“Must be hard with your boyfriend being out in the world and gone. You must have a lot of faith in him.” My dad is fishing for information, but unlike my mother, he’s not going to come right out and ask for it.

“He’s a friend,” I clarify. “Only a friend.”

“Oh, good,” my mother says, relieved I’m not in a relationship with someone who may toe the line of inappropriate music.

“You don’t have to sound so relieved,” I mutter. “He’s not a bad guy.”

“But just not good enough?” my father asks. “If he were a good guy, you’d be dating him.”

“He is very good looking,” my mother repeats her sentiment from last week.

“He’s complicated,” I placate. “The whole situation is complicated.”

“Well,” my dad says in a serious tone, “I don’t like seeing you sad.”

“I miss him, but only as a friend.” I hate lying to my parents. I don’t do it often, but I feel justified. Talking any longer about Axton will lead to tears, and I’ve cried enough over the last week.

“Just follow your heart, Adelaide,” my mother offers, clearly another quote she read online.

“That may mean losing my mind,” I mutter under my breath before plastering a smile on my face and asking for her to pass the dinner rolls.

“How was church?” Renee is sitting on the couch, a magazine open on her lap and the TV on some fashion show.

“Church was fine, but lunch was pretty intense,” I tell her as I kick off my heels and plop down beside her.

“Did they ask about me?”

“They always ask about you.”

And they do. They know Mandy has to work most Sundays, but Renee has a Monday through Friday job and no excuse not to show up for church.

“They want you to be at church.” I’m stating the obvious, but I know my parents are concerned about her.

“I went to church,” she says softer than I’d expect from Renee.

“Really?”

She nods. “At that little church down on Sycamore. I just can’t see them. Mom will know something is going on the second she sees me, and I’m not ready to tell them about the baby yet.”

My eyes automatically go to the tiny bump she hides well under her clothes.

“You’re barely showing.”

“I know, but I also have this intuition now, and I know mom has it too. I just can’t risk it.” She looks away, face overcome with so much emotion, her lower lip quivers. “I haven’t even told Elijah, and I kind of feel like he should’ve been the first to know.”

“Probably.” I turn my head to face the TV, giving her the privacy she needs to work through her emotions, which seem to bubble to the surface so easily these days.

“I’ve messed everything up.”

“I don’t think that, but the longer you wait, the harder it will be for everyone to deal with.”

I sense her looking in my direction, so I turn my head to face her. Tears stain her cheeks.

“I’m not telling Mom and Dad until I have to. Maybe when I go into labor.”

I chuckle at her. “Then maybe you should start with Elijah.”

“How?”

I shrug. “I don’t have a clue.”

Picking up her phone, her fingers work for a few seconds, then she powers it down and tosses it on the coffee table.

“What did you just do?” My eyes widen. “Oh, Renee. Please tell me you didn’t.”

She glares at me. “How else then? He’s been avoiding me for the last three months. I wouldn’t be surprised if he blocked my phone number and never finds out.”

“That is an awful way to find out,” I mutter, but can’t really judge how she goes about it. It’s not my situation to deal with.

“It’s just as efficient as sending a letter in the mail, which, by the way, is the only other option.”

“How do you think he’s going to react?”

“I have no clue.” Her voice grows tired. “I’m going to go lie down.”

She doesn’t look my way or grab her phone from the table before she leaves the room. Changing the channel, I watch for a few minutes before heading into the kitchen to make something to eat. Lunch was stressful today and my stomach was turning while my parents grilled me about my intentions with Axton.

I chuckle when my stomach growls at the scent of the peanut butter as I make my sandwich. I start to tell it to settle down, but banging on the front door distracts me.

I try to make out the figure beyond the etched glass, but can’t see anything but a blur. Pulling the door open, my heart stops.

“Where is she?” Elijah, looking flustered and madder than I’ve seen him, steps past me into the house. “Don’t lie and tell me she’s not here. Her car is out front and she doesn’t work on Sundays.”

“I think you need to relax a little before you talk to her.”

His fingers rake over his hair, and I don’t miss the tremble in his hands.

“She just texted that she’s pregnant and you want me to calm down?” he sneers, upset but not aggressive. “That’s not even a possibility.”

“Well,” I begin, “you need to think about your baby. The stress isn’t good for either of them.”

He paces back and forth, harsh pants escaping his lips.

“My baby?”

I hold my hands up. “You need to think long and hard about what you’re about to say about my sister, and you need to think back to your time with her. I don’t know the ins and outs of your relationship, but I can tell you she only talked about you this summer. You’re all she’s talked about since.”

“I’m calmer,” he insists. “Is she in her room?”

I nod and walk back to the couch with my sandwich, hating that Mandy isn’t here. I don’t think Elijah would get violent, but the raised voices started the second he opened her bedroom door. I shoot off a text to Mandy letting her know Renee finally told him.

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Renee yells as her bedroom door opens.

Quick footsteps make their way down the hall. I fight the urge to look in that direction, but fail miserably.

Elijah storms past the couch to the front door, stopping when Renee screeches as she trails after him.

“That’s the most fucking ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” Both Elijah and I recoil at her foul language.

“Ridiculous would be getting me drunk and having sex with me without a condom.”

“I was drunk too! It’s not like you weren’t a willing participant. You took off your own pants after you did that thing with your tongue, not me.”

Am I invisible?

I swipe at the crumbs on my dress from my sandwich, avoiding all eye contact.

“You liked the tongue thing. Don’t act like you didn’t,” he hisses.

“I know I did. I also liked riding your cock, but that doesn’t mean we run off into the sunset and get married because I got knocked up.”

“That’s exactly what it means,” he clarifies.

“This isn’t the damn fifties, Elijah. I won’t marry you just because I’m pregnant.”

“Then marry me because you love me.” His voice softens, and Renee gasps in shock.

I toss my ability to look away out the window, my head volleying between Elijah and my sister as they go full on Jerry Springer in the living room.

“I never said—” She stops short when Elijah cocks an eyebrow at her. “You’ve ignored me for months and now we just plan a wedding?”

“Exactly.” One word, simple, full of authority.

My sister’s eyes shine with tears, the anger at him dissipating fast. “I won’t be able to make you happy.”

Her voice catches and Elijah’s fingers twitch with the need to reach out to her, but he stops himself at the last minute.

“My happiness was never the issue where you’re concerned.” He turns from her and opens the front door. “I’ll give you a while to think it over.”

I sag into the couch when the front door clicks closed.

“You’re getting married?”

“Like fucking hell I am.” Her door slams shut and she doesn’t come out for the rest of the day.