I want to talk to him about what I’d like if I agree to marry him—that I want our families to be part of our lives, since it was just me and Dad when I was growing up. And I want to have a good relationship with his father, since he’s important to Emmett. Everyone needs to get along and support each other. Maybe I should make that clear to him, in case he somehow doesn’t realize this. Then we can discuss how we’re going to announce the news to our families.
–Emmett: I have a late meeting, and I don’t want you to stay up. See you tomorrow?
–Me: Okay.
The next morning, he texts again.
–Emmett: Sea creatures or land creatures?
I frown. Does he want to go diving again? Is that even safe if you’re pregnant? Or is this a hint he’d like to do a safari or something before the baby’s born? I have my first doctor’s appointment at the end of this month—she couldn’t fit me in earlier—and I don’t want to commit to anything until she clears me.
–Me: Sea creatures.
–Emmett: Why?
–Me: They remind me of our diving trip in La Jolla.
And I’ll never forget how I felt there, sharing the stunning underwater vistas with him.
After my Tuesday lunch massage, I leave the hotel with a takeout beef burrito that the concierge got for me. My phone pings, and it’s Dad.
–Dad: Hey, sweetie! When you get a chance, can you give me a call? Thanks!
I bite my lip as I read the text. He almost never asks me to call because he knows I’m usually busy. This must be important.
Trying to control a shiver of apprehension, I call him.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Amy
“Hi, Dad!” I say in my cheeriest voice.
“Hey, sweetie.” The brightness in Dad’s tone feels forced. “I d
idn’t interrupt anything, did I?”
“No, I’ve got a few minutes,” I say, checking the time. My meeting isn’t until one thirty.
“Oh, good.”
I wait, but he doesn’t say anything else. An awkward silence stretches. “Are you still there?” I ask.
“Yeah, yeah. Um. I was just calling to see if everything’s good.”
“It’s great. Everything okay with you?”
“Yeah, um. Well. It’s about Renée.”
Shock punches me in the gut. Of all the things I imagined, the topic of my mom wasn’t anywhere near the top of the list. “What about her?” I try for some calm, but my voice is shaky.
“Well, uh, she contacted me.”
“After all these years?” This is infuriating. “What does she want? Money?”
“No, no, nothing like that.” He gives a short laugh. “She knows I’ll never give her a penny.”
True. Dad’s no fool.