The Family Gathering (Sullivan's Crossing #3)(80)

“Okay. I guess that’s completely reasonable. But I bet there’s nothing wrong. Just, you know, the occasional bug I don’t quite get over before it hits me again.”

“Right. That was one of the things the internet didn’t turn up. That kind of occasional, uncertain bug. So you’ll see the doctor tomorrow morning at ten. But first,” he said, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a long, slim box. “This.”

She took the box from him. “A pregnancy test? But I haven’t even been late!”

“It’s the first thing the doctor is going to check.”

“I’m on the pill! I’ve been completely regular!”

“Just go pee on it and remove the question from my mind,” he said.

“But we’ve decided to adopt and foster on account of—”

“That’s fine, if it works out that way. For right now you act like a woman with a little touch of pregnancy. So pee!”

“But, Connie, I’ve had all my periods, right on time, everything is—”

“I want you to do this,” he said. “Do not make me squeeze you over that stick!”

“Jeez,” she said. “Don’t get all testy, okay?”

He reached for Sam. “Now,” he emphasized.

“Fine. But you’re going to feel silly.”

“I’m very good at that,” he said.

With a surly huff, she got off the floor and disappeared with the pregnancy stick. Connie held Sam on his lap. “Here’s the deal, bud. When you sign on with us, that means I’m your dad. That means you’ll have to count on me as the one who teaches you about women—how to understand them, how to talk with them, how to negotiate with them, how to make things work with them. And as you can see, I’m a little dense about that. Your mom is teaching me the rules. I’m slow to catch on but I’m getting there. By the time you really need to know, I’ll be a damn genius.”

Sam gurgled and flashed his big toothless grin.

A bloodcurdling scream came from the bathroom, causing Sam to jump, his eyes as big as hubcaps. His lower lip quivered. Molly jolted in her sleep and sat up, one ear flopped inside out.

“That could be a bad sign or a good sign, depending on your perspective. Let’s go see.”

Sierra was sitting on the closed toilet lid, her arms crossed over her knees, the test stick dangling from one hand. Her head was down and she was crying. She lifted her head when she heard Connie open the door. “Oh, Connie, what will we do?”

“I’d like to start by talking about it,” he said.

“How did this happen?” she asked.

He shook his head. “It’s not like we screwed up, Sierra. You were on the pill.”

“Maybe I got befuddled with all that was going on. I missed a couple, so I took them when I remembered and not at the same time every day. But I thought we were good.”

“It’s okay. This is a good thing.”

“Sam is only six months old yet and here I am—”

“We’re going to be busy,” he said.

“We’re going to do this?” she asked. “Are you saying we should do this?”

“Come here, Sierra,” he said. “Come on, honey.”

She went to him and he enfolded her with Sam into those big fireman’s arms, kissing her cheeks and eyes. He drew her backward until he was sitting on the edge of the bed, Sierra on his lap and Sam on hers. “I’m saying we should do this. I’m saying it’s ours, it came out of us, came out of our lovemaking, came out of our love for each other. It wasn’t planned, it’s going to be inconvenient, but we can manage. Lucky for us, we can manage.”

“But you agreed, the risk of schizophrenia...”

“I agreed that if you found having children a little too frightening given your father’s disease, I can live with that. But see this little guy right here? Our little guy? He came out of a smashed car. There are a lot of risks, honey. Parents have to be brave, strong and smart. I think we’re up to it.”

“Oh, Connie, I’ll worry all the time. Not only is there mental illness in the family, but addiction!”

“I think the last statistics I read, addiction touches every family. Thank goodness you’re an expert on it. So, don’t be afraid. We’re going to raise Sam and he’s going to have a little brother or sister.”

“I told you,” she said. “You’re taking a big chance on me.”

“I don’t regret it one bit,” he said. “You feel like shit sometimes because you’re pregnant. You’ve had morning sickness and you’re fatigued. You’re going to have a few more complaints along the way, too. But all in all, it’s going to be awesome. I love you.”

“You are too good,” she said, stroking his cheek.

“Apparently I really am too good,” he said, grinning. “I blew right through birth control pills and nailed an egg.”

“Please don’t get all cocky,” she said.

“Too late. I’m feeling very invincible right now.”

“Now what?” she asked.

“Now I think we convince Sam to take a little nap and get busy.”

“But I’m pregnant!”