Mom smiled. “Exactly. You know this stuff. And you’ll take my advice or you won’t. It’s not that I don’t care, Sara, or that I gave up on you or whatever maudlin horse crap you invented. It’s that you know all of it. You’re old enough to choose to follow it or not. What you did with Jack was a choice. Not stopping to get a condom was a choice, too. Funny enough, inaction has bigger consequences than taking action a lot of the time.”

She came around the side of the car and slung an arm over my shoulder. I settled in against her, appreciating the kiss she pressed to my temple. “I’m going forward with the understanding that you’ll follow the rules. If you want to live for free in my house—or Mormor’s house—with your kid, you’ll do all the stuff you’re supposed to do, which includes being home on time, being honest with me, and not putting yourself and your kid in harm’s way. If you screw a guy, you wear a condom. Fastest way to put your pregnancy at risk is to get an STD. I won’t stand for you being irresponsible and hurting my grandkid, Cass-pee-yuh.”

“Cassiopeia,” I said. “Like the constellation.”

Mom smirked and threw open the front door of the house. “Oh, I know. I’m just being a turd.”

“Thanks, turd.”

“You are most welcome, turdlet.”

“You look awesome,” Devi said, standing behind me to fuss with my hair. “That cat eye is rocking.”

It was similar to Erin’s, with bold thick lines and a flirty flick at the end. Devi had gone lighter on the other stuff, not a lot of shadow or blush, because she wanted the focus on my eyes, she said. It was the right call. It and a little shimmery lip gloss and I looked Kardashian glamorous.

If Kardashians could be glamorous while pregnant and wearing combat boots, then so could I.

“I’m not changing them,” I said, answering Devi’s earlier call for a change in footwear.

“Oh, come on. You own cute shoes! It’s not too awful to wear sandals in October. I guess.”

“He likes me how I am. Including combat boots.”

“I’ll give you a pedicure!”

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

“You are the worst.” Devi sprawled on my bed and eyeballed her phone. “I suppose I should get going, too. You’re not the only one with plans tonight.”

“Oh?” I glanced her way, my brow raised. “That’s news.”

“Not really. It’s a video-game hangout. Some guy I’ve been talking to on my message board. He’s ace and I’m discovering I like his non-creepiness, particularly as it pertains to killing demons.”

“I hope you have a great demon-killing time together.”

“People who slay together, stay together, I guess?” Devi grinned and hauled herself up. “You ready for this, buttercup?”