The kettle rumbled that it was ready. Mom waved Mormor off and poured our cups, her fingers holding the teacups in place so they wouldn’t skid over the countertop. “She’s not wrong. I married your father because of you,” Mom said. “I was Not Prepared. Like, at all.”

“I know,” I said. “You’ve told me.”

“Ehhhh. I’ve told you some.” Mom’s smile was tepid. Her tea was not. She sipped and winced at the burn, smacking her lips together and putting the cup aside to cool before climbing back onto her barstool. “Look, I really don’t think you’re going to try to run away with Jack. You’re not, right?”

I shook my head no.

And ate more meatballs.

“Good. ’Cause forcing a relationship because of a kid doesn’t work. If Jack wants in the baby’s life, okay fine. He helped make her and he has that right. But your life, he has to work for the right to be there. Trust me, I stayed with a physically abusive man for two years because his family told me I ought to for your sake. It was crap.”

I’d stopped eating meatballs at the word abusive. Mom had indicated things weren’t great with my father, that they’d fought a lot, but she’d never mentioned that he’d hurt her that way before. By the pained expression on her face, she wasn’t chomping at the bit to discuss it much again, either.

“I had no idea,” I said. “About Dad. Sorry.”

She shrugged. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault. Your father’s family was very traditional and some of those traditions weren’t great. He treated his mother like gold and his wife like garbage. When I asked his mother what to do after he’d smacked me around the first time, Maria told me that it’s just how their men did. And when I told my mother about it, she dragged me out of there and told me I deserved better. She was right. I did. So did you. You didn’t need to grow up seeing that. No kid should. My example is extreme—Jack’s probably not an abuser—but the point stands that a happy home makes for happy kids. You and Jack can be great parents apart, without faking it till you make it. If a relationship comes in time, cool. If not, well... Leaf sounds great, too.”

“He is great,” I said, sipping at my tea. “Really great. I really want you to like him.”

Mom smiled at me. “I’m sure I will.”

“And maybe I will,” Mormor said.

...because, of course that’s what she said.

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty