I appreciated what she was doing, but I recognized the jokes for what they were. Mom, for all that she was on Team Serendipity, used humor to deflect from conversations about hard feelings. The idea of not seeing her brainiac honors kid walk across a stage to get a diploma absolutely bothered her. She wouldn’t have brought it up otherwise. So, of course, I silently committed to finishing the course load on time, my spawn’s pukey demands be damned. Not once had Mom reamed me for getting knocked up. The least I could do was provide her that Kodak moment.

Mormor will hold the baby while I cross the stage, I bet.

It was the first time I’d really acknowledged to myself that I was going to be a parent—that my life would irrevocably change. I’d known in the doctor’s office after seeing the jelly bean on the screen that I wanted to keep it, but up until that point it’d still seemed like a nebulous concept. Motherhood was part of my vocabulary, and part of my reality, but...it hadn’t settled into my bones, if that makes sense. The thing about Mormor holding the baby, though—that was tangible. Graduation would see me wearing a big ugly gown, a flat hat and tassels while my mother snapped photographs and my grandmother held my kid.

My baby.

I was going to be a mom.

I hadn’t articulated it yet to my family, or to Devi, but...I was sure. The surety settled in as Mom drove us back to Mormor’s.

Now to just get the ovarian fortitude to fess up to it to everyone.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Mom asked a minute later, because long expanses of Serendipity silence were a rare thing to behold.

“Hmm? Oh, just making a plan,” I said, totally chickening out. “I want to graduate on time for sure, though.”

“Then you will. You can do anything you put your mind to,” she said.

“That’s kinda bullshit, though, isn’t it?” I glanced at her profile. “We tell people that—you can do anything—but there are roadblocks. Like, I don’t mean to be Debbie Downer, but I can’t go to Harvard now, even if I got in. If I could do anything, I could do that.”

The car rolled to a stop at an intersection and Mom cast me a shrivel-worthy side-eye. “Wow, breaking out the cuss words and everything. Someone’s got feelings.”

I wasn’t really supposed to swear. I could, on occasion, and get away with it, but not in general. My fingers ran up and down the seat belt crossing my chest. I’d had to fuss with it four times so it didn’t hit my aching boobs the wrong way. “Sorry, just... I dunno. I don’t like sunshine and rainbows launched up my butt as a way to motivate me.”