Father Christmas

Mom stares at him, unblinking, while Aunt Terry’s expression turns ice cold. I can’t stand the way they’re both looking at him, like he’s some kind of monster.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Aunt Terry says.

“We didn’t want you to find out like this—”

“How could you?” my mom shouts. “She’s just a child.”

“I’ll be nineteen in two weeks,” I say.

She ignores me. “You’ve known her since she was a baby!”

“Elaine,” Finn says, keeping his tone even. “I get that you’re angry. But respectfully, Astrid isn’t a kid. She can make her own decisions—”

“How dare you try to make this her fault.” She grabs my arm in an attempt to drag me away from him. “Astrid, we are leaving—”

“Mom, stop!” I step away from Finn in the hopes that it’ll calm her down, but she seems determined to pull me out of the room. My pulse races as I fight to stand my ground. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I cannot fuckin believe you would do this,” Aunt Terry shouts. “She’s Jamie’s daughter!”

Mom points to the door. “Get out. If Astrid won’t leave, then you’ll go.”

“That’s not gonna happen,” he says. “I’m not leaving her.”

“You guys, please stop,” I beg, but no one will listen. I wrap my arms around myself. This is worse than I could’ve imagined.

A sharp whistle pierces through the chaos. We all turn toward the sound.

“Everyone be quiet,” Gran says. “Astrid, Finnegan, Elaine. Family meeting in the dining room, right this minute. Everyone else, take your boots off and mind your business.”

Gran doesn’t wait for us to follow her into the hall. I’m the first to escape the room, grateful for the sudden quiet. Finn and Mom trail behind me, not speaking, but not shouting at each other either. Gran sits at the head of the dining table, and I take the chair to her right. Finn claims the spot beside me, earning a scowl from my mom, who drops into the chair directly across from mine.

The tension between us is so thick, you’d need a cleaver to cut through it. No one says anything for a long moment, and then I realize we’re all waiting for Gran to speak.

“We are going to discuss this like adults,” Gran says, finally. “Because that’s what we are. Now, I’ll admit, I have suspected that Astrid might be pregnant for some time. I became convinced of it this afternoon, when I realized that Finn might be the father.”

“You didn’t think to say anything?” Mom asks.

“I knew Astrid would tell us in her own time.” Gran looks at me. “And, sweetheart, now’s as good a time as any to speak your piece.”

Finn drapes his arm around the back of my chair, offering me his physical and emotional support. Breathing deeply, I take a second to arrange my thoughts in some kind of order.

“I wanted to wait until after Christmas to tell everyone,” I say. “I didn’t even want to tell Finn at first. The night after Gran’s surgery, Finn and I went out for ice cream. I think the stress of Gran’s surgery brought a lot of...feelings I’ve had to the surface. Things got a little out of control. We slept together.”

Mom rubs her forehead. “So, you’re saying he took advantage of you.”

“Finn didn’t take advantage of me, Mom. It was an emotional time for both of us. I wanted him. I’ve wanted him for as long as I can remember.”

Gran lifts her hand in a call for quiet. “Has anything like this ever happened between the two of you before, specifically while Astrid was a minor?”

“Never,” Finn says.

I nod in agreement. “That was the first time.”

“You say that like there were other times,” Mom says. “Finn hasn’t been back in town since Doreen’s surgery.”

I caress my baby bump and mumble, “We may have reconnected last night.”

“Oh, that’s just great. Now he’s got you sneaking around right under our noses.”