The Imperfections

The sooner this is over, the sooner I can go back to Brant’s house and hopefully wipe the memory of this night from his brain.

Given Brant isn’t exactly a people person, I’m surprised how convincingly sociable he is throughout dinner. It probably helps that pizza is a pretty quick meal. It wasn’t what I had in mind for this dinner, but I also didn’t think my mom would throw herself at my boyfriend. Now that she has, I’m glad there’s one stupid course and then we can go home.

I’m not sure when or how to bring up what we came to dinner to tell everyone, but luckily, Brant takes the wheel, despite the fact that it’s my family.

All the adults have finished eating but haven’t left the table yet. Brant drops his balled-up napkin on the paper plate in front of him and leans back in his chair, needing to take up more space than the flimsy folding chair allows. As if he’s comfortable, he says, “Well, thank you for dinner. This was very nice, and I’m glad I got to meet all of you.”

“Oh, it was so nice meeting you, too,” my mom tells him, still being fake as can be as she inexplicably still works at charming him. “You certainly weren’t what I was expecting. When Alyssa told me she was bringing home a boyfriend, I thought she meant that nice-looking neighbor kid who’s always jogging by and flirting with her. Derek, wasn’t it?” she asks, looking over at me.

I narrow my eyes at her blatant attempt to tell on me. “Dirk.”

“Dirk, that’s it,” she says, nodding and looking back at Brant. “I guess that’s over already. You know how kids are, never focused on one thing too long.”

“What does that even mean?” I snap.

Brant holds up a hand, apparently to halt me from fighting with my mom, and my eyes widen in outrage. I nearly jump across the table and scratch his handsome face off, but before I can, he addresses her. “Anyway, as nice as it was to meet everybody, that wasn’t the only reason I came over tonight.”

“I’m pregnant,” I announce without preamble.

My sister nearly chokes on a sip of water, her eyes widening at my bluntness.

I’m short-tempered right now, so I hold up my left hand and look at my wide-eyed, horrified mother. “Also, we’re getting married.”

“What?” she shrieks.

I look across the table at Brant. His jaw’s hanging open a few inches, surprise written all over his handsome face at my graceless announcement.

“Alyssa, you’re too young to get married,” my mother tells me.

I shrug, pushing back the metal folding chair and grabbing my paper plate off the table. “Regardless, I am. So, we wanted to tell you. I’m also gonna be moving in with Brant, obviously. The wedding… well, there’s no date yet since we just got engaged, but it won’t be too far off. We want to get married before I start to show, otherwise finding a pretty dress that fits is going to be a whole thing.”

“Now, wait just a minute,” my mother says, standing up from the table and following me out of the room. “Alyssa Anne, you stop right now. We’re going to talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I tell her, stopping at the counter and dumping my plate into the trash can at the end of it.

“There is a whole hell of a lot to talk about,” she disagrees, wide-eyed as she stops beside me at the counter. “You’re pregnant? Haven’t you learned anything from your sister? What the hell, Alyssa—are you stupid?”

“This isn’t going to be like that. Brant’s an amazing man and he’s going to be an incredible father. He’s going to marry me and we’re going to be partners in this. It’s not going to be like it has been for Amber.”

“Honey, men his age aren’t sleeping with 18-year-old girls because they’re looking for anything serious. This is a mistake. You’re too young for him, too immature. You don’t know a damn thing about life, and he’s not going to think that’s adorable for very long. Once you’re waddling around, the size of a house, with swollen ankles and an aching back, I assure you, that man is not going to be as smitten with you as he is now.”

“You don’t know anything about him,” I tell her, aggravated by the way she’s lumping Brant in with the sort of men she has been with.

“Oh, I know men, trust me. I know teenagers don’t think their mothers know anything, but believe me, I know. I have lived through this, and I know how quickly the love fades when an unwanted pregnancy pops up.”

Everything she says makes me so angry I think my head will explode. “I wasn’t asking for your permission or your blessing. I’m 18, I’m legally an adult, and I’ve already made my decision.”