Possessive Baby Daddy

She looks surprised and laughs. “Is this serious, Shauny?”

“Yes,” I say.

“Well then. I look forward to meeting her.”

I frown. “Really?”

“Really. I’m not a monster, after all.”

I snort but say nothing. She gives me a look and turns back to the window. We drive on in silence for a little while before I can’t take it anymore.

“Why are you here?” I blurt the question out before laying out groundwork.

Mother closes her eyes. “Can we not talk about that?”

“You call out of the blue and fly out here suddenly without so much as a real explanation. What are you doing here, Mother? If you’re here to check up on me, I’m telling you, I’m fine.”

“That’s not it,” she says. “It’s just business.”

“What’s so important that you’d come out here yourself?”

She frowns. “Dear, it’s nothing.”

“Mom.” The car comes to a stop in traffic. “Can we stop with the bullshit for once?”

She looks at me, frowning at my language. “You want the truth?” she asks.

“Tell me,” I say.

“I’m here to get reconstructive surgery on my chest.”

I turn around to stare at her in shock. “Wait, what?”

“Six months ago, I got a double mastectomy. Oh, don’t look at me like that.”

“You did what?”

The car ahead of me in traffic moves and the car behind honks. I pull forward and jerk to a stop again before turning back to stare at her.

“Darling, pay attention to the road.”

“You got a mastectomy. You had cancer?”

“Yes, dear,” she says. “And I’m fine now, thanks for asking.”

“What… how… how did I not now?”

“Nobody knew.” She says the words so plainly and shrugs. “I didn’t tell your father, either, if that helps. He thinks I’m out here buying a hotel.”

I stare at her in total disbelief. The car honks again, and again I pull forward before slamming on the breaks.

“Mother,” I say. “You can’t just drop this on me. Are you okay? What’s going on?”

She sighs and rubs her eyes. “This is why I kept it to myself. You’re all so dramatic.”

“Mother,” I say, getting angry.

“Okay, fine. I found a small lump. I got it checked out. It was cancer. I found it early, and it wasn’t aggressive, but the doctor recommended a double mastectomy based on some genetic markers. I did the surgery, did a round of chemo, and now I’m all cancer-free.” She smiles at me and there’s a hint of sadness in her eyes.

“You don’t have to go through that alone.”

“What, and show weakness?”

“Yes,” I say. “You’re human. You’re mortal. What do you mean, show weakness?”

“I’m the head of this family, Jacob. I can’t just—”

“Shaun,” I grumble. She always mixes our names up when she gets upset.

She closes her eyes. “Shaun. I can’t just show weakness like a normal woman could. I deal with it on my own, and now I’m having reconstructive surgery to regain some of my womanhood.”

“Jesus,” I say, my voice quiet. “Mom, I’m so sorry.”

She’s quiet for a long moment as traffic starts to move again. I avoid being honked at this time, and when the car comes to a stop, she puts a hand on my shoulder. “I’m okay, darling,” she says, and squeezes. “Really. This is just so I can wear a dress again without feeling like a freak.”

I clench my jaw. I hate that my mother went through this, and in her own typical fashion. Of course she had breast cancer and of course she didn’t tell a soul. That’s Sylvia Lofthouse.

She’s a badass and a warrior. And god, sometimes, I hate her so much. I wish she’d let us be there for her.

“How big?” I ask.

“Excuse me?” Her hand drops away.

“I assume you have a choice of size,” I say. “How big you going? Huge? Plan on fulfilling all of Dad’s fantasies?”

She groans. “Don’t be disgusting, Shauny. I plan on putting myself back to the way I was before.”

“That’s a shame. I think you should go huge.”

“Idiot,” she says, and looks out the window with a smile on her lips. “I’m not talking about this with you anymore.”

I smile myself and keep driving.17KlaraI can’t remember the last time I was nervous to meet a boy’s mother.

Maybe never, come to think of it. I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever really done this formal sort of meeting before.

But Shaun warned me ahead of time. His mother is a very conservative woman. He wants me to be myself, but just… don’t curse, don’t wear anything revealing, don’t talk about inappropriate subjects like money or politics or religion.

I’m sure there’s a whole list of etiquette I should know, but he didn’t push that on me at least.

He sends a car for me the day after his mother gets into town. The car takes me over to his house and drops me off. I stand in the driveway for a long moment, gathering myself, before I walk to the front door and ring the bell.