“A class, Mom? It’s summer.”
She smirked, shaking her head. “Yes. An exercise class.” She patted me on the head, then grabbed her purse and headed to the door, leaving me with the place to myself.
Back in my new and yet-to-be unpacked bedroom, I started to gather random things: underwear, hygiene products, a book. I wanted to get what I needed and get out as soon as possible. But, of course, one of those nagging feelings hit me. It needed to be addressed to stop it lingering on and ruining the day.
I glanced around and peered out of the window. I had a feeling there was something wrong, but I couldn’t put my finger on what.
I opened my bedroom door and peered into the hallway.
Empty.
I just had a weird sense that I wasn’t alone.
I was about to leave when I wondered if there were any clothes I should take. I gingerly picked up one of two items that I’d left hanging around. I’d forgotten which was the clean pile for putting away and which I’d intended to wash.
I dropped the items.
If I wanted anything, it would be hung in the closet. I cracked open the closet door, and an avalanche of man-flesh tumbled out before me.
“What the hell are you all doing in there?”
All four of them. I couldn’t imagine how they’d squeezed into the little hiding place in the first place.
“Ugh, uh...” Noah clamored to his feet. “Uh, hi, Grace.”
I proceeded to have the natural response to finding men hiding away in my bedroom. “What the fuck are you guys doing here? In my closet? How long were you all hiding in there? What is wrong with all of you?”
The four of them all got their bearings in place and rose to their feet to meet me head on with grins and smiles.
“What is it now? What do you hope to accomplish by freaking me out like this?”
“Calm down, Grace,” Brandon said in a way that was so annoying it made me wonder if I had ever really liked him.
“Why should I calm down? This is a home invasion or something. This is freaking me out that you’re all acting like this is a joke. I can tell you it is not.”
“We’re acting like this,” Ryan spoke as he placed his hands on my shoulder, “because we all care. We want to know you are okay.”
“And we’re all madly in love with you, hun. There doesn’t seem to be any way to let you know that.”
“I have my reasons for avoiding you,” I shouted back, pushing away Ryan. “Do I need to go get an actual restraining order? I don’t want to, but at this rate, it seems like I need to.”
“You aren’t going to get a restraining order, sweetheart.” Brandon shook his head with an infuriating smile on his face. “You haven’t because you do want us.” Maybe I’d just get the order restraining him.
“You’re all immature teenage boys and...”
“I’m twenty.”
Ryan put a finger to my lips.
“The jig is up, Gray.” Sam stood right in front of me, staring me in the eye. “We know your concerns, Grace. We do. You’re pregnant. You’re worried about how you’re going to be perceived. You’re worried about ruining your mother’s dreams of having that perfect nuclear family. And I, and everyone else, get it.”
“Do you really, though?”
“We do,” Ryan added. “Let’s start with your perfect nuclear family that your mother wants.”
“Poof. Already gone.” Sam waved his hands in the air like he was shooing imaginary creatures away. “Your mother remained a single mother for how many years? Our dad was a single parent too. Them getting married is some sort of Brady Bunch bullshit.”
“What and what now?” Noah raised an eyebrow, eyeing Sam like he was a heathen. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Are you seriously going to tell me I’m the only one who ever watched old sitcoms? Well, damn.” He scratched his head. “Point is, there’s no nuclear family anymore. You’ve got what everyone else has, Grace.”
“Sam’s talking about a blended family,” Ryan explained sagely.
“I am. And family is what you make it.”
“More often than not, a patchwork of people coming together and making something that works,” Noah pitched in.
“Then, I suppose you’re worried about perception. About how people will see you when they have you labeled as a teenage mom with a crowd of men hanging around you.” Brandon stepped toward me.
“That is an important consideration,” I admitted.
“Here’s the thing,” Brandon said as he threw an arm around my shoulder. “Times change. Even remarrying as your parents did? It used to be horribly scandalous. Now? It’s just something that happens. People divorce and remarry. People move on. If people don’t understand us now, someday they will. We shouldn’t let people’s shortsighted foolishness get in the way of establishing the future that we want.”