Letting Go (Thatch 1)

“Are you pregnant?” Dad asked suddenly, and I jerked back in my chair.

“What? No!”

“Now, I’ve been telling you to use protection,” Mom chimed in as she walked closer to us from the stove, and Dad’s mouth snapped shut as he turned to look at her.

“What? You’ve been what?” Dad looked back at me, and I watched as his face quickly turned red. “You’ve been—you and—that’s it! I don’t want you going over there anymore; if Jagger wants to see you, he can come here under my supervision.”

“Dad,” I groaned, and Mom clucked her tongue.

“Honey, don’t be absurd. This isn’t the 1800s.” After rolling her eyes at my dad, Mom turned back to me. “Now, Grey, I’ve told you countless times, and I’ve asked if you had protection. You could’ve talked to me and we could have prevented this.”

“Mom, I’m not—”

“Young lady, you are grounded.”

“Dad, I’m not—”

“How could you go and get pregnant?” he demanded.

“You’re pregnant!” Graham roared seconds before the front door slammed shut and he stormed into the kitchen. “Hell no. Where is he?”

“I’m not pregnant!” I yelled over everyone as Mom started trying to calm down Graham, and Dad started lecturing me. “And why are you even here?” I asked, looking up at Graham.

“I’m hungry and have no food in the house,” he said with a shrug as he walked toward the pantry.

“Graham, I was thinking about Melissa Davis. She’s such a lovely—”

“Mom, I’m not here to talk to you about which girls you think I should settle down with. Besides, we have bigger shit to talk about if Grey’s knocked up.”

“Oh my God, for the last time—” I started, but Dad turned his anger on Graham.

“We do not use that language in this house!”

“Since when?” Graham countered.

“Since right now! Too much sin happening here.”

“Please.” Graham snorted and sidestepped Mom when she walked up to him from the opposite side of the kitchen with a piece of paper in her hands. “Mom, I don’t want to know which girls you want me to date.”

“But they’re all so—”

“I’m moving in with Jagger!”

Everyone stopped and looked at me with wide eyes before they erupted again.

“Like hell you are!” Graham shouted, and waved off my mom as she tried to hand him the paper again.

“You are grounded! You are grounded twice over. You aren’t leaving your room until you’re forty.”

“Dad! I almost got married two years ago, you can’t act like this now!”

“But we weren’t going to let you move in with Ben before you got married,” Mom said calmly as she stuffed the piece of paper in Graham’s hand and moved away from him.

“You are not moving in with him, because you’re not married,” Dad continued, and I watched as Graham tore up the paper and threw it in the trash.

“Fine. Then we’ll elope.”

As if having two of them yelling their displeasure with the conversation wasn’t bad enough, having my mom join in on it had a headache from hell forming.