For a long moment, I just stared at him, not knowing how I should answer.
“Please?” Mom’s soft voice echoed through my ears.
My eyes danced from one parent to the other, and my heart started beating faster. I had simply had enough and couldn’t take any more for one day. There was only one way to get myself out of here without further inquiries, discussions, tears, and apologies.
Okay,” I said quietly, “I’ll be there.”
*****
“I don’t have anything to wear,” Tria announced.
“You have a ton of clothes,” I told her.
“None of them fit!”
“They fit last week!”
“What are you saying?” she snapped back.
I mumbled something too low for anyone to hear or understand—myself included—and quickly hid in the bathroom.
Tria was less than a month away from her due date and just sick to death of being pregnant. I mentioned that there were only a few weeks left, thinking she would feel better, and I just about lost a limb. I won’t even mention what happened when I suggested she be a pumpkin for Halloween. For the most part, I was now afraid to say anything, but we were already late to Michael’s Sunday dinner.
I peed, splashed cold water on my face, and tiptoed back toward the bedroom. Tria was sitting on the edge of the bed with a dress in her hand and tears running down her face.
My chest hurt just seeing her like that.
Walking over quietly, I knelt down in front of her and took her hands in mine. I rubbed the edged of her thumbs as she gripped the material of the dress.
“What’s wrong, babe?”
“I hate this,” she whispered. “I’m tired of feeling like this, and you’ve got to be sick to death of me.”
She sniffed, and I reached up to wipe away tears.
“I’m not,” I said. “You’re pissy, and you have every reason to be. I did this to you, so of course you’re going to take it out on me.”
Shit—shouldn’t have said it like that.
Tria glanced at me but then looked down at our hands again. She twisted our fingers around each other and sighed heavily, so I must not have made too big of a verbal blunder. At least, it wasn’t bad enough that she was going to smack me or anything.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t mean to…”
Her voice trailed off, and a fresh tear rolled down her face.
“Hey…” I reached up and took her face in my hands. I had to raise myself up on my knees to be able to reach around her stomach, but then I could almost look her in the eye. “I love you. Soon it will be over, and we’ll have a baby to complain about.”
I smiled, but the smile I got back wasn’t very convincing.
“Want me to cancel dinner?” I asked.
“No,” she muttered. “It’s the first time you’ve really been with everybody. I don’t want to ruin that.”
“You aren’t ruining anything,” I countered. “You know I’ve been having second, third, and fourth thoughts about this. An excuse would be great.”
“Not going to get out of it that easy,” Tria said. “Besides, I’m the one who can’t eat any of that stuff their cook makes. It’s all so heavy, and I end up with heartburn.”
“How about we tell them we’ll show up for dessert, and we can just make something here to eat? Maybe just a salad or soup? That way you don’t have to get dressed up or anything.”