His Best Friend's Sister: A Secret Baby Romance

by Natasha L. Black

  Midnight came and went, and I finished up at the bar shortly after. I wanted to get home to Becca early if possible, and since I worked the lunch shift, I had the right to go home first. We were a little shorthanded, so I stuck around for a few minutes to do some cleaning up to help them close that night and then rolled out.

  A text from Becca came in just as I was getting into my car. It was only a sad-face emoji, and I smiled. It was still something to get used to seeing someone react to my not being there. Other than my brothers, who reacted with impatience when I wasn’t where I was supposed to be, or Nick, who reacted with ever-increasing and creative insults, no one was ever sad not to have me around, much less feel sad about it. I pulled out my phone and rapped off a quick text telling her I would be home soon.

  Pulling into the house, I took a moment to take a deep breath. The conversation had to happen, and it had to happen now. We needed to figure out when we were going to tell people, not just because I was struggling not to let my brothers know, but because I knew now that Nick was going to drive me insane. If he didn’t kill me immediately, he was going to be excited to be an uncle. I hoped he would be excited for me, too. But regardless of how he responded, we needed to face the music. Fast.

  I opened the door to the smell of tacos, and my stomach grumbled. I realized I hadn’t bothered to eat all day, and the cumin and spice smell was intoxicating. I walked in, and Becca looked over her shoulder at me from the stove.

  “Hey, babe,” I said. “Tacos?”

  “Is that not okay?” she asked.

  “Oh, no, it’s amazing,” I said, sliding my arms around her waist and kissing her lips softly. “I’m just surprised your stomach could handle it.”

  “It’s the strangest thing,” she said. “I had toast earlier today, and I thought the butter was going to make my stomach file for independence, but then a couple hours ago I got the biggest craving for spicy tacos. I don’t know why I could handle tacos but not literal bread.”

  “Sounds like someone else is making decisions for you,” I said, pulling her close.

  “Yeah, your little one in there is, and for this one time, I am not going to argue.”

  “Absolutely,” I said. “Perfect choice.”

  I pressed another kiss to her lips and her eyes searched mine.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked. I sighed.

  “Not wrong, really.” I sat down at the kitchen table, and she went back to stirring the meat in the pan. “Nick came into the bar.”

  “Oh, yeah, Nick can never know,” she said.

  I laughed, but she didn’t join me. I turned in my chair and looked at her, but she kept her back to me and stirred the meat.

  “You know that’s not possible, right? Eventually he is going to know. It won’t exactly be easy to hide in a few months.”

  “I know,” she said in a voice that told me she was very reluctantly accepting it, but with reservations. “I just thought maybe we could wait until the second trimester.”

  “Why wait so long?” I asked. “It was killing me not to say anything today, and that’s the first day. The first one. Being around my brothers and not saying anything was difficult as hell but being around Nick and not saying anything just feels like I’m lying through my teeth. I can’t keep that up but for so long.”

  She placed the wooden spatula on the edge of the pan and turned to me. She was clearly upset, and I felt for her. As much as it was driving me insane not to say anything, it was just as hard for her. The only person in either of our lives who knew was Melissa, and while that was her longtime friend, it wasn’t like most people who get to tell the world and be fawned on. She deserved to be fawned on.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I know this is hard for you, too. We can wait until the second trimester. It’s just going to be really hard around your brother.”

  “I know,” she said, looking down at her feet. Suddenly, her phone rang and we both looked at it on the kitchen table. It was well after midnight, but I could see the name on the caller ID. It was her mother.

  “Might want to get that,” I said. “Or else she will assume you ran off with the circus.”

  That seemed to get a giggle from her, and she returned to some of the happiness she had when I first walked in. But the dread in her steps as she walked to her phone was palpable. I stood up and went to the pan to mix the meat while she answered the phone.

  “Hello?” she asked.

  “Becca?” Her mother’s voice came over the speakers as if she were shouting. Becca held the phone away from her ear and squinted one eye.

  “Yes, Mom, I am usually the person answering my phone,” she said.

  “What are you doing awake at this hour?” her mother asked.

  “Talking to you,” Becca said. “You called me, remember.”

  “Of course I called you,” her mother said, and I shut the heat off the stove and checked the timer for the shells in the oven. I could overhear both sides of the conversation behind me, but that didn’t mean I needed to blatantly listen in. “I needed to talk to you about this weekend. I thought you should bring the chips.”

  “What?” Becca asked.

  “For the party, Becca,” her mother said, as if this was a conversation they had been having for days. “Your father’s birthday party.”

  “Oh, that is this weekend,” Becca said, and I turned back to look at her. Her eyes went wide, and she mouthed, “Oh shit,” to which I chuckled.

  “Who is in with you right now?” her mother said. “I heard a man. Are you okay?”

  “It’s Tyler, Mother,” Becca said. “I am fine.”

  “Hi, Mrs. Watson,” I called, and Becca’s smile went from fake to strained.

  “Oh,” I heard her mother say. “At this hour?”

  “Yes, Mother,” Becca said, putting her head in her hands.

  “Well, that seems inappropriate,” Mrs. Watson said. Becca made a frustrated sound and got up to walk out of the room, continuing to talk as she went into the bedroom. I chuckled again and finished off making the tacos before she came back.

  “So, thanks for that.”

  “Sorry,” I said.

  “It’s fine,” she said. “So, Dad is having a birthday party this weekend, and I told her I would only come if you could come, too.”

  “Is that a good idea?” I asked, handing her the plate of tacos. She didn’t wait before sticking one in her mouth and speaking as the shell fell apart and onto the plate.

  “Yes,” she said. “I made them promise to be on their best behavior, and we can leave whenever we want to.”

  “Alright,” I said. “That will work. I’ll make sure to bring the chips.”

  Becca stuck her tongue out at me, and I grabbed her, pulling her in for a kiss while she giggled. When our lips broke apart, I stole a bite of her taco, and she got a shocked expression on her face before chasing me out of the kitchen and into the living room.

  32

  Becca

  “Are you ready?” I asked as I clutched the doorknob of my parents’ front door.

  Tyler nodded and took a deep breath. I took one, too, and turned the knob, swinging the door open to a scene much more raucous than I was expecting. Dad was in the living room, cracking open a beer and toasting a friend of his who sat on the couch. Several other friends were roaming the house, and the barbeque in the back was smoking, Nick with an apron on, fanning the smoke away. Another of Dad’s friends was out there with him, using a towel to fan at the flames, which only made them worse. I could also just barely see into the kitchen where Mom and two of Dad’s friends’ wives were giggling and sipping wine.

  “Becca!” Mom said as she saw me and came walking with her arms outstretched. She didn’t look tipsy just yet, but she was almost there. She pulled me into a hug, and I patted her back. “And Tyler! So good to see you,” she said as she pulled him in for a hug, too. He grinned at me over her shoulder as he patted her back.

  “Good to see you again, too, Mrs. Watso
n,” he said.

  “Oh you stop with that Mrs. Watson stuff,” she said. “Just call me Diana. Or Mom.”

  “Mom!” I said, shocked.

  “What? I’m just trying to be supportive,” she said, grinning and turning away from us to head back to the kitchen. We followed behind waving at Dad’s friends as they passed. Dad had disappeared onto the back porch to join the firefighting attempt.

  “What’s going on out there?” Tyler asked. “Should I go help?”

  “No, no,” Mom said, waving them off. “Your brother just burned some tilapia. I keep telling him he can’t cook fish to save his life, but he keeps trying. Good thing I have potato salad.”

  She turned suddenly, holding the bowl out to me, and I felt my stomach do a flip. I put up my hand and stopped her.

  “No, thanks,” I said. “Maybe in a little bit. We just had a little lunch.”

  “We did?” Tyler mumbled beside me, and I elbowed him in the rib. I didn’t think Mom heard him over the sound of motherly disappointment causing an audible whimpering sound at my refusal.

  “Well,” she said, sitting the bowl back down, “it’s here when you want it. Can I get you a glass of wine? Tyler, they have beer in a cooler on the porch.”

  “I’ll just have a water, actually. I’m parched,” I said.

  “Oh,” Mom said and turned to grab a glass. “Here you go, honey.” She filled the glass with water from the filter on the tap and handed it to me. A thin smile spread across her face, and she kissed my cheek. “I had better go check on your father and brother and let them know you’re here.”

  As she walked away, I sipped my water and my stomach settled a bit. The potato salad was out, but the herb crackers on the plate beside it were fair game, and I dug into a few of them. Tyler followed Mom outside, and I watched through the glass door as he shook hands with both Nick and my father. Dad offered him a beer, and he cracked it open, clinking cans with Dad before Dad walked back inside. I walked over to hug him.

  “Happy Birthday, Daddy,” I said, squeezing him.

  “Thank you, darling,” he said. “How are you and Tyler getting along?”

  “Really good,” I said, surprised. “I thought you were against us dating?”

  “I am for you being safe and happy,” he said. “But you are an adult and can make decisions for yourself. As long as you are okay, then I guess I’m okay.”

  My heart filled, and I wrapped him in a hug again, nearly spilling the water down his shirt. He patted my back and kissed the top of my head before going into the kitchen and making excuses as to why he absolutely needed to make a sandwich. None of which included his son butchering the tilapia that he was still outside mourning.

  The party continued on, and things were going well. Mom eventually made the executive decision to call for a few pizzas, which Dad was excited about. When they arrived, we all tucked in to eat around the dining room table. Nick sat across from Tyler, and they seemed to be getting along like old times, and Mom and Dad were handling him being there with me, holding my hand or kissing my head occasionally just fine. I was beginning to feel a kernel of hope that maybe, if I just gave it a little bit of time, the news of our impending family addition would go over well.

  I just needed a little bit of time.

  The cake and presents portion of the party came next, and Dad was over the moon that he got the same cake he got every year. It always amazed me that he seemed to think that Mom would just randomly change up on him one year and not bring him the cookies-and-cream ice cream cake. The delighted sound he made when he saw it in front of him was worth it, though, and I smiled as he cut into it and handed out slices.

  “Is there anything you need?” I asked Tyler as I stood and put my napkin on the table. “I’m going to run to the ladies’ room and grab another water.”

  “No, I’m fine,” Tyler said. “Thank you, though.”

  “I could use another beer,” Nick said, grinning. I turned a sour look at him, and he laughed. “What? If you’re offering…”

  “Uh-huh,” I said and left.

  When I got back to the kitchen, Mom joined me and looked over her shoulder at the dining room before getting close.

  “Hey, honey,” she said. “I have a question for you.”

  “Sure, Mom, what is it?”

  “How long have you known?” she asked.

  My heart dropped. My vision narrowed, going blurry at the edges, and I clasped the counter with one hand and the glass with the other so hard I thought it would break. I felt my smile fall, and I rallied, plastering it back into place and shaking the panicking feeling coming up my spine away.

  “Like about how much I love Tyler?” I asked. “I guess I’ve known for a long time, really, but it didn’t sink in until…”

  I was babbling, and Mom waved me off. My words petered off and fell away lamely.

  “I mean about the baby,” she said.

  My jaw opened and shut a few times, and I moved the glass back to the counter so I wouldn’t drop it to the ground. I tried to force myself to breathe, but it wasn’t working terribly well. Mom, for her part, didn’t seem angry. Concerned maybe, but not angry. She took a big gulp of her wine and grabbed the bottle, filling her glass halfway again.

  “How did you know?” I asked.

  “Oh, honey,” she said. “It wasn’t that hard. You refused alcohol and potato salad. And you love potato salad.”

  “I do,” I whined. “Usually I do. It’s always my favorite thing you make, but I just couldn’t eat it.”

  “Because of the baby,” Mom said, leading me. I nodded. “Oh, honey,” she said, pulling me in for a hug. I felt like crying but tried to hold it back. The last thing I needed was to become a blubbering mess and alert everyone to my situation in the middle of Dad’s birthday celebration. Mom patted my back, and I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye as she let me go. “How long have you known?”

  “A couple weeks,” I said, “I didn’t want to say anything about it yet because it’s so new with him, and I knew everyone might feel awkward, and…” I didn’t get the rest of it out before Mom was hugging me again. I let a few tears fall but rallied again and shook it off.

  “It’s okay, honey,” Mom said. “I understand not telling everyone immediately. But you and Tyler are okay?”

  “Yes,” I said, a smile stretching across my face. “He’s so excited. It’s killing him not to tell anyone.”

  “Well,” Mom asked, “when do you plan on telling Nick?”

  “Tell Nick what?” a voice came from behind me. I turned, feeling like everything was going in slow motion. Nick stood in the doorway; his eyebrow cocked.

  “Oh, just tell him, Becca,” she said. “He’s going to find out sooner or later.”

  “Nothing,” I said, but my voice came out as a whisper. I tried to force the words to come out again, stronger, but even less sound came.

  “For heaven’s sake,” Mom said behind me. “She’s pregnant. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  There was a lilt to her voice like she was trying to convince Nick to act like it was. I knew better than that. Nick wasn’t that easily manipulated. Instead, there were a few seconds of silence while his eyes burned into mine.

  “Becca?” he asked, his voice gravelly and low. “Is this true?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  Nick took off, and I reached out to grab him but missed. He was already halfway to the dining room. The next few seconds were a blur of sound and motion and chaos. Nick walked right up to Tyler, who turned to him smiling. Then, Nick punched him directly in the face. Tyler fell backward a bit and jumped out of the chair. A bunch of yelling followed, and some of Dad’s friends got between Tyler and Nick, pushing Tyler back toward me and closer to the door.

  “What the fuck, man?” Tyler yelled.

  “That’s my baby sister,” Nick screamed. “You knocked up my baby sister!”

  Dad’s eyes were wild and round as he looked between the two of us and then to Tyler. “
You’re pregnant, Becca?”

  “Everyone needs to calm down,” Mom said from the corner. “This is wonderful news.”

  “The hell it is,” Nick said, lunging at Tyler again. Suddenly, Dad was standing, too, and two of his friends were holding him back. He was shouting and the words mixed with Nick and Tyler and all the people trying to calm them that I couldn’t make them out. Instead, I pulled on Tyler, trying to get him to the door.

  “Come on, Tyler, please,” I said.

  “Fine,” Tyler said, grabbing his jacket and turning to the door. I followed him, looking back one last time at the tableau of my family and Dad’s friends in the dining room, paused as they watched us leave. My father and Nick were seething, breathing heavily. I slammed the door behind me, and tears streamed down my cheeks as I ran to Tyler’s car.

  33

  Tyler

  The ride home was silent, but I held her hand the entire time. I wanted her to know that while I was angry, it wasn’t at her. I reached out to her over the center console, and she placed her fingers in mine. I squeezed them but kept my eyes on the road. I didn’t want to talk yet. The words that were bubbling up in my chest were ones I might not be able to take back. And definitely ones I didn’t want her hearing me say about her family. Especially when I might not really mean them.

  The most important thing to me was that she knew who I was mad at. It all began and ended with Nick. Even her father got a pass from me since his initial reaction would be to protect his children, and if Nick was angry, he would jump to his defense. I got that. Becca stayed silent, either her head in her free hand or looking out the window as a light drizzling rain began to fall. When we made it back to the house, I lifted her hand to kiss it and then let her go so I could get out.