If I Tell

dread in my throat. Had she found out? I closed my eyes for a second, bracing myself for a tough conversation.
    “I’m pregnant,” she said.
    I opened my eyes. “What?”
    She giggled. “Pregnant.”
    Glass tinkled in the background. A shout of laughter erupted from the group of girls at the joined tables. I blinked, thrown completely off guard.
    “What do you mean?” I wished I could be teleported to an alternate universe where none of this was happening.
    “I think you know what I mean.” Her smile wobbled. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
    Pregnant? I coughed. This made things worse. Much, much worse. She frowned. Waiting for me to say something. Anything.
    “No. It’s…um, you don’t look pregnant,” I managed.
    She wiggled in her chair. “Actually I do.” She stood up and turned sideways, thrusting out her belly and placing her hand on it. Two older men at the table beside us studied her belly too. It did stick out. A small bulge where months before it had been perfectly flat in a bikini.
    I shot death rays at the men, who quickly looked away.
    She sat down. “I’m almost five months already. Look at me. I should have known, but I’m so irregular. And my sex drive is fine.”
    She smiled apologetically as my cheeks reddened and I glanced at the table beside us, knowing the men could hear.
    “Sorry,” she said. “Too much info, right?”
    “Way too much.” Images flashed in my head. “Simon’s sex drive seems fine too,” I mumbled.
    “What?” Her smile vanished, and I saw how her lipstick was bleeding over her top lip. She didn’t look so perfect anymore.
    I thought about shoving my fist down my throat. “I’m just shocked. You know?” My attempt at a laugh rang feeble and insincere. “You’re kind of old to be pregnant.” It sounded mean even to my ears, but I couldn’t take it back. There was so much that couldn’t be taken back.
    She forced a smile. “I’m not that old. And hey, you’ll be a big sister. It’ll be fun.”
    “Yeah. Fun.” I choked on a bitter laugh. “At least the baby will be half black. People might believe I’m actually related to someone in the family now.”
    I glanced around the café, wishing someone would come and interrupt us, wishing Jackson would accidentally start a fire behind the counter, anything to get me away from this conversation with my mom. When my gaze returned to her face, I winced at the need in her eyes. As if she wanted my approval. Needed it. “When did you find out?” I asked, my voice weak and crackling as I tried to sound like I was happy for her.
    “Yesterday. At my physical. When I couldn’t remember when I’d had my last period, my doctor insisted on a test. Voilà! Pregnant.”
    “How’s Simon taking it?” I asked, chewing on my lip. I already had a pretty good idea.
    Mom played with her hair, a hint of a giggle back on her lips. “I think it kind of freaked him out. That’s what I get for dating a younger man.” She lifted her shoulder and took a quick sip of her decaf and then put the mug down.
    “He went out last night with his brother. To celebrate.” She made air quote marks with her fingers. “He was hung over and snoring in bed when I went to work this morning.” She looked down, tracing a finger along the rim of her mug. “He hasn’t gotten drunk in a long time. I guess he just needed to deal with the news.”
    “I guess he did.” My voice cracked again at the end of the sentence.
    She glanced up. “It’s no big deal. He’s not usually a big drinker.”
    Which was a good thing, apparently.
    She folded a hand across her belly, oblivious to the thoughts bouncing around in my head.
    “Anyhow, he’ll be a great dad. I know he will. Once he’s used to the idea. He likes kids. ”
    Yeah. I’ve seen that too.
    She crossed her legs and leaned back, and I noticed the men watching her with matching expressions of disappointment and openly eavesdropping on our conversation now.
    “I’m already past the worst part of pregnancy, and I didn’t even know it. How funny is that?”
    “Hilarious. Hey, I know. Maybe I’ll get pregnant too. You could be a pregnant grandma. Now that would be funny.”
    “Jaz.” She uncrossed her leg and then glared at the men, not as unaware of them as she’d pretended to be. They quickly concentrated on their coffee.
    “I thought you’d be a little happier, you know? You and Simon are friends. He’ll be like a stepdad now.”
    A wave of