Chapter 48 Desiree Dixon

I Have Some News

We spend Asher’s birthday at my apartment. We pack a little to start the process of moving me out of here, we look up houses in Vegas, we order food from my favorite places, we laugh, and we get naked. A lot. Lots of naked time when Addy is at work, and again when Addy is starting to bring some of her stuff over to Chloe and Lauren’s place.

Asher has to head home for practice when he should’ve been there today, but he’ll be back in town this weekend since the Aces are playing the Storm. My mom will be in town, but she’s staying at the home they didn’t sell when they moved to Vegas so they’d always have their home here in San Diego.

And then next week, I’ll be moving to Vegas.

It’s still a little surreal, and I still haven’t told my parents.

Maybe I’ll get up the nerve this weekend, but I have a feeling they’re going to have about a million questions, and I’m not sure I’m prepared to answer any of them.

Because the charity ball is getting closer. Because I need to be in town to manage the auction items.

Because I want to be close to my baby daddy, and oh, by the way, I’m pregnant.

Yeah…I’m not ready for that.

Christmas is less than three weeks away, so I do a little online shopping from the comfort of home, I watch the Aces roll over the Storm at the Storm’s home stadium, and I head out to dinner on Sunday night after the game with both my parents.

“I have some news,” I say, clearing my throat after we’re seated.

A shudder runs through me.

I have multiple pieces of news, but the thought of telling them the biggest one brings back a brand-new bout of nausea.

I’m not ready for that.

They’re both staring at me as those thoughts run rampant through my mind.

“Is everything okay?” my dad asks, and God, it feels so wrong to keep such a big thing from them.

“Everything’s fine,” I say with a smile that I have to force. Is it fine? Will it ever really be fine again, or was Asher right about my father potentially writing me off for going against his wishes?

He wouldn’t do that. I know football is his life, but I’m his world…like my own baby will be for me.

But then there’s people in the world like Eddie Nash who abandon their kids and pay off their mother, and, oh my God, is Asher going to be like that? Does the apple fall far from the tree?

I can’t imagine a world where he would be, but for a minute there, I couldn’t imagine a world where he’d walk away from me…and then he did.

“Are you okay?” my mom asks, studying me.

“I’m getting over a stomach bug,” I say a little weakly.

“Still? I thought you were quiet at the game. Is that why?” she asks.

I nod. “Yeah, I think so.”

“What’s the news?” my dad asks.

“I decided to move to Vegas after all,” I blurt.

My mom gasps, and the server chooses that moment to take our drink order. I skip over the alcohol as my parents order champagne to celebrate, but they don’t question my choice because of the stomach bug thing.

“Oh, I’m so thrilled!” my mom gushes.

“What made you change your mind?” my dad asks.

I lift a shoulder. “We’re six months out from the charity ball, and I need to be closer to manage the auction items and help Erin with some other tasks.” I wonder if I can talk her into giving me Asher’s foundation as one of my first tasks aside from the ball.

I wonder if I can talk to Ellie and admit the truth. She represents him, and as one of her clients, maybe she’d have some ideas to help us manage our relationship.

I make a mental note to ask Asher his opinion on that.

I need to stop saying his name in my head while I’m sitting at the table with my parents before it slips out of my mouth.

“What other tasks for Erin?” my dad asks.

“Oh, I don’t know. She mentioned some different player foundations and things like that.” I keep my tone schooled so as not to raise any suspicion, and I think it works.

“Will you still work for Angelica?” my mom asks.

“I’ve actually thought a lot about that, and I think I’m going to part ways with her when I move.” I haven’t told her that yet, and I also haven’t mentioned that I’m moving. But I have so few tasks with her these days that I’m sure it won’t come as a shock.

“Where are you looking to live?” my dad asks. “We know the good areas now if you need any help.”

“I think I’d like to be close to the Complex,” I say.

We chat about where I should live all through dinner, and the next weekend, I find myself pulling into my parents’ driveway in Vegas with my California plates on my Mercedes.

I gifted Addy with the furniture and a contact who will help her sell it if she chooses to, and my parents paid for a moving company to move the rest of my stuff here.

And that’s it. I cried when I said goodbye to my friends, and then I drove by myself to Vegas on a Saturday so I could attend tomorrow’s home game.

It’s all a bit surreal to me as I get out of the front seat and draw in a deep breath of dry desert air. This is home now.

Well, this is home for the next few days until I settle on a place of my own, and on Monday I’ll be touring potential new homes with my mom and her realtor, Joyce.

It’s getting harder and harder to keep this secret from her, though. And to be honest, I don’t want to keep it from her.

But I can’t tell her and expect her to keep it from my dad, and I’m not ready for him to know yet.

Still, I have questions. Lots of them. The kind you want to ask your mom as you go through something she went through about twenty-six years ago.

I’m ten weeks pregnant when Christmas comes, and as we open gifts by the fireplace, even though it’s in the seventies outside, I count my blessings.

But later, when my dad pours eggnog and adds the traditional brandy to it, a drink we’ve laughed over annually since I turned twenty-one—or nineteen, if nobody’s counting—I freeze.

It slipped my mind that he’d want to share a glass with me, and I’m not sure how to decline. I don’t have the stomach bug anymore. I’ve been eating like a horse all day.

I hand my glass to my mom as if I’m passing it over, and my dad moves to pour a third.

I can fake it, or I can fess up.

I hold up a hand. “I, uh…I don’t want any,” I say.

My dad’s brows furrow. “It’s tradition, Desi-Doo.”

“I know…I just, uh—”

They both look at me expectantly, and the longer the pause is drawn out, the longer I fight with myself over what to say next, the more they start piecing it together.

“Wait a minute,” my mom says, narrowing her eyes at me. “You didn’t have a drink when we went to dinner after the Storm game. You said you had a stomach bug…”

I glance over at her with guilt in my eyes.

“Oh my God,” she murmurs, her hands moving to her mouth.

“What? What’s going on?” my dad asks, and I’m reminded of the keys he can’t find when they’re right there in his hand.

“Are you?” my mom asks.

“Is she what?” my dad asks.

I close my eyes and nod my head. “Yes,” I whisper.

My mom screams. Legit. She screams.

“What the hell is going on?” my dad asks, still clueless.

“She’s having a baby, Bill,” my mom says, and she rushes toward me to hug me.

“She’s having a what ?” my dad thunders, but my mom ignores him as she squeezes me.

“How are you feeling? Are you okay? When is she coming? Who’s the—”

“Mom!” I interrupt before she gets that last question out. I draw in a breath as I pull out of our hug and hold my mom at arm’s length. “I’m ten weeks and due in July. I feel mostly good, but it’s true I thought I had a stomach bug when this all started. And I’m not quite ready to answer any more questions. I wasn’t planning to tell you yet. It’s still so early.”

“Oh, I’m going to be a grandma!” my mom squeals, and I’m happy she’s so excited. It makes me feel excited, too.

On the other hand, my dad sounds pretty damn angry.

“Who is the father?” my dad asks thickly. “Who did this to you?”

“Nobody did this to me, Dad,” I say quietly.

“Then why won’t you tell us who it is?”

I draw in a breath. “It’s complicated.”

“Screw complicated, he got you pregnant and isn’t even around. I’ll find out who it is, and he will pay for leaving you,” he hisses.

“Dad, that’s not what happened,” I say, my tone full of desperation. “It’s not like he ditched me. We’re taking things slow, that’s all.” I need to protect Asher. I’m so scared he’s going to run again, and if I tell my dad without giving him a warning, that’ll be his out. I wouldn’t blame him for taking it.

I need to get over this fear. He promised me he wasn’t going to leave again, especially not now that I’m pregnant, but trying to move on from him was harder than I expected it to be.

Maybe because I was carrying a part of him all along that I didn’t even know about until three weeks ago.

I can’t go through it again.

“Having a baby with another person is not taking things slow,” he says, his jaw clenched.

“I realize that, but like I said…it’s complicated. Can we just enjoy the rest of our day celebrating Christmas together for the last time as a family of three?” I’ve been thinking about it all day. Next Christmas, if all goes well, I’ll have a five-month-old. And Asher…will he still be in the picture?

I can’t imagine not having him by my side a year from now, but we have a whole hell of a lot to get through before we get to that point.

Admitting the truth. Having a baby. Who knows what else is in the cards for us?

All I know is that right now, I can’t tell my dad the truth. I need to let Asher finish out the season as he finds his footing with my dad.

My dad, the man who was always the most important man in my life.

My dad…the man who quietly sets down his full glass of eggnog and brandy and walks out of the room without another word as he processes the announcement I just dropped on him.