“Sally,” my father says. “Emily’s arrived.” She turns down the TV and looks over at me with a smile.
“Hi, Mom.” I grab Evan’s hand and walk toward her. She seems as if she’s in good spirits today, which helps calm my nerves. It would’ve made things real awkward otherwise. Though Evan knows our history, I was hoping the first time they met would be a positive experience.
“This must be Evan Bishop,” she says. “The man who’s stolen my little girl’s heart.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Evan confirms, smiling.
“And he’s polite too.” She glances over at me. “Come here.” She pats the seat next to her on the couch.
I go to her and sit. Looking at my stomach, she smiles. “How far along are you now?”
“Almost eighteen weeks,” I say.
“When are you due?” she asks.
“End of March.”
This all feels really awkwar
