All I Want Is You

“If it’s a boy, do we have to name him Munroe Jackson Rathbone the Sixth?” I asked Jackson between bites of cotton candy flavoured ice cream.

“I don’t know.” He chuckled and shoved his spoon in the carton.

“Hey now. I don’t have much left!” I said, pulling the carton away from him.

“We probably should tell our parents.” He said, suddenly serious.

“Yeah.” I said. It had been a week since we found out. The only people that knew were Rob and Ada. And the doctor we had went to a few days ago. She was pleasant and understanding, and had talked with us after confirming the pregnancy. She said it was very common for women to feel the way I had felt.

I really had no clue how my parents would react. We had never talked about me having kids.

“I’m going to call my parents now.” He said, standing up and rolling his shoulders, as if he was going on to a boxing ring.

“Sure sure, do the easy ones first.” I said, rolling my eyes. Of course we would call his parents first. They would take this so much better than my parents would. I wasn’t so sure about my parents. Well, I wasn’t so sure how my dad would take it.

I heard the phone ringing, and realized he had it on speaker phone. This was normally how we talked to either of our sets of parents.

“Hello?” I heard his mother ask.

“Hi!” We both said at the same time.

“Well it’s nice to hear from you two! How are things?” She asked, cheery as ever.

“Good. We have something to tell you.” Jackson said, getting right into things. I glared at him and mouthed “Not yet!” He just shook his head.

“Is something wrong Jackson?” She asked, worry clouding her voice.

“Not really.” I answered for him.

“Well, someone better tell me what’s going on!” She demanded her voice rising nervously.

“Everything’s okay Mom.” Jackson said. He reached across the sofa where we were sitting and held my hand.

“What did you want to tell me then?” She asked. I could hear she was getting impatient.

“Lizzie’s pregnant.” Jackson said stoically.

“What? Lizzie!?” She said, as if waiting for me to confirm the news.

“Um, yeah. I’m eight weeks. We went to the doctor a few days ago.” My voice was shaking again.

“You aren’t joking are you?” She said.

“No Mom, we aren’t joking.” Jackson said.

“Well I guess congratulations are in order then.” She said, her voice more relaxed.

I took a deep relaxing breath, relieved that Jackson’s mother was accepting.

The next forty-five minutes were spent telling Jackson’s mother about every single thing I had felt the last eight weeks. We left out the part where I ran away. She wanted to know what I was craving, if we wanted to know if it was a boy or a girl and if we had colors picked out for the nursery.

We laughed and answered her questions to the best of our abilities. In truth, we hadn’t thought about any of this. All I thought about lately was who was going to go down the street to get more ice cream or how I was going to fit in the True Religion jeans I had just spent seven hundred dollars on.

When she finally hung up the phone, to go tell Jackson’s dad the good news, I smiled at Jackson before realizing something.

We still had to tell my Dad.