One of Those Nights

Mila's phone vibrating against the oak wood of her bedside table snapped her out of her thoughts.

She hurried herself over to the device from the mirror placed in her adolescent bedroom where she had been once-overing her outfit choice, occasionally groaning at her bloated stomach from a side on view.

'Im just 'round the corner,’ the message read.

Mila slipped her phone into the back pocket of her jeans and scooped up her Céline handbag, throwing it over her shoulder as she sped down the stairs of her parents' San Diego home and into the kitchen. She then made her way to the refrigerator where she had stored a cake she had prepared the night prior.

"Darling, where are you off to?"

Mila looked up from the refrigerator and to her mother, Eleanor, who stood before, a bunch fresh peonies she had harvested from her garden in hand.

"Mike's," Mila simply said, biting her lip. "He invited me over for a family lunch."

"You're spending quite a bit of time with this boy, Mila. When will we get to meet him?" She questioned, setting the peonies down on the kitchen island, fishing for a vase.

Eleanor was such a prim and proper type of woman. She was a nurse and had a lovely nature, to say the least. Mila was absolutely dreading the day when she'd have to break the news of her pregnancy to her.

"I dunno, mom," Mila sighed reaching for the Tupperware container. "Soon."

Mila's mother then moved to the kitchen sink, filling the vase with tap water.

"Will you be home for dinner?"

"Maybe. I'll call you," she rushed, kicking the door of the fridge closed with her foot. "Love you, bye!"

Mila's mother rolled her eyes but let out a small laugh.

"To be young," she muttered to herself as Mila headed out of the kitchen and to the front door.

Like Mila had expected, Mike was already parked on the street waiting for her.

Reaching his car, she waited for him as he graciously leaned over the centre console and pushed the passenger door open for her with the tips of his fingers.

"Thanks," she spoke gently, hopping inside of the car.

"What took you so long?" Mike questioned as she closed the door shut and adjusted her seatbelt, maneuvering it around the Tupperware container on her lap.

"Good morning to you too."

He adjusted the volume of the stereo so it was at a mere lull and then took a quick look at the object on her lap.

"What's that you got there?"

Mila slightly shrugged as the seatbelt made a click and Mike performed a U-turn.

"I baked a cake last night. For your family," she said coyly. "You mentioned your mom liking red velvet cake when you took me for a red velvet cupcake after our appointment yesterday. Hopefully she likes this one."

Mike smiled. "Serious? You made that? My mom is going to love you, you big suck up."

Mila let out an almost childish snigger knowing that there was a little bit of truth to Mike's comment. All she wanted was Mike's mom and the rest of his family to like and accept her.

"You look nice by the way. Did your cravings stop last night after our cupcake stop?"

"Thanks, Mike. And no, they didn't," she rolled her eyes, slightly irked at herself. "I'm going to look like the side of a house if I don't start getting myself into a pregnancy-friendly workout program or something," she exaggerated. "I looked into the mirror today and I'm starting to get a gut."

Mike grinned. "That's normal! We have to start taking photos of your progress."

"Do we have to?"

"Weekly," he noted sternly. "We have to start taking photos each week."

"You're really excited about this baby huh?" Mila smiled. "I must admit, you've surprised me a little."

Mike shrugged his shoulders, keeping one hand on the wheel and one relaxed by his side as they made their way through early morning Sunday traffic.

"It is what it is, Mils. I'll be honest with you though. I spent the whole week after you had told me that you were pregnant in my room, hiding away from the world," he admitted.

His voice was low and in that moment Mila couldn't help but reach for his free hand and hold it in hers. She had been wanting to do just that since leaving the doctors surgery yesterday. It was like a natural reaction — one that took Mike by surprise but in the same token, elated him.

"Vic noticed my change in mood," he continued. "I didn't want to leave the apartment and I didn't even feel like eating. So I told him."

"Yeah?"

Mike nodded. "Immediately he told me I needed to tell mom and dad. And well, I did."

"What did they say?"

"They were indifferent at first. Slightly disappointed..." Mike frowned. "But when I told them that we planned on sticking by each other, despite our situation, they helped me through it a lot. Trust me Mils, once you tell your parents and they're on board, it will be like this huge weight has been lifted off of your shoulders. And when that weight has been lifted off, you'll be able to focus on the baby."

Mila took a deep breath, still holding onto Mike's hand.

"My parents are different, Mike. I know this isn't going to sit well with them. Yours sound so understanding though."

Mike squeezed her hand tightly. "It'll be fine."

She smiled weakly noticing the song playing softly over the speakers of Mike's car. It was Third Eye Blinds, 'Never Let You Go’, a personal favourite of hers.

Immediately, she freed her hand from his and turned up the ballad.

"I love this song," she gushed, unintentionally changing the subject.

"No way. You're a Third Eye Blind fan? I wouldn't of picked it."

Mila nodded in an enthusiastic manner. "This entire album reminds me of high school and being sixteen again."

Mike started tapping his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat.

"We went to the same high school, right?"

She nodded. "Mission Bay."

"They say that by the age of sixteen you've already met the person you're going to marry. I wonder if we met without knowing."

Mila shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

It wasn't that she didn't want to marry Mike, nor was it that she did — because honestly, she didn't know what she wanted — it was that she couldn't help but feel suffocated by how fast he was moving.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath. "I'm sorry Mils, I didn't mean for it to come out like tha-"

"It's fine, Mike," she smiled reassuringly.

It wasn't fine, but she wasn't going to admit that. Today she was meeting his family and the last thing she wanted to do was cause tension between the two.

"Who knows? Maybe we did meet."

"Maybe," Mike spoke as he bit on his bottom lip, scanning his eyes over the dash as he attempted to find a parking spot. "God damn," he cursed. "You'd think they'd leave me a spot, especially that asshole of Vic. This will have to do," he concluded as he curb side parked between two other cars, only just fitting.

He then looked over at Mila who was tapping her finger against the plastic of the Tupperware in an anxious manner

"You need to relax, Mils."

She nodded before opening the door of Mike's car. She was surprised she didn't trip to the curb as she exited the vehicle for how nervous she had become.

Mike too hopped out of the car and began walking ahead of her, adjusting his hat and pulling his jeans up.

"Mike, wait up," she called after him.

He turned on his heel to face her as she caught up.

"Let me take that," he said taking the container off of her hands.

"Aren't you supposed to pre-warn me on things your parents do and don’t like? Like, 'Make sure you don't cross your knife and fork at the dinner table because that really grinds my dads gears’, or, 'Make sure you help my mom with the dishes because she likes tha-'"

But Mike cut her off by placing both of his calloused hands on either side of her peachy cheeks, pressing a swift but sweet kiss on her lips. He then guffawed momentarily.

"I don't need to warn you about anything, Mils. My family is going to love you, just the way you are, little darlin'."

Her tummy did flips at the sound of the nickname he had given her.

'Little darlin',' she repeated to herself in her head.

She liked that.