“Apparently, it wasn’t as effective as we thought.”
Maribel covered her mouth. “We were scared. Embarrassed.
We panicked. We avoided you because we didn’t want to say the wrong thing.”
Suddenly, everything that had felt mysterious or sinister, the locked guest room, the strange emojis, the missed calls, clicked into place with startling clarity. They weren’t avoiding us.
They weren’t hiding something awful. They were expecting a baby. Julian’s anger melted into stunned disbelief.
He sat heavily on the sofa. “Mom… Dad… you could have just told us.”
Maribel’s voice cracked. “We weren’t sure how you’d react.
We didn’t want you to think we were taking attention away from your baby. We didn’t want to overshadow your joy.”
I stepped forward, reaching into my purse. “Here,” I murmured.
I pulled out the tiny turkey onesie we had planned to give them earlier that day. Maribel stared at it. “W–what is…?”
Her hands flew to her mouth as tears spilled over. “You’re— You’re expecting?”
I nodded, laughing softly through my own tears. Clark sat down beside Julian and pulled him into a tight embrace.
“You’re going to be a dad. And I’m going to be… well… a dad again.”
We all laughed, then awkward, emotional, relieved laughter filled the room, and finally broke the tension that had swallowed us whole for months. Maribel led us down the hall to the locked guest room.
She pulled a small key from her pocket and opened the door. Inside was a fully decorated nursery. A crib with soft yellow bedding.
Shelves filled with tiny folded clothes. A rocking chair. A box of diapers.
Even a stuffed giraffe sitting proudly in the corner. “We’ve been preparing,” she said softly. “We just… weren’t ready to talk about it.”
“You didn’t have to hide this.”
“We didn’t want to confuse or upset anyone,” Clark admitted. “We weren’t sure how the family would react to… well… all of this.”
Julian shook his head. “We’re family.
We react together. You should have trusted us.”
Maribel began crying openly now, and I pulled her into a hug. “We love you,” I whispered.
“And we’re happy for you. Truly.”
The rest of the night felt like a celebration disguised as a family emergency. Maribel brought out sparkling cider, and we toasted to the two surprise babies who would soon join our family.
At one point, Julian turned to her with a grin. “So… joint baby shower?”
Maribel laughed a real laugh this time, bright and warm. “Only if I can make the cake shaped like a spaghetti emoji.”
We all burst into hysterical laughter, and Clark nearly choked on his cider.
As the night wound down and we settled around the living room, Maribel reached across the couch and took my hand. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “We shouldn’t have pushed you away.
I should have trusted you with the truth.”
“You’re forgiven,” I said. “But next time, no mysterious boxes on holidays.”
She chuckled. “Deal.”
Julian leaned over and kissed my forehead.
“This is going to be one crazy family.”
I looked around the room at Maribel wiping her cheeks, at Clark humming as he cleaned up the mugs, at the soft glow of the Christmas lights they’d already hung. It was chaotic. Unexpected.
Emotional. But it was full of love. Thanksgiving hadn’t gone the way we planned.
It went better. In its own strange, twist-filled way, it brought us closer than ever, reminding us that families aren’t held together by perfection, but by honesty, forgiveness, and the willingness to show up for one another, even when life surprises us. And ours, messy, emotional, expanding rapidly, was about to grow in more ways than we ever imagined.
