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For weeks, I’d pictured Connor beside me when the balloon popped, both of us finding out together.
We’d been outside for maybe two minutes when I glanced through the window.
Molly had the balloon.
“She means well.”
My whole body went hot.
“Connor.”
He followed my stare.
“No. Mom, no!” he shouted.
She was already turning toward the garage.
“Molly!”
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“No. Mom, no!”
We ran inside.
By the time we reached the hallway, the garage door had slammed shut.
Connor grabbed the handle.
It was locked.
“Mom, open the door!”
I hit it with my palm.
It was locked.
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“Molly, don’t do this. That’s our moment.”
Then came the pop.
Connor turned toward me.
“Shannon.”
I looked at him.
“She actually did it.”
“Molly, don’t do this. That’s our moment.”
Before he could answer, the door flew open.
Molly stumbled into the hallway, blue confetti clinging to her sweater.
Seeing it there was how I found out.
Blue.
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We were having a boy.
The door flew open.
I hadn’t found out with Connor standing beside me as we’d planned. I’d found out from confetti stuck to his mother’s sweater.
But then I saw Molly’s face, and my anger shifted.
