Not because his words surprised me.
But because they confirmed what I had understood the day I told them about the pregnancy.
They weren’t afraid for me.
They were afraid for themselves.
Six months earlier, I had invited Silvia and Mikhail to lunch.
I prepared their favorite dishes.
Stuffed peppers for Silvia.
Homemade moussaka for Mikhail.
I had bought a strawberry cake because the grandchildren were coming later.
Todor was in Ruse at the time. I still wasn’t ready to tell them about him.
We sat around the dining-room table.
Silvia was telling me about her work. Mikhail was complaining about some renovation at the office.
I looked at my children and thought about how much they had grown.
Then I said:
“I have something to tell you.”
They fell silent.
“I’m pregnant.”
At first, they thought I was joking.
Then they saw my face.
Silvia laughed nervously.
“Mom, that’s not funny.”
“I’m not joking.”
Mikhail went pale.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’m expecting a child.”
