rootbeer float

October 14, 2086. Aliyah Sylvester is 26. Raymond is 59, Deirdre is 56, Andre is 21, Marcus is 18. 


The next week, Aliyah was in Arizona with her family. Her youngest brother had just turned eighteen. Their dad said, "Old enough to drink like a man, at home at least." Then he poured a round for the five of them.

Aliyah stopped him before he got to hers. "Uh, Dad, think you could make mine a rootbeer float?"

Deirdre Sylvester was no fool. In fact, she was the smartest woman Aliyah would ever know. Deirdre glanced down at Aliyah's swollen belly with suspicion. "Those root beer floats are very decadent," she said, looking quite certain that belly wasn't just full of rootbeer and ice cream.


But Deirdre didn't say anything more about it right away. Now was not the time. The moment passed and Aliyah enjoyed her rootbeer float and they all spent some time together, celebrating Marcus's birthday and the return of their prodigal daughter from across the country. Aliyah told her mother all about her glamorous job at the bistro. Well, she made it sound glamorous anyway with their exotic dishes and fine wines and rich patrons and strict dress code. In truth, even the fanciest restaurant work is still sweaty and tiring, especially being pregnant.



They all enjoyed the evening. Her father made hamburgers, they listened to music, and Marcus got a little tipsy for the first time. The first time his parents knew about, anyway. Aliyah and Andre spiked his fruit punch with vodka two summers ago when the family vacationed in Cancun.

Later when her brothers went inside to catch up with a favorite TV show, Aliyah shared the big news.


"So, I'm pregnant."

Her father almost choked on his hamburger.

Her mother looked concerned, but unsurprised. "We didn't even know you were seeing anyone. Is he the reason you don't call home anymore?"

"Time just got away from me," Aliyah explained.


"Who is he?" her father asked. "Does he love you? Will he support you? Does he want to marry you?"

"Who said anything about marriage?" her mother said. "We don't know anything about this boy. What if we don't want him to marry her?"

"But he better support you anyway, whoever he is," Raymond said.

"Nobody would judge you if you didn't want to keep it," Deirdre said.

"Deirdre, this is our first grandchild."

"I know, but it's such an important decision, it needs to be said. Of course, if you do want to keep it, we will all love this baby to pieces. I wonder if it'll be a boy or a girl. How far along are you, sweetheart?"

"You should move back home," Raymond said.

"She's not a teenager, Raymond, let her decide where she wants to live... But you know you can come home if you want. It will be so hard to do on your own out there."

Her parents went back and forth, and back and forth again, and Aliyah listened to them both, making note of all the decisions she had to make. The list grew and grew until it was a mile long.

"Why don't you tell us about him."

Aliyah took a deep breath. "His name is Angelo. He's twenty-four. He's a lawyer."

"Oh, a lawyer!" Deirdre's face brightened. "See, Raymond? I'm sure he'll support her. He's a lawyer."

Aliyah didn't say that Angelo was barely a lawyer, that he'd never won a case, or that his first and only client out of law school was now a wanted felon.

"How about his family? Do they live nearby? What do his parents do?"

Aliyah tried to recall what little she knew of them. "Uh... his mom works at a spa. And he has a little sister, she's fourteen. Uh, his dad is..."

In the slammer? No, that wouldn't go over well. But what were the chances that she and Angelo would actually work out, anyway? Given his lackluster reaction, she figured he would be little more involved in her life than a child support payment, if she was lucky, and maybe an occasional week or visitation here and there. So, if they didn't work out, it didn't matter what she told her mother about Angelo. He'd just be some baby daddy somewhere.

But if they did work out, her mother would not like the truth. Might as well make it easy on her, like Angelo said.

"Um, he's gone," Aliyah said.

"Oh, no. How sad. Do you know how it happened?"

Aliyah shrugged. "Cancer, I think."

"The poor darlings."

Perfect, Aliyah thought. That was easy. That went better than expected.

She felt better about everything already. Her family and Angelo's family lived on opposite ends of the country and nobody needed to know anything more. What could go wrong?   

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