Choking on whiskey was never a pleasant thing. Choking on whiskey was even less pleasant when the direct cause of it was one's adopted daughter saying she was pregnant -- and by a man who apparently had no desire to do right by her and her honor. When he could breathe again, Johnny wasted no time tossing back the rest of his drink. "Lord Almighty. If it ain't one thing with you lot, it's another," was all he said at the moment, still trying to take it all in.
This was not the 19th century, and he suspected not everybody in the room would be amenable to the idea of a shotgun wedding. Young women were allowed, expected, and even encouraged to be more free in their relationship choices. Plenty had children out of wedlock, or had long-term relationships in which they didn't get married simply because they didn't see a need or have a desire. He had to remember that no matter if she still looked like a child, Twee was technically an adult and could make her own choices. If this was her decision, there was nothing he could do about it. Still, nobody said he had to like it. And it was clear he was not at all happy with it, from the way he glared at Apollo and flexed his hand as though he itched to curl it around the grip of a gun.