by Jamie Knight
There was also the issue of what the hell I was going to do to raise a baby. Particularly on my own. My dad had died a few years before and my grandma had gone before him. The only one left in my immediate family was my mom and there was no way I was going to tell her I was pregnant out of wedlock.
I was just going to have to get by on my own as well as I could. Because there was no way I was telling Logan about this, no matter how many times he tried to call me. I’d sworn to leave him alone with his mystery visitor and I didn’t want anything to change my mind about that, lest I seem pathetic and desperate.
I took a breath and tried to calm down. I didn't really know anything for sure yet. Pregnancy was a possibility for sure but there could well have been other causes for what happened. I could have caught a flu on the streets, or eaten a bad batch of eggs.
I couldn't freak out. There was no reason for it, not yet, and even if it was true, it wouldn't be good for me and likely wouldn’t do the baby, if there was a baby, any favors. I needed to know for sure before I did anything.
It was raining on my way downtown. Of course it was. The traffic wasn't too bad though. The last thing I needed were any more obstacles on my way to the truth. I happened to look at the clock in the console.
"Shit," I said, my language getting significantly dirtier since I left home.
I fished my phone out of my inside pocket and hit the speed dial button for work. I knew it could be dangerous to use a phone and drive but I didn't want to lose my job as a masseuse at the spa before I had officially gotten it.
"Hello?" Erik said.
My heart leapt with joy.
"Erik!"
"Kora, how you doing?"
"Not so good," I said, with complete honesty.
"Oh no, what's wrong?"
"If I told you, you would hate me for putting the image in your head."
"Oh dear!"
"Suffice it to say I'm in no fit state to be around people right now," I said.
"Doesn't sound like it."
"If you could pass that along to David, in a way that would make him not want to fire me, I would be forever in your debt,” I told him.
"Oh, don't be silly. I would settle for a batch of those infamous cookies of yours."
"Deal," I said.
That taken care of, I focused on getting where I was going without killing anyone on the way.
The drug store was one of those big box deals. Large and impersonal. Exactly what I needed at the time. Nothing like a disinterested crowd when you wanted to be alone.
I could hear the Muzak before the automatic doors even finished sliding open, Star Trek-style, before me. The assault on my ears was nothing compared to what was wafting over from the perfume counter. Fighting down another wave of nausea, I made for the the family planning section.
The choice in pregnancy tests was far too large to be based on functional considerations so I decided to go by price, getting the cheapest no name brand I could find, hoping it wouldn't affect the accuracy of the reading.
I really didn't see how it could, or else why would anyone buy them at all? But taking pregnancy tests was definitely a whole new world for me and I knew very little about it.
Grabbing a few other things to try and make the situation a bit less embarrassing, like a teenage boy getting toilet paper and toothpaste along with his first ever box of condoms, I located the shortest checkout line and waited as patiently as I could, pretending to look at the magazine display until it was my turn. Then I hastily shoved everything onto the counter, looking down at it as if to say I wasn’t interested in conversation.
"Have a great day!" the clerk said automatically once she was done ringing up my things, handing me my bag.
The irony was not lost but I was too scared and tired to laugh.
I pulled off my skirt almost as soon as I got home to get the pressure off, my oversized shirt hanging down like a dress. I decided to leave it.
I really wanted a drink but decided not to until I knew for sure. My hands shaking, I took the pregnancy test into the bathroom.
Then all I could do was wait.
I literally paced as I waited for the little blue plus or minus to show up. Simple math symbols, the implications of which scared me more than anything I had experienced to that point.
Finally, it was time to look, like it or not.
The test was positive.
I took in a breath and let it out like I once been shown by a guy really into meditation techniques. I was determined not to freak out. It would have been a lot easier if I'd been able to have some wine but that was something I was just going to have to learn to live without.
I knew I was keeping the baby, no matter what. Something inside me wanted it emotionally, even though my head knew that was a rather foolish idea. I stroked my belly, imaging the potential life growing in there.
I thought of Logan. I really wanted to know what was going on with that limo first. And who had been in it.
I had to admit, I really had no idea who was in it, but his reaction left me with the distinct impression that it was nothing good. Even if it wasn't another woman, it could still be really bad. He could owe money to some bad people. The kind who had to drive around in cars with bullet-proof glass. Or at least bullet-proof looking glass.
I had the sudden need to be sick again. I wondered if the six convolute bars had been a mistake. It had just been a craving I hadn't really noticed until it was all over and I saw the corpses of the wrappers strewn on the passenger seat.
I flushed and tried to focus. To force myself back to reality, my imagination getting a bit away from me.
When it came right down to it, I really didn't know much of anything about what was going on with Logan. And it really didn't matter. No matter what I thought of him— I still really didn't know— he had a right to know he was going to be a father. It was up to him what he did after that.
Searching down my phone, I opened a new text and thought about what to say.
Something funny?
Something gentle?
Something blunt getting right to the point?
It would have been so much easier without out all the questions. All the uncertainty. I took a breath, trying to focus. The pain in my stomach didn't help. I got up from the couch and went to make some tea. It would be easier to think without stomach cramps.
As the kettle boiled, I searched the closet for the herbal tea, not sure what caffeine might do to me and in no real hurry to find out. Locating the last, lonely bag, I put it in the mug I'd gotten for graduation with Penguins wearing mortarboard hats. Logan thought it was funny and I though that was cute. It was a compromise, but it worked.
The kettle started to scream like a thing from the darkest pits of Hell and I half-filled the cup, dipping the bag like grandma had taught me. She really was the only one of my family I liked. Rather less traditional in some ways than my parents, breaking years of convention, saying it should be the opposite, she was more than happy for me to be my own person.
She still taught me what she thought of as "womanly skills," a lot of which turned out to me more useful than I liked to admit, to the extent that I wondered why they were only secrets taught to women, when it seemed men could benefit from knowing them too. But she had also barely batted an eye when she caught me with a romance novel, which were strictly verboten as "lurid" by the rules of my parent's house.
She had just smiled to herself and gone on her way and never told my parents. At least if the fact that I didn't get spanked was anything to go by. It was my mother who usually performed such punishment and I guess I should be grateful for that much, at least. My father was so strong that I might have been paralyzed if he had tried to spank me. Particularly when I was young. Like Paul Bunyan in a three-piece suit, my dad was.
I sipped lightly at my tea, not wanting to overdo it, and sat back down on the couch. I looked at the phone, trying to think of something, anything, to say. I wondered, just hypothetically, what
I would do if Logan wanted to part of our baby's life.
Would he want to help me raise it; maybe even live together?
Would we be a happy little family?
I smiled at the idea, forgetting, just for a moment, about that damn limo and everything else going on and that had gone on between us.
Could I really let go of the bad feelings from the past?
I really didn't know; maybe Logan really had changed, and I hadn't noticed. I thought back to Kristen's party and his incredibly thoughtful gift. A reminder of their past that seemed to make her very happy.
And with me, he was gentle and sweet. I had never known him to settle down with any girl and here he was wanting to see me again all the time, which had surprised me.
He did seem to be making an effort. I’d give him that much. So what exactly was my problem?
Was I so scared of getting hurt again that I was pushing him away?
Was my hate for what he had done to me in the past shadowing my love for him?
Did I love him?
Yes.
Fuck!
As much as I hated what he had done back in high school, I still loved him. I swore after leaving my parents’ house that I would never let anyone treat me like that again, but he hadn't, really.
He seemed to be really into me. He could have just been playing with me, but I didn't think so. That really wasn't the sense I got. I had to try.
I picked up the phone and opened a text box. Taking a deep breath, I typed, "I need to talk to you," figuring that would get his attention.
It was now up to him to decide what he wanted to do.
When I didn't get a response immediately, I sent another message, figuring the first one must have gotten deleted somehow, it not being the sort of information one usually just ignored.
I wanted so much to give him the benefit of the doubt. Then I sent another one, sure he would say something, anything. Even if it was "fuck off" or, scarier still, "marry me."
But there was nothing.
For more than a day, I waited.
I had even called my cell phone service company to make sure my phone was working. Even though I knew it was working because I had texted other people in between that time and had received responses. That was just how desperate I was.
Even more direct than texts, I figured, were phone calls. Drumming up all my courage, I dialed his number. Every jab at the keypad felt like a stab at the heart of my fear.
He was going to talk to me. He was going to explain himself. For good or bad, we were going to work this out.
After another several hours of trying the direct approach, dialing and redialing his number so many times my thumb cramped, I finally had to admit to myself that he had made his answer clear. I didn’t even bother leaving a voicemail.
I figured that after so many hello? Are you there? And You really don’t want to talk to me? texts I had sent, it would be even more pathetic to leave a spoken message.
It was obvious he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. It wasn’t even that I had gotten to tell him I was pregnant and he didn’t want the baby, which would have been bad enough, but but it was that he didn't even want to talk to me and find out what I wanted to tell him, apathy being even worse than hate, because at least with hate there was some emotion involved.
He had made it clear by his radio silence that he wasn't interested in me or anything having to with me anymore. I supposed that included his own child.
"It's just you and me, kid," I said, putting my hand on my belly, telling myself to face reality and move on.
Chapter Eighteen
Logan
I could be really tenacious. I guess I could blame it all on grandpa, his bad influence and all, but that was really only part of it. No matter what my influences, I still had my own mind and could make my own decisions. I
t was just too bad I had let so much of my life pass me by before I had figured that out. Not that I couldn't have used someone to blame. Someone or something else to point to other than my sheer bloody-mindedness; or worse, that could possibly explain what happened.
I kept trying to call Kora. I wasn't proud of it, but I did. Dad was right, like he had so often been whether I was willing to admit it or not, but something in me kept pushing. I had resisted it for nearly two weeks.
Doing my best to push it from my mind, I had focused on work, which had been going really well. Dad really did have some good ideas and the business was growing. We weren't making quite as much per tour but we had a lot more clients and some of them were interested in buying their own boats, too, so it evened out. Eventually it would surpass what grandpa had done.
Not that I needed the money, really. But a petty part of me liked the idea of getting one over on granddad, especially by doing what dad had been wanting to do all along. While I didn't need the money, dad did. Grandpa had completely cut him out of his will and the business dad had helped build, leaving him with nothing.
That was grandpa's revenge for dad daring to go against him. Dad had tried to get another job, of course, but corporate gigs weren't was plentiful as they used to be and most of the start ups wanted someone younger, which was its own, weird kind of irony.
Eventually dad had gotten a job with a logging company, cutting down trees up north. At first, this sounded impossibly strange. Like a dog suddenly speaking in Aramaic. But it wasn't that weird, really.
Dad had always been a big guy and pretty hands on. He was always doing all kinds of repair jobs around the house, even after he was really rich. I'd seen him use a leaf blower. It wasn't really too far between that and a chainsaw.
Still, I was happy for him to be able to to get back to doing what he always wanted to do and be a partner in the business he had helped build again. Kristen seemed happier, too. She had gotten a promotion at her job and I didn't think the money she got from her stocks in the sailing business hurt, either. I really did just see it as her due.
She also seemed to stop worrying about me. At least she didn't worry quite so much. And that was a good thing for all concerned.
No matter how good things got, though, I still had a nagging feeling. Like something was missing. It wasn't just sex, either. The sex with Kora was awesome but it was obviously more than that.
I wasn't even able to get excited by the thought of another woman. I couldn't even count the number of times I had jerked off, the thought of Kora the only thing that could get me hard.
The thoughts didn't even have to be all that erotic. Really, just any old thought of her would turn me on. Her smile, her laugh, and yes, her body, made me feel over all warm and calm, except for my cock, which went into a state of raging desperation, needing her touch.
I guess it was some sort of karmic penitence for how I had been in high school. Fucking so many girls but ignoring the one I really wanted, when I should have gotten with her much earlier. Then treating her like shit when I'd finally gotten a chance with her.
Not on the mountain, as that had been her call and her right. But during my college break. She was clearly willing and ready, but I was so sacred of things I had no real clue about that I had literally pushed her away.
Though it was far too late, I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if it had happened then. If I had realized what was going on. That Kora had finally gotten the courage to lose her virginity and was trying to give me what she thought I wanted.
What if I had fucked and deflowered her then? Would we have stayed together? Would we be happily married with kids by now?
It was impossible to know for sure of course but it was still a nice thought. That maybe I wasn't irrevocably self-centred and awful.
If only.
If only I had been able to see what was right there, staring in my face. While doing her best to suck my cock. I think it might have been love.
I got out my phone and dialed her number. It went right to a message saying that the number was no longer in service. Certain I had gotten it wrong, I f
ound her number on my contacts list and did that way. I got the same message.
The same would be true for the texts, so there was no point in trying that. Something I tried to remind myself of as I tried that anyway, of course getting a message not sent alert. I brought the phone back up and dialed the servants’ quarters.
"Sarah, bring the car around please."
It was nearly six, so Kora would likely be home from work. My knees shook as the limo moved through the late rush hour traffic, the few stragglers left over from the main event. There were always a few.
I had written the building number down on my phone. I didn't have the apartment number but it was a controlled entrance anyway. Rich as I was, there were limits to what I could do. Even billionaires didn't really have the ability to just pop up anywhere at anytime, like some seemed to believe. Rich as we may be, teleportation technology was still a quite elusive thing.
There was no tenants’ list next to the buzzer. Instead, I had to press the hashtag key for the on-screen directory and scroll down to the Es. No Evans. I checked twice.
Had she really moved just to avoid me?
I tapped the breaks on my ego before things got too far. Yes, she had obviously moved but there was no reason to think that it was because of me. Or at least because she was avoiding me. It was fairly safe to assume that she had other things going on in her life.
"Any luck?" Sarah asked, as I got into the back.
"I don't believe in luck," I said, getting a bottle of Irish stout from the mini fridge.
"Right, I forgot," Sarah said.
"I'll let it slide," I said, taking a sip.
"Where to now?"
"Suicide Notes."
Suicide Notes was the only record store in town that stocked vinyl in any significant way. The big box stores did too, of course, cashing in on what they saw as a trend. But they didn't have anything that was more than two years old, which was fine if you liked that kind of thing, or cost less than $50.
I could afford it. Of course I could. I could literally buy the store if I wanted to. It was the principle of the thing. I firmly believed in supporting small businesses. Especially when they were awesome.