by Jenna Reed
Lifting my head to meet her gaze, my body tensed. “What if she doesn’t?” I asked.
“She will,” Sophia said. When my expression grew incredulous, she sighed. “Look, Rhett, you’re asking her to trust you, so you have to do the same for her. You’re both good people, and you both want what’s best for this baby. Maybe you’ll never be friends, or anything more than that, but I have faith in both of you that you can at least be good parents together.”
Her words did something to calm the chaos and anger raging inside of me. Sophia was smart, and she understood people better than anyone else I’d ever met. She busted my balls about my lifestyle on a regular basis, but I knew she loved me and wasn’t just saying what I needed to hear right now. She also knew Erica better than anyone else. She had to be right that Erica would come to her senses and stop trying to force me out of her life. Slowly, everything started to calm. My thoughts, my pulse, and even my breathing.
I knew I needed to follow Sophia’s advice and give Erica a few days to digest the news of the pregnancy. That didn’t mean I was going to sit idle during that time. I would do whatever it took to earn Erica’s trust if that was the only way I was going to be able to participate in my child’s life. That had to start with learning everything I could about what she was going through and what we were about to face as parents. I was beyond frustrated that Erica didn’t want me around, but I refused to have my child start out with parents who hated each other. I’d never had a problem winning over a woman before. I knew this was going to be different. If Erica thought I would give up, she was sorely mistaken.
11
Rhett
A few days. That was what Sophia had said. Just give her a few days. It had been a week. Erica still refused to return my calls or answer my texts. Not getting angry at her was fucking impossible. Keeping that anger out of my voicemails and texts was almost as impossible. Did she think I was asking about doctor’s appointments just to blow them off? The texts about books or blogs I was reading didn’t show her that I was putting in the effort to understand what was happening? I’d even sent her product reviews about baby equipment, attempting to show her I was interested in sticking around after the baby was born. No goddamn response.
Sophia listened to my rants about how ridiculous Erica was being better than Cody. All my brother could do was shrug and remind me that I’d gotten myself into this mess. Sophia’s only suggestion was to be patient and give Erica a little more time. I was getting sick of hearing that. At least Sophia was able reassure me that Erica and the baby were both doing fine. Beneath my frustration with Erica, I couldn’t help worrying that something would happen and I wouldn’t be there, or even know about it. Which pissed me off to think about, so I tried not to. I was getting dangerously close to the point that I wouldn’t be able to resist going to see her in person and demanding she talk to me about this. Instead, I kept texting or calling daily, trying to prove I wasn’t a scumbag.
A knock interrupted my train of thought and brought me back to the present moment. My boss, Joseph, stepped into my office a moment later, a probing expression on his face. “How’s the grocery ordering app coming along? I expected more progress by now.”
My fingers tightened around the stylus I was holding. I’d gotten the assignment two days ago. My deadline for a rough structure wasn’t due for another three days. “Coming along fine,” I said coolly. “Just making sure I have everything the client wants incorporated into the overall concept so I don’t have to go back and make changes later.”
Joseph grunted. He was fanatical about streamlining workflow, so he couldn’t argue with my answer. “Let’s just pick up the pace, okay?”
“You got it,” I said with false sincerity.
I couldn’t tell if he’d detected my borderline hostile tone, or if he was just in a bad mood, as usual. Either way, he turned away without another word and left my office.
The stylus I’d been strangling fell to the desk. While my last project had certainly taught me to delve a little deeper into what the client wanted at the start, that wasn’t the reason I’d been moving slower than usual this week. Erica was. And so was the baby. I spent too much time thinking about how to make Erica see me as a decent guy, getting angry when nothing worked, and driving myself insane with new plans and attempts. I knew I wouldn’t have any problem meeting my deadline on the project, but also recognized that I was making myself crazy and risking my job by letting my personal issues interfere with my ability to work.
My patience was approaching its breaking point. I decided to send one more text before getting back to work, and if Erica didn’t reply by the end of the day, I was done being patient.
I get a week of paternity leave after the baby is born. How long will you be able to take for maternity leave? I’ve read some daycares have long waiting lists. We should talk about it.
I tossed the phone onto the desk and forced myself to focus on getting some work done on my project. It wasn’t a difficult one. I’d made custom apps for small groceries stores before. This one wanted to start offering pick-up and delivery services, so fine tuning the scheduling part of the app was my priority with this job. Everything else was built off templates from previous projects. I suspected Joseph knew that and was more bitchy than usual because I wasn’t starting from scratch on this one and should have blown through this first phase in no time.
Pushing both Erica and Joseph out of my mind, I set to work customizing the template and adding the framework to start building a scheduling system. It was start and stop at first, outside thoughts crowding in and distracting me. I refused to look at my phone or the time. Slowly, the detailed work left no room for anything else and I started flying through the lines of code.
“Hey man,” a voice called out.
I looked up to see Graham, one of my few friends at the company, standing in my doorway. “Hey. What’s up?”
“I need to get out of the office and away from Joseph. Lunch?”
After glancing at the clock and seeing that it was already half an hour past my usual lunch hour, I nodded. I quickly saved my work and stood. “Where to?”
“Guido’s?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Sure.”
Graham chatted as we walked, requiring no input from me. I listened as attentively as I could manage, and at least caught the highlights of his cousin’s wedding he and his wife had gone to over the weekend. Graham’s ability to carry a conversation by himself was part of why we got along so well at work. When he needed to chatter and take his mind off work, I usually needed to think and walk. These moods were usually brought on by Joseph making our lives more difficult than necessary. It worked just as well when it was Erica fucking with my head.
We had grabbed our food and sat down at a table outside before Graham noticed my preoccupation. “Other than Joseph hounding you, what’s got your panties in a twist?” he asked. “You’ve been completely zoned out since we left your office.”
Joseph and his wife had two small kids. Nobody else that I hung out with had kids. I doubted even Sophia completely understood what her friend was thinking or feeling right now. Maybe he could give me some understanding when it came to Erica. “Do women always become completely unreasonable when they’re pregnant?”
He froze with his sandwich an inch from his mouth. Staring at me over it, he blinked a few times before managing to form a response. “Fuck. You knocked someone up?
His wording irritated me. It made me sound like the douchebag Erica thought I was. “I had sex with someone. Amazing sex, actually,” I snapped. “And yes, she’s pregnant and driving me completely insane.”
Lowering his sandwich, Graham frowned. “In what way?”
“She’s completely shutting me out, saying she doesn’t need or want my help. She wasn’t even going to tell me she was pregnant, until Sophia convinced her. Then she hung up on me after telling me the news and won’t call or text me back.” I threw my hands up. “She’s being ridiculous! No matter h
ow many times I tell her that I’ll help her or try to show her that I’m learning about this whole pregnancy thing, she won’t give me the fucking time of day.”
Graham picked his sandwich back up and took a bite. As he chewed, he seemed to consider the situation. Finally, he said, “To answer your original question, yes. Lisa practically turns into a different person when she’s pregnant. Her emotions are all over the place, she worries about every little thing to the point of giving herself anxiety attacks, and becomes obsessive about planning. Her birth plan for Rosie was four pages long.”
“Birth plan?” I asked. What the hell was that? Who was writing up research papers on the birthing process? Was I going to be expected to do that? What exactly did you need to plan? Other than which hospital to go to?
Graham waved off the question. “My point is, it’s not unreasonable that this woman is acting differently. Not every woman gets like Lisa. My sister was super mellow through her pregnancy. No cravings or mood swings. Didn’t even repaint the nursery three times. Everyone’s different. Regardless, you’ve got to work with this woman on her terms.”
“Why on her terms?” I snapped. “Don’t I get a say? Why does she get to call all the shots? I’m the baby’s father. Shouldn’t I get an equal say in everything?”
“That’s not how it works generally, and even more so in this situation,” Graham said with a shrug. “She’s the one with the bun in the oven. Her career’s on the line. Her body’s never going to be the same. If you vanish, she’s left holding the bag. You’re at the bottom of her priority list right now. Plus, legally speaking, you pretty much don’t get to decide anything. You have almost zero rights until the baby’s born.”
“But I’m the father!”
Again, Graham shrugged. “So? She doesn’t exactly need you for anything at the moment, and the law is on her side. As long as there aren’t any complications or questions about her ability to make decisions for the baby. She’s doing all the work while you can really only sit on the sidelines and observe.”
“I don’t want to sit on the sidelines and observe,” I snapped.
“Doesn’t matter,” he said and took another bite. “It’s her call.”
I crossed my arms and struggled to keep control of my temper. “I’ll eventually have rights as the father.”
“That doesn’t help you now, though.” He gestured at my sandwich, reminding me that I needed to eat at some point. “You’re going to have a tough time forcing her to let you be involved. Your best bet is to prove you’re worth trusting. I guarantee you, fear that you’ll bail is what’s keeping her silent.”
I chewed and swallowed the bite of sandwich I’d taken and huffed. I hated not being in control of this situation. It wasn’t like I was asking to make all the decisions or control Erica’s life. I wanted to have some input, know what was happening, at the very least. Why couldn’t I have that? “I’ve been trying to prove I’m a decent guy who’s in it for the long haul, but it’s not working.”
Studying me, Graham said, “What exactly have you been doing?”
“Telling her about pregnancy books I’ve been reading, asking when appointments are, telling her I have paternity leave, finding the best baby furniture, bringing up day care for later.” I threw my hands up, at a loss for what else I should be doing and why none of that had worked so far.
A snorting laugh burst out of Graham’s mouth, instantly pissing me off. “Dude, you’ve got a lot to learn.”
“What?” I demanded. “How is all of that a bad thing?”
“It’s not,” he said, still chuckling. “It’s just the worst fucking way to try to win her over.”
He seemed so confident, and I had to admit I usually trusted his judgment, on work matters anyway. It didn’t make me happy to entertain the idea that he might be right about this too. Not when I usually had the answers to anything I was facing and never had to ask other people for help. This was like nothing I had ever encountered before. I hated admitting it, but I had no clue what else to do.
Finally, I gave up and forced myself to ask, “What should I be doing then?”
Graham wiped sauce off his hands and got serious. “Lisa tells me all the damn time that she doesn’t need me to fix her problems. She needs me to listen and be supportive when she’s complaining about a problem. Nine times out of ten, she knows how to fix the problem, and is perfectly capable of doing it. When she gets stressed out or angry, it’s like emotional overload for her. She needs to get it out of her system and feel heard.”
“Okay,” I said slowly, thinking that sounded ridiculous. Why tell someone about a problem if you didn’t want them to fix it for you? I wanted to fix things for Erica and the baby. It was unreasonable that she didn’t want my help.
“Your baby mama is freaked out about all this, right?” He waited for me to push aside my internal argument and nod before continuing. “She knows you’ve got rights once the baby is born. She probably even knows you’re not nearly as big of an asshole as you try to convince people you are. Maybe she even knows, deep down, that you aren’t going anywhere. Honestly, that’s probably what scares her most.”
“Why?” I asked. An annoying whisper in the back of my mind told me he might be right about that, and I didn’t like it one bit.
Graham folded his arms across his chest and stared me down. “Raising a child is thankless work most days. You say you want to be involved, but how does she know she’s not going to end up with a man-baby to go with her actual baby? No offense, but you aren’t exactly the poster boy for stable relationships. You bitched about your brother getting married for months. Reading a few books and harassing her about appointments isn’t exactly going to prove you’re suddenly family material.”
Tension crept through my muscles. His words made sense, but I didn’t know how else to approach this. I was used to being in control and not answering to anyone else. I knew Sophia was trying to convince Erica that I was a decent guy she could trust, but my faith in her had plummeted with every day of silence from Erica. How could anything either of us said now compare with years of her and Cody complaining about me and retelling stories of my exploits? I tossed the rest of my sandwich back onto the plate. Erica had way more evidence that I wasn’t worth her time than she did anything that would convince her to give me a chance. Me hounding her over the last week probably hadn’t helped, either.
Looking back at Graham, I asked, “What do I do?”
He hesitated a moment before answering. “Don’t push her. Keep reading and researching. You’re going to need to know all of that regardless. I can almost guarantee you, she’s already done the same and is ten steps ahead of you. She doesn’t need you to tell her about what she’s experiencing. She needs someone to listen to all her fears and worries about what’s going to happen in the future. She needs to know you share those same fears.”
I thought about what he’d said as I picked my sandwich back up and finished my lunch. It didn’t take long to realize he was right, though it pained me to admit it. What he’d said didn’t exactly explain how to fix things between Erica and me, though. Did I have any hope of undoing all the less-than-impressive things she’d heard about me over the years? I honestly didn’t know, but I was determined to try. I’d never had a woman turn me down before. Now was no time to start.
The walk back to the office was quiet. Graham patted me on the back before heading off to his own office. I went back to my desk and jumped right back into my project. Erica stayed hovering on the edges of my thoughts. I left work without a firm plan, or really any answers at all. It wasn’t until later that night when I was reading about possible complications during pregnancy that what Graham had said really started to sink in.
Picking up my phone, I held it for a long time, trying to figure out how to talk to Erica in a way that wouldn’t keep pushing her away. I was used to flirting and seducing, not reassuring and comforting. Surely there had to be some common ground between those types of communication. T
he end results were drastically different, but I was still trying to convince her I was worth her time. Letting that thought seep in, I typed and retyped the message half a dozen times before finally capturing what I needed to say to Erica.
I know you’re struggling with all of this. Everything you’ve learned about this whole process is probably scaring the shit out of you as much as it is me. I worry about everything that can go wrong and not being there to handle it. Not being in control isn’t easy for me. I know that once the baby’s born, I can force the issue by getting lawyers involved, but I don’t want to do that. I just want to know what’s going on and that you’re both okay.
I hit send and sank into the couch, not expecting a response any time soon. Scrubbing at my tired eyes, I knew I should head to bed. I’d been sleeping poorly lately. It was affecting my mood and work. I constantly felt like I was on the verge of losing control. My issues with Erica weren’t going to be solved overnight, though. I needed to trust Erica to take care of things until I could convince her to let me in. Patience. I was beginning to hate that word.
My phone ringing startled me back up to sitting. I picked up my phone and stared at it in shock. Erica? I swiped my finger across the screen quickly to answer her call. She didn’t give me a chance to say anything.
“Are you really scared about all of this?” she asked, her tone untrusting and clipped.
I exhaled and told myself to relax and not be an asshole. “Have you seen those birthing videos, or read any of the books that tell you all the risks and possible problems? I haven’t slept right in days.”
“Why?” she asked. “Why do you care? This wasn’t what you wanted.”
“No,” I admitted, “but I knew that if it ever did happen, I could never abandon my child or his mother. It’s not in me to do something like that, Erica. I’m not saying I expect any kind of relationship with you. In fact, it’s probably best we take that off the table for now. I hope we can be friends while we try to figure this out, but at the very least, I want to be this baby’s dad. If I have to get a lawyer, I will. I’d rather work this out privately, if you’re willing.”