by Jenna Reed
I nodded, my pulse kicking up a notch. This was exactly what I needed. I prolonged our contact as she slipped off the stool and turned toward the restrooms. Her hips swayed teasingly and she glanced back over her shoulder with a grin before disappearing down the hall.
My phone buzzed, vibrating the wood of the bar top and startling me. Not caring about another damned work email, I moved to look away and see if Charlie was on her way back yet. A bright logo caught my eye before I could. It seemed familiar. It wasn’t a work email that was for sure. Blinking to clear my vision, I squinted at the notification. It was too hard to focus on, so I tapped it, wondering what it was for.
The screen changed, taking me to a shipping confirmation page for a baby toy I’d ordered. I stared at the caterpillar made out of various spheres, each one different and meant to help infants develop gross motor skills. The sight of it made the morning’s events rush back in. Guilt and guile churned in my stomach. I suddenly felt ill and almost fell off the stool.
Grabbing the bar top for stability, I stared at the caterpillar and asked myself what the hell I was doing? I didn’t want Charlie. I didn’t want to have mindless sex with her. There was no doubt in my foggy mind that I’d send her away feeling shittier than ever. Erica was who I wanted. The baby, my daughter, I wanted to be part of her life. I was just too fucking terrified to face it.
I struggled to pull my wallet from my back pocket. When I finally tugged it free, I grabbed a few bills out and threw them on the bar top. The bartender wandered back over at the sight of the money, ready to close out my tab.
“Mine and hers,” I mumbled. It was the least I owed Charlie after flirting with her for an hour…or more. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been there by that point.
The bartender scooped up the bills and nodded. I assumed that meant I’d given him enough money and turned to leave. I made it two steps before a hand wrapped around my arm.
“Hey,” Charlie breathed, “you didn’t forget about me, did you?”
The sickening feeling in my stomach worsened. “I have to go,” I mumbled.
“To your apartment, remember? You were going to show it to me?” Charlie smiled seductively and pressed a little closer.
I shook my head. “Sorry. Emergency. My daughter.”
Charlie froze. “Your daughter?”
“I need to go. Sorry. Good luck with everything.”
I slipped out of her startled grip and made for the door. When I hit the cool afternoon air, I gulped in a breath and tried to figure out how to get back to my apartment building. It took much longer than it should have to orient myself. When I finally trudged into my apartment, I went straight for the couch and collapsed. Anger at myself, disgust, fear…they swirled inside of me, tearing at me until I couldn’t take it anymore and gave up. My thoughts slipped into blackness.
17
Rhett
I woke hours later in a dark apartment. Sitting up sent a wave of nausea through me. God, I hadn’t felt this shitty in a long time. I deserved it, though. What the fuck had I been thinking? Drinking that much on an empty stomach, in the middle of the day no less. I started to chastise myself, then I remembered what had led me to the bar and pushed me over the edge into idiocy. Remembering certainly didn’t make me feel any better.
My phone buzzed somewhere under my leg. I fished my phone out from between the cushions and stared at the screen through bleary eyes. A text from my mom. I almost tossed the phone back to the cushions, not it the mood to deal with anyone at the moment. The preview caught my eye.
Erica sent the sonogram pics!
Half a dozen excited emojis followed the words, being cut off by the preview. I hesitated before tapping the notification and bringing up her full message. I ignored the emojis and stared at the squashy face of my daughter in the 3D image. It still filled me with an intense fear I didn’t know how to handle. Alongside it, though, was an equally intense fear that I would miss out on her entire life if I couldn’t get my shit together.
Erica was content right now with letting me co-parent. Letting me be a part of her life as a friend. Taking me to Doctor appointments and furniture shopping. But what if Erica found some other guy, what if my daughter grows up calling someone else dad?
She’s beautiful and smart. No doubt she will eventually find a guy and get married.
Then where would that leave me?
Seeing my kid every other weekend? That's only four or five days out of the month. That's nothing. The thought of that happening… I just I can’t fathom it. I would miss out on so much. I wouldn't be there for her first word, her first smile, her first steps.
I would miss all the firsts, and then everything after that.
I didn’t know what to do with everything I was feeling and trying to process. My mom’s smiling face stared at me from next to the picture. Her profile picture was one of her at work, wearing scrubs and a lab coat. All at once, I wanted to kick myself for being such an idiot. Who should I turn to for help in figuring all of this out? Why not my mom? She clearly had experience with pregnancy and kids, and she was a nurse, too. While my parents had been shocked when I told them about the baby, they were both supportive and fully onboard with us trying to co-parent.
Grabbing my keys from the coffee table, I stumbled up to my feet. My head was pounding, but this couldn’t wait. Forcing back the urge to hurl, or at least to go back to sleep, I trudge out of my apartment and down to my car. I didn’t notice what time it was until I started the car and the clock flashed to life. It was after nine, but I pulled away from the curb anyway. They would understand.
Half an hour later, I pulled into the driveway of their townhouse and killed the engine. The walk up to their door provided me with another moment of hesitation, but before I could turn around the porch light flipped on and I saw my mom peek out the front window. Seeing me, she moved to the door and pulled it open for me. Her welcoming smile faltered when she saw what condition I was in.
“Is everything okay?” she demanded. “Did something happen with Erica or the baby?”
I shook my head. “They’re fine. I’m the one with the issues.”
When I moved to give her a hug, she pulled back. “Are you drunk?”
“Not anymore,” I grumbled.
Her expression grew worried again. “Come in. Tell me what’s going on.”
I followed her into the house and collapsed on her couch. She appeared a few minutes later with some water and a couple of pain relievers. I accepted them gratefully and downed both.
“So, what happened?” she asked.
“Nothing,” I said. “I just thought I was ready for all of this.”
“This being the baby?” My head tilted to one side as she considered me closely.
I nodded. “Today, at the ultrasound…I freaked out. Everything went from being this thing we were preparing to do to something real. I mean, you saw the pictures, right? She’s not just an idea anymore. She’s…she’s…my daughter! What the fuck do I know about raising a daughter? What do I know about any of this?”
Her expression mellowed from concern to compassion. “You sound just like your father did before you were born.” She chuckled. “Actually, you sound like almost every parent I’ve ever met before their first child is born.”
Annoyed, I waved off her reassurances. “That's what the ultrasound tech said too, but this is different,” I snapped. “I’ve never even had a serious relationship with a woman, and the only experience I have with kids is coaching baseball! How am I supposed to raise a child with Erica? How am I supposed to know what to do with a little girl? I’m going to fuck this up, and then Erica will hate me and keep me from seeing my daughter!”
“I think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself,” my mom said dryly. When I scowled at her, she held up a hand to fend off my horrible mood and self-doubt. “Not having been in a long-term relationship with a woman doesn’t mean you don’t know how to treat a woman. As much as I haven’t been a fan of your l
ifestyle in the past, I’ve never once heard a woman say you weren’t good to her. Your work also gives you a leg up on dealing with problems and negotiating with others. How time have you had to compromise with clients or coworkers? Those are the same skills you need in a relationship. And working with your baseball kiddos is going to help you as a parent a lot more than you realize. You’re not going into this with nearly as many shortfalls as you think.”
I shook my head. “But none of those are the same. The stakes are higher.”
“Yes, they are,” she said. A smile stretched her lips. “When have you ever not risen to the challenge?”
Growling, I couldn’t control my frustration. I didn’t come here to have her make me feel better about myself. I needed real help! “I was standing there today, watching the screen, and when the guy said it was a girl, everything that I could screw up, all the things I didn’t know how to handle, all went flashing through my mind. A million things I hadn’t even thought about yet!”
My mom shrugged. “So, start thinking about them. Figure it all out. You still have four and a half months to learn.”
“I can’t learn everything in four and a half months!” I snapped.
She laughed. “Of course not. But you can learn what you need to know to keep your daughter safe and healthy when you bring her home.”
“What about the rest?” I demanded.
“You’ll learn it as you go, with Erica,” she said.
I could only stare at her. “But she’s going to have snotty girls who will be mean to her and she’ll want to play with dolls and do makeup. She’ll want to date asshole boys and wear clothes that I won’t like.” The possibilities began spiraling out of control.
Again, my mom laughed. “She’ll experience all of those things, and more that are even worse or much better. Maybe she’ll want to play sports with you. Maybe she’ll struggle in school. Maybe she’ll be shy and you’ll be walking her to her classroom door until fifth grade. There’s no way to prepare for everything, Rhett, because you have no idea what her life will be like.”
My hope for answers crumbled. “Then what am I supposed to do? How do I not screw up her life?”
A look of pride I didn’t understand crept onto my mom’s features. “You love her enough to try to do it right and don’t run away from what scares you.”
She reached across the space between us and took my hand. “Trust me when I say that I know exactly how you’re feeling. I was terrified before you were born. I was young and in the middle of nursing school. I knew nothing about little boys. I didn’t think I was knowledgeable enough to make all the right choices. And I didn’t. Every parent makes mistakes. You just have to try to do more good than bad. When you love someone, it’s a lot easier than you’re making it in your head right now.”
I wanted to believe her. The doubt pouring into me refused to let me.
“Why don’t you sign up for a parenting class at the Hospital. The next session starts in a week. I was going to recommend it to you both anyway, but I really think it will help you feel a bit more confident,” she said.
“A parenting class?” I asked. That actually sounded like a great idea. “What does it teach you?”
“Just the basics, how to take care of the baby after you bring her home. I know you’re worried about the future, but this will help it not seem so scary. I promise.”
That seemed unlikely, but it was a start. “Okay,” I said slowly.
She pats my knee. “I’ll send you all the details in the morning. Anything else on your mind?”
“What if Erica starts dating or gets married? What if my daughter grows up calling someone else dad?”
My mom took a deep breath. “Well, I guess that’s a possibility, but I think the chances of that happening are slim to none.”
“Why is that?”
My mom’s smile widens. Instead of answering my questions, she asks me another one. “How do you feel about Erica dating without even thinking about the baby. How do you feel about seeing her with another man?”
“I don’t want to see her with anyone else,” I say without thought.
“That’s what I thought,” she grins.
“It doesn’t change anything. She doesn't want me.” I somber, feeling sorry for myself.
“Time Rhett, just give it some time.” I wish she was right. My mom usually is right, but I’m not sure about this time. “For now though, you look like you need some sleep.”
Taking her advice, I stood and wrapped her up in a grateful hug. “Thank you, for everything.”
“You’re welcome, honey. You can always talk to me, about whatever’s on your mind. Especially baby stuff. This wasn’t how I expected to become a grandma, but I’m excited and here to help whenever you two need it,” she said.
I hugged her again before dragging myself back to my car and driving home. Talking to my mom had helped calm the panic, but I still had a mountain of fears waiting at the edges of my thoughts. Erica hadn’t been blind earlier that day. I needed to get a handle on myself before she decided I wasn’t worth the risk anymore. Maybe this class was exactly what I needed. If it wasn’t, maybe I needed to face the truth of what I was capable of doing.
18
Rhett
The text from my mom felt like it was taunting me all morning. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to tap on the notification yet, so I saw it again every time another email or text came in and lit up my phone screen. Telling myself I didn’t have time to deal with it yet was an obvious lie. I knew I was scared of signing up and finding out I really couldn’t do all the things I’d told Erica I could. By lunch, I was so sick of seeing it, I finally opened the text and scowled at the information.
The details she’d sent were simple enough. Time and date. Location. Link to register and pay. No judgment. Nothing that should make me shy away from it. Even so, it took me until the last ten minutes of my lunch hour to finally tap on the link and put in my information. I hesitated for a few seconds before submitting the form, then tossed the phone down when it confirmed my information and payment had been accepted.
Now I just had to work up the courage to actually show up.
Shaking my head at myself, I got back to work.
That was my general attitude about the class for the next week. For the most part, I pretended it wasn’t coming up. When that didn’t work, I tried to reassure myself, and failed miserably most of the time. Reading and researching didn’t help either. I thought I’d been prepared for the ultrasound because of how much I’d learned beforehand. That hadn’t worked at all!
By the time I was standing outside the classroom the following Tuesday night, my palms were sweating and I was debating turning right back around and going home to have a beer instead. I couldn’t do it, no matter how much I wanted to. I had to at least try. If I failed, I would just have to admit I wasn’t cut out for this. I couldn’t walk away without trying, though. It simply wasn’t in me
Reaching for the door handle, I took a deep breath and yanked it open. I stepped inside the room and scanned the other participants. My stomach churned as I saw all the couples, some younger and some older, but all looking happy and together. I’d considered telling Erica and dragging her along with me. The prospect of her watching me fail kept me from telling her I’d even signed up for the class. It looked like I’d be the only one doing this solo. Sighing, I headed for the nearest empty chair.
“Good evening, everyone. I’m Katherine Carpenter, a registered nurse midwife here at the hospital, and I’ll be your instructor for this class.” She smiled and spent a few more minutes telling us about her credentials before asking the class members to introduce themselves.
When it was my turn to say something, I gave my name quickly and mumbled an excuse about how Erica’s schedule hadn’t worked with the class times so I was trying it out on my own. Everyone seemed to either accept the lie or didn’t care enough to question me. Seeing that the other soon-to-be parents were much more int
erested in the lecture than wondering why I was there by myself actually helped me relax and pay attention.
It took me twenty minutes into the lecture to realize I was the only one taking notes, but I kept it up anyway. I listened to Katherine talk about what we should expect the first twenty-four hours while the mom and baby were still in the hospital. Her detailed explanations and reassurances that we would have help a button-push away at all times took a huge weight off my shoulders. I had no idea breastfeeding could be so complicated, or that they had a top notch neonatal unit onsite if there were any problems with the baby.
When the instructor started handing out creepy looking practice babies, I almost panicked again. She seemed to sense my desire to bolt and stayed close by when she started walking everyone through the basics of baby care. I dropped the diaper twice, couldn’t get the doll’s feet into the pajamas, and looked like a toddler when I attempted to mimic her swaddling technique.
Katherine walked over to me with a soft smile when she noted my doll looked more like I’d dropped it in a pile of mashed potatoes rather than wrapped up like a burrito. Gently, she disentangled the doll from the blanket and said, “Let’s try that again. I’ll help you this time.”
Patiently, she shook out the blanket and folded it in half so it made a big triangle. She laid it back down on the table with the point facing toward me. I frowned, realizing I’d had it upside down to start with. I watched with rapt attention as she laid the doll down with its head above the fold, then tucked one flap around the doll’s body. She then lifted the bottom flap, tucked it up and slightly to the side, then wrapped the last flap around the doll’s body. It looked perfect.
“That’s not how I make a burrito,” I mumbled.
Katherine chuckled. “Everyone does it a little differently, but the important part of swaddling is making the baby feel safe and warm.”