She sits down at the far end of the couch, and I see that her hands are shaking. I want to reach out and take her hand in mine and bring it to my mouth and kiss it. “Do you want something to drink?” I ask her nervously when she shakes her head.
“No, I’m fine,” she says, then she looks down at her hands. “I just,” she says, taking a deep breath. “I just . . .”
I reach out to grab her hand, and she moves it away before I can touch her. I put my hand back in my lap because she doesn’t even want my hand on her. “I’m just going to say what I came here to say, and then I have to go,” she says, and I see that she is blinking away tears. She is so strong. “I would ask that you please not interrupt me, or I might chicken out, and I really can’t.”
“Say whatever you need to say,” I tell her. “And then I ask that you listen to what I have to say.”
“I’m pregnant.” She says the two words that stop everything that I was thinking. It just stops everything. “I know this is a shock to you, and I am still in shock myself.” I don’t say anything; I can’t say anything because my tongue is numb. “I found out last night. I just lost track of the dates with everything that I had going on,” she says, the last part trailing off softly. “I haven’t told anyone. I wanted you to know before I told my parents.” I look at her, my eyes blinking as I try to think of the words. “I know this isn’t anything that you wanted, or we planned, but it’s here, and I have to deal with it.”
The shock to my system is more than I can digest right now, but my heart takes over where my brain is in freefall. “Erin, you don’t have to deal with anything. You are having our baby,” I tell her, and my heart is full of love, a love that I didn’t even think I was capable of.
“Anyway, the reason I’m here is just to tell you that I don’t expect anything from you. I don’t expect you to be involved or for you to even care,” she says, and now a lone tear escapes, and she wipes it away with the back of her thumb. “I won’t tell anyone you’re the father, and you can be as involved as you want to be or not at all.”
“What?” I say to her, and she gets up now.
“I know it’s a shock, and it’s really not something you want to hear.” She nods at me, and I sit here looking at her. “I have to go,” she says, and she walks out of my house, and I’m still sitting here on the couch.
“I’m going to be a father,” I say out loud with a huge smile on my face. “I’m going to be a father.” Shit, I think, getting up and running out the door to chase her, but she isn’t there. I run back inside and up the steps two at a time, ignoring the sting on the bottom of my feet as I rush to get dressed.
I grab my keys and rush out of my house and go to her. I run up the steps and ring the bell, and after one second, I knock. I don’t hear anything, but then I look out into the parking lot to make sure her car is there. I turn again and knock when I hear the lock click. She opens her door just a touch, and I see that her face is so white, and her lips are even whiter. “Are you sick?”
“Yeah,” she says softly. “It’s like my body just realized I’m pregnant and now the morning sickness starts,” she says. “What are you doing here?”
“You didn’t even give me a chance to talk,” I tell her, and she nods. But then her eyes go wide, and she turns to run away, leaving the door open. I follow her, but the bathroom door is closed and locked. “Erin,” I say softly, and then I hear her getting sick. I grab my phone and google what I can do for morning sickness. I turn and go to her kitchen and try to find crackers, but there isn’t much. I walk back to the bathroom and hear her getting sick again. “I’m going to be right back,” I tell her, and I don’t know if she is grunting to tell me she heard me or to get sick again. I rush out of the apartment and go to the closest store, pulling up Google. I grab a cart and rush through the aisles, throwing things in the cart. I check out and carry the bags to the car, then go back over to Erin’s. I knock on the door, and she opens it, and the color is returning to her face but it’s still white. “I’ve got some things,” I say, holding up the bags in my hands, and she walks away from the door and goes to the couch.
“What did you get?” she asks.
“I got a whole bunch of things to help. Saltines, ginger ale, ginger tea, ginger root. Also, I got some prenatal vitamins for you,” I tell her, grabbing the box of crackers and walking up to her. “This should help.” I sit on the table in front of her.
“Thank you, but you shouldn’t have done that. Someone probably snapped pictures of you buying prenatal vitamins, Carter,” she whispers. “What are you doing here?” She looks up and shivers, and I pull my jacket off and slip it over her shoulders.
“You didn’t even give me a chance to speak before you ran out,” I tell her, and she looks down at the pack of crackers in her hands. “We need to talk.”
“There really isn’t much to say,” she says to me. “I’m pregnant.”
“We are pregnant,” I tell her.
“Pretty sure I’m the one carrying the baby,” she tells me. Opening the crackers, she grabs one and puts it in her mouth. I reach out to push her hair away, but she moves out of the way to make sure I don’t touch her.
“We need to talk,” I tell her.
“There really isn’t much to talk about. The result is still the same,” she says, folding her legs under her. “I’m pregnant.”
“How far along are you?” I ask her. I want to know everything. “Do you feel the baby moving?”
“I have no idea. Maybe like a month,” she answers and then throws the crackers down and runs to the bathroom. This time, I take off with her, and I reach out and hold her hair back.
I squat next to her and rub her back. “Can you go away?” she croaks.
“No,” I say. “Never again.” She looks at me and shakes her head and slowly gets up, walking to the sink and leaning down to take a couple of sips of water and rinse out her mouth.
I walk out with her and grab a can of ginger ale, bringing it to her. “I never slept with her.” I say the five words that I’ve been repeating in my head since she walked out of my house. Her eyes look at me with tears, but I don’t stop. “It was all a lie.”
“What?” she asks, getting up now and walking away from me.
“I fucked up because I believed something that wasn’t true,” I tell her. “Honestly, that is what it comes down to.” She looks at me, shaking her head.
“You broke my heart on purpose.” She holds her chest, and I want to kick my own ass.
“It was a misunderstanding,” I tell her. “Jennifer told me that you were taking a job in New York at that party.” Looking at her, I say, “It was a misunderstanding.”
“It was a misunderstanding? You had a naked fucking woman in your bed and a condom wrapper on the table by the bed,” she points out, a sob escaping from her. “Why?”
“’Cause I’m a fucking insecure asshole who thought you were using him because he’s an actor in Hollywood,” I tell her, getting up and running my hands through my hair. “So I paid her to come home with me. I’m not proud of my actions.”
“Not proud of your actions? Are you kidding me?” she says, throwing up her hand and walking to the door. “Get out.”
“Erin, we need to talk about us,” I tell her, walking to her.
“There is no us.” She shakes her head. “The only thing we need to talk about is the baby.”
“This isn’t over,” I tell her, walking out of the door.
“It was over the minute you decided to do what you did,” she says, slamming the door, turning the lock with a click.
“It’s not over!” I yell at the door, waiting for her to say something. When she doesn’t, I turn and go away but only for the time being.
Chapter Thirty
Erin
I slam the door behind him when he walks out. He lied to me. Everything that I went through, everything that I felt was because he thought I was using him. I shake my head and walk to the kitchen, opening the white pla
stic bags that he dumped there and taking out the stuff. He got everything from ginger root to ginger tea to ginger snaps. I shake my head and walk over to the couch, sitting down and closing my eyes. My hands go to my stomach, and I say, “I love you.” Getting up, I walk to my bedroom and lie down on the bed, closing my eyes and slowly falling asleep.
I wake to a soft knock on the door, and I get up, the motion making me a little sick. I breathe in just a touch, and the knocking continues. I get up and see it’s almost dark outside, the sun setting. I unlock the door and open it, and I’m stunned. He is standing there with flowers and a stuffed animal under one arm and both his hands holding plastic bags.
“I brought some more things.” He walks in, and I watch him walking over to the kitchen, dumping the bags on the counter. “You look better,” he tells me, and I walk over. “I didn’t know what you were feeling like, so I stopped and got you a bunch of things. I have some soup, and then I have some pasta mild on the sauce so the acid doesn’t give you heartburn,” he says, taking out the containers. “I got you some chicken soup with rice. They said online that bland carb food helps.”
“Carter,” I say.
“I also got popsicles and Jell-O,” he tells me. “What do you feel like eating?”
I shrug. “Chicken soup,” I tell him, and he pours some in the bowl and puts it in the microwave. I walk over to the dining room table and sit down. “Thank you,” I tell him when he puts the bowl down in front of me. He goes over to the bags and warms up his own food and comes back to the table. I stir the soup with my spoon and watch him sit in front of me. “This is a little overwhelming.”
“I know,” he says, cutting into his food that looks like chicken parm. “It’s surreal.”
“I took seven tests,” I tell him, and he looks at me. “I wanted to be a hundred percent sure.”
“Were they all positive?” he asks me and smiles when I nod my head.
“I am going to tell my father tomorrow,” I tell him. “I’ll FaceTime my mother at the same time.”
“I’ll come with you,” he tells me, and I drop my spoon.
“Listen, this is all happening too fast,” I tell him. “One day, I wake up and go about my day, and by the end of the day, I’m pregnant, and all of a sudden, I’m going to be a mom.”
“Erin,” he says, putting his fork down. “There are certain things in life you are never sure of, at least for me. But there is one thing I’m a hundred percent sure of. I love our child with everything that I am. I never thought I would be a dad, never thought I would deserve to be a dad.” I look at him. “Maybe I don’t deserve it, but it’s here, and I’m so in love I can’t believe it. I wanted to tell every person I saw today.” He smiles. “Every single person. I don’t deserve you to be kind to me, I don’t deserve anything that you are giving me, but thank you for giving me the chance to be a father.” He looks down and then looks back up with a smile plastered on his face. “I’m going to be a dad.”
“So I guess this means you want to be fully involved?” I ask him.
“Every single step of the way,” he tells me. “Doctor visits, Lamaze classes, crib buying. You name it, I want to be there.”
“Okay,” I say. As much as he hurt me, I would never take this away from him or our child. “When it comes to the baby, you will be there every step of the way.”
“That means breaking the news to your father,” he tells me. “Besides, there are some things that need to be said, and it’s better if it’s said with the family.”
I push the soup away. “Are you not hungry?” he asks me, and I just shrug.
“Is there anymore of that?” I point at his dish. He pushes his dish in front of me and grabs my soup. “No, I’m not taking your food.”
“You aren’t, but my child is,” he says, pointing at the dish. “Eat.” I roll my eyes at him and eat the rest of his food. “Be careful how far back you roll those eyes. I’ve heard they can get stuck there.” He cleans up and then looks over at me with that smirk on his face. “I’m going to go so you can rest, but I’ll be here tomorrow at nine, and we can have breakfast before we head over to your father’s.”
I nod my head at him, and he looks at me. “Can you call me if you need anything?”
“I’ll be fine,” I tell him, and he just nods and walks out. Stopping at the door, he turns to say something, but he must change his mind because he just turns back and walks out the door.
“He’s a funny guy, your father,” I tell my stomach, turning and getting ready for bed. The next day, I wake, and the minute I open my eyes, I have to rush to the bathroom. By the time nine a.m. rolls around, I’m lying on the couch trying to eat ginger snaps but failing miserably. I pick up my phone and call Carter, who answers on the second ring. “Change of plans. I’m going to go to my dad’s later.”
“Why?” he asks, and I take a sip of water.
“Because I literally can’t move off the couch,” I tell him and then hear a knock. “Are you here?”
“I am. Open the door,” he says, and I roll off the couch and walk to the door slowly, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. “How long have you been sick?”
“No clue,” I tell him and walk back over to the couch, not even caring that I’m wearing my pjs and no bra.
He walks to the bathroom and comes back with a wet cloth. “Did you know that they don’t call it morning sickness anymore?” He puts the rag on the back of my neck. “It’s called nausea and vomiting from pregnancy.” I look at him sideways. “I spent the night reading up on morning sickness.” He sits down by my feet. “Also, if you are six weeks pregnant, our baby is the size of a pea and the shape of the letter C and little buds have formed that will be the arms and legs. Is there anything else you want to know because I’m pretty sure I learned everything around four a.m. this morning?”
“I can’t deal with you when you’re like this,” I tell him and just lay my head on the back of the couch, closing my eyes. I drift off to sleep, and when I wake up, he’s sitting at the end of the couch reading the book What to Expect When You’re Expecting. A cover has been draped over me. “What time is it?”
“A little after eleven,” he tells me. “Do you want something?”
“No,” I tell him and slowly get up and go to the bathroom. I get dressed and get ready to go to my father’s. I walk out of the bedroom and see him sitting on the couch. “I think we should go.”
“Lead the way,” he says, putting the book down on the table. I walk out, and after arguing with him about taking two cars instead of one, he wins, and we make our way over to my father’s. When he opens the door and sees us, his smile disappears, and in its place a frown comes over him.
“Hey, Daddy,” I say, coming in. “Sorry to just drop in, but I need to talk to you and Mom,” I tell him, and he just looks over at Carter who nods at him. “We need to do this fast,” I tell him as the nausea returns in full force. We walk to the living room, and I take my phone out to FaceTime my mother. “Hey, Mom, it’s me.”
“Oh, hi, sweetie,” she says, and I see she is sitting on the couch. “I’m here with Dad,” I say, turning the phone, and she smiles and waves at my father who just scowls. “And Carter.” I turn the phone, and now my mother scowls also. I place the phone down on the table and sit down, and I make sure she can see us all. “There is no easy way to say this,” I start, and my father just shakes his head.
“You are not marrying him!” he shouts, and Carter now shakes his head.
“I’m not marrying him,” I say and then look over at Carter who glares at my father. “But we are having a baby.” I just say it, and my father shoots out from his chair. Carter springs up also, and I spring up, standing in the middle of them, the fast motion making me queasy. “Can you both calm down?”
“How can you do this?” He looks over at Carter.
“I am not going to apologize for having a child,” Carter says.
“What about her finding you in bed with a whore?
” my father shouts, and Carter just looks at me.
“I never slept with her!” Carter shouts. “Never even touched her.”
“Lies!” my father shouts. “You are a liar.”
“I’m a lot of things, but a liar isn’t one of them,” he says softly, and then I hear my mother suddenly sobbing, and we all look over at her.
“My baby is having a baby,” she says and then looks at my father. “Our baby is having a baby.”
“I know, sweetheart.” His tone changes, and he grabs my phone and leaves the room.
“Well, that went well,” I say to Carter who is just standing there.
“I never, ever touched her. Not even a hair on her head.” His voice is husky. “After she left, I burned the bed on the beach.” My mouth opens in shock. “You have to know. And as much as I want to forget that moment, you have to know,” he says and then looks up and starts to say something, but my father returns, and you can see that he had tears in his eyes.
“I’m sending a plane for your mother. She wants to be here for the doctor’s appointment,” my father says, and I shake my head.
“I’m going with Carter,” I tell him. “It’s just us for the first one.” My father stares at me. “I love you, but you know that it’s the right thing to happen. No matter what he did to me.” I look down, and the tear comes, and I wipe it away. “It’s still his right to be there if he wants to.”
“I want to,” he says, coming to me and putting his hand on my back. “I want to be there as much as she’ll let me.”
“You better not fuck this up,” my father tells him. “This isn’t a game.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” he says, and then he looks at me. “I will not fuck this up.”
I nod at him, and when we leave my father’s, I sigh in relief. “I’m happy that is over,” I tell him, and he opens the car door for me. He doesn’t say anything, and right now, I’m so tired I can’t even think. When he gets in the car, he looks at me. “What?” I ask him.
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