by Lara Swann
“You asked me all the way out here to talk about your love life?” He raises an eyebrow at me, his tone dubious, so I just come right out with it.
“She’s pregnant.” I say bluntly, then knock back the rest of my drink as his eyes bug out of his head.
“Pregnant?!” He stares at me, the beer half-raised to his mouth forgotten. “Shit, bro.”
“Yeah. I know.”
His reaction is everything I would have liked to indulge in earlier - only there, with Chloe looking so vulnerable, I didn’t know how to without it coming out wrong. Now…now I think it’s too late for that kind of pure shock.
I raise a hand over toward the bar, hoping the girl serving is paying attention. They don’t often do table-service here, but there have been a couple of times…she catches my eye and I nod, giving a brief smile of appreciation as she pulls another drink for me.
“My god, bro.” Blake says, shaking his head. “And it’s yours?”
“Yep, it’s mine.” I repeat, answering the same questions I was asking only a couple of hours ago. “No question.”
I don’t tell him exactly why that’s so absolute - that Chloe is the kind of girl where if she says she hasn’t slept with anyone else, she definitely hasn’t - but the certainty in my tone is enough for him.
“She’s keeping it.” I add, before he can ask.
I don’t try to voice my confused, mixed emotions about how that doesn’t seem to bother me - or any of the rest of it - to Blake. With him, I don’t have to.
The bar girl comes over with my drink a moment later - and another one for Blake that I feel might end up in front of me - and I slip a tip her way. Right now, I need them to keep coming.
“Well, fuck me sideways.” Blake says, blowing out a long breath. “Shit, man.”
I grunt again, and take another long drink.
“How’d that even happen?” He adds, finally raising his glass back to his lips.
I raise an eyebrow at him. “You need me to explain the mechanics to you? Been that long, huh?”
He grunts at me, but doesn’t otherwise respond to my sardonic attitude. I guess I get a little leeway right now.
“Just thought you didn’t take those kinds of risks, is all.” He shrugs, and I close my eyes.
Yeah. He’s right. I don’t. Except Chloe was so fucking tempting and I didn’t even think…
“Yeah, I know.” I shake my head. “My fucking fault, too - I should’ve known better. Just assumed she was on the pill.”
Of course she wasn’t. Of course, the sweet religious virgin won’t know the first thing about basic contraception - won’t expect to need it.
All I was worried about was catching something nasty. The other side of protection never occurred to me - every other girl has always thought about that for me.
Blake shakes his head again, letting out a low whistle.
“Wow, man. I don’t even know what to say.”
I grunt again. That much is obvious - but I didn’t expect anything else. That’s not why I needed to see him.
“Just drink with me, bro. I need to get my mind to shut up before I can deal with this.”
He nods, decisively, and clinks his pint against mine. “That - I can do.”
We finish those drinks in the next few minutes - and another couple of pints appear before us. I tip the girl heavily again, picking up the next with the kind of resoluteness I haven’t approached drinking with for a long time. I guess Blake’s going to be staying here tonight, too.
“She’s kinda cute, don’t you think?”
“Huh.” I glance up, frowning. “Who?”
Chloe? He can’t be talking about that already. It’s way too early to be thinking of—
“The girl over there.” He nods in the direction of the girl manning the bar, and I blink.
“Oh.” I glance over again. “Right.”
I’m not sure whether he’s actually distracted by a short skirt and pretty face right now, or if he’s trying to distract me - but he drops it at my obvious disinterest. I take another gulp of my beer, the world finally starting to feel a little more hazy - a little quieter - and run a hand through my hair.
“Shit, man.” I mutter.
The idea of it all is just…crazy.
“Yeah.” He says, his tone sympathetic as he watches me. “What d’you think you’re gonna do?”
I look up at him, leaning back in the booth and letting out a long breath.
“I guess I’m gonna be a Dad.” I finally say, the words feeling strange on my tongue, almost like someone else is saying them. “Nothing else for it, right?”
I feel like that thought - the idea of being a Dad - should be more uncomfortable, and I’m not sure whether it’s more scary that it’s happening…or that I’m not totally upset about it. I mean, something like that changes everything. That bothers me, right? It has to. My whole life…god, this is so confusing.
He gives me a long look, then raises his glass in salute. “That’s decent of you, man.”
I blink, my mouth twisting at the comment.
Blake, too? What’s with everyone thinking there’s some other option here? It might be a messed up situation, but I’ve got to fucking try at least.
Then again, Blake’s father never stuck around, so maybe he sees things differently. Mine did, but…fuck, I kind of wish he hadn’t.
You’ll do better than that. You have to.
“There’s no way I could be a fucking absentee father, Blake.” I say, shaking my head as some of the all-new emotions finally make their way into words. “Knowing that there’s a kid of mine out there, not knowing who I am, thinking I abandoned them…fuck, no.”
He salutes me again. “As I said, fucking decent of you.”
I stop trying to argue the point. Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t think sticking around for the kid you made is fucking decent. It’s more bare minimum. It’s how you do the rest of it that determines how decent you are, I guess.
And fuck me if I have a clue about that.
“So, then, I guess…” Blake continues, taking another long draught of beer. “Congratulations?”
That makes me laugh, the sound sputtering out of me as I hold onto my glass.
“Yeah.” I say, throwing my head back against the booth. “Congratulations, sure.”
We clink glasses and down our pints, and I’m more grateful than I can say that there’s already another one on the way. I’m finally starting to get past some of the shock and fear of it all, and I don’t know whether it’s just the alcohol…but I think I’m starting to feel a little giddy about this too.
“A Dad…me…with a kid…” I shake my head. “Never would’ve guessed that.”
“Yeah, me neither.”
“What the fuck do I know about any of that?” I ask, feeling somewhere between bewildered…and, if I’m honest, a little exhilarated too. Yeah, my emotions are so messed up right now. “How am I gonna raise a kid?”
“Not a clue.” Blake offers, unhelpfully. “Maybe the Mom knows what she’s doing?”
That makes me laugh, too.
“Better than me, I guess. She’s got this kind of…wholesome…vibe to her, so that’s something - seemed pretty terrified earlier today, though.”
“Yeah, well, no shit. Kids are terrifying.”
“Hey, not helping.” I mumble, starting on my next pint.
“Well, they are. God, I can’t think of anything worse than finding out—”
“Hey!” I lean forward and prod him.
“Sorry.” He shrugs, taking another drink. “I mean, you’ll work it out?”
I grunt at him, and he tries continuing, only half-successfully.
“Plenty of idiots have kids. You’ll be better than some of them, surely.” He says, obviously thinking out loud. “Just try, I guess, bro. Not much more you can do than that.”
“Yeah, guess so.” I mumble again, mostly into my drink.
I can’t help feeling that I do want mo
re than that, though. If this is going to happen, I want to do it right. It’s not fair on the kid if I don’t. I just…I don’t have a clue what doing it right means.
“I’ve gotta say, though, I thought this was gonna be something we could clear up by knocking a few heads together - maybe punching a few guys.” Blake shakes his head. “I’m not sure I can help you out with this one, bro.”
“All I need tonight is a drinking buddy.” I say, raising my glass for emphasis, my interest in talking about it fading with every exchange we have.
There were things I needed to get off my chest, sure, and thoughts that I couldn’t stop myself voicing - but that’s not why I came out. Tonight isn’t about working shit out - it’s about passing time until the knowledge that I’m expecting a kid isn’t so new and impossible anymore.
Blake nods, his expression almost serious as he raises his own glass. We knock them together before draining both and settling in for a long night together, as I work my way up to the blissful oblivion I’m looking for.
Anything to stop me thinking about how the hell we’re going to make this work.
Chapter Nine
Chloe
I spend far longer than usual trying to work out what to wear to the class on Wednesday - trying on a dozen different things before I finally have to leave if I don’t want to be late and race down the stairs.
It’s not until my Mom calls out from the sitting room that I realize just how much effort I’ve obviously made, though.
“Chloe?” She pokes her head around the door, slight confusion written on her face. “You’re looking…nice…tonight. Is this for MICA?”
I glance down at myself, feeling my face turning red as I notice the jewelery I don’t usually wear, the pretty, slightly shimmery black top that would fit better at a bar than an art class, and the cute denim skirt that doesn’t often make it out of my dresser.
“Um…” I stumble, far too aware that I’m also running late. “Yeah, I…er…I wanted to make a good impression tonight. There’s—there’s another gallery owner coming to observe us.”
That’s a total lie, and I’m awful at those, but Mom just frowns at me.
“We, um, there’s a group of us that might go out for a quick drink afterward.” I add, suddenly seizing on the chance to give a reason for being late home tonight. “It would be a good chance to get to know some of the others, chat about the exhibition, everything—so I, ah, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t just wearing dungarees and an old shirt this time.”
She nods, some of the confusion clearing, but her expression still concerned.
“Okay, sweetie, but make sure you’re careful about where you go - I don’t know what these art types are like, but there are some unsavory places around and you don’t want to get mixed up with any of that.”
“I won’t, Mom, I promise.” I say, conveniently ignoring the fact I’ve already done all that. “I’ve gotta go now though - have a good evening - don’t wait up!”
I dash out of the door as I say it, not faking the urgency as I curse myself for how long it took to choose a simple outfit.
It’s not even like it matters. This isn’t a date. It’s just a…discussion. About the baby. Oh, God help me, my baby…our baby…
The nerves threaten to swamp me again as I think about Ash…and our baby…but I try to push them aside as I jog toward the bus stop, my art supplies rattling in the bag at my side as I hope I haven’t missed it. I’m not sure I’m fit enough to jog all the way to MICA - and I definitely can’t afford a cab.
Now that I’ve got the baby to think about, I need to make sure every spare scrap of change goes toward that. I can barely even think about how expensive it’s going to be.
I see it stopped there just as I’m running up - and dash for it, jumping on just before the doors close. I sag against the luggage section, one hand resting on my belly as I sigh.
“Chloe?”
I straighten with a jerk as I hear a familiar voice, my hand dropping away and my stomach churning as I wonder whether that gesture was obvious. I keep doing that - stroking or touching my belly - it’s becoming an unconscious gesture and I’m terrified that someone might notice and mention it to my parents.
“Mrs Anderson.” I acknowledge, trying not to sound strained as I look over at the short woman who’s a regular at my parents’ shop. I think she comes in at least three times a week.
“You look nice this evening, dear, where are you off to?”
I try not to blush at the comment, and instead launch into a rambling discussion about the art class I’m taking, before answering all the various questions she has about how my parents are doing. It’s enough to distract me for the journey and I get off twenty minutes later, relieved that the discussion stayed that innocuous.
Maybe I’m a little paranoid about the idea of someone seeing something and telling my parents - but they just know so many people around here, and…I can’t bring myself to think about what might happen if they found out, or how I’d ever explain this to them. I know I’m going to have to eventually, but…not now.
Not while everything is still so uncertain and confusing.
I mean, I don’t even know what to think about Ash anymore. I never expected anything from him, and now…
You don’t even know he’s going to turn up. He could have changed his mind.
The thought keeps running through my head. We messaged only this morning to agree where and when he was going to pick me up after class, but even so…I’m not sure I believe he’s actually going to be there. He could freak out at the last minute, decide this is all too much…I still don’t know what he really thinks.
He was more supportive than I ever would have guessed when I told him about it, but…that was a few days now. He’s had time to think. Anything could have happened. Maybe he’s meeting me to tell me he’s changed his mind. Maybe—
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
I can’t get the thoughts out of my head. For once, I can barely focus on the art class. My heart is in my throat and my mind is racing, the knot in my stomach turning over and over as I try to guess how this evening will go - whether it will even happen. What Ash might say. What I might. How any of this is going to work.
I try to remind myself how much I’m paying to be here, but that just makes me feel worse. If I’d known about the baby then, maybe I wouldn’t have splashed out on it like this - as much as I want this dream to come true, now that I’ve got a baby coming…things are different.
Maybe Mom and Dad were right - maybe the course was a bad idea and I should have kept that money, just in case. But who could have predicted this?
They certainly weren’t talking about in case you suddenly have a baby.
It does change things, though. Everything.
It all feels different now - and…if I’m honest…it doesn’t feel like a bad thing, either. I’ve gotten used to the idea far quicker than I would have thought possible. I keep thinking about it - my baby - talking to it in my mind, trying to create plans and ideas and imagining what it might be like. I never thought I was maternal - I guess I never really thought about it - but now…now I want to be. I bite my lip as I wonder what Ash might think of that - whether I might even tell him any of it.
Is he the kind of guy I can talk to about this stuff? Will he get it? Does he feel the same, or is this just something he feels he needs to deal with? I don’t want my baby to be some kind of problem he thinks he needs to solve—
Stop it. You don’t know him. You don’t know anything. Wait and see.
Waiting is so hard, though. I’ve wanted to message him a dozen times, just to see what he’s thinking, but I’ve managed to stop myself. Just about.
The end of the class can’t come soon enough, and when it’s finally over I pack my hardly-started piece of work away and speed walk out of the room. I’m not meeting Ash at the college - I’m too worried someone might see - and I can barely keep control of my emotions as I walk the few blocks away tha
t we’d agreed on, the hope and fear clashing within me continuously.
I don’t know what I expect, but whatever it is, I know I’m scared I’ll be disappointed.
I can’t believe how quickly this baby has come to mean so much to me - and I know that’s the other reason I haven’t said anything to my parents yet. Right now, it’s all mine - in a way that nothing else in my life ever has been - and I want to keep it that way. At least for the moment.
I want the chance to work some of this out for myself, before all of their opinions can overwhelm me. It’s my baby, and while I feel a little guilty that it’s the biggest secret I’ve ever kept from them, it’s also strangely liberating.
When I finally round the corner I’ve been looking for, I glance up - to see Ash waiting right there, sitting on his bike, helmet and leathers and everything. I have to stop for a moment, suddenly overwhelmed that he came.
He’s actually here. Just like he said he’d be.
He raises a hand, opening the visor and giving me a wave. “Hey.”
“Hey.” I say back, suddenly feeling shy again - but I move toward him anyway, seeing the smile that’s half-hidden behind the helmet as I do.
We pause for a moment, just looking at each other, and I want to both say nothing and a million things all at once. We settle for the first, and even though some of my anxiety bounces up and down inside me, I figure that so long as he’s here, we can get to all the questions.
He reaches around and hands me a helmet, cocking his head at me in question. “Anywhere you want to get dinner in particular?”
Okay. Good first question. Just a million minus one to go.
“Um…” I glance around. “Maybe not around here? Somewhere…I haven’t been before...that would be good.”
He raises an eyebrow at me, and I shift a little as the words feel like an echo of what I asked Nat for all those weeks ago. Only this time, I’m not seeking adventure so much as anonymity. This part of town, there might be people from my art class, or who’ve seen me hanging out with Nat, or even some of my parents’ friends out to dinner—
“Okay.” He says agreeably, not questioning me further, and I can’t help the slight relief. I’m not sure how I would have explained not wanting to be seen with him in a non-offensive way if he’d pressed further. “I’m sure I can show you something new.”