by Claire Kent
The subject had distracted her during the elevator ride, however, which was good because the motion made her head spin.
As the doors slid open on the ground floor, she started feeling nauseated again.
“Shit,” she whispered, closing her eyes.
“Almost there,” Seth said. “My car is waiting right outside the door.”
He was being very helpful and considerate—more than a lot of men would have been—and she’d be an idiot not to realize it.
With his support, she trudged through the lobby and across the sidewalk to his waiting car. It was a very expensive luxury car. The same blue as his tie.
He was not supposed to be parked here, but he hadn’t gotten a ticket. Her father said that he was going to drive his own car to the hospital, so Seth would be able to leave whenever he wanted.
He handed Seth her stuff before he headed to his own car, and Seth opened the door to the passenger seat for her.
Erin was feeling sicker and sicker. Felt familiar waves of heat and nausea wash over her.
“Oh, God,” she mumbled.
Seth seemed to recognize the signs.
“Try to get in the car first,” he said, his voice huskier than normal, “so you’ll be sitting down.”
He was right, so she managed to make it into the car with a lot of help from Seth.
She was sweating, panting, and shaking uncontrollably when he hurried to the driver’s side.
“We’re on our way now,” he told her, his voice gentler than it had been before. “It won’t be long.”
Erin groaned and felt her stomach start to churn. At the same time she felt the baby kick out at her insides with sharp little jabs.
“Oh, God,” she moaned, holding up the trashcan. “Just kill me now.”
Then she started to heave again.
***
It was several hours later when Erin finally trudged back into her apartment.
This time, at least, she was able to stand on her own very tired feet, and she didn’t need the trashcan anymore.
Thank God.
They’d gotten to the emergency room in very good time, and Seth had ordered the hospital staff around with brusque efficiency until Erin got immediate attention. She felt a little guilty because of everyone else who’d been waiting before they arrived, but not guilty enough to object to Seth’s tactics more than a little.
They’d given her fluids intravenously and medicine to stop the vomiting, after passing an intense inquisition from Seth on the safety and potential risks of the medication. The doctor had determined that Erin's illness was almost certainly a virus that she'd taken really hard and—after a few tests—they'd verified that the baby was fine.
So all Erin needed to do was recover from it.
Returning to her apartment was certainly a better experience than leaving it, and—to her surprise—Seth was still beside her on her return. She was leaning on him as little as she could now, but it was comforting to have his arm in place in case she started to sway.
She’d expected him to leave much earlier, but he’d blandly announced that he was taking her home, before either she or her father could suggest otherwise. Her dad had been agreeable and said that would allow him to stop by the market to pick up a few groceries on his way back.
Stepping into her apartment, Erin felt completely wiped out. But the fact of no longer throwing up was a blessing. It made everything so much better, so she wasn’t even unduly annoyed by Seth’s presumption or pushiness, despite the fact that he kept giving her advice and instructions on how she was supposed to take care of herself until she got better.
“And don’t stay by yourself,” he continued, taking her purse and dropping it onto a chair in the living room. “I know you like to be stubborn, but you need to have someone with you until you're well again.”
Erin rolled her eyes. Her voice was scratchy, and it hurt a little to talk, but she wouldn't let something like that stop her from responding. “I know. Dad’s going to stay with me, and—if ever he can’t—Liz will come over.”
“Good.” Seth didn’t even look tired, even though he’d been up all night. His face was slightly damp with perspiration, but otherwise there were no signs of stress or fatigue. His suit looked like it was still perfectly pressed.
There was something almost unnatural about such composure.
Erin sneered at the thought as she let him help her into her bedroom. Very obnoxious—that's what it was. Especially since she was such a mess.
But then she told herself that she shouldn’t be so grumpy after the way Seth had helped them tonight.
She really was very grateful. Which made her feel even snippier with him than usual.
As they stepped into her bedroom, Erin moaned softly. The room looked disgusting. The bed wasn’t made, and the air still had a hint of foul smell.
She wanted to collapse onto her bed, but she felt too repulsed to do so.
“What’s wrong?” Seth asked, eyeing her face with impersonal scrutiny.
“I’m trying to decide whether I just want to get in bed or if I have the energy to take a shower first.”
“You’ll probably feel better if you get cleaned up a little.”
“I suppose that means I stink.”
His cocked eyebrow was her silent answer.
She showered quickly and pulled on clean pajamas that felt absolutely wonderful.
“Your bedding is a mess, so I thought I’d remake your bed,” Seth said when she emerged from the bathroom. “Do you have clean sheets?”
Erin felt ridiculously emotional all of a sudden and was absurdly touched by the thoughtful offer. Her face crumpled, and her mouth wobbled dangerously.
Seth took a step back. “Oh, damn. Please don’t cry. I can let your father make your bed if it means that much to you.”
Erin sniffed and managed not to break down. Knew she’d be heartily embarrassed by her irrational behavior when she finally recovered from this. “In the hall closet.”
When he returned, she helped him make the bed. He wouldn’t let her move very much, but she helped him with the fitted sheet and also helped him fold down the covers the way she liked them.
Then her bed was all fresh and clean and inviting. She couldn’t wait anymore. Didn’t care if Seth was standing there.
She crawled into bed with a blissful sigh.
Seth didn’t move. Just stood there watching her.
Sometimes, it was kind of frustrating to have no idea what was going on in his mind.
“Thanks,” she whispered. “Really, Seth. I know I’m kind of ornery, but thanks for all your help tonight.”
He nodded and looked slightly awkward again. She had a suspicion that he was like her—didn’t like to accept thanks that were too earnest or sincere. “No problem.”
“Well, it was kind of a problem for you. I’m sorry you had to cancel a date.”
“What makes you think that?”
“I heard you on the phone in the hospital, calling her up to cancel. I know this wasn’t how you’d planned to spend your Friday night.”
He gave a dismissive shrug. “Don’t worry about it. The date was no big deal.”
“Even so, I’m sorry you had to cancel it. You really didn’t have to do this, you know. It wasn’t your responsibility.”
Seth’s expression started to look exasperated. “How many times do I have to defend my involvement in this pregnancy?”
At his sharp tone, Erin realized he’d misunderstood her. She began to speak but had to pause as a huge yawn ripped through her. Then, “I know. I wasn’t talking about the pregnancy. Tonight, you were doing way more than that. I mean, tonight really was beyond the call of duty.”
He shifted his weight slightly and glanced away. “You were sick. So I helped you. Nothing to get worked up about.”
Erin pulled the covers up higher and looked at him through bleary eyes. “Yeah, but I still wouldn’t have expected it.”
His tone changed,
sounded a little insulted. “Why not? What kind of selfish pig would I be if I’d found you sick and helpless and then gone on merrily to my date?”
Erin blinked rapidly. Could barely stay awake. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”
It was practically morning now, and Erin’s endless night was finally coming to an end.
Thank God.
She mumbled just before she fell asleep, “Night, baby.” She rubbed her belly fondly. Then vaguely remembered Seth was still in the room. “You too. Glad you’re not a selfish pig.”
She was mostly asleep, so she couldn’t be sure, but she thought she heard Seth chuckling.
Eight
“Dam—” Erin bit off her explosion of frustration in a habit of checking her language that was becoming automatic. Settled instead for an outraged exclamation of “Seth!”
She rubbed her face with her hands and tried to remember how many times they’d had this argument over the last couple of months. Too many to count. This was the first time it had pushed her into screaming at him, though. “I’ve told you and I’ve told you and I’ve told you! I don’t want a nanny!”
Seth was angry now too and equally frustrated. Erin was sure of it—if only because his shoulders were tense and, when he wasn’t speaking, his lips were pressed together so tightly they were practically white. “I understand that it’s not your first choice, but I would think you’d be able to put your selfish hang-ups aside and think instead about the well-being of our daughter.”
Erin was close to tears now—of anger and hopeless exasperation. They’d been arguing for over forty minutes, and they weren't any closer now to resolution than they’d been when they started.
She wasn’t actually used to arguing with men this way. Marcus had never argued with her at all. He’d let her talk, and then he just did whatever he wanted.
Seth, however, wanted her to change her mind.
After months of putting off final decisions about the care of their child, they’d both realized their time was finally running out. There was just over one month left of the pregnancy. So Seth had come over to Erin’s apartment for dinner, so they could discuss their differences in a mature and rational way and thus work things out to the satisfaction of both.
Their mature discussion had spiraled into this. Both of them standing in the middle of the living room, Seth glaring coldly and making snide comments while Erin shouted at him and tried not to cry.
Her back was hurting, her feet were hurting, her neck was hurting, and her head was hurting. The baby kept rolling around and kicking her in the bladder.
And she couldn’t make Seth disappear off the face of the earth just by wishing for it.
All in all, it was a very bad evening.
“Selfish!” Erin choked. “I’m not being selfish, and they’re not hang-ups! I’m thinking about her. I don’t want her raised by a stranger, and I don’t want someone living with me who ends up knowing my daughter better than I do!”
She was revealing too many of her fears and insecurities in her uncalculated, emotional response, so she paused for a minute, breathing deeply, trying to get control of herself. “Besides,” she continued, in a more level tone, “there’s no room here for a nanny. The apartment has only two bedrooms. Unless you’re going to suggest I turn the nursery into the nanny’s room and stick the crib in a back closet for the baby.”
Seth was slowly losing patience. She saw him clench his jaw. “That’s not a legitimate issue. I could easily—”
Erin gasped roughly before he could finish. “You could what? Buy me a larger apartment?”
He rolled his eyes at her shrill tone. “Yes. I could. I can easily afford it, and it would be more comfortable and convenient for everyone.”
She was sputtering now in her outrage. There was no other word for it. She hated it—hated that she was so emotional when Seth was so perfectly controlled. Her tone was harsh and biting as she responded, “Sure, why not? I’ll just let you set me up in some overpriced luxury apartment.”
She pushed her hair out of her face, annoyed that the loose tendrils were sticking to her damp, hot face. “And while I’m at it, I could quit my job too. Just lie around and take care of your baby. Let you support me like some sort of mistress—except one who breeds instead of fuc—” She swallowed over the word with a frustrated toss of her head. “Instead of has sex,” she amended, recognizing in annoyance that the substituted words didn’t have as much rhetorical power as the original.
Seth took a deep breath and began in clipped tones, with the air of a man who was striving to tolerate an irrational female, “I never suggested you quit your job, and your implications are insulting.”
“They are insulting, To me. How dare you suggest you’d support me? I should have expected some sort of ploy like this for more control, but you can’t do it. You can’t just barge in like you did when I was sick last month, order people around, and take over everything.”
“Erin!” The one word was a bellow—but a calculated one, just loud enough to get her attention. “Why are you being so stubborn about this? It’s not about control. It’s just about money you won’t accept. But it’s just money. It’s meaningless.”
Erin had to move around because she was getting stiff from standing tensely too long in one position. Her movements were awkward and clumsy, and she was vaguely embarrassed that Seth was there to witness them.
Then finally she responded bitterly, “You just say that because you have money. Money isn’t meaningless to me, and it is a means of control.”
Seth raised a hand to rub the bridge of his nose between his fingers and thumb. “It can be. I agree. But it’s not in this. I’m her father. Why the hell can’t I pay for my daughter’s daycare?”
All of a sudden, Erin lost her steam. She felt briefly like a deflated balloon and barely had the energy to keep standing—but she didn’t want to try to maneuver herself into a chair at this juncture so she shifted her weight from leg to leg.
She was even closer to crying now. It felt like they’d never get past this one issue. “You can. You can pay for it. And I’ll appreciate it. But I don’t want some stranger living with me, doing things for me, mothering my daughter. And don’t insult me again by offering to raise me up to your standard of living.”
The lump in her throat was so painful that she could barely breathe over it, but Seth was blessedly quiet—watching her intently with a characteristically unreadable expression. She went on, “It's not going to happen. I live a middle-class life, and that's not going to change. So my daughter is going to have to muddle through the way everyone else in the world who isn't you does.” Erin arched her spine and rubbed at her lower back. “And she'll be raised to understand that she can stand on her own feet. That she doesn’t need to give up her agency and rely on a man to make her more comfortable, just because he happens to be able to afford it.”
The words spilled out before Erin could think them through—simply the result of months of brooding about them, years living them out with Marcus.
But she must have hit a nerve with Seth. His head jerked. “She’s my daughter too.”
“I know! I know. You’re her father, and I want you to be a father to her. But she’ll be living with me. So it’s different!”
And then, for no reason she could understand, Erin lost it completely. “It’s different! You’ll see her on weekends and write a check now and then. You’ll be there for birthdays and holidays and all the fun parts. You'll get the good feelings of loving a daughter but then get to go back to obsessing about work and dating beautiful women. Not me! I’m going to be the one feeding her, dressing her, putting her to bed, taking care of her, staying up all night with her, disciplining her when she’s bad, trying to teach her to do...everything. I’m going to be around her all the time. I won’t be able to just switch back to my old life and fit her into a tidy compartment like you.”
The words grated on her throat. “I’m in this constantly. Forever. And I don’
t know if I’m going to be able to—” She covered her face with her hands and gave a few, little sobs into her palms.
The emotion almost strangled her as she saw the progression of her days, of her future—inexorable, endless—all defined by this one little life.
She wasn’t angry anymore, not with Seth or anyone else. Instead, she was terrified and totally helpless.
No stronghold ever created could withstand this.
Seth had taken a few steps closer. He looked both worried and awkward. “Erin.” He reached out toward her.
She jerked away. “Don’t touch me.” Then she regretted her automatic response to him.
Seth dropped his hand immediately, and his face twisted uncomfortably. “Erin, don’t cry,” he began, in what she assumed was an attempt to console her.
For some reason, his composed words made her angry again. “I can’t help it,” she snapped, trying to pull herself together. “I can’t just turn it off because you say so. I feel things. I can’t just close down my emotions the way you do.”
Seth tensed. His voice was thick as he asked, “You think that’s what I do?”
“Isn’t it? Look at you.” She glared at him, her eyes trailing from his unrevealing face, to his expensive, immaculate suit, to his hands—which were perfectly relaxed at his sides. It was almost unnatural. And like a slap in the face. “Look at you,” she repeated bitterly.
Suddenly, Seth grabbed her by the shoulders, hauling her closer to him—so close her large belly almost touched his. He met her eyes, and his gaze was intense, speaking, breathtaking. “You think I’m not feeling things? You think this isn’t completely changing my life too? You think I can have a daughter in the world and then just forget she exists—even for a moment?”
Erin gasped in surprise. She rubbed at her running nose and was momentarily speechless. “Well, yes,” she mumbled at last, feeling confused and strangely shaky. “That’s how you’re acting.”
“Well, I can’t.” He wasn’t speaking loudly, but his voice and gaze were deep. “This has been the most terrifying thing I’ve ever done. I never had a family. I don’t know how to do this. I’ve always just walked away—if things threatened to get too hard, too vulnerable. I don’t want to do that with this, but I don’t know how to be a father. I don’t know how to be part of...” His voice dropped off before he’d finished the sentence.