My Father's Best Friend's Secret Baby

by Jamie Knight

  Chapter 38

  Natalia

  Thanksgiving was right around the corner and I knew that it was going to be hard to keep avoiding my dad. I sat, staring at the text that he had sent me a few hours before. I still wasn't quite sure how to respond.

  I was sixteen weeks pregnant.

  The week before, I had had an ultrasound. The medical tech had dropped the wand and gasped a few minutes after placing the cold gel on my belly and waving the thing over my skin.

  “What?” I asked her, afraid that something was wrong with the baby. I looked at the black and white screen, trying to figure out what I was even looking at.

  “Did you know that you are pregnant with twins?” she asked.

  It was my turn to be shocked. I didn't know what to say.

  “See, look,” she said, pointing to the screen. There were two little circles that were moving. She told me that those were their heartbeats. I sat there in silence as she took a bunch of pictures, sending me home with a copy of a picture that was labeled Baby A and Baby B.

  I still hadn't recovered from the shock of finding out that I was having twins. I had started to show, but I was still able to hide my stomach if I wore clothes that were loose enough. But a few people were starting to catch on. I had already been asked a few times if I was pregnant. I had been able to wave it off, saying that I was eating very well and I was starting to pack on the infamous freshman 15.

  I wasn’t sure my dad would be as easy to dismiss.

  As I sat debating how I would answer the text, my phone started to ring. Dad

  Just answer it, I told myself, trying to get my heart to stop racing. I knew that I should just answer the phone because if I didn't, he was probably going to show up unexpectedly and catch me off guard.

  “Hello?” I said, trying to sound as joyful as possible.

  “Hey,” said my dad, sounding so sad.

  “Hey,” I said, sitting up and listening more intently. “Is everything okay?”

  I started to worry immediately. My dad had always been the rock of our family, so hearing him sound so down in the dumps made me think that maybe something serious had happened.

  “Oh, I'm fine, I guess,” he said weakly. “I was just calling— I mean, I was wondering if... Are you going to come home for Thanksgiving?”

  The way that he asked made me feel so bad. I knew that there was no way that I could say no. It had been months since I had seen him and I really missed him a lot. I just wasn't quite sure what I was going to do regarding him about the fact that I was pregnant, if anything at all.

  “Sure, dad, I'll come home for Thanksgiving,” I said. I figured that I was still small enough that I could hide my belly. And as long as it was just my dad and I, I figured that it wouldn't be too much of an issue.

  “Great!” he said. I could almost hear him sighing with relief.

  “Is it going to be just family?” I asked carefully. He paused as if he were thinking of the right way to answer.

  “That was my plan,” he said. “But, if you wanted to bring a boy along, I'm totally fine with that. Just give me a heads up and I'll try to be good.”

  I laughed at the thought of my dad being good.

  “You mean with a rifle in your lap?” I asked playfully. “No, there won't be a boy. It'll just be little old me.”

  I thought of the irony of me calling myself little despite the fact that I had outgrown just about all of my clothes except for a few jogging suits and dresses that fanned out at the waist.

  “I can't wait,” he said.

  We chatted for a few more minutes before hanging up the phone. I inhaled deeply, my heart content to have spoken to my father after so long. I didn't realize how much I had missed him until I heard his voice. And I knew that the best thing for me to do was to tell my dad about the babies. What better time to do that than when I came home for Thanksgiving?

  I didn't know how he would take the news, but I knew that sooner or later, I would have to face the music. I didn't know exactly what my plan was going to be long-term, but I knew for a fact that I was going to be having two babies. It would be great to have my dad's support.

  I knew that he would have questions about the identity of the father, but I definitely had no plans of revealing that information to him. I would find some vague way to say that the father was not going to be involved, which would be all the more reason why I’d need his support.

  The more that I thought about, the more convinced that I became that telling my dad about the babies at Thanksgiving was the best thing for me to do.

  I had seen so many videos of men finding out that they were going to become grandfathers and getting excited or teary eyed. My dad had never been the type to react that way over any of the news that I had shared with him. But, I couldn't help but wonder how he might react, seeing a child of mine with features shared by both him and my mother.

  Thoughts of future Thanksgiving dinners with my babies and my father started to give me hope that things would actually work out for the better. Those happy thoughts stayed with me for the rest of the week as I got mentally prepared to see my dad. I went to the mall and found a burgundy velour sweat suit. It was huge on me, almost falling off it was so baggy. But, it hid my bulky center and widening frame perfectly and was super comfortable.

  I was ready.

  Chapter 39

  Natalia

  I showed up at the house early in the afternoon on Thanksgiving and found my dad wrestling with the raw turkey in the kitchen sink.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” he said, barely looking up. “I'm getting the bird prepped to go into the oven now. Happy Thanksgiving.”

  He grunted as he ran water over the pale turkey that flopped out of his wet hands into the sink. He kept trying to pick it up, only for it to fall out his hands again. I had to stifle a laugh at the sight of him struggling with a mere turkey, this career military commander. It was sweet.

  “Dad, what, uh… what do you have going there…?” I asked, shaking my head.

  “I really don't know,” he said, taking a step back from the sink and staring at the bird that lay there helplessly. My dad was trying to do his best.

  “How about the rest of the food?” I asked, looking around at the kitchen. There were no smells coming from anywhere that signaled that today was Thanksgiving.

  When my mother had been alive, she was in charge of making sure that dinner was cooked for the holidays. She would start about a week in advance, planning out each dish so that it was perfect. No matter where or what we were doing, we always had a full house for the holidays. People loved coming to our house because my mother would cook every side imaginable and never turned anyone away. There was one year that it was pretty much standing room only until it got dark and then everyone started to go on home. It was packed and a little uncomfortable, but our house was always warm and full of love.

  Looking around at our empty kitchen made me feel a sense of pity for us that I hadn't felt before. I felt particularly sad for my father, who had been used to either having huge holiday dinners or spending the holidays with his crew in the Air Force. We had eaten plenty of meals together just the two of us, but this was the first time that we had been sharing a holiday dinner together. Alone.

  I decided to put him out of his misery and take over.

  “Why don't you go into the living room and watch football while I whip up some dinner?”

  He looked up at me as if he were trying to see if I was serious.

  “Are you sure you don't need my help?”

  I hugged my dad and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

  “Dad, to be honest, I am surprised that you even remembered to thaw out the turkey,” I said, patting him on the back. “I'll take it from here. You go take a load off and relax.”

  My dad's eyes started to glimmer.

  “Do you remember that Thanksgiving when we were living in Florida?”

  I smiled, thinking back to that year. I was ten years old. It had
been a particularly hot summer riddled with tons of hurricanes that left many of our neighbors' homes in shambles. But, my mother, being who she was, had invited the whole block over for Thanksgiving and I was almost sure that, with all of the people that were in our house, everyone had showed up. My dad had been deployed overseas, so he wasn't around. The only place that I found any real peace was in my room, so I hid out there most of the time.

  All of a sudden, the door of my room opened and a giant frame filled the doorway.

  “Excuse me, sir,” I said, trying not to panic. “This room is off limits.”

  “Is it?” came the playful response.

  “Dad!” I said, running across the room and jumping into his arms. I melted while he hugged me, clinging onto him for dear life. I was so happy to see him and surprised at the same time. That memory made me feel all warm inside. My mother had been so happy that she cried when she saw him.

  “I don't know what made me really insist that they send me home then,” my dad said, thinking back. “But, something in me knew that I needed to be home. And I am so glad that I did. Your mother kept hugging me, almost like she thought that I was a ghost or something, like I would disappear if she didn't keep hugging me.”

  My dad laughed easily. The smile quickly faded and was replaced by a sadness. It pained my heart to see him so sad.

  “Yeah, that was awesome,” I said, trying my best to sound cheerful, hoping that my dad would hang on to the thought of the happy memory. “Mom talked about that for years.”

  “Yeah, she did,” he nodded, flashing me a smile. But, I could still see the pain hiding behind his eyes.

  I put the turkey in a roasting pain, slathering it with butter and seasoning it like my mother used to do, and put it in the oven. I looked over at my dad and noticed that his eyes were a little wet. I was holding back tears myself and didn't want to make it worse by letting them out.

  “Aren't you supposed to be watching football?” I asked my dad, putting my hands on my hips.

  He shook his head.

  “You're right,” he said, walking off in the direction of the living room.

  I turned around and looked at the empty kitchen and shook my head. I knew that my dad wasn't going to have a huge spread for Thanksgiving like my mother did. I rummaged through the cabinets looking for food that I could use as sides. I found a few boxes of macaroni and cheese, instant mashed potato flakes, and some cans of green beans. It wasn't going to be a gourmet meal, but it would be enough for just my dad and I. I grabbed some flour out of the cabinet and looked for a recipe for pie crust. There was a bunch of apples on the counter that were starting to have brown spots, so I figured that I could make a pie.

  I put on some music and started mixing ingredients into a bowl. It felt good to be back at home with my dad.

  I grabbed the rolling pin from the cabinet under the sink and dumped the dough out on the floured counter top. I went to work, kneading it and rolling it so that it was flat. I looked down at my work with a self-satisfied smile on my face. It felt good to put to use the skills that my mother had taught me. I thought that it was perfect practice for when the babies were born and I have children of my own. I rubbed my belly absentmindedly as I looked over the smooth surface of the dough.

  I jumped with surprise when I heard the doorbell ring.

  “Are you expecting someone?” I yelled to my dad in the other room. He didn't answer.

  “Hey, there!” called out a voice that I knew, a voice that made my stomach churn.

  I had to reach out and grab the counter to steady myself because I felt faint as the realization set in of whose voice I had heard.

  Bradley.

  Chapter 40

  Natalia

  I clutched my belly instinctively, starting to panic a little at the thought of being so close to the father of my children. What if he noticed that I was pregnant? My first thought was to make some excuse about why I had to leave and hightail it out of there right away.

  I shook my head, telling myself to be serious. There was a slim chance that he would even notice that I was pregnant. Even my dad had assumed that I was just gaining the infamous freshman fifteen.

  “It's good to see that you have a healthy appetite,” he had said. “But, you know, you don't have to eat everything that you see.”

  I had simply laughed it off, glad that somehow I had sideswiped an uncomfortable conversation that I had been still gearing myself up mentally to have.

  Now that Bradley had shown up, I knew that there was no way that I was going to attempt to have this conversation. My goal was to get through dinner long enough so that I can make my exit as quickly as possible. The thought of being around Bradley, knowing that I was pregnant while he had no idea started to make me feel nauseous. I hadn't felt nauseous in weeks.

  I went over to the sink and splashed some water on my face, hoping that it would wake me up from whatever nightmare I was having. When that didn't work, I walked on wobbly legs back over to the counter where I had rolled out the pie crust. The counter came up almost to my chest, so my belly was covered when I stood in front of the counter.

  “Guess who decided to join us for dinner?” called my dad gleefully, walking into the kitchen with his hand on Bradley's shoulder. “I had invited him a few weeks back, but never heard from him either way if he was going to take me up on it.”

  “That's great,” I said happily, but while gathering up the dough and forming it back into a ball. I started kneading it again, being careful not to make eye contact with Bradley. I kept working the dough, hoping that they didn't notice my hands shaking.

  “Yeah, I wasn't too sure what I was going to do,” said Bradley, who, from my peripheral vision, I could see looking at the counter nervously. “I didn't want to intrude on your family holiday, but when you told me that you were probably going to spend the holiday alone, I figured that it would be a good idea to stop by. There's no sense in both of us spending the holiday alone. But, it looks like you have Natalia home with you.”

  “I wasn't sure if she was coming, either,” said my dad, looking between Bradley and I, a slight look of confusion on his face. “But, it all worked out. I feel like even though it's a small dinner, the people who matter to me most are all here.”

  My dad beamed as he looked at us. It warmed my heart to see him so happy.

  “I was just watching the game,” said my dad. “Let's grab a few beers and head back into the living room so that we can give Natalia here enough space to work her magic in the kitchen.”

  Bradley sniffed, closing his eyes as he inhaled.

  “It already smells great in here,” he said warmly, smiling at me.

  “Thanks,” I said, still not looking up at him. I could feel him staring at me, his eyes like hot missiles burning my skin.

  “Could you use a hand?” asked Bradley, softening his voice a bit. His tone took on such a silky quality, I could feel the blood rising to my face and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. The last thing that I wanted was to be left alone with Bradley, especially when I was trying to get away from him as soon as possible so that he wouldn't notice my belly and start asking questions.

  “Uh, no, that's okay,” I said quickly, my voice cracking. “I wouldn't want you to miss the big game... ” I attempted a chuckle, fruitlessly.

  I tried to sound easygoing and pleasant, hoping that my dad wouldn't notice the unease in my voice, but the look that he gave me, raising one of his eyebrows questioningly, made me think that he was starting to get a weird vibe.

  My dad hesitated for a moment, looking at me as I kneaded the dough, and then walked over to the pantry and pulled out a six-pack of beers.

  “Nothing cold, old man?” asked Bradley, joking with my father. He laughed and shook his head.

  “No, I already polished off the ones in the fridge,” he said.

  They walked off toward the living room, laughing and joking about beer. I stood there, a smile plastered on my face as they left t
he room. I willed myself to keep looking at the dough, my hands working overtime turning it over and over on the counter. I knew that it was overworked and I would need to throw it away, but I waited until they left the room before I did. As soon as I was sure that they were back in the living room and engrossed in their football game, I tossed the dough in the garbage.

  For some reason, the idea that I had ruined the pie-crust seemed unbearable and made me want to cry. The tears started welling up behind my eyes and, before I could stop them, they were spilling down my cheeks. I ran into the bathroom as fast as my legs would carry me.

  Once in the bathroom, I locked the door and sat down on the toilet. I cried and cried. Hot tears streaked down my face as I cried. I cried for a good while, until I didn't feel like crying anymore. When my cries had quieted to dry sobs, I stood in front of the sink, turned on the cold water, and started splashing it on my face. Each handful felt amazing, the cool water cascading down my face, soothing my swollen eyes and runny nose. When I was sure that I had gotten myself together, I opened the bathroom door and headed back toward the kitchen.

  I literally ran right into Bradley as soon as I opened the bathroom door. I almost fell on the ground, but he caught me in his arms. His arms were around my belly. He paused, a look of confusion on his face as he mumbled out some sort of an apology. I quickly gained my composure, righting myself so that I could stand up. I took a few steps away from him, pulling my sweatshirt down over my belly and trying to push past him. He put his hand out against my shoulder, stopping me from walking.

  “Whoa, hang on,” he said. “How are you doing?”

  He looked into my eyes, a look of real concern etched on his face.

  “Fine, “ I said, shifting back and forth, itching to get away from him as soon as possible. I tried pushing past him and he held me there by my arm. His warm hands on my skin felt so strange. But, at the same time, there was something electric and comforting about his touch.