by Eva Luxe
It's best to keep this to what it is, an office dalliance. A farewell fuck.
It's best to bid adieu to whatever fantasies I have of Carolina, and forget that I ever thought it could be something more.
Chapter 27 – Carolina
1 Week Later
The next week is a blur. I start my new job, which Garrett helped me find. It’s fine, uneventful, which I guess is perfect but hardly the dream job I had left my little town to take.
It’s a slow Monday, though, and I can’t seem to get Garrett off my mind. It seems like the entire universe is here just to test me. Jake is now calling me, saying he had made a mistake.
“I was so crushed by the news that we probably couldn’t get pregnant, I reacted badly,” he'd said. “Let's get together again. I just need to feel your body next to mine to know if our relationship can work despite the reality that there's no way we can have kids.”
That’s the gist of his sorry-not-sorry call, anyway. Clearly, he only wants sex from me. The old me might have been down, but now I wouldn’t stoop to being my ex husband’s booty call.
If Garrett had taught me anything, if the last few months had revealed anything, it was that I was better than that. I blocked Jake on my phone, and the funny thing is, I thought I would feel something. But I don’t. It’s finally time to leave the small town girl behind and move on. I’m a different, better person now, and Jake no longer seems enough.
Meanwhile, I had kept the lines of communication open with Erin, who was getting all the dirt. She and I had practically become the best of friends. She said she treated Garrett to lunch one day and he spilled his guts to her. He said he had no desire to date anyone else but me.
On the phone now, she says, “Cari—is it okay if I call you that?”
She had heard me talking to Martha on the phone one day in the office, and has asked me what it was she kept calling me. She’d like the pet nickname, I guess, and I’m flattered that she remembers.
“Sure,” I say. If there’s anyone else I would let call me that, it’s her.
“Cari, you are not going to believe the irony. I don’t know how some people do it. Garrett said he thinks of how ironic it is that he finally met a girl he’d like to settle down with, and he can’t or else it would lead to a mess with the partners.”
“Settle down?”
“Yes. I reminded him, ‘Garrett, you are independently wealthy, hon. You really could leave.’ But he said this is his life. And, you know, you really can’t fault the guy for that. He’s right. It’s his life.”
“Woah, back up. Settle down?”
My ears— and my heart— perked up at these two words. Leave it to Erin to skip over the most important part of the story. I couldn’t believe she had become Garrett’s confidant— except, I guess maybe I could, since he was probably awfully lonely in my absence— but I definitely can’t believe he told her that.
“That’s what I said. Aren’t you listening?”
“Erin, I can’t deal with this. I really can’t. I mean, why are we making this so complicated?”
“Yeah, you guys are nuts. Claude would say straight people are nuts, but it’s mostly just you and Garrett. It wouldn’t be fair to paint all straight people with the same brush as you two nutcases. It should not be this weird.”
***
The following day, I speak to Erin and she says Garrett will be sending me a text. No doubt she put a bug in his ear, but I’m grateful. She says she watched him type it, and it’s a love letter.
It never comes. I understood and decide it doesn’t matter how much we all wanted this to happen, it wasn’t meant to be.
A few days later, beaten down and tired, I feel like I’m getting the flu. I decide to leave work early. The next morning, I’ve still not recovered, so I stay home an extra two days, but nothing is shaking it. A trip to the doctor is in order.
In the waiting room, minutes felt like hours as I wait for the doctor to return with a diagnosis. My nails are bitten down to the quick. I think, just bring me my antibiotics so I can leave.
Instead, the doctor walks in looking poker-faced. Something is obviously up. I think, here we go, he is going to tell me I have H1N1 or some dreaded virus. Just my luck.
Instead, he says, “Your symptoms are pretty typical for what’s going on.”
I take a deep breath. “And that would be?”
“Ms. Abbot, as they probably say back South where you’re from, you are pregnant, my darlin’.”
It’s as if I’m hit by a tsunami. I can’t believe the doctor chose such a nutty way to tell me I’m pregnant. I’m shocked and rocked by both elation and fear, all at the same time. I suppose he thought some humor would lessen the blow, but I’m in no mood to laugh.
What the hell am I going to do now?
Chapter 28 – Carolina
Hours later, I sit on the edge of my bed, rocking back and forth. I had lost it. I had truly lost my footing. As the minutes tick on, I became nearly catatonic.
How am I going to tell Garrett that he’s going to be a father? Am I even going to tell him?
And then I chastise myself.
Of course, Carolina. This is real life. Grow up and put your big girl panties on. The same ones you took off right before you got yourself into this predicament. You are going to tell him. And you are going to handle whatever comes.
At this very moment, I think I could easily be sick, and then I remind myself that my nausea could just as easily be about the pregnancy and not necessarily the anxiety. I am gobsmacked.
This just wasn’t in the plan— not in my plan anyway. I’m actually elated that I can actually get pregnant, but shocked at the circumstances.
Then it occurs to me that, no, I cannot tell Garret. What the hell was I thinking, anyway?
The partners already thought his love life was of concern and was impacting his professional life. I can’t come in with the typical hey, I have good news spiel when this could likely ruin his career. It’s not as if we’re even in a relationship.
This is bad. Very bad. Even though I know instinctively that I want the baby, I doubt Garrett would feel the same way. So it’s bad for him, and for any hope there might have been of there being a “him and me.”
I get up and walk to the teapot in my kitchen. Chamomile tea is about all I can stomach at the moment. I’m not even sure I can drink that when pregnant. But I’m pretty sure it’s a lot safe to drink than coffee. I guess I’m going to have to learn all the rules soon, for what I can have and not have, do and not do.
I pour some into my favorite giant mug and slurp the hot liquid, relishing the steam and the comfort of the heat through the cup in my hands. Leaning back onto the headboard, I decide this will have to be my experience and mine alone.
Why drag Garrett into it? Just because we had sex and the condom broke? And then we had sex again and again and again. It’s the 21st century. A woman can have a baby on her own. I don’t need a man to help me do it, even though he helped me make it.
That’s it. I won’t tell him. I will remain quiet and handle this pregnancy all on my own. Lots of women are single mothers. How hard can it be? I will do things my own way and not worry about someone else giving me their opinion on how to raise my kid.
Our kid. Shit.
I’ll think of that later. There’s no need to think of that today. The last thing I would want to do is stress out the baby.
Chapter 29 – Carolina
4 Months Later
Four months into the constant drill of morning sickness, I finally start feeling relief. The novelty of my stomach growing and all the curious busybodies asking who the father is begin to weigh on me by now, but it pales in comparison to the anxiety I have been having about raising this child on my own.
Had I not considered the gravity of all of this? At first, it seemed like a dream— or a bad joke. But then, I felt the baby move inside me, and suddenly it was starting to become very real. I still couldn’t see the point in telling
Garrett, though.
Instinctively, I just knew he would hate the idea. It would break my heart to see the look of panic in his eyes that would reveal without a doubt that the father of my child was already wishing the baby didn’t exist, even before it was born.
I catch myself daydreaming about the awfulness of it all as I purchase some baby furnishings for the nursery. I’m getting ready for the baby to come. Even though I’m only six months along, I’m ready.
Nesting has really gone into overdrive, and I decide to take an early extended leave of absence from work. I need it. And luckily I’ve been prudent enough to save up for a rainy day.
The cashier begins to grow impatient with me.
“Ma’am, ma’am, are you going to purchase those?”
A tear streams down my cheek. I swipe it away casually and respond, “Yes. Yes. I mean yes, thank you. I am.”
Damn pregnancy hormones.
As I wait for the bored cashier to ring up my purchases, my eyes roam, quite unfortunately, to a father and toddler girl exiting the store. It is the last image I need to see, really, in my emotional if temporary state of fragility. He holds her high on his shoulder so proudly. The little princess giggles and looks at him with true innocent admiration and affection, her mouth covered in raspberry something or other.
I smile, and then I felt a pang of… that will never be my child. He or she will never know their father. It is becoming too real and too painful. All of it.
Should I tell him, and how would I possibly do that? I’m close to six months pregnant. What would I do, just show up after all this time and say “surprise?”
The conflict is making me mad, like a raving lunatic, quite literally. I smile at the cashier—hoping she’s used to pregnant mothers crying in this store due to overwhelming hormones and perhaps life situations— and abscond with my lovely nursery items. Such the proud mother, knocked up and every bit weepy and maternal.
I had nearly convinced myself to tell Garrett, but then I thought, maybe this isn’t the right moment to make a decision. It seems like some version of that exact conversation takes place in my head, day after day, while our baby grows bigger and bigger in my stomach.
I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.
Chapter 30 – Carolina
By Monday, after my temporary state of lunacy over the weekend, I’ve set up the nursery and managed to make it through another week. This will be the last week at work before my self-imposed pre maternity leave, and if not for the fact that I actually hate the other “traditional” mothers glaring at my “lack of showing” and “you look so good for six months” belly, the sheer madness of my life was likely to get me sent home anyway. So, the timing is perfect.
I had still been incessantly debating about Garrett. He needed to know.
One constant thought loomed in my mind: Who did I think I was to keep this a secret from the father of the child?
After feeling sorry for myself for several months, it suddenly occurs to me that he had been cheated out of all these months of knowing he is going to be a father, and this is all my fault.
How will I even explain it? Sure, he might be panicked, but I’m not asking anything of him. I certainly don’t need him financially. Work is going well and I feel my job with Karen is secure. Besides, he’d done more than enough by securing the new job for me.
There would be no stalking or begging to be betrothed. What was I so afraid of?
And then it hits me. Am I afraid he might actually want to be in my life? Might I have secretly longed for that?
Maybe the real conflict is that I was ready to be with him when I put on the air of someone so independent and not seeking the protection of a man. Nonetheless, the internal battle of should I, or shouldn’t I? had me hanging on by a thread at this point. Still, the actual decision of whether to tell Garrett was changing minute to minute.
The week came and went. Just days until my maternity leave, two p.m. on Thursday, to be exact, my boss stops into my office.
“Dear, can you drop this at the office of Marks, Sanchez, Reed and Mack?” Karen asks. As if as an afterthought— which to her, it probably was— she adds, “Oh yeah, your reference. You used to work there. So, you know where it is.”
She shrugs and smiles, as if that is that. And how convenient to boot.
My stomach drops, and it isn’t from the tacos I ate for lunch. How will I walk back in there at six months pregnant, my belly round and protruding, without a comment?
Of course, some people say I’m barely showing for someone so far along. And Erin and I are still close, so I know she hadn’t revealed anything to Garrett. She would never.
Besides, by now she is so in love, it matters very little what I’m doing. She’d finally found someone who finds her frizzy hair, crooked teeth, and smart mouth endearing rather than off-putting. Who would have guessed?
Me. I would have guessed.
Now, I answer Karen without letting myself over think anything further.
“Sure. Sure, of course.”
What else was I going to answer? No, because the father of my secret baby might find out?
“Would it be okay if I head out a little early then?” I ask her. “So I can drop this off on my way home?”
“Yes, indeed. Thanks. It should go to directly to Garrett, or have Erin please hand deliver it.”
I gulp and reply, “Um, yes. Yes.”
“You okay to do that? I mean, you aren’t in pain or anything? You seem pretty good still. Look, if I’m being honest, your belly is smaller than most of the ladies here— hah.”
Was that supposed to be an attempt at humor? I enjoy working for Karen, but she’s certainly an odd character. I’m not sure if she’s laughing or hacking up a hairball.
My new boss is the no-nonsense, all-business type, which was a welcome change from what I was used to with Garrett. I suppose she was starting to warm up to me a little now and try out a joke.
So, even though she had just given me an out— I could say I don’t feel well; pregnancy sickness, or some other such excuse— I would feel bad taking it. I decide to grow up and do what she asks.
“Yeah, I mean I’m not bedbound, hah. I can walk. You’re not asking me to do a marathon. It only requires getting out of my car, hopping on an elevator, and handing over a package. I think I can handle that.”
I realize I’m becoming a bit snarky, so I smile to compensate. She nods, and there it is. My fate is sealed.
I have to text Erin immediately. This is going to be the scandal of all scandals. The partners will definitely talk amongst themselves when they see me. Even though I miss Erin, and Claude, and Madilyn, and Ruby and Katie, I had avoided going into the office. Obviously I had been afraid of running into Garrett and having an awkward encounter. But I also didn’t want to give away my secret by having them see me. Since some of them had been pregnant themselves recently, they’d pick up on my trail like sharks to blood.
I mean, I think I look like a blimp. Even though everyone including Karen says I’m barely showing, I just chalk that up to “the things you tell an obviously pregnant woman to keep her from strangling you with her bare hands.”
Suddenly, I can feel the beads of sweat forming on my brow.
Then, as if courage is a bottled drink, I feel this warm rush of strength. No, I will not cower. I will face this proudly and make this the opportunity to share the news with Garrett. After all, he really is a great guy.
He deserves to know that I’m about to have his baby, that he’s about to be a father.
So what the hell have I been so afraid of?
Chapter 31 – Carolina
The double doors open into the reception area. Erin can’t look up at me. I can see hives forming on her neck from anxiety. If I weren’t the one putting her in this situation, she would ask me for a massage, to help her deal with it.
She is trying to be inconspicuous but she is very ready for major drama to ensue. She answers a call.
<
br /> “Marks, Sanchez, Reed and Mack, how can I help? Of course, one moment please.” Then she presses a button and warbles, “Mr. Mack. Uh. Sorry… Mr. Mack, uh Garrett… uh someone, uh. You have a package. Um, someone is here to drop off… uh, hand deliver to you a package.”
I mutter, “Smooth.”
Erin hangs up, rolling her eyes at me, and says under her breath, “and she brought company.” I ignore her. It was funny, but this is no time for levity, especially not the Erin shit-stirring kind of levity.
Phlegm threatens to come up as bile forces me to very loudly clear my throat. A belch slips out in the process. Oh, the genius timing of pregnancy.
Katie laughs. I say nothing.
I clear my throat again and ready myself. Vomit, or Garrett Mack, is about to emerge. Which will come first, I have no clue. So, I just wait. Whichever one makes it to the finish line ahead of the other, that’s what I’m going to go with, I decide instantaneously.
Pick and choose your battles, Carolina, pick and choose.
Then, just as I go in close to the desk to whisper something to Erin, I see him coming out. It’s Garrett, all right. I can tell by his broad shoulders and confident swagger, even when I first spot him all the way down the hall.
I pretend this is all business. I can see he seems nervous, not that he would ever show it. I realize that the desk is in front of my belly, so I stay sort of covered. He walks to my side of the desk and smiles professionally. I can tell he feels shaken but that he’s trying not to show it. As he is just about to ask for the package, Erin, being the busybody that she is, interrupts.
“Not out in the open area guys. I have strict instructions from the firm that this is to remain confidential, thanks. Please don’t involve me. Carolina, was it not explained that way to you by Karen?”
“Um, yes. Yeah,” I answer her. “Yes, that’s correct.”