“Gelato Bitch can’t make things right but her rich sugar daddy can.” Greg smirked.
“Restitution?” Lauren asked, wondering what Greg had in mind.
“Restitution.”
Ten
Unexpected Encounters
This is cute, Chelsea thought as she held up a green-and-white onesie in size 0–3 months. Damn, six dollars for that? It was used. How could something so small cost almost as much as one of her own shirts? Chelsea hung the onesie back on the rack and continued to peruse the aisle of the thrift store, hoping to find some baby clothes that cost two dollars or less. After Adam had gone home the night before, she’d started to put together a budget for the baby and realized if she could just save two dollars per day, she’d have $430 by the time the baby was born to spend on diapers, food, clothes, and formula. The hard thing would be the expensive stuff like a crib and stroller and high chair. Maybe if she checked the free ads each Saturday, she’d be able to find someone who was willing to give that stuff away. As Chelsea spotted a plain white onesie for only a dollar, she heard a familiar voice.
“Oh. Hey. I remember you.” Chelsea looked up to see the woman who had asked her about her necklace in the gelato shop step up next to her. “You work down the street. Basil gelato.” Chelsea remembered her instantly. What was she doing in a thrift store? Chelsea wondered as she took in the woman’s flowing pink shirt and designer jeans. This woman clearly had enough to buy beautiful, expensive clothes. Regardless, Chelsea was happy to see her again. Their conversation on the day after Chelsea had found out she was pregnant had been a high point in an otherwise stressful day.
“This baby stuff is so cute,” the woman said, pulling a lacy pink dress from the rack. “I wish I could buy all of it.”
“You have a baby?” Chelsea asked, intrigued.
“No. I just love kids. How ’bout you?” the woman asked. Chelsea nodded, proud.
“I’m expecting.” Expecting. It was the first time she’d used that word and she was surprised how special and important it made her feel.
“Congratulations.” The woman smiled, but it seemed forced. “Have you picked out a name yet?”
“No, not yet,” Chelsea responded. She hadn’t even started thinking about names. “Any ideas? I’m open to suggestions.”
“For a boy, Alexander. And for a girl, Annette,” the woman replied without hesitation.
“Both As. They’ll always be the first ones when the teacher tells them to line up.”
“I never thought of that.” The woman seemed more relaxed now. “Alexander was my grandfather’s name and Annette was my grandmother’s.”
“People don’t do that as much anymore . . . name kids after family members. . . .”
“No, they don’t. How about your boyfriend or husband? Does he have an opinion?” Boyfriend or husband. Jeff was neither and given that he didn’t want her to keep the baby, she was pretty sure he didn’t give a flying crap about its name.
“We’re not really . . . together anymore. So it’ll just be up to me.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” The woman seemed a little surprised but genuinely sorry.
“It happens,” Chelsea said with a shrug. “I know I’m still gonna be a really good mom. I started a parenting class already.”
“Oh really? Where?”
“Billauer Community Center. They teach you basically everything you need to know.” The woman smiled but seemed to be lost in thought. There was something so warm about this lady, and yet a bit odd. Chelsea couldn’t put her finger on it.
“Are you okay?” Chelsea asked.
“Yes, of course.” She smiled, but it didn’t seem genuine. It looked like the kind of smile that is supposed to tell the world things are fine when they really aren’t.
“I better get back,” Chelsea said, stealing a glance at her phone. “My lunch break is almost over.” The woman nodded politely. Chelsea walked toward the exit, deciding to come back when she had more time to shop. As she opened the door and stepped out into the blinding sunlight, she looked back inside, curious if the lady was still looking at baby clothes. But the woman was gone.
Back at home, Chelsea stood in front of her closet, staring at the simple black dress she’d worn so many times on nights out with Jeff and wondering if it would be appropriate for tonight. Adam had texted her as she neared the end of her shift: Would you like to go out to dinner with me tonight?
She had said yes, and then immediately started wondering what his invitation meant. Was that just a casual sequel to last night’s Chinese takeout? Or did he mean it to be like a date?
Chelsea heaved a sigh as she thought about Adam. She kept picturing that shock of black hair that never seemed to stay in place and the way his thin cotton T-shirt fell over his shoulders, defining every muscle. She had felt drawn to Adam before, but never with this kind of intensity. She wondered if it was the pregnancy hormones. Or perhaps it was because she was on the rebound from Jeff, in desperate need for someone to show her some affection.
But it seemed like more than that. After the events of the last few days, she realized that she felt so much more grounded with Adam than she did with Jeff. When she thought about Adam, she found herself smiling. It hadn’t been that way with Jeff. When Jeff wasn’t with her, she had constantly been worried about the next time he would call or if he’d changed his mind about divorcing his wife. There was a feeling of excitement with Jeff, but never calm. She wondered if maybe she’d confused love with a desire for a white knight who would scoop her up and give her a better life than the one she had.
When she was with Adam, her current life didn’t seem so bad. He knew exactly who she was, and she knew him, and there was something comforting in that, something that just felt natural.
This is probably not a date, she thought as she ran her finger over the collar of the black dress. Why would Adam—or any guy—want to be with a girl who was having someone else’s kid? That’s my new reality. I’m probably going to be single for a very long time. That’s fine, though, she told herself. She wouldn’t be alone—she had her baby. It would take up so much of her time she wouldn’t have room in her life for a boyfriend. Boyfriends leave, anyway. Her child would be there forever. Her thoughts drifted back to the dress. Wherever he takes me, this dress will be fine, she decided. Even if it was too dressy, at least he’d know she’d put some effort into it.
As it turned out, the dress wasn’t too dressy at all. Adam had surprised her when he came to her door wearing a suit jacket over a crisp white shirt. He looked incredible. He also carried a little bouquet of yellow daisies wrapped in plastic.
“Hi,” he said. She could tell he was nervous. “These are for you.” He stretched his arm out to hand her the flowers. She gently took them.
“What are these for?” she asked without thinking.
“Just to brighten up the room.”
“Thank you,” she said, and opened the door wider so he could come in. “They’re so pretty.” She inhaled their fresh scent.
“You can leave ’em in the fridge until you get back if you want. The lady said that would be fine.”
“Okay.” Chelsea opened the refrigerator and delicately placed the bouquet on the top shelf. When she turned back to Adam, he was awkwardly shifting his weight from side to side.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Sure.” She slipped her purse strap over her shoulder and grabbed her jacket. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise. But you’ll like it.”
Adam’s car pulled to the curb in front of Locanda Postino, an intimate little hole-in-the-wall on a quaint street in the arts district. From the outside it didn’t look like much, but the interior was beautifully upscale. Its crushed-velvet seats and the gold-painted Venetian masks with their long hooked noses that lined the walls made Chelsea feel like she’d been magically transported to Italy. Even the waiter had an Italian accent.
“This restaurant is expensive,” Che
lsea whispered as she glanced at the menu. Some of the dishes cost more than she spent on groceries in a week. What was osso bucco? Whatever it was, it was pricey. Nervous, she tapped the stem of her water glass with her finger. Adam lifted his gaze and smiled. She immediately felt at ease.
“There’s no budget tonight. Gramps chose this place and he gave me his credit card,” Adam said firmly, flipping the page. “The puttanesca sounds good.”
“Really?” She was surprised Mikey even knew about it.
“Are you kidding? He was thrilled when I told him I was taking you on a date.”
“This is a date?” she asked, caught off guard by the word. As soon as she said it, she could see Adam retract uncomfortably and she regretted not keeping her mouth shut.
“Isn’t it? I mean, no pressure if you don’t want it to be but . . . this is my best tie so . . . I was thinking it was. . . .” Adam grinned to lighten the conversation and gestured to his tie, which sported little blue geometric designs.
“Why would you want to date a pregnant girl?” she blurted out. Adam set his sparkling water down, thrown.
“Huh?” he said, and looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping.
Chelsea lowered her voice. “I’m serious. It doesn’t make sense.”
Adam pondered the question for a moment and exhaled before answering. “Well, I don’t really think of you as a pregnant girl. I think of you as this girl Chelsea I’ve liked for a long time.” Chelsea took in his words. They were genuine, as always. She was impressed that he could put himself out there like that. Adam never seemed scared of rejection. She liked that. There were a lot of things about him that she liked. But it still didn’t make sense to her that he could overlook the fact she was pregnant. How could that not be a game changer?
“But I’m eventually going to have a kid and . . . that kid isn’t yours. . . .” She waited for him to respond but he just looked at her, confused.
“I’m not sure I get where you’re going with that.”
“Why would you want to be bothered with a kid that belongs to someone else?” she asked bluntly. Before he could answer, the waiter came to take their order.
“Have you decided?” the waiter asked.
“Give us a few more minutes, please,” Adam said, holding up a finger. He turned to Chelsea, looking her square in the face. “You don’t think it’s possible to love a baby that you didn’t create?” The question threw her for a moment.
“Of course I do, but . . .” She let her voice trail off, not sure how to finish her sentence.
“I know firsthand what it’s like, considering I was adopted.”
“You were?” She’d had no idea. He looked so much like his father with his olive skin and square jaw, it never occurred to her that they weren’t related.
“To two fantastic parents who love me as much as anyone could. It doesn’t matter who contributes sperm or an egg. What matters is in your heart. The rest is just biology.” She’d known for a long time Adam was a great guy, but it took someone special to profess he could love a kid just the same whether it was his or not.
“That waiter is probably going to come back soon,” Adam said. “Do you know what you want?”
“The um—um, rigatoni with wild boar ragout,” she said, but it sounded more like a question than an answer. She really had no idea what that was, but it sounded interesting.
“I think it’s pronounced ragoo,” he said. She laughed, embarrassed.
“My German’s better than my Italian,” she joked.
“I’m gonna have to agree with you on that,” he chided back. “Wild boar isn’t as adventurous as chicken feet, but still.” There was a sparkle in his eye as he said it and she knew that he hadn’t been stressed at all by their paternity conversation.
Chelsea’s pregnancy didn’t come up for the rest of the dinner. They talked about Adam’s experiences at college, what it must be like to work on a crab boat, and all the crazy things that happen at the Lucky Lady.
“So what’s your favorite thing about being in college?” Chelsea asked. Adam thought about it as he twirled the last bite of capellini onto his fork.
“I guess just meeting people from all over. One of my friends is from a farm in Iowa, another grew up in New York City. My roommate freshman year was from Lebanon. If you’ve never had Lebanese food, it’s freaking bomb.” Chelsea chuckled. He’s so lucky, she thought. To get the chance to go to college and meet people from every corner of the world. She was happy for Adam, but also a tad jealous. She’d never even been out of the state.
“What do you miss most from here?” she asked, hoping her little neighborhood had at least one thing worth missing. Adam looked down and smiled into his lap. She watched him curiously until he finally looked up at her.
“You,” he said softly, and quickly looked away. Chelsea felt her cheeks tighten as a smile spread across her face.
“Me?”
“Is it weird that I said that?”
“No,” she said quickly. “I just . . . I’m just surprised, is all.”
“I don’t know why, but I think about you a lot. When something cool happens, I wish you were there to see it.” Chelsea wondered how many times had she done the exact same thing. More than she could count.
“I was pretty bummed when you left,” she said. “I thought maybe after what happened to Mikey, you’d come back.”
“I wanted to, but Gramps was against it and so were my parents. They wanted me to finish school.” She nodded. She knew that he would have to go back soon.
“Two more years,” he said, as if he could read her thoughts.
“Then what? You don’t think you’ll stay there?” She couldn’t imagine him wanting to come back. There was nothing here for him.
“Chicago’s cool and everything but . . . I don’t know. I haven’t really thought that far ahead.” It seemed like a long way off for her, too. By that time, her baby would be over a year old.
“Can I show you the dessert menu?” the waiter asked, interrupting. He handed one to Chelsea before she could respond.
“Thanks,” Adam said, and accepted one as well.
“I definitely don’t want the gelato,” Chelsea said, laughing. Adam chuckled.
“How about we split a tiramisu?” he asked. Chelsea read the description silently, still unsure what it was.
“What’s mascarpone cheese?” she asked, unsure if she’d pronounced the name correctly.
“I’m not really sure but it sounds cool.”
Chelsea laughed again. “Adventure number three hundred forty-two!”
“We’ve had that many adventures together already?”
“At least. Starting with the time we found that fishing hook, remember? And we tied it to a rope and stuck it down the storm drain?” Chelsea grinned as the memory came back.
“What were we trying to catch? Sewer fish?”
“Alligators! Remember? There was some movie where alligators lived under the streets and we thought we’d catch one.”
“That’s right!”
Chelsea giggled as she sipped her water. “That was fun. I can’t believe we didn’t catch one.”
Adam laughed too. “I guess you’re right. We probably are somewhere in the three hundreds by now.”
The tiramisu was brought out on the center of a white plate with an elegant design in chocolate around the edges. The waiter set two dessert forks down. “Enjoy.”
“I don’t have a clue what it’s gonna taste like,” Adam said. “But I like it already.”
“Weren’t they going to bring one for you, too?” Chelsea teased as she slid the plate closer to her with one finger. Adam laughed.
“Ha-ha,” he quipped, and slid the plate back to the middle. Plunking his fork down in the middle of the slice, he chopped it in half. “There. Just so you don’t try anything.” She grinned and scooped a bite of tiramisu onto her fork. Oh my god, she thought, taking her first bite. This is one of the best things I’ve ever tasted.
It ranked right up there with apfelkuchen, the rich, moist apple cake she made from her mother’s recipe every year at Christmastime.
When they had scraped every last crumb of the dessert from the plate, the waiter brought the bill in a little leather book. Adam plunked down Mikey’s credit card, signed the receipt, and walked Chelsea to his car. The door squeaked as he opened it for her.
“Fingers and toes inside?” he asked as she settled into the bucket seats. She wiggled them, showing they weren’t in the way of the door. He carefully shut it anyway, just in case.
Watching as he walked around the front to the driver’s side, she felt a strangely comfortable feeling like this is where she belonged.
When they arrived at Chelsea’s house, she didn’t expect Adam to park the car and walk her to the door, but he did.
“Do you want to come in and watch TV?” she asked, not ready for their time together to end.
“I can’t. I promised Gramps I’d help him put together a new bookcase he bought. One of those IKEA things where the directions are just drawings.”
“Oh,” she said, a little disappointed. “Thank you for dinner. It was really nice being on a real date.”
“Maybe we can do it again when I get back. . . .”
“You’re leaving?” Chelsea felt a sudden panic that surprised her.
“Just for a few days. My cousin in Ohio is getting married. I’m in the wedding, so I kinda have to go.”
“Sounds nice.” She pictured him in a tuxedo standing next to other guys in tuxedos. She bet he looked really good.
“Is that a yes?” he asked. “I get to take you out again?”
“That’s a yes.”
Adam stepped closer to her and planted a sweet, soft kiss on her lips. Chelsea felt her insides tighten. She loved the feeling of his warm breath against her face, his body pressed to hers. The kiss was over too soon and Adam stepped back.
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