Jock's Baby

by Roxeanne Rolling

  “This isn’t a good time,” I say. “Someone…a friend has just been in an accident, and I don’t know what happened. I have to get to the hospital right now.”

  I’m looking around, trying to figure out which baby things out of the hundreds of baby things I need to bring with me. At least it feels like a hundred things.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” says Mr. Posh, not sounding sorry in the slightest. And his face is actually contorted into some kind of bizarre and twisted smile. “I’d love to do this another time, but I’m heading to Aspen this afternoon to go skiing.”

  Skiing? Who can think about skiing at a time like this? Is there even snow on the ground? What a fucking asshole. I can’t believe I work for this guy.

  “Anyway, a young member of our staff, I believe you know him…”

  Fuck, I already know where this is headed. He doesn’t need to say another word. I know exactly who he’s talking about. Fred. Fred! That fucking asshole.

  “Has just informed me that you’ve had an ongoing relationship with Jeff Tallborne, the defendant in your first case as partner… Obviously, this isn’t kosher here at the law firm. Of course, it’s not as if it’s a very important case. That’s why we gave it to you. You know, we only promoted you to partner because we had so many men on the staff that we needed a woman soon or we were likely to face a discrimination suit.”

  This makes me madder than anything else he’s said before, madder than his jerky demeanor is making me.

  “What about the years of hard work I put in for the firm?” I say, my voice sounding angry and I don’t care. I clutch Mia harder against me. She’s still sucking on my breast.

  He waves his hand. “Nothing that anyone else wouldn’t have done.”

  I know for a fact that this isn’t true. I know for a fact that I’ve put in more hours, not to mention better hours, than Fred, or anyone else who wanted the partner position.

  “It’s not like it’s just some random fling,” I say. “This is his child here.” I say it definitely, knowing that it’s not going to help my case at all.

  “Is that so?” says Mr. Posh, giving me a slightly disgusted look and wrinkling up his nose. “Well, as I’m sure you’re aware, this goes against your contract, and you’re going to be terminated.”

  “I didn’t even become partner, let alone get assigned to the case, until well after that was all over with Jeff,” I say.

  “But you just said that’s his child that you’re nursing.”

  “It’s a complicated and long story,” I say.

  “Well, you needed to disclose this information to us when you were assigned the case. The mere fact that you did not do this is a direct breach of contract, for which you will be summarily terminated.”

  “Great,” I say. “Are we done here? Because I really need to get to the hospital.”

  “We’re done here, Lexi. I suppose you’re going to see your baby daddy in the hospital? I suppose he’s gotten himself into another knife fight. What a great guy. It sounds like you have excellent choice in men.”

  How have I even been working for this guy? If I’d met him before, or really know what he was like, I would have never worked for this firm. Well, I don’t know if that’s completely true, since I do need the money, after all. And aside from that, I was pretty sure I needed to advance my career, at the expense of everything else in my life.

  I’m not making the same mistake again. I’m going to the hospital to tell Jeff he’s Mia’s father. I just hope he’s alive when I get there.

  To hell with this idiotic job that I’ve poured so much of my life into!

  I get up and grab the bags that I might need.

  Posh is still sitting in his chair, with his long legs crossed at the thigh.

  I’m halfway out the door, when he says, “Oh, Lexi, don’t expect a good recommendation from us. You’re going to have a hell of a time getting a job as a lawyer after this.”

  “Go to hell,” I say, slamming the door behind me.

  This is the last time I’ll see that office. I haven’t even grabbed the couple personal effects I had in there—the picture of my mom and dad, for instance.

  “Hey, kid,” says Fred, his demented face popping out right in front of me. “You hear the good news?”

  “Get lost, Fred,” I say, pushing him aside, making sure to keep Mia on my other side so that she isn’t hurt at all.

  Fred trips on his own shoes and goes tumbling into the water cooler, which topples over, emptying water all over his head. He’s lying there on the carpet, his suit drenched, and that’s the last I’ll ever see of him. I don’t need colleagues like that creep anyway.

  It’s time I said goodbye to this whole hellhole. How did I not see it earlier for what it really was?

  I’m driving to the hospital now, trying to keep my speed well below the speed limit, very conscious that Mia’s in the back seat in his car seat.

  There are so many things going on in my head right now I can’t even keep them straight. So many worries and fears—how will I pay for anything now? How will I pay my bills, or my debts? How will I provide a good life for Mia?

  But the thought that overrides them all is thinking that Jeff might have been seriously injured. Maybe he’s dead right now.

  I have to fight back the urge to jam the accelerator down and rush to the hospital. After all, I have to think of Mia.

  I should have told Jeff earlier, much earlier. I should have never waited for a moment. I should have called him the minute I was pregnant.

  I know that he was an unruly character at the time. I thought he was a no-good partying sports star who didn’t know how to control his own emotions. But that shouldn’t have stopped me. I only blame myself right now.

  It seems like it takes me forever to find a parking spot. When I finally do, my heart is pounding like it’s never pounded before, and my head is throbbing with some kind of migraine. But I carefully and slowly load Mia into her baby stroller and push her into the hospital, right up the nurse’s station in the emergency room.

  “I’m here to see Jeff Tallborne,” I say. “I was listed as his emergency contact, and someone from the hospital just called me.”

  The nurse wears an expressionless face as she checks her computer for what seems like an eternity.

  “He’s been transferred,” she says.

  “Transferred? Oh no? He’s where? In surgery? Is he OK?”

  “He’s been discharged,” says the nurse.

  “Discharged. You mean nothing happened to him? You mean he’s OK?”

  “He’s uninjured,” says the nurse.

  “Thank God,” I say. “So where is he?” I spin my head around wildly, as if he’s going to be waiting for me, hiding behind the vending machine, ready to give me a good scare.

  “He’s been transferred to the prison,” says the nurse. “He’s under arrest for reckless endangerment and driving in a reckless manner. He was fleeing a police vehicle at the time of the accident.”

  I don’t say anything, but my heart falls.

  I don’t know what to feel for a moment.

  But now I do. And it’s nothing but pure anger.

  What a fucking asshole, is all I can think. And I was going to tell him that he’s a father, and beg his forgiveness for not telling him sooner, and ask him to be my man, whatever that means.

  Well it turns out he’s just up to his normal shit.

  He’s just been out racing around, running away from the cops like some drunken teenager. Who knows what else he’s gotten up to.

  There’s no way he’s fit to be a father.

  I clutch Mia close, taking her out of the stroller and walk slowly, trying to remain calm, back to the car.

  I have to use all my will power not to scream in rage once I’m in the car—I don’t want to upset Mia. After all, she’s everything to me.

  21.

  Jeff

  “Someone’s posted y
our bail,” says the guard, unlocking the door.

  The sound of his keys in the lock, dangling around, the metal clinks as the door opens—this is all becoming all too familiar.

  I get to the desk where I’m supposed to sign the papers and there’s Tom, looking clear-eyed and quite dapper in a collard shirt, tucked in, no less, to his khaki pants.

  “What the hell happened to you?” I say.

  “That’s what I should be asking you,” he says.

  “I don’t know,” I say. “Bad decisions, I guess.”

  “You still have time to make good ones.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  He doesn’t answer, and I sign the papers with a messy scrawl.

  “So you get out of rehab and the first thing you do is come post my bail?”

  “I didn’t have anything else going on today.”

  “When did you become so damn witty, asshole?”

  “I can understand that you’re in a bad mood, Jeff. I would be too if I’d just spent the night in jail.”

  “Don’t act like you’ve never been in jail before,” I say. “Because I’ve been there with you.”

  We head out to the street where the bright Boston sunlight almost blinds me after a night of florescence and darkness.

  “You going to call her?”

  “Who?”

  “You know who.”

  “Just give me your cell phone,” I say.

  I dial Lexi’s number, but it just goes right to voice mail. I try again, and then again and again. No answer. I send a couple texts asking what’s going on.

  Nothing. Not a single word back. I know she’s got her phone with her. It’s always glued to her. The only time she doesn’t answer it is when we’re having sex, and we’re certainly not having sex now.

  “Tom, I’ve got to see her. I realized Mia is my daughter.”

  “You what?”

  I explain the whole thing to him and at the end he’s nodding his head and saying, “I see. Yes, that makes sense.”

  “Listen,” I say. “I just want to be in Mia’s life. I need to be there for my daughter, but I need to hear it from Lexi. She still hasn’t admitted it to me.”

  “Write that to her. If she has her phone with her, just write what you just said to me.”

  “You sure?”

  He nods sagely. How can I resist the advice from a guy who seems to suddenly have it all so together? Tom seems to know the secrets of the universe, and he’s willing to share them with me in this moment, so I’d better take his advice. Plus, it feels like the right thing to do.

  “I just want to be in my daughter’s life,” I write to Lexi.

  The text comes back after one minute. I can tell she’s thought about it a little.

  “You’re not fit to be a father,” she writes. “I went to the hospital after your crash but found out you’re not hurt and you’re in prison instead. Don’t know how you got a cell phone in there, but I’m sure you’re up to no good just like on the outside. My daughter can’t have a father who’s in prison, no matter how famous he is.”

  Holy shit. This fucking hurts.

  Tears start welling up in my eyes. Everything feels like it’s falling around me. My insides are in turmoil, but I feel completely dead.

  “Not good news?” says Tom, looking at me carefully. There’s something in his eyes I haven’t seen in a long time—he actually cares about what’s happening to me.

  “It’s OK to cry,” says Tom. “I learned that in rehab.”

  I don’t say anything, but the tears keep coming, and I cover my face in embarrassment with my hands.

  Tom helps me to the car and even opens the door for me. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so fucking terrible in all my life.

  My daughter…I have to see my daughter.

  “I’m sure it’s going to work out in the end,” says Tom. “It’s just that she just got this bad news about you.”

  “It’s not going to work out,” I say, wiping my eyes as Tom starts to drive. “There’s no way it’s going to work out, because she’s completely right. I always make the wrong decision. I always do, no matter what. I’m not good enough to be Mia’s father.”

  “If things get bad, you know there’s always the courts…” says Tom, slowly and quietly. “They have to give father’s visitation rights these days, you know.”

  “I could never do that to Lexi,” I say. “I could never drag her through the courts. I care about her too much.”

  Tom nods. “You’re right,” he says. “I can’t see you doing that.”

  We drive in silence for about twenty minutes, after which time we pull up to an office building that I recognize.

  “Where are you taking me?” I say.

  “The lawyers for the team wanted to see you.”

  “So you didn’t even ask me?”

  “I didn’t think you’d want to go, but you know you have to. This is going to be another mark against you, and it’s best that you confront it right now.”

  “When did you get so goody-two-shoes?” I say. “What happened to picking me up at the jail and taking me out for a half dozen shots?”

  “Those days are behind me,” says Tom. “And even if you don’t realize it, I think those days are behind you too.”

  “I wasn’t drunk when I was driving,” I say. “Just really angry.”

  “That can be just as bad, I guess,” says Tom.

  Tom waits in the lobby for me while I shuffle into the office of Jed Hunter, the big shot team lawyer, originally from North Carolina. He still talks with a bit of a southern drawl that I used to find charming, but now I just find it annoying.

  “So what can I do for you today?” says Jed, shaking my hand.

  I stare at him blankly. Does he really not know? I thought he was always in the loop on everything.

  “Just kidding,” he says, breaking out into an annoying and obnoxious laugh. “I know what you’re here for. Sit down, take a seat. You must be tired from the night in jail.”

  He starts explaining to me my various current legal problems, and the future legal problems I’m likely to encounter, based on my recent behavior. I’m only half listening, and as I’m sitting in his fancy office, surrounded by jerseys of former Tanks players, I suddenly have an idea that hits me like a ton of bricks. I’ve never had such a painful idea in all my life.

  “I’m going to just say I’m guilty,” I say.

  Jed stops talking mid-sentence, staring at me with his mouth hanging open.

  “I would advise…”

  “I don’t care what you would or wouldn’t advise,” I say. “I have my reasons, and let’s just leave it at that. I’m going to testify guilty in the criminal case and, more importantly, the civil case as well.”

  If I testify guilty, then it’s really going to help Lexi out.

  Despite everything that happened to me, I haven’t forgotten for a moment that that jerk Fred at her job is threatening Lexi with revealing information about the two of us, which would cause her to lose her job.

  But if she wins the case against me, there’s no way she could lose her job, right?

  I mean, she could probably beat this jerk Jed sitting in front of me. Knowing what I know about her, and how tough she can be, she could beat him any day of the week with both hands tied behind her back, using only her mouth to move the papers around her in the courthouse and on her desk.

  But this will make it absolutely certain that she wins. If I can’t be in her and Mia’s life, at least I’m going to do all I can to help them, whatever way I can, even if it means throwing myself under the bus.

  “Look, Jeff,” says Jed. “I guess you must be going through quite a rough patch right now, but this is career suicide. I mean, it’s not like you’re going to be kicked off the team immediately, but you could seriously put your career at risk. If media attention gets too bad, the team might be forced to concede to public opinion
and trade you or terminate your contract, or, worse, just leave you on the bench all season.”

  “I don’t care,” I say. “I don’t care about anything, and I don’t care about football.”

  That’s not true. I still care about Lexi. And I care about my daughter, Mia.

  Now that I’m absolutely certain that Mia’s my daughter, everything hurts more. I need to be in her life, and I need to be in Lexi’s too. I’ve never cared about anyone more than I care about Lexi.

  “Jeff,” says Jed. “I’m sure we can figure something out.”

  “Let’s get something straight,” I say, standing up, towering over him as he sits behind his fancy desk full of awards. “You may think you work for the team, but you really work for me. I’ve read the contracts and I’m no idiot. You’ve got to do what I say. I don’t care what you say, but I’m pleading guilty to everything, in all the cases.”

  Jed’s mouth is still hanging open, a look of washed-out surprise plastered on his stupid face, but he gives me a curt nod that lets me know he’s understood what I’ve said.

  I walk out of the office, slamming the door behind me.

  Everything fucking sucks.

  I’m done for, but I don’t care. At least Lexi’s going to have her job still, and Mia’s going to have the kind of future that Lexi thinks is best for her.

  “Take me home, Tom,” I say.

  “Everything go OK?” says Tom.

  “Went great,” I say, getting into the car, which sinks a little on its shocks as my weight settles in my seat.

  Tom drops me off in front of my apartment.

  “You sure you’re OK?” says Tom. “You want me to come in?”

  “And do what? Feed me baby food or make chicken noodle soup? Listen, Tom, just because you’ve been to rehab and now you’re a better person and everything doesn’t mean I have to be the same way, you know? Just let me do my thing. It’s not like I haven’t been in trouble before.”

  “Good luck,” says Tom, giving me a nod, and a fist bump.

  I get out of the car and head into my apartment, which is completely dark, but I don’t even bother to flip the lights on.