Who's Your Daddy?

by Gallagher, Lauren

  I couldn’t decide if I felt smothered by the baby and the two fathers, or more alone than ever.

  Lying in bed that night, I couldn’t sleep in spite of being completely exhausted. Between my emotions and the fact that my pregnancy liked to suck every bit of energy out of me, I should have been asleep hours ago. Instead, as the clock counted off hour after restless hour, I stared up at the ceiling.

  The guilt gnawed at me. I didn’t want the guys to think I was ungrateful for how supportive and sweet they’d been since day one, but I didn’t know how to explain how I felt to them. The sex could have made our friendship awkward and uncomfortable, but falling in love with both of them? That was crossing lines we just couldn’t cross.

  Shit. This was never simple, but it wasn’t supposed to be this complicated. What should—

  A faint flutter just below my navel brought my thoughts to a screeching halt.

  I put my hand over my stomach, and held perfectly still. There it was again.

  I closed my eyes and exhaled. This wasn’t the first time I’d felt it—I’d rationalized away the truth every time for the last week and a half—but I couldn’t ignore it now. Or at least, I couldn’t convince myself it was anything other than my baby moving.

  Rubbing my eyes with my other hand, I muttered a string of profanity that would have made Don proud. I needed to get it together. In a few months, I’d be a mother, and I owed my baby better than being an emotional basket case who couldn’t just face the world, say what was on my mind, stand on my own two feet and generally stop being a spineless idiot.

  I put both my hands over that subtle flutter of movement. Starting tomorrow, it was time to set a few people straight and be honest with the two who deserved it most. Even if the end result was awkward and uncomfortable, they needed to know.

  By the time sunrise rolled around, I’d managed a few hours of sleep, but as exhausted as I was, I was still determined to face those who needed to be faced. I hadn’t yet called Don or Isaac, though. There was someone else I needed to speak to before I lost my nerve.

  And so, around eleven, I drummed my fingers behind an untouched water glass in a café downtown. My heart beat faster with every passing minute, and when the café door opened at exactly eleven fifteen, I folded my hands to keep them from shaking.

  “Good morning,” my mother said, grinning broadly as she took her seat across from me.

  “Morning.” My mouth had gone dry, so I grabbed the ice water I’d been ignoring for the last half hour.

  “How are things?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “Good, good.”

  “Any luck finding a job?” She pursed her lips. “Though I suppose you might be more interested in temporary work right now.”

  I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “Actually, I’m doing just fine with the writing. I’m due another installment on my advance for the next book at the end of the month, and there’s still one more book in the series.”

  She scowled but let it go. “And how is everything else going?” Her emphasis left no room for interpretation about exactly what she was referring to.

  “Fine.” I dropped my gaze and stared into my drink. “Everything’s going fine.”

  “Well. That’s good to hear.” Her tone suggested it was anything but.

  Carmen, get it together. You didn’t come here to let her walk all over you.

  I folded my hands on the table and made myself look her in the eye. “We need to talk about this, Mom.”

  She sniffed. “I don’t think there’s much to discuss. What’s done is done.” Her eyes darted downward toward my stomach, like she could see it through the table, and her lip curled into a disgusted snarl. “Obviously.”

  I sighed. “Would you rather I had an abortion?”

  Her eyes widened. “What?” She scoffed. “No, of course not.”

  “Well, then.” I gestured at my stomach. “This is happening. Whether you and Dad like or not, it’s happening.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t suppose you’ve considered adoption.”

  I blinked. “Mom, you really want me to put your grandchild up for adoption?”

  God only knew what venomous barbs were on the tip of her tongue just then, as her jaw clenched and her eyes narrowed. “What will you tell people, Carmen?”

  “That Isaac, Don and I are raising this baby.” Assuming I can face them again. “That’s all anyone needs to know.”

  “They’ll talk.”

  “Let them talk.”

  She released a long sigh made of pure disapproval. Then she raised her chin enough that she had to look down her nose at me. “You know, I’m not fond of Donovan. I don’t like the way he spoke to your father and me.”

  I shrugged. “And Don didn’t like the way you and Dad were talking to me.”

  “It’s not his place to tell us how to speak to our own daughter.”

  “Well, Dad wasn’t happy with someone being disrespectful to his wife, and Don wasn’t thrilled about—” I caught myself, swallowing. My woman. I cleared my throat. “Don was being protective of me for the same reason.”

  My mother gave a condescending sniff of laughter. “Except you’re hardly his wife.” She pursed her lips again. “Seems someone already beat you to that role.”

  I winced at the mental image of two bedroom doors on opposite ends of a hall that seemed so much longer now. Don and Isaac had each other. There wasn’t room for me.

  But that didn’t change the fact that they would be involved with this baby’s life.

  “Mom—” Cutting myself off, I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Okay, you know what? We’re not getting anywhere here. I think we all got off on the wrong foot the other night.” I looked her in the eye and pretended my stomach wasn’t a flurry of terrified butterflies. “Here’s the deal. The three of us are going to raise this baby together. If people are going to judge us or spread rumors about us, then they don’t need to be around us. Or our baby.” I set my shoulders back and steeled myself. “And that includes you and Dad.”

  “What?” she snapped. “Are you threatening to keep me away from my grandchild?”

  I laughed. “The same child you were hinting I should give up for adoption?”

  My mother exhaled hard. “Listen, I’m just worried about how this…situation will affect you. All of you. What are you going to tell him when he’s older?”

  “I won’t know until I get there, will I?” Before she could speak again, I said, “What are you most concerned about, Mom? How people will treat my child, or how this will all reflect on you?”

  Her posture stiffened. “Carmen, I just don’t want my grandchild growing up with people gossiping and talking about him behind their hands.”

  “So I can rely on you to defend my situation and tell people to back off when they start gossiping?”

  Her lips thinned into a straight line.

  I gritted my teeth. “It doesn’t matter how this baby was conceived. And quite frankly, like him or not, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have a baby with than Don. Or Isaac, for that matter.”

  She cocked her head. “Which of those two is the father, anyway?”

  I swallowed.

  My mother groaned and let her face fall into her hand. “Jesus, Carmen.”

  “Not that it’s any of anyone’s business,” I said as calmly as I could. “And regardless, they’re both going to be equally involved with raising the baby.” I forced back my nerves and took a breath. “If you and Dad can’t accept that, then…” My heart pounded, and I folded my hands tightly to keep them steady. “If you two can’t accept the way things are, then I’d rather you weren’t involved in my baby’s life.”

  She laughed humorlessly. “Carmen, don’t be ridiculous.”

  “I’m not being ridiculous,” I said. “You haven’t approved of or accepted a decision I’ve made since I was a kid, and now you can’t accept the fact that I’m having a baby.”

  “That’s not what I can’t accept
,” she said. “I can’t accept that you went from a respectable marriage—”

  “To a man you couldn’t stand.”

  “—to throwing yourself into bed with not one but two men who just wanted one thing from you.”

  I stared at her.

  Oh, but she wasn’t finished. “I can’t accept that you’re bringing a child into a situation that’s going to make him the subject of gossip from the rest of society. The three of you may think this is an acceptable arrangement, but, I’m sorry, Carmen, it simply isn’t.”

  “Well, then, I guess there’s nothing left to discuss.” I picked up my purse off the floor and pushed my chair back.

  “Where are you going?” she asked. “I thought we were having lunch.”

  You just don’t get it, do you?

  “I’ve lost my appetite,” I muttered.

  “Well, will I see you at dinner this week?” One eyebrow rose, and the disapproving Church Lady expression dared me to blow off dinner.

  “No.” I squared my shoulders. “No, you won’t.”

  She straightened like I’d smacked her. “I beg your pardon?”

  The scared kid in me wanted to drop her gaze and apologize. Take it all back and promise to dutifully show up for dinner. But I owed that kid better than that and held my mom’s gaze.

  Come on, come on, you can do this.

  “No, I won’t be there.” I forced myself not to gulp nervously. “When you and Dad can accept that I’m having this baby, and that I’m having this baby with Don and Isaac, call me. We can go from there.”

  With that, I got up and turned to go before I lost my nerve. My mother called after me, making that scene she always warned us kids against making, but my pounding heart drowned her out. My gut roiled with nerves, but some long-overdue relief flooded my veins. In spite of the queasiness and shaking hands, I smiled to myself as I pushed the café door open. It had taken only three and a half decades, but I’d stood up to her, and this time I didn’t need Don to step in for me.

  My smile fell.

  Don and Isaac. I still needed to talk to them.

  I took a deep breath. I’d survived the conversation with my mother; I could make it through an awkward one with them.

  I hoped.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Donovan

  Three days passed, and we didn’t hear from Carmen. Isaac tried calling her, and I sent her an e-mail, but she didn’t respond.

  The longer the silence lingered between her and us, the longer the silences lingered between Isaac and me. As she avoided us, we avoided each other. We didn’t talk. We didn’t touch.

  I couldn’t say what went on in his head. If he blamed himself like I blamed myself, or if he just struggled to make sense of what it was that drove her away. What exactly had we done wrong? Which part?

  Come on, Carmen, talk to us.

  The morning of the fourth day, we both stood in the kitchen, quietly getting ready to leave for our respective jobs, and Isaac finally broke the silence.

  “Have you heard from her?” he asked.

  “No. She hasn’t responded to my e-mail.”

  He sighed. “I’m really worried about her.”

  “Me too.” I scratched the back of my neck. “What should we do?”

  “You think I have the answer?” Isaac snapped, and I jumped.

  Staring at him, I said, “I was just, I…”

  He threw up his hand and leaned hard against the counter. “You expect me to have some magic answer? Pre-prepared and ready to throw out there? Don’t you think I’d have told you by now if I had one?”

  I blinked. “No, but you are involved in this as much as I am, so…” I put up my hands. “What did I say? I’m just trying to work this out.”

  Isaac exhaled, and his shoulders dropped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bite your head off.”

  I came around the kitchen island and put my hands on his waist. “What’s wrong? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “No, no, it’s not that.” Isaac avoided my eyes for a moment. Then he finally whispered, “It’s just… I spend every fucking day solving everyone else’s problems. But this, what we’re dealing with, this isn’t something I know how to address. This is way out of my expertise, and even if it wasn’t? Just once, I’d like to be the one who can look at someone else and ask for help or an answer or”—he made a sharp gesture—“something.”

  “I’m sorry, Isaac,” I said softly. “I wasn’t asking you as a marriage counselor, though.”

  “I know. And…I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. The thing is, I guess I’m used to being able to hold someone’s hand and help them through something, and now, I’m as clueless and worried as any of us.” He swallowed hard and met my eyes. “I’m not used to not having the answers, you know?”

  I put my arms around him and touched my forehead to his. “We’ll resolve this somehow. All three of us.”

  “Assuming we can reach her,” he said.

  “We will.” I cradled the back of his neck in one hand. “Maybe she just needs a little time. This has been hard enough for all of us, and I can only imagine what it’s like for her.”

  “Hopefully she’ll get in touch with us soon,” he whispered.

  “Hopefully.” I kissed him gently, and neither of us was in any hurry to pull away. I didn’t want to be, anyway, but duty called. Drawing back, I said, “I should go. Traffic’s going to be a nightmare if I wait much longer.”

  Isaac nodded. “Yeah, I should get going too. I’ll let you know if I hear from Carmen.”

  “Likewise.” I kissed him again. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  We exchanged one more long, uncertain look, then separated and left for work.

  The ladder truck pulled into the station, and as soon as it stopped, everyone grabbed their gear and got out. Time to clean everything up and get ready for the next call.

  This last call had been a textbook one. A boring call, as the crew said when we were out of anyone else’s earshot. It was a two-car accident on an arterial, and though there was plenty of bent metal, it looked a lot worse than it was. The cars’ crumple zones had done what they were supposed to do, and the two drivers and three passengers were rattled but not seriously injured.

  “Hey, Morris,” the chief called. When I looked, he was leaning out of his office door and gestured for me to come see him.

  “Be right there, Chief.” I turned to the rest of the crew. “Hey, Chief’s asking for me. You guys got this?”

  “Got it covered, man,” Reyes said. “Go ahead.”

  “Thanks.” I clapped his shoulder, then dropped my gear beside the truck and went into the chief’s office. I shouldered the door open. “You wanted to see me?”

  “Actually, no.” He gestured toward the door on the other side of his office, which led to the lounge, kitchen and common areas. “Someone else is here to see you.”

  My heart skipped. “Who?”

  “She’s in the lounge.” Before he went on, I knew who it was. “Said her name was Carmen.”

  “Thanks, Chief,” I said numbly and left his office to find her.

  She was in the lounge, as he’d said, sitting on the couch with her legs tucked up under her. When she saw me, she bit her lower lip and shifted her gaze away.

  “Hey.” I sat beside her. “Good to see you.”

  She cautiously met my eyes, and a faint smile warmed her expression. “Good to see you too.”

  “You doing okay?” I asked. “We’ve been worried about you.”

  The smile disappeared, and she chewed her thumbnail as she dropped her gaze. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”

  I touched her arm. “We’re not upset, hon. We’re just worried. What happened?”

  Carmen sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “It’s about…” She closed her eyes and exhaled hard. “It’s about the room.”

  “What about it?” I asked softly. “Did we…did we do somethi
ng wrong with it?”

  “No,” she whispered. “It’s just…” She bit her lip, and her eyes lost focus. I desperately wanted to coax the answer out of her, but held back, letting her find the words on her own. “The room for the baby is perfect. It really is. I…couldn’t have asked for anything better. But, the one for me…”

  I cringed. “We didn’t mean to impose on you, babe.”

  “No, it’s not that.” She hesitated. “Listen, I need to confess something.” She met my eyes, and the glitter of tears in hers made my lungs forget how to work. “I love you. Both of you.” She paused, probably oblivious to the pounding of my heart. “I mean, I’m in love with both of you, and…I guess when you guys offered to have me move into the other room, it kind of made me realize how frustrated I am that I feel this way, but I can’t have either of you that way.”

  I took her hand. “Says who?”

  “Don.” She wiped her eyes with her free hand. “Come on, we both know—”

  “Carmen.” I touched her chin and gently turned her head so she faced me. “I love you. And so does Isaac.”

  “You…do?”

  I nodded. “We had a good long talk the other night, and maybe we should have told you about it before we showed you the rooms. When we said we wanted to be a family together, we meant it. It’s not that we feel obligated to take care of you or anything like that.”

  Releasing a sharp breath, she shoved a hand through her long hair. “Look, I had to rely on Paul for every penny, even of my own money. He controlled everything, so I was forced to depend on him. After the divorce, I’ve had no choice but to lean on my sister while I get everything squared away.” She looked at me, the faintest hint of tears glittering in her eyes. “I don’t want to depend on you guys, and…it’s not just that.”

  “What is it?”

  “I want to be an equal partner in a relationship,” she said softly. “You know how things ended with Paul. I always felt like the add-on in his life rather than his partner.” She shook her head, and her voice cracked as she whispered, “I can’t do that again.”

  “And you think we’re asking you to?”