OUR UNLIKELY BABY

by Paula Cox

  “Why do you care?”

  “Because it’s my kid, too.”

  “I’m not asking you for anything.”

  “I didn’t say you were. But I have a right to have a say in this.”

  “You have no right,” I said firmly. “I don’t want you involved.”

  “I’m already involved. The moment you told me you were pregnant with my child, I became involved. If you didn’t want me involved, why did you tell me at all?”

  I mentally squirmed. Why, indeed? “I thought you had a right to know,” I replied softly, looking at my shoes again.

  “That’s right. I do. And I have a right to have some input on how the child is—”

  “You can forget that right now! I’m raising this child, not you!”

  “So you’re taking it to term and keeping it?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “I told you, Alex, this is my kid, too. If you had said you were getting an abortion… well, I wouldn’t have agreed to that. Adoption either.”

  “You have no say in the matter,” I said, my dander getting up.

  “The hell I don’t,” he countered just as firmly. “Look, I don’t want to fight, okay? You’re not getting an abortion, and that’s good. We agree on that. So let’s not fight, okay?”

  “Yes. Okay. But I’m not asking you for anything. I will handle it myself.”

  “I want to be involved. I should be involved. Why don’t you want my help?”

  “I don’t think that is a good idea. I don’t want some outlaw biker involved in his or her life.”

  “It won’t be like that,” he said softly.

  “Oh? Why not? You won’t tell me what you do—”

  “I told you! We import machined parts!”

  “—and you wear the 1% patch. I don’t believe for a minute that patch means you ride your bike every day. It means you’re a crook, a thief, and an outlaw. You would be a bad influence. And not only that, you live five hundred odd miles away in Dallas. So you tell me, Cain, exactly how is that supposed to work? How are you going to pop by for ice cream? Are you going to be here to help with the middle of the night feedings? Changing diapers? Can you ride down and watch the baby for an hour or so while I go grocery shopping?”

  Cain looked at me a moment. “You could move to Dallas. I could find you a place and—”

  “New Orleans is my home! Not Dallas. This is where my grandparents live. I can’t leave them! Besides, I’m not moving to Dallas to hang out with a thug.”

  I saw Cain’s face harden. “I’m not like you think. You think you know what you are talking about, but you don’t know shit about what I do – what the Hellhounds do. So just save me the pissy attitude, okay? Have I accused you of being a whore for working in a bar known for its personal service in the back rooms?”

  “No,” I said quietly.

  “Because I don’t make assumptions. You should try it sometime. You might find out things aren’t always the way you think they are.”

  “Are you telling me that you and the Hellhounds are doing nothing illegal – that I don’t have to worry about the cops busting in my door one day and hauling you away in handcuffs? Or worse, some rival gang showing up and gunning us all down in cold blood? Is that what you are telling me?”

  “I’m telling you, I’m not like you think I am.”

  “That didn’t answer the question!”

  He stood up and paced back and forth a couple of times before he turned to face me. “I don’t understand why you are so hung up on what I do!”

  “Because, goddamnit, you won’t give me a straight answer!” I raged as I jumped to my feet to confront him. “I work in a bar. That’s what I do! I don’t do drugs, I don’t sleep around, and I don’t drink all that much. You’re my first lover in almost three months. I have a normal, stable life! Can you say the same? That’s why I’m hung up on what you do! I don’t want my baby growing up knowing her father has been thrown in jail, killed, or run off with some whore! I don’t want her father coming home completely shit-faced every night after being out drinking with his biker pals! Why is that so hard for you to understand?”

  Cain stared at me a moment. “It won’t be like that, I promise. Yes I drink, and party hard sometimes. But I can stop. Just come to Dallas with me and you’ll see. Alex, I… want to help you.”

  “Uh huh. I don’t need your help.”

  “How do you know? Have you ever had a baby before?”

  “No. Have you?” I countered just to be a bitch.

  “No,” he said slowly. “But I think I know more about what lies in store for you than you think.”

  “Uh huh. How’s that?”

  “You won’t come to Dallas?”

  I noticed that he completely dodged the question, but I let it slide. It’s always the secrets with him. “No. I can’t.”

  He stroked his beard slowly as he thought. “Okay. I’ll figure something out.” He smiled at me, that smile that made me get all squishy inside. “I want to be with you, to help you… and I always get what I want.”

  “Not this time, you won’t.”

  His smile broadened. “We’ll see. So it’s a girl?”

  “What?” I asked as my brow wrinkled and I tried to follow the sudden turn in the conversation.

  “You said ‘I don’t want her father coming home completely shit-faced every night.’ So I asked if you knew it was a girl.”

  “Oh. No. Too early. Why?”

  He gave me a lopsided grin. “I don’t know. I guess it doesn’t matter, but having a little girl would be cool.”

  I smiled softly. I was kind of hoping for a little girl myself. “Just healthy. That’s all I want. Healthy and with as normal of a life as I can provide.”

  Cain stepped in close and I could, once again, feel the pull of him. “Normal would be to have a mother and a father.”

  “A father who was home every night.”

  “I could be home every night,” he said as he moved in closer. “I could take care of both my girls.”

  I took a step back, not liking the way he was making me feel. “You can’t even take care of yourself. The last time I saw you, you were only two drinks from being face down in a gutter.”

  Cain snickered. “Not my finest hour, I admit. But look at me now. Two drinks, just as I said.”

  I had to give him that. After his two drinks, he had switched to soda. “You said you wanted this to be a night to remember. Think you will remember it now?”

  He stepped in close again and pulled me gently to him, his arms going around me. He smiled as he brought his lips close to mine. “It has been a memorable night, that’s for sure.” He kissed me gently on the lips and I swear I could feel my toes tingle. “It’s late. We can talk more about this in the morning.”

  I wanted him. I wanted him so badly. “No,” I said as I pushed him gently away and slipped from his embrace. “No. There is nothing left to talk about.”

  “There’s a lot to talk about,” he said quietly as he held my hands, bringing one to his lips. “What will you do after the baby is born? How will you live?”

  “I have savings,” I said, pulling my hand away. “I’ll be fine.”

  “You need me.” He moved to kiss me again but I turned away.

  “Just go.”

  He tried to turn my face toward him but I resisted. He didn’t increase the pressure, didn’t force me to turn, but pulled at my chin with a gentle, steady, pressure until I turned to face him. He kissed me, softly, just a feathery touch of his lips to mine before he kissed me on the forehead. “I always get what I want,” he said softly before he backed off. He touched my belly gently, a slow caress before he stepped back and smiled at me. “Thank you for telling me.”

  “You had a right to know.”

  “Yes. But you still could have made the choice to not tell me. Thank you, Alex. I mean that.” He smiled again and walked to the front door. As he opened it, he looked back at me and smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow,�
�� then stepped into the night.

  I moved to the door, locked it, then stood, confused by what I was feeling until I heard his bike rumble to life then fade into the distance. I shook myself. What I was feeling was just the hormones talking. I hoped. I couldn’t be involved with Cain. I couldn’t!

  Chapter 5

  I walked out of the bedroom and into the living area of my house, yawning and scratching myself awake. It was only eleven in the morning, but I had a doctor’s appointment at two and I hated feeling rushed in the mornings. With another huge yawn, I stepped to the windows and cranked open the blinds in the kitchen, then did the same for the living room. When I opened the front door to allow the morning sun to pour in, I squeaked in surprise. Cain was sitting on the steps to my porch.

  “Good morning,” he said, twisting around so he could face me.

  “What are you doing here?” I demanded without opening the glass storm door between us.

  “I told you that I would see you this morning when I left last night.”

  “How long have you been sitting out there?”

  “Only a couple of hours.”

  “A couple of hours? You’ve been sitting there since nine o’clock?”

  “About eight-forty-five, actually,” he said with a grin. “I didn’t want to miss you.”

  I debated on what to do. I couldn’t decide if he was sweet or creepy. “What are you, a stalker?”

  He laughed. “No. I was hoping to have another chance to talk to you after we had a good night’s sleep.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  He sighed. “May I please come in? My ass is starting to hurt from sitting on these concrete steps.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Alex, please. I really need to talk to you.” He made no threatening move or tried to force his way in. He didn’t even rise from the steps.

  I unlocked and opened the door in invitation. “Okay. But I have something to do later, so you are going to have to make it quick.”

  He grinned then rose and stretched his back with a couple of twists before stepping up to the door. “Thank you. You look lovely this morning.”

  “Don’t even try,” I warned. He was neat and put together, where I was bed tossed and dressed in baggy black and gold sweats with the Saints logo on them. “Can I get you anything?”

  “Coffee, if you have it.”

  “Not yet, but I was planning on brewing some.” I busied myself in the kitchen to get the machine going. “What is it you want to talk to me about?”

  “Me.”

  I blinked a couple of times as I mentally replayed what he had said to make sure I heard him correctly. “You?”

  “Yeah. You don’t know what you are getting into, but I do. I thought I would share some life experiences with you. I really do want to help you, Alex. And whether you believe it or not right now, you will need help.”

  “And you know this, how?”

  Cain pulled out a chair at my table and sat down, motioning for me to do the same. Once I was down, he began. “I thought over what has happened last night, and I realized that you could be my mother.” He held up his hand to silence me when I started to speak. “Just let me finish. Mom said I was conceived during a one night stand. Mom worked at The Lancaster Hotel in Houston. It’s a very upscale place catering to the rich and powerful. She was in charge of guest services, the concierge, everything to do with making sure the guests’ stay was pleasant, that sort of thing. Anyway, one night, this oilman came in and threw a lot of money around. Long story short, she ended up spending the night with him. Like you, she got pregnant. Unlike you, she was older and when she contacted him, she found out he was married and he denied everything. Rather than create a scandal, she just decided to raise me on her own. She is a lot like you. Determined, strong, and hard-headed.”

  “She told you all of this?”

  “Yes. When I was older. Everything except his name. Things went okay for a while. But when I was born, it got tougher. She started missing work because of me. Finally, they demoted her. Then she had trouble making ends meet and we started a slow spiral into poverty. One day her car broke down and she didn’t have the money to replace it. It took over a month to scrape together enough money to fix it, and she had to beg rides to work. That was the last straw and she was fired. Then she started working where and when she could. I was old enough to remember when she was fired. I hated how she cried all the time and I remember thinking that if I just ran away, she wouldn’t have to take care of me and she would be happy again. She was a proud woman. She didn’t like living on government handouts and charity. I can barely remember living in our house, then an apartment, but finally we ended up in assisted living. We never had anything. I remember for Christmas, when I was ten, I got a package of underwear, a package of socks, and a few pieces of candy. That was it.”

  I listened with rapt attention. Cain spoke softly and matter of factly, as if reading from a book. I could tell he wasn’t asking for my sympathy, but was delivering a cautionary tale.

  “At one point, I can’t remember how old I was, I remember that all we had to eat was rice for a while.” He had been staring into space as he spoke, reliving his memories behind his eyes. But then he looked at me and I saw him return from the past.

  “I’m sorry,” I said softly.

  “Nothing to be sorry about. But I wanted you to know how quickly it can all turn on you. My grandparents, I guess they helped as much as they could. I know I would go spend time with them when I was small, when things got really tough. As I got older, it got easier. But she would probably be the manager of the Lancaster by now and pulling down six figures, not managing a Best Western. And it was all because of me and the fact that she was too stubborn to go to court to force a paternity test and make the father take responsibility for what happened. She was afraid the scandal would cost her her career. In the end, it didn’t matter. She lost her career anyway.”

  “And you don’t know who your father is?”

  “No. She simply will not tell me. Not even his first name. Claims ‘it’s water under the bridge,’ whatever the hell that means.”

  “Is that how you became involved in the Hellhounds?”

  Cain shrugged. “As I grew up, I found out that I had the gift of gab, I guess you could say. I could talk anyone into anything. Or talk my way out of anything. When I was in high school, Mom was dating a Hellhound. I talked my way into the club. I started out washing their bikes for a little spending money. I was like their pet, I guess. Anyway, they sort of took me under their wing, and here I am.”

  “And what do you do, again?”

  Cain sighed. “Are we back on this again? Remember how I said I could talk anyone into anything? That’s what I do. I sell stuff for the Hellhounds. That’s it. No different than any other salesman.”

  I got up and poured up a couple of cups from the coffee flagon then turned and set one in front of him. “How do you take it?”

  “Black. Thanks.”

  Rather than beat him up about what I knew he wouldn’t tell me, I tried a different method. “Why do you work for the Hellhounds?”

  “Because I have no marketable skills. Because they gave me a home and treated me well. Because the money is good. And because I’m good at my job.”

  “If you are that good of a salesman, why don’t you find a real job?”

  I saw his lips tighten. “I have a real job.”

  “Sorry. Let me rephrase that. Why don’t you get a job where you don’t have to dance around what you do? Like selling cars for example, or something like that.”

  “I told you what we do, whether you believe it or not.”

  “Machined parts for a machine? A machine that isn’t illegal but you can’t tell me what it is?”

  “That’s right. And to answer the other part of your question, because I make more money now than I could possibly hope to make selling cars. Because the Hounds need me. And because I can�
�t put what I do on a résumé.”

  “Why not, if it isn’t illegal?”

  “Would you hire a guy that has worked the last five years for a motorcycle club?”

  “That’s my point, Cain. That’s what I’ve been saying all along. What you do is either legal or illegal. If you can’t put it on a résumé, why should I believe you that it is legal?”

  “Just forget it,” he sighed.

  “I can’t forget it!” I cried as I slapped my hands on the table. “That’s the whole problem. I don’t want to trade one problem for a worse one.”