by Gem Sivad
Kitten. Kit, as in his wife had been named Kit. Kit as in my wife died, Kit. I ripped myself out of his arms, out of the bed, and into the bathroom. I didn’t need an explanation or a bucket of cold water. I’d been iced down. I shivered and tried to warm myself under a hot shower, but it didn’t help much.
I wanted him to be gone when I came out of the bathroom. He’d dressed and made the bed, but instead of departing, I could hear him downstairs.
My thoughts were scrambled as I hurried to pull on clothes. Before he left, I wanted to tell him not to come back. Shit. My life was so messed up right now.
What kind of inept moron puts the condom on wrong? It wasn’t hard to work up anger at Marty since the whole damned thing was his fault. The thought finally occurred to me that I could have caught more than a baby from him.
On top of everything else, and maybe what pissed me off the most, was, I’d really been getting into the warm and cozy vibes and I’d left myself vulnerable.
Won’t be making that mistake again. I was going to have to find a new closet. Since Marty had occupied mine, it wouldn’t be the same.
I hurried downstairs, hoping he’d gone to the backyard. He seemed fascinated by the swing, undoubtedly it called to his not very inner child.
But no, there he was sitting at my table. He had a notepad in front of him. I recognized it as mine. The one I used to make lists and write down measurements and stuff. I kept it in my side drawer next to the sink. He’d helped himself.
I don’t know why I’d expected him to be embarrassed that he’d called me by his wife’s name. He clearly hadn’t been affected. Maybe he didn’t even realize it had happened. I leaned in the doorway of the kitchen trying to decide what issue to address. I chose one I could handle.
“Stop rummaging through my drawers.”
His eyebrow went up. I detected a smirk on his lips.
“What is wrong with you?” I asked. “You don’t get to take over my life. Are you nuts? What do I have to do to see the last of you?”
He slid the notepad he’d been using across the table to the far edge. I still had to enter the room and walk across the floor to pick it up, which irritated me. He’d made a list. Number one, what a surprise, See a doctor.
Marty
Shit happens alright. Hell. I’d been in deep clover, dreaming about making love to Kit. We’d been together, she’d been real, in my arms, her heat warming the last of the frozen particles from my heart. And then…
I stared at the woman who’d sucked the ice from my veins and apparently into her own. She did not appear happy, sort of like the Road Warrior chick right before she made a kill. I guess I should be grateful Holly was only leaning against the doorframe and glaring at me. She did look sexy.
Yes, no doubt a shrink would point out that I felt conflicted. The dream had been so real, but the real part of it stood in front of me.
Her wet hair hugged tight to her skull outlining the attractive shape of her head. I wondered if she knew a cowlick had sprouted at the back. The way her jeans hung from her hips and tee shirt clung to her tits, it seemed evident she’d still been damp from her shower when she rushed downstairs to have her say before I left. I was glad I’d made my list.
She opened her mouth to speak. I held up my hand, halting her. “First, I have a few issues to discuss concerning the baby.”
At least I got her into the room. When she picked up my list I considered that progress. I don’t like explanations, but it was possible I owed her one.
“I was seventeen when I married Kit Cahill. She was thirty-four. She was pissed off at the cheating sonofabitch she was engaged to and promised him she’d marry the first guy she saw.” I paused, savoring the same smug satisfaction I’d felt then. “I made sure that guy was me.”
Of course, I’d been hard to miss. I stood six feet two by the time I turned fourteen, quit school, and had gone to work for an Alabama oil rigger named Jack Cahill, Kit’s father. I’d developed serious lust for Kit when I saw her the day I was hired. During the next three years, I’d kept growing and so had my crush. I was six feet five by the time Kit made her infamous vow, and I’d already been trying to figure out how to get her attention.
“When I heard Kit, spouting off to Jack, I stepped in front of her and said, ‘I’d be pleased to make you my wife.’ We drove one county over to get married, returned the next day.” Every time Kit had told the story she’d laughed, but it had always been a soft sound of pleasure.
I ached, wishing I could relive that time again, until my glance landed on the woman carrying the baby I hadn’t been able to give Kit. My voice was harsh even to my own ears as I ended my nostalgic reminiscing and told Holly the truth.
“Kit and I were married fifteen years and still would be if she hadn’t died of cancer. Sometimes good things turn to shit.”
“Yeah,” Holly agreed and shrugged. “And your point is?”
“About upstairs. Sorry. I’ve had sex with one woman before you. I’ve slept with one woman before you, the same woman. Before today, the last time I occupied a bed, Kit was in it with me.”
“How long ago was that? How old was she? How old are you, for that matter?”
“She was forty-nine when we lost the battle with cancer. I’m thirty-eight.” The usual feeling of despair threatened to overwhelm me until Miss Sarcastic interrupted my reverie.
“Well if you haven’t been using a bed, where have you been sleeping? A tree? A cave? And for how long?”
“My office.” It was my turn to shrug. “It’s been six years since Kit died.” I crossed my arms on the table and leaned toward her. “I have an idea how we can help each other.”
Holly
Well if that’s true, I guess I don’t have to worry about catching more than I already caught. Relief made me feel dizzy again. At the same time, I had so many things to say, I thought I’d strangle as they all tried to spew from my mouth.
“I looked outside. Your mammoth vehicle is not there. How did you get here?”
“I never left. I was still too drunk to think straight so I sent Garret and Jack on their way. I sat in your swing. Didn’t want to go back to my office.”
“And then you came inside.”
“After your friends left, you turned on the porchlight and unlocked the door. I took that as an invitation.”
Which it had been, even though I’d not known he was already here. It had been more a wistful longing. Darn it, I could feel the edge of my righteous anger slipping away.
I glanced at the list again. Doctor, insurance, income, exercise. The first three items left my stomach in knots and my earlier serenity blown all to hell.
“I get a lot of exercise,” I told him, starting at number four since it didn’t cost anything.
“What, aside from walking and waiting tables which you will not be able to do soon? Which leads us back to income. What is yours?”
“None of your business. And of course, I’ll be able to work.” Anxiety morphed to anger quickly, and I embraced it.
“What else besides waitressing,” he persisted, ignoring my need to fight.
“I work nights, too.” I didn’t miss his beady-eyed stare as he waited for me to explain further. I didn’t. He leaned forward, his jaw jutting aggressively, his posture poised for combat.
“Humble Homes,” I muttered. “Satisfied? Now go away.”
“What the hell do you do there?” Obviously not okay with my answer, he demanded explanation.
“None of your fucking business, you cretin. Stop badgering me and get out.”
“And insurance?” It seemed he wasn’t leaving until we worked our way through his list. Since he was too big for me to evict, I sighed and sat down.
“I don’t have a regular doctor which doesn’t matter because I’ll have to go to a specialist for a baby.”
“A perinatologist,” he inserted.
“What the heck is that?” I really hadn’t heard of that kind of doctor.
“I re
searched it. It’s a doctor with additional training for high-risk pregnancies.”
“Why would I need a high-risk doctor? I’m fine.”
“We don’t know that until you’ve been to the doctor which we’re arranging right now. We’ll begin with the best; someone with training ready to handle anything. That way we don’t have to break-in a new guy if things develop.”
“First, there won’t be any guys poking around on me. I’ll make an appointment with a female doctor.”
“See, we’re already making progress. You want a woman tending you. Fine.”
“Number two,” I continued without acknowledging his input. “I have insurance. It sucks. I don’t get sick much which is good because the deductible is horrific.” He opened his mouth. Before he could chime in, I cut off his. “Number three. I have three jobs that keep my bills paid. I wait tables, monitor inventory at the HH building and supply company, and substitute teach. Number four. All of the above plus my house renovations give me plenty of exercise.”
I don’t know what I expected. Certainly, not for him to put on a pair of glasses and start scribbling on a piece of paper in front of him.
When he finished, he slid one big hand across the table, pushing a check toward me. Without touching it I leaned forward to see the amount.
Hmmm… Fifteen hundred dollars. “And this would be for…?” Not enough to raise a child alone. Too much for take-out dinner.
“I called a realtor friend. The houses in this area lease for twice that amount per month. I’ll pay you that much to rent a room, so I can be here while you gestate.”
Gestate? “Where the hell do you come up with this stuff? Farm animals gestate. Humans…” Okay, I didn’t know the term for a woman carrying a baby, but gestation just sounded wrong.
“Look it up, baby doll. You’ll find it in the dictionary.”
“I’m not a baby doll,” I snapped, side-stepping the real issue. Fifteen hundred freaking dollars. Each month. Marty rooming with me wasn’t without precedent since he’d rented from Harley-Jane when his first office building burned down.
“Concentrate on what’s important. You’re gestating. You’re the mother of my kid. I planted the seed and one way or another I’m watching him grow.” Marty had reverted to being the overbearing ass I was reluctantly coming to know.
“No.” I stared at the check, itching to grab it up and stuff it in my pocket. Instead, I kept my twitchy fingers away from the money, and fixed my gaze on his chin.
“Yes.” He didn’t even ask me why. Two could play that game.
“No.”
“Look,” he said. “I didn’t force you. We both consented to sex. I personally thought it was great. I’ve done what I can to rectify your first disappointment. If you didn’t like the second taste of me, okay. I can live with never fucking you again. But,” he paused and leaned forward even more. “You don’t get the kid all to yourself. He’s half mine. I’m claiming him. Besides, you need my money to make it happen right.”
I bristled at his tone. It didn’t matter that what he said was mostly true. I felt aggrieved, put-upon.
“I don’t know the gender and neither do you. Stop calling what may be her, a he.”
“A girl’s okay,” he conceded. “I’ll get used to pink.”
“Pink? Stop with the stereotypes. Your age is showing.”
“Just call me Big Daddy,” he grinned and waggled his eyebrows at me.
Jeez, while I wrestled with the image of me curled up on his lap calling him daddy, heat blossomed in my lower regions and lust clouded my mind.
“I won’t be here all that much,” he assured me, adding a bonus to his proposition.
“How much?” The firm hell no resounding in my mind started tipping more toward maybe.
“I’ll be gone on a job next week. That’s why I want to get things worked out now.”
Somehow, we’d gone from no to working things out in less time than it had taken for me to get pregnant. I made a mental note to remember Marty’s negotiating tactics. Bully, coax, bribe.
“I’ll think about it. When you get back, I’ll give you an answer.”
“Not good enough,” he answered immediately.
“Hey, we had sex but I don’t know a darned thing about you other than you’re bossy. And since you’re not my employer, an older relative, or my significant other, you are not my boss.” I paused to think if I’d overlooked anything and added quickly, “And if you were my significant other you still wouldn’t be my boss.” Statement made, I crossed my arms and glared at him.
He gave me his patient, long suffering expression and said, “You’re making this a lot more complicated than it needs to be. Rent me a room, for fuck’s sake. What are you afraid of? You’re virtue’s safe with me.” Okay, so now he’d introduced the scaredy-cat challenge.
I couldn’t help myself. My glance shifted back to the check. It would cover my mortgage payment. My resolve began to crumble which pissed me off even more. Marty was making me see one big fact I’d been trying to avoid. I really wanted this baby and without some frigging miracle, I couldn’t afford it. I assessed the frigging miracle staring at me and made up my mind.
“You are not to stick your nose in my business.”
“Agreed.”
“You cannot hang around where I work and cause trouble.”
“Not a problem.”
“You buy your own food and keep your own messes cleaned up.”
“Of course.” He agreed to every condition I put before him. He was maneuvering me, herding me and I didn’t like it. I couldn’t escape reality though. The baby was made of parts of him as well as me. Poor little thing.
Before either of us could change our minds, I snatched the check from the table and shoved it in my pocket. “Okay. The spare room’s all yours.”
“I don’t get the king size?” He gave me a cocky grin. I bared my teeth at him and he muttered, “Okay, okay, I’ll make do. Baby needs a place to stretch out and grow so I’m not complaining. Still, it’s big enough for two—”
“You talk in your sleep. Not doing that again.” I at least wiped the smug expression from his face. “Going to work, now. Knock yourself out moving your things into the room across the hall.”
“Need a ride? I can call someone to bring the Hummer.”
“No. I need exercise, remember?”
“Do I get a key? Or do you prefer that I climb through a window or slide down the chimney?”
I retraced the mental footsteps that had led to him moving in, wondering if I’d officially gone nuts. Hard as I tried, I could not think of Marty as a stranger. I didn’t know him, but, he and I were going to share a kid. His moving in made as much sense as anything else in my life.
“Do you negotiate contracts for your company?” I asked, handing him a key to my house.
“Yes,” he grunted, giving me a look of disapproval. “You didn’t even haggle. You could have gotten more out of me for the room.”
He pocketed the key and followed me to the door. I expected him to ask when I’d be back. He didn’t. Instead he pulled out his phone and said, “What’s your number?”
“Why do you need my number?”
“I’m a tenant. You’re my landlord. I have a right to be able to contact you if something goes wrong with the plumbing.”
“Nothing is wrong with the plumbing.” I threatened him with my stare, wondering if I should take the key back and kick him out. “Don’t touch my tools or the cupboards. Don’t mess with the house. Just don’t.” But I pulled my phone from my pocket and handed it to him.
He looked at the blank screen than at me.
“Push the button on the side,” I told him impatiently.
“Don’t you have to unlock it?”
“No. Just key in your number and give it back.”
“Done,” he grinned, plugging in his number and calling it. As I listened, his phone chimed, and I realized he’d out-maneuvered me again.
Part of
me wanted to lock into hunker-down mode, climb in my closet, bar the door, and not come out for a week, maybe more. I needed some serious head time. Too much had happened too quickly, changing my reality overnight.
And yet, I’d given Marty a key to the front door, and his check rode in my pocket. We hadn’t discussed its disbursements because that was none of his business. I bristled at the idea of him monitoring my expenditures and yet, I braced myself for the coming event.
Marty
The mother of my kid didn’t have a bit of common sense. What was she thinking letting an unknown male shack up with her? It had taken me less than a minute to get Holly to give up her cell phone number and hand over a key, confirming my first opinion.
On the other hand, it simplified everything and her readiness to be practical boded well for the future…our future.
I knew I was rushing things, but dammit, having discovered I was going to be a dad, I wanted this with the ferocity of a lion. I refused to slow down for fear I’d lose hold of this miracle.
As soon as my landlord left, I called Jack. “Pick me up at Holly’s.” I puttered around, checked out the bedroom upstairs she’d granted me, and explored the outside more until he arrived in the Hummer. I liked the place. It needed a lot of work. I found a push mower in the utility shed in the corner of her yard. Like the shed, the mower was old but well kept.
It being mid-April, the grass was barely long enough, but I’d mowed half the yard anyway by the time Jack arrived. He sat in the swing while I finished and put the mower away.
“What’s up?” he asked as I brushed green clippings from my pants.
“I’m moving in here today.”
“Fast work. Yours or hers?” He frowned as he studied me.
“Mine. Renting a room from her. I intend to be part of my kid’s life from the get-go.”
“Do you want to know more about your landlord; what she’s been doing and who she’s been doing it with? I can call Hack and ask him to put a rush on this. He owes us a favor.”
Hack was just what his name implied. In a digital/cyber world, Hack could go anywhere. In the real-time space our bodies occupy, his minions served his will.
Last year, the company had been one such minion. We’d extracted Hack’s nephew from a dicey situation. The kid had been wandering through Europe, nosing around where he shouldn’t. He was caught when he’d crossed the wrong border.