by C. C. Piper
“Who’s Ashley?”
I hadn’t told him about my best friend? “She’s my roommate and bestie. She’s awesome.”
“I’ll have to meet her sometime.”
“Does that mean I’ll meet your friends?”
“Well, all mine are back in Louisiana with my family. Does your family live locally?”
“Ashley and her mom are my family. Her mom lives in California, though.” I felt my muscles stiffen up as I waited for him to pry, but he didn’t. Thank God for small mercies.
“Oh, almost forgot.” He pulled a white paper bag from an inner pocket of his long wool coat and handed it to me. “It’s your prenatal vitamins. You told Dr. Carrey you were feeling tired. Besides, you can’t fight me on this because right now, your health is the baby’s health.”
Not willing to quibble on such a minor detail, I gave in. “Thank you.”
The server brought our bill, which Trevor grabbed with a quick, “No worries, you can get it next time.”
I let that go, too. But I would pay next time.
There was an uneasy moment once we were back out on the sidewalk together. What was the appropriate protocol for saying goodbye to a man who’d impregnated you while on a paid date, proceeded to call you a liar when you told him about the baby, then seemed to change his mind and get all supportive? I didn’t know. As much as I wanted to trust that he had my best interests at heart, it was more likely that he was only coming around because I carried his child.
Great. Now I was being selfish.
I was so up in my head about things that I missed him coming closer to me until his lips landed briefly at my temple.
“Text me where you want to go Friday,” he said. Then as he stepped away, he offered me a smile and a wave as he strode off in the opposite direction.
I waved back. Okay, maybe I was overthinking this.
“I will.”
14
Trevor
“How many pieces of baby furniture do you have so far?” I asked Jessica with a slightly raised voice as we sat at a burger place the following week. I suggested the rather noisy family eatery because of a certain item on their menu, a burger with a fried egg on it.
And yes, that’s exactly what she’d ordered.
“Including my old dresser which I’m going to clear off to use as a changing station? One.”
I chuckled at her joke. “My research shows that you might be in need of a few more.”
Her rosebud lips curved up into a smile, her jade eyes sparkling. She looked more energetic today. Less tired. “Research, huh? Are you one of those guys who does research on everything? Like which shampoo get the highest reviews on Amazon?”
“Yes, actually. I’m not a fan of going into something totally blind.”
Her smile slipped. “Me either, but I think we’re getting ready to have to face it anyway.”
“That’s not strictly true. I’ve been looking up everything I can on pregnancy, delivery, and child-rearing. There’s a lot of recommendations and empirical data out there, not to mention practical experiences parents have shared. We’re both smart, capable people. Between the two of us, I think we’ll be able to deal with it.”
She raised an arched eyebrow at me. “And here I thought I had the drop on you since I’ve been reading What to Expect When You’re Expecting.”
“I saw that book on the recommended reading list. I’ve already downloaded to my Kindle app.” At that, she tipped her head back and laughed, her wild curls dancing around her face. Christ, she was so fucking gorgeous. “Why are you laughing?”
“I just find it funny that you’re willing to read a book meant for pregnant ladies.”
“You’re only pregnant because I made you that way. Just trying to do my due diligence before I run out of time.”
Her features softened, and she clutched onto my hand where it lay on the table. “That’s sweet.”
I’ve been called many things but “sweet” had never been one of them. “I wasn’t looking to become a father, Jessica. But now that it’s happened, I want to be the best.”
“Were you one of those kids who had straight As in school?”
“No. I was more of a jock. I loved playing football, so I kept my grades up enough not to get thrown off the team. Never had a four-point GPA, though. I’d hoped to get a shot to play in college, but I blew out my knee my senior year of high school. So, there went that idea.”
“Did it make you sad?” she asked me, her hand still holding mine.
“Eh, at the time I was pretty down. But then, I started taking more of an interest in business. It’s served me well. Better than if I’d played pro ball. Though, I do miss being out on that field sometimes.” I still found great solace in working out and building up a sweat.
We’d both finished our meals, but I wasn’t eager to end our time together. How had this lunch hour gone by so fast? “Maybe I should turn that question around on you? Were you a straight-A kid?”
“Never, though I did make honor roll a few times. I loved school. It was my sanctuary.” She pulled her hand back and fell quiet after this, her expression pensive. I got the impression that she regretted what she’d said. “Better get going. I’ve got another class in a few minutes.”
Reluctantly, I stood, opening the glass door for her on the way out. Over the few glimpses she’d allowed me into her past, I sensed that she had experienced some pretty bad times. I was curious about this, but I hesitated to ask her to go more into depth. If she thought I should know, she’d tell me. Once outside, the noise level dropped, and I was thankful.
“The reason I mentioned supplies was I thought maybe we could go shopping for them together,” I suggested. “What do you think?”
“I’d like that. When?”
“Tomorrow?” What I really wanted was to spend the rest of the day with her, even though we both had work. Each of our lunches together had gone well, but they’d left me wanting more. Every time when I’d gone back to my office, I smelled her light scent on my clothes, and I’d had to concentrate hard to regain my focus.
“I have a full day of classes tomorrow.”
“Sunday?” I hoped I wasn’t coming off as desperate.
“Sure.”
“There are a bunch of baby stores listed in DUMBO and Tribeca. Can I pick you up at your place?” I said, mentioning the shorthand for the section of the city otherwise known as Down Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass.
She hesitated for just a second, then nodded. “Yeah, okay. Here’s my address.”
Sunday started out cloudy and drizzly, and I was afraid Jessica might cancel on me. What fun would it be to go shopping in such icky weather? But then, just as I pulled up in my SUV, the precipitation tapered off, making the umbrella I’d brought less necessary. I hit the buzzer.
“Yes,” came a soprano voice nothing like the mother of my child’s.
“This is Trevor. I’m here for Jessica.”
“She says you can come on up.”
Those words encouraged me. I hadn’t expected an invite inside. Swiftly traversing the three flights to her level, I punched the doorbell to apartment 323. A blond woman with pixie-like hair came to the door, her big light blue eyes narrowed in scrutiny.
“Jessie’s still getting ready,” she said, her pint-sized frame stationed on the threshold like a sentinel. Was she going to let me in?
“Sorry I’m running late,” I heard Jessica’s disembodied voice from another room. “I overslept. Feel free to come in and have a seat, though.”
For a minute, I thought pixie girl wasn’t having it. She continued to regard me like she might a mangy rat. But then, she relented, letting me pass. Their abode was clean but spare on room. Unlike many New York apartments, this one was broken up into separate rooms, but instead of making the place more accessible, it only magnified the lack of space.
Pixie girl and I stood in their snug living room. It was only large enough for a loveseat and a flat panel television a
ttached to the wall. Jutting off to my right was a galley kitchen, if you could actually call it that. The thing was so narrow that I wondered if both Jessica and her roommate could be in there at the same time without bumping into each other. Since both were about a size two and around five feet tall, that was saying something.
Off the common areas of the residence were three doors, one of which had been wedged open and was emitting steam—the bathroom—while the other two remained closed. Jessica came out of the bathroom in a terry cloth robe, her hair in a towel. Blood rushed below my belt, and I felt an impulse to rip them both off her so I could see the splendor of her freshly showered flesh underneath. I glanced away from her because I had to.
Guess I needed to increase my own warm shower time.
Luckily, the courtesy and manners that had been drilled into me since birth kicked in automatically. “Nice place you got here.”
“Thanks,” Jessica called as she hurried into her bedroom. “You want something to drink? We have juice and spring water. Ash, could you get him something?”
Ashley took the two steps required to enter their kitchen. “I’m fine, but thanks,” I said, and she disappeared into the other bedroom.
Though their home wasn’t spacious, it was tidy and well-kept. I’d anticipated bearing witness to frills and girly stuff, but that wasn’t the case. The decorations were fairly sparse, with one garage door like window lighting the living room and framed pictures covering the walls in swaths.
When I scooted closer, I could see that Jessica was in most of them with pixie girl. There was also another woman probably twenty or so years older. Her blond hair and pert nose indicated that she must be the roommate’s mother. I pored over these photos and took in a younger version of the mother of my child. In only one of them was she truly smiling. In the rest, she merely offered a shy Mona Lisa style grin.
I knew that grin. It’d been the one she wore once during the dinner portion of our first “date.”
There was one particular photo collage that kept drawing my attention, and after glancing at all the others, I went back to it. Jessica appeared to be young—maybe still in high school—as pixie girl wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Jessica had on the Mona Lisa grin, but the grin seemed pained and came off more like a grimace.
I leaned in even closer and studied her striking eyes only to find them utterly devoid of life. It was like looking not at the teenaged Jessica at all, but of a plastic manufactured version of her. A Jessica doll. Despite it being unforgivably nosy, I removed the frame, opened it and inspected the back of the photo.
It said “Ash and Jessie” followed by the date, which was four years ago. I knew I was infringing on her privacy and that I should put it back, but I couldn’t. I’d never seen Jessica’s features look like this, like she was an empty shell. Like she was dead inside.
I couldn’t put my finger on why but seeing her like this was disturbing. Frightening, even. What had happened to leave an expression of such utter despair on her face?
I became so consumed by speculating about this that I didn’t have a chance to return the picture to its proper place before Jessica appeared at my side. I glanced over at her, caught red-handed. “What are you doing?”
I replaced the cardboard backing and repositioned it on the nail in the plaster. “Checking out your photo collection.”
“Oh.” She spoke in a carefully neutral monotone.
“This one is from four years ago. Was it taken while you were in high school?”
“Yes. That was shortly before we graduated.” The monotone persisted. I waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t. I was curious as all hell, but I didn’t want to push. If she wanted me to know, she’d tell me, right?
Damn, I really wanted her to tell me.
Then, her roommate materialized at her shoulder and handed over a cell phone. “All charged up, honey. You sure you’re going to be okay today?”
Her words seemed to bring Jessica back to herself. “Of course, silly. I was just tired.”
“If you say so.”
“We can delay this,” I added. I’d been looking forward to spending this time with Jessica, but if she needed to rest, she should.
“No, I’m good. Let’s go.”
For the first time, I absorbed what she was wearing. It was different than anything I’d seen her in before, baggier and much, much more threadbare. There was a ruffled shirt that looked frayed along the edges of each ruffle, as well as jeans that had holes in both knees. But the holes didn’t appear to be artfully applied as much as worn through the thin fabric. I helped her into her coat but wondered if that’d be enough to keep her warm.
I made a note to look into purchasing some maternity clothes ASAP.
When we went outside, the gray skies had half cleared, allowing a few rays of sunshine to drift down over the city like a soft veil. We crossed over into Manhattan and entered the first infant store I’d ever been in, since I’d bought stuff for Jax’s kids online.
It was quite an education, and not just for me, but for Jessica, too. We listened as a sales lady told us all about diaper genies and highchairs, about making our homes child-proof and which toys stimulated an infant brain most effectively.
About an hour in, I asked the lady to give us a moment, and asked Jessica which items she liked. She pointed at a few, bypassing some others, and anything her eyes lit on, I took a quick phone pic of. Then, I waved down our sales lady.
“We’ll need two of all these,” I said, showing her each item in succession.
“Are these purchases or are you putting them on your baby registry, sir?”
“Purchases,” I told her.
“Trevor, may I speak to you? Over here, please?” Jessica led me across the room, the look in her eyes a bit manic.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“You can’t buy all this. Especially not two of each.”
“Why not?” I asked her, stymied. “Did you change your mind about something?”
She huffed out a breath as if I caused her some great offense. “One set of what you just picked out is thousands of dollar’s worth of merchandise.”
“Yeah,” I said, still not getting what the problem was.
“And you asked for two.” Her eyes were huge. Weird.
“Yeah. One set for my apartment and one for yours. We both need a crib and a stroller and so forth. Right?” What was I not seeing here?
“But I can’t let you get all this, especially not for my room.”
Finally, I thought I understood.
“The baby needs it, and it’ll make your life easier. I can afford it, so don’t fight me on this, okay?”
“But I don’t even know if it’ll fit. Ashley traded with me so I could have the bigger bedroom, but it’s still not exactly spacious.”
“We’ll make it work,” I told her, but I did need to get a look at her room so I could estimate how cramped things might be in there. “And anything that you might only need occasionally can be kept in a storage space or my place, okay. I know this is a lot, but we’ll figure it out.”
A line had furrowed deeply into the smooth copper skin between her eyes. She was so cute when she worried over trivialities I was more than happy to take care of. Without conscious thought, I leaned over and kissed that line until it faded into a look of surprise. Then, after giving the sales lady the two separate shipping addresses, we went on to the next store.
After visiting three more stores full of furniture, interactive features like mobiles, and baby clothing, I felt more prepared to welcome our bundle of joy. It occurred to me that I needed to start interviewing nannies as well, since I would still be required to put in just as many hours as usual at the office. In my head, I’d worked out the math that if Jessica and I shared joint custody, I’d need a live-in employee on a full-time basis.
I also needed to discuss this with the woman carrying my child, but so far, it felt too soon. I wasn’t certain how such a conversation wo
uld go and wasn’t in a hurry to start some garish shouting match.
We’d been getting along well, all things considered, and I didn’t want to wreck the peace between us. I’d been such an oaf when she’d clotheslined me with the news, and I would never forget that. My bad behavior had created a chasm between us, and now, I was doing my damnedest to make up for it.
I turned at the unexpected sound of Jessica’s snort. Since she wasn’t one to laugh often, I glanced over to see what she was laughing at. It was a series of something I’d recently learned were called onesies—a one-piece garment that snapped over the infant’s diapers.
The first one said, “That awkward moment when your mom sniffs your butt in front of your friends.” The one next to it said, “It’s all shits and giggles until someone shits and giggles.” I chuckled under my breath at the first two, but it was the last one that got my goat for real. “I was Daddy’s fastest swimmer.”
I laughed so hard heads swiveled in our direction. The fascinating thing was that my outburst sparked Jessica’s, and soon we were both nearly rolling in the aisle. I couldn’t say what triggered our mutual hilarity. But all I kept picturing was that one tenacious-ass sperm of mine that sped through hell and high water—including a goddamn condom—to make this pregnancy happen.
I didn’t regain my cool until I realized that I had both my arms around her shoulders, while each of her hands were clinging to my middle for dear life. And even then, cool wasn’t what I felt. I peered down at her at the same moment that she peeked up at me, and something shifted somewhere near the region of my ribcage.
It felt like being flung from a merry-go-round already spinning at top speed, yet instead of finding myself bruised on the ground, I felt uplifted. High, even. It was the strangest sensation ever. And the strangest thing of all was it had nothing whatsoever to do with our sexual compatibility. I’d experienced plenty of lust around her, but this wasn’t that. This was something else, something I’d never felt before.
I took a step back from her—just a small one—in order to gain some perspective. The instant I broke contact with her, I felt a twinge of absence like … a loss.