Tell Me No Secrets: Secret Baby Romance Collection

by Jamie Knight

  "And awkwardness ensued?" dad guessed.

  "Surprisingly no. We kind of flirted. It was a bit acid tinged but mostly friendly. I really thought she would throw some wine at me and storm off and I wouldn't blame her if she did."

  "Is there something I should know?" dad asked.

  It was even less comfortable talking about sex with dad than with Kristen, but I figured it couldn't hurt. I needed to talk to someone and neither Kora nor Kristen were available right then. And Kora might not ever be available for me again.

  "There was a misunderstanding, a couple misunderstandings, when we were all younger that left both Kora and me with hurt feelings and bruised egos and made Kora and Kristen drift apart. Mixed signals, let's say, but when we saw each other again, Kora and me that is, not Kristen and me; this isn't a John Ford play."

  "Who?" Dad interrupted.

  "Playwright? Writing around the same time as Shakespeare. Wrote 'Tis Pity She's

  a - never mind. We just didn't seem to be able to keep away from each other. Texting, calling, a date and, well, relations, all within a day. I thought it would be one time thing. Sort of satisfying our curiosity. Finally doing what had never happened before. Then it happened again, sort of out of the blue. Both times she left before breakfast. Before daybreak, actually. And then, with nothing particular seeming to change, she did. Stay the night, that is. Now she won't talk to me. Though she and Kristen seem to still be friends."

  "That makes sense. In my experience women tend to form a different sort of bond with each other."

  "Make sense," I said.

  At first it sounded a bit sexist, but he wasn't wrong. I had noticed how sad Kora's absence had made Kristen. As much as I had wanted to be in contact with Kora during all those years we weren’t, I was also somewhat aware that it was our failed attempt at a relationship that had pushed Kristen and her apart in the first place. At least I suspected it was. Brother's intuition and all that.

  "I remember Kora being a really sweet girl," dad said.

  "She is," I admitted, mostly to myself.

  "I'm glad Kristen is friends with her again."

  "She does seem happier now," I said.

  "Good friends can be hard to find," dad said.

  I figured he would know as well as anyone.

  "Don't I know it," I said.

  I wasn't still in contact with any from my "friends" from high school or even college, when I managed to balance a bit more and go out a bit. Most of them were really just hang a rounds. Probably hoping some of my popularity would rub off on them.

  There was really no one I trusted, except for Kristen of course. I didn't realize it at the time but in a lot of ways, though she was pretty young, she was there for me when things got dark. It was morbid to think, but if I was really honest with myself, it was unlikely I would still be alive if it weren't for her.

  "Sometimes, when things are complex, it is best to leave them in the past," dad said.

  "Yeah," I said, feeling a weight in my chest.

  Dad and I may be talking now, trying to patch things up, but that is something he would also never be able to do with grandpa. I really was in awe of his strength and determination to keep going.

  "Best not to risk things for your sister," dad said.

  "You’re right," I agreed.

  "Haven't heard that in a while," dad said with a chuckle.

  "Well, you're going to be hearing it a lot more. I mean, you did run the business for nearly twenty years. That gives you what? Sixteen years more experience than me?"

  "Fourteen, but who’s counting?" Dad said, good humored as usual.

  "Right, well, the point is, I'm mostly going to be the captain of the ship. I learned a lot but I also know enough to defer to those with more experience."

  "Good to know," dad said.

  "Kristen should get a say-so, though, too. I gave her a lot more shares of the business than Grandpa had left her. Honestly, I think she was kind of short-changed in that respect. Yeah, she got the nice stuff but she worked on the sailing business too. Sure, she's not working anymore but she should get something."

  "That's my boy! How much did you give her?"

  "Twenty-five percent of my fifty. You get back the other fifty. It is truly a family business now."

  "I think I'm gonna cry," dad said.

  "Please do," I said. “It would make me feel like less of a loser for doing it sometimes myself.”

  "What would your grandpa say about that?"

  "Something stupid and retrograde, I suspect," I said.

  That made dad laugh his full belly laugh that always reminded me of Santa Clause.

  "It's not good to speak ill of the dead, son."

  "Even when I only speak the truth?" I asked.

  "Especially then," dad joked.

  "Oh no!" I exclaimed in faux horror.

  "Don't worry, kid. I'll keep you on the straight and narrow," dad said.

  "And help the business, too," I said.

  "We’ll see."

  "I call poo-poo on your 'we'll see'; you've got good ideas and it is high time you got a chance to put them into action."

  "It's nice someone thinks so," dad said.

  I didn't think this was directed at me, but I still felt bad. I might not have given him shit back in the day, but I had sided with grandpa, tacitly supporting his point of view, back when I was too young and ignorant to see what bullshit it was.

  "Hard to disagree with facts, dad. Without looking like an idiot."

  "You know, traditionally, it is meant to be the parent encouraging the child. Not the other way around," dad said.

  "I'm beginning to question tradition," I said

  "I can't say that's a bad idea. Tradition did lead Europe into two world wars."

  "Not that we should entirely dismiss the past," I said.

  "No," dad agreed, "just look at it critically. Taking the good ideas and leaving the bad."

  "I really should have listened to you more," I said.

  "Sounds like a bit got through," dad said.

  "Yeah," I said.

  "It's also not too late to start," dad offered.

  "Let's hope not," I said, "we'll see what happens over the next week."

  "I can't wait; thanks for letting me back into the company. I know you didn't have to."

  "Yes, I did."

  "I’ll see you tomorrow, hey?" dad said, actually sounding like he might cry.

  "Keep your stick on the ice," I said, quoting one of dad's favorite phrases.

  Chapter Seventeen - Kora

  I had always loved eggs. Anyway they could be made, I would eat them. By the plate full, if I could.

  Apparently most people got sick when they ate too many eggs. Of course, "too many" is a relative concept. And I knew of no such thing, when it came to egg.

  One of my favorite things in the world, along with silk panties and having my asshole pounded by Logan’s huge cock, as I had recently found out, but could no longer have so I try to forget about that, was a cheese omelet with lots of salt and ketchup. If I was ever feeling sad, or was just looking for a good start to my day, I would make myself one.

  It came as a surprise, then, that while cooking what I thought to be a well-made cheese omelet, I started to lose my appetite for it. It was almost as if I hated my formerly favorite food and wanted nothing to do with it.

  It came as even more of a surprise when the feeling that washed over me was not an all-consuming bliss but the overwhelming need to vomit. One of the few advantages to the tiny size of my apartment was it was a short trip from the living room, where I had the dining table, to the bathroom.

  As soon as I caught my breath, I started to cry. Not just from the pain in my stomach but also from what I was pretty sure they meant. I was raised pretty sheltered, but even I knew what it meant when a woman got sick in the morning and suddenly went off her once favorite food.

  I put my hands over my boobs. I couldn't imagine them getting bigger tha
n they already were, but my mom's had. I had seen pictures of her both before and after she was pregnant with me.

  There was also the issue of what the hell I was going to do to raise a baby. Particularly on my own. My dad had died a few years before and my grandma had gone before him. The only one left in my immediate family was my mom and there was no way I was going to tell her I was pregnant out of wedlock.

  I was just going to have to get by on my own as well as I could. Because there was no way I was telling Logan about this, no matter how many times he tried to call me. I’d sworn to leave him alone with his mystery visitor and I didn’t want anything to change my mind about that, lest I seem pathetic and desperate.

  I took a breath and tried to calm down. I didn't really know anything for sure yet. Pregnancy was a possibility for sure but there could well have been other causes for what happened. I could have caught a flu on the streets, or eaten a bad batch of eggs.

  I couldn't freak out. There was no reason for it, not yet, and even if it was true, it wouldn't be good for me and likely wouldn’t do the baby, if there was a baby, any favors. I needed to know for sure before I did anything.

  It was raining on my way downtown. Of course it was. The traffic wasn't too bad though. The last thing I needed were any more obstacles on my way to the truth. I happened to look at the clock in the console.

  "Shit," I said, my language getting significantly dirtier since I left home.

  I fished my phone out of my inside pocket and hit the speed dial button for work. I knew it could be dangerous to use a phone and drive but I didn't want to lose my job as a masseuse at the spa before I had officially gotten it.

  "Hello?" Erik said.

  My heart leapt with joy.

  "Erik!"

  "Kora, how you doing?"

  "Not so good," I said, with complete honesty.

  "Oh no, what's wrong?"

  "If I told you, you would hate me for putting the image in your head."

  "Oh dear!"

  "Suffice it to say I'm in no fit state to be around people right now," I said.

  "Doesn't sound like it."

  "If you could pass that along to David, in a way that would make him not want to fire me, I would be forever in your debt,” I told him.

  "Oh, don't be silly. I would settle for a batch of those infamous cookies of yours."

  "Deal," I said.

  That taken care of, I focused on getting where I was going without killing anyone on the way.

  The drug store was one of those big box deals. Large and impersonal. Exactly what I needed at the time. Nothing like a disinterested crowd when you wanted to be alone.

  I could hear the Muzak before the automatic doors even finished sliding open, Star Trek-style, before me. The assault on my ears was nothing compared to what was wafting over from the perfume counter. Fighting down another wave of nausea, I made for the the family planning section.

  The choice in pregnancy tests was far too large to be based on functional considerations so I decided to go by price, getting the cheapest no name brand I could find, hoping it wouldn't affect the accuracy of the reading.

  I really didn't see how it could, or else why would anyone buy them at all? But taking pregnancy tests was definitely a whole new world for me and I knew very little about it.

  Grabbing a few other things to try and make the situation a bit less embarrassing, like a teenage boy getting toilet paper and toothpaste along with his first ever box of condoms, I located the shortest checkout line and waited as patiently as I could, pretending to look at the magazine display until it was my turn. Then I hastily shoved everything onto the counter, looking down at it as if to say I wasn’t interested in conversation.

  "Have a great day!" the clerk said automatically once she was done ringing up my things, handing me my bag.

  The irony was not lost but I was too scared and tired to laugh.

  I pulled off my skirt almost as soon as I got home to get the pressure off, my oversized shirt hanging down like a dress. I decided to leave it.

  I really wanted a drink but decided not to until I knew for sure. My hands shaking, I took the pregnancy test into the bathroom.

  Then all I could do was wait.

  I literally paced as I waited for the little blue plus or minus to show up. Simple math symbols, the implications of which scared me more than anything I had experienced to that point.

  Finally, it was time to look, like it or not.

  The test was positive.

  I took in a breath and let it out like I once been shown by a guy really into meditation techniques. I was determined not to freak out. It would have been a lot easier if I'd been able to have some wine but that was something I was just going to have to learn to live without.

  I knew I was keeping the baby, no matter what. Something inside me wanted it emotionally, even though my head knew that was a rather foolish idea. I stroked my belly, imaging the potential life growing in there.

  I thought of Logan. I really wanted to know what was going on with that limo first. And who had been in it.

  I had to admit, I really had no idea who was in it, but his reaction left me with the distinct impression that it was nothing good. Even if it wasn't another woman, it could still be really bad. He could owe money to some bad people. The kind who had to drive around in cars with bullet-proof glass. Or at least bullet-proof looking glass.

  I had the sudden need to be sick again. I wondered if the six convolute bars had been a mistake. It had just been a craving I hadn't really noticed until it was all over and I saw the corpses of the wrappers strewn on the passenger seat.

  I flushed and tried to focus. To force myself back to reality, my imagination getting a bit away from me.

  When it came right down to it, I really didn't know much of anything about what was going on with Logan. And it really didn't matter. No matter what I thought of him— I still really didn't know— he had a right to know he was going to be a father. It was up to him what he did after that.

  Searching down my phone, I opened a new text and thought about what to say.

  Something funny?

  Something gentle?

  Something blunt getting right to the point?

  It would have been so much easier without out all the questions. All the uncertainty. I took a breath, trying to focus. The pain in my stomach didn't help. I got up from the couch and went to make some tea. It would be easier to think without stomach cramps.

  As the kettle boiled, I searched the closet for the herbal tea, not sure what caffeine might do to me and in no real hurry to find out. Locating the last, lonely bag, I put it in the mug I'd gotten for graduation with Penguins wearing mortarboard hats. Logan thought it was funny and I though that was cute. It was a compromise, but it worked.

  The kettle started to scream like a thing from the darkest pits of Hell and I half-filled the cup, dipping the bag like grandma had taught me. She really was the only one of my family I liked. Rather less traditional in some ways than my parents, breaking years of convention, saying it should be the opposite, she was more than happy for me to be my own person.

  She still taught me what she thought of as "womanly skills," a lot of which turned out to me more useful than I liked to admit, to the extent that I wondered why they were only secrets taught to women, when it seemed men could benefit from knowing them too. But she had also barely batted an eye when she caught me with a romance novel, which were strictly verboten as "lurid" by the rules of my parent's house.

  She had just smiled to herself and gone on her way and never told my parents. At least if the fact that I didn't get spanked was anything to go by. It was my mother who usually performed such punishment and I guess I should be grateful for that much, at least. My father was so strong that I might have been paralyzed if he had tried to spank me. Particularly when I was young. Like Paul Bunyan in a three-piece suit, my dad was.

  I sipped lightly at my tea, not wanting to overdo it, a
nd sat back down on the couch. I looked at the phone, trying to think of something, anything, to say. I wondered, just hypothetically, what I would do if Logan wanted to part of our baby's life.

  Would he want to help me raise it; maybe even live together?

  Would we be a happy little family?

  I smiled at the idea, forgetting, just for a moment, about that damn limo and everything else going on and that had gone on between us.

  Could I really let go of the bad feelings from the past?

  I really didn't know; maybe Logan really had changed, and I hadn't noticed. I thought back to Kristen's party and his incredibly thoughtful gift. A reminder of their past that seemed to make her very happy.

  And with me, he was gentle and sweet. I had never known him to settle down with any girl and here he was wanting to see me again all the time, which had surprised me.

  He did seem to be making an effort. I’d give him that much. So what exactly was my problem?

  Was I so scared of getting hurt again that I was pushing him away?

  Was my hate for what he had done to me in the past shadowing my love for him?

  Did I love him?

  Yes.

  Fuck!

  As much as I hated what he had done back in high school, I still loved him. I swore after leaving my parents’ house that I would never let anyone treat me like that again, but he hadn't, really.

  He seemed to be really into me. He could have just been playing with me, but I didn't think so. That really wasn't the sense I got. I had to try.

  I picked up the phone and opened a text box. Taking a deep breath, I typed, "I need to talk to you," figuring that would get his attention.

  It was now up to him to decide what he wanted to do.

  When I didn't get a response immediately, I sent another message, figuring the first one must have gotten deleted somehow, it not being the sort of information one usually just ignored.

  I wanted so much to give him the benefit of the doubt. Then I sent another one, sure he would say something, anything. Even if it was "fuck off" or, scarier still, "marry me."