Good On Paper

by Jennifer Millikin

  “You didn't. Going back to my maiden name makes sense. I want to do it. I guess I'm still little shocked that my marriage failed. Not that I miss Henry,” I hurry to say. “When I'm eighty-five, and I look back over my life, my first marriage will be part of what I think of. If our lives are like a beautiful tapestry, and mine is still on the loom, then that part of my life has already been woven in. Does that make sense?”

  “I understand your words, but I don't relate to them at all. As you obviously know, I've never been married. Which means I've never been divorced. What I do know, is that every single person has a tapestry. And every tapestry looks different. Some tapestries will have four or even five marriages. Some will only have one, or none. Who's to say which one is better? Who's to say that either one of them is bad?”

  I pull back so I can look at him. “You're very wise.”I run my fingertips over his face, inspecting.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Looking for wrinkles. Somebody so wise should have more wrinkles.”

  Without warning Aidan dips me back, and we tumble together on the couch. “I’m forever young,” he says, his fingertips brushing over my stomach. I laugh and twist, trying to escape his tickling fingers.

  “There's no way I'm letting you go.” His teeth nip my collarbone, his hand drifts lower.

  This is the kind of Sunday I could get used to.

  17

  Aidan

  For someone who’s never considered himself a romantic guy, I'm not doing too bad of a job.

  “Thank you for lunch,” Natalie says, leaning into me. She plants a kiss on my cheek before bending over and lacing up her ice skate.

  “Of course,” I tell her, lacing up my own ice skates. When I'm finished, I straighten up and lean back on the bench, surveying all the happy ice skaters on the rink in front of us. It's picturesque. The rink in Central Park, the barren trees with the buildings towering all around them.

  Natalie pops up from the bench. I can already tell her balance is better than mine.

  “When was the last time you've done this?”

  “Last winter, with the girls from work. They were trying to cheer me up. When was the last time you’ve been?”

  “Not since I was a kid.” I push off from the bench, wobble, and grab onto the side of the rink. Natalie giggles.

  “You have to promise not to laugh if I fall.”

  She shakes her head. “I will make no such promises.”

  I scowl and she laughs again. She holds out a hand. “I promise to stay beside you and hold your hand. If you go down, I'll go down with you.”

  I place my hand in hers. “Deal.”

  We step out onto the ice, and after a few minutes, I realize it's not that bad. There're other things I'd rather be doing, but this isn't the worst thing in the world. We stay on the outside of the crowd so that I can grab the wall when I feel unsteady. Natalie seems content to skate slowly beside me. In the center of the crowd are the real ice skaters. They twirl and do small jumps. Though there are no tracks in the ice, everyone seems to skate inside an invisible lane. We go around another time, and this is when it happens. I fall on my ass. And though she told me she would, Natalie does not fall with me.

  The cold immediately seeps through my jeans. Natalie covers her mouth with one hand and reaches down to help me with the other. Getting up from the ice might be even harder than staying upright on it. Once I can stand, I make my way to the outer edge of the rink and lean on it. Natalie glides over, dragging her skate sideways to slow her advance.

  “Why don't you go around a few times without me? Let me see your skills."

  She grins, her cheeks flushed from the cold. “Okay,” she says, pushing off and finding her place in the crowd of people passing by. I watch her go around, entranced by her easy grace. It reminds me of being in high school and college and watching her on the dance team. I wonder if she ever misses it. Judging by the look on her face, I think the answer is yes. When she passes me a third time, I point to the benches on the outside of the rink.

  Without Natalie, getting there is much more difficult. To avoid falling, I cling to the wall and slowly make my way to the exit. I don't feel so bad about my less than stellar exit; there are at least seven more males doing the exact same thing. I meet eyes with one of them and we laugh at ourselves. I sit back down and wait for Natalie. My pocket buzzes and I reach for my phone.

  Allison?

  I open my phone and read her message. I need to talk to you.

  Closing my phone, I slip it back into my pocket. Allison is a nice person, and I wish her nothing but the best, but we do not need to talk.

  Natalie comes off the ice, beaming. The flush on her cheeks is rosier than before.

  “That was fun.” She comes to sit beside me.

  “I’m glad you liked it. I'm ready for some spiced wine. How about you?”

  Natalie nods. “Yes, please. I need to thaw out.”

  This gives me an idea. “How does a hot shower sound?”

  Natalie turns to look at me. Her eyes are hooded, hungry. “That sounds delightful.” Her face falls. “But we don't have anywhere to go. Savannah will be back soon, and we definitely can’t go to your place.”

  I think for a moment, then pull my phone from my pocket. There is a second message from Allison, but I ignore it. Instead, I text Rob and Jasper and ask them to meet me for a beer. Rob says he’s running an errand but can be there in thirty minutes. Jasper says he’ll head out and be there in fifteen.

  “Change back into your shoes,” I instruct, changing out of my ice skates with warp speed. Natalie listens, talking as she goes. “What's going on?”

  Slipping my feet in my shoes, I stand and offer Natalie a hand. “I have no idea what my apartment looks like right now. It's probably disgusting. But, it's available.”

  Natalie jams her feet into her boots and stands up. We dump our ice skates on the return counter and hurry through the park. We dodge people, laughing, and on the way to my apartment we pass the bar I have no intention of going into.

  It isn’t until later that night, long after Rob and Jasper have given me shit for not showing up, that I remember Allison’s second text.

  I grab my phone, and the first thing I see is Natalie's face. The picture of her that I used for her dating profile is now my wallpaper. I'm officially one of those guys. My girlfriend is my phone's wallpaper.

  We haven't talked about it yet, but we're unofficially boyfriend and girlfriend. She knows it, I know it, we just haven't said it out loud yet.

  I navigate to my text and tap on Allison's name. Our conversation appears, and I read her last message. I know we weren't serious, but please don't ignore me.

  I don't want to deal with this right now. I want to fall asleep reliving my day with Natalie.

  So that's what I do. It's so much easier to turn away from a problem than to face it.

  Three days later, I find there is no running from my problem. My problem has come to find me. I see her as soon as I walk out of school. She is across the street leaning on a brick wall. Snow has just started to fall, but it's not the nice kind. It's wet and mushy. Obviously I can't avoid Allison now, so I cross the street and walk up to her, coming to a stop a couple feet away.

  Allison stands up straight so she's no longer leaning on the wall. She glances at the school behind me, then her eyes meet mine. Her fingers tap out a rhythm on her arm, and she bites the side of her lower lip.

  “Allison?” I say her name, hoping it will prompt her to speak.

  “I’m sorry that I came to your work. I could've gone to your apartment, but didn't want to deal with your roommates. You weren't answering my texts, and I didn't know what else to do.”

  Even though she's wearing a big coat, Allison shivers. I realize she's not wearing a hat, so I pull mine off my head and offer it to her. She declines with a shake of her head.

  “Can we go somewhere to talk?” she asks, craning her head to look down the street. “There, ma
ybe?” She points at a bakery on the corner.

  “Sure.” If it weren't for this weather, I'd walk her around the corner from the school and ask her to say whatever it is she's come to say.

  We walk beside each other in complete silence. Allison was a nice person, and we had a good time together. From the beginning she knew we didn't have a future. So why is she here now? Did she see me out with Natalie? Does she think it means I changed my mind on relationships?

  We settle at a table inside the bakery, and I order two coffees. I sip from mine, but Allison doesn't touch hers. She starts to take off her coat, then changes her mind and keeps it on.

  “What do you want to talk about, Allison?” If she won't start the conversation, I will.

  She stares at me, her eyes growing shiny. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you.”

  Maybe I should have wrapped it up in a more official way. I thought being casual meant I didn't have any ties, but clearly Allison needed more than my short phone call.

  “I’m sorry, Allison. I should've answered your call.”

  “Thank you,” she says, accepting my apology. “Did you mean what you said? That we are finished?”

  My jaw clenches. This is painful. And a little frustrating. From the beginning, I made it clear to Allison that I was not looking for a relationship.

  “Yes.” Does she need to be reminded that her last words to me included telling me to fuck off?

  Allison nods. “I see.”

  I pull my jacket off my lap and start to stand. “Well, if that's all, I better get going.”

  Allison’s hand shoots out across the table. “I’m pregnant.”

  What.

  The.

  Fuck.

  I drop back down in my seat. Everything inside me feels heavy and hollow at the same time. How can this even be? We used condoms. And I was careful. So careful.

  Natalie.

  Oh my god. How am I going to tell her? My hands drag through my hair, and I have to control the urge to pull tightly. I want to punish myself for this colossal mistake. This cannot be. This just cannot be.

  Across the table, Allison watches me absorb the news. “I’m eight weeks along,” she says, and this one sentence makes everything even more real. I don't say anything, because I don't trust myself just yet. When I open my mouth, I want to say the right thing, only I don't know what the right thing is.

  Allison keeps talking. “It was our last time together. I know what you're thinking, and no, I didn't trap you. This was a surprise to me too.”

  “That's not what I was thinking.” There. My silence is finally broken.

  “I'm going to keep it.” Allison lifts the cup of coffee to her lips, then sets it back down. “No caffeine,” she says quietly as if she's reminding herself.

  “Okay.”

  “You can be as involved as you want."

  “Okay.”

  “First doctor's appointment is in two days. Do you want to come to it?”

  “Okay.”

  Allison blows out a hard breath. “Do you have anything else to say besides okay?”

  Sure I do. But it involves a lot of expletives and screaming, maybe even punching things, and she doesn't need to see or hear any of that. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I squeeze my eyes tight and murmur, “How am I going to tell Natalie?”

  “Natalie?” Allison's eyes are wide, her face shocked. “Natalie, as in your best friend? Why do you care so much about her reaction?” Light dawns in Allison's eyes even as she speaks. She crosses her arms and looks out the window, her eyes teary.

  “This isn't how I saw this going,” Allison says.

  “How did you see this going?”

  Allison looks back to me. Two tears have managed to escape her eyes and are rolling down her cheeks.

  “We got along well, you know? We smiled, and we laughed, even if we really only met for sex. We had chemistry.” She laughs once, a vacant sound. “I had this fantasy where you were happy to hear the news. You were shocked, but you got over it. You wanted to start a relationship with me. We went to doctor’s appointments, and my stomach grew bigger.” She reaches down and rubs a circle over her midsection. “When you first mentioned Natalie, I thought it was weird you had a girl as your best friend. But after a while, I grew comfortable with that because it didn't seem like there was anything there. And then we saw her on the street that night. I should have known when you said you weren’t feeling well after we saw her.” She shakes her head. “I should've known.”

  “When is your appointment?” I want to steer her away from the topic of Natalie.

  “Wednesday. Four o'clock.”

  “Are you sure? That I’m the father?”

  Allison’s eyes fill with outrage. “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” she hisses, her eyes flashing and her top lip curling. She stands, and for a moment I wonder if she'll toss her full cup of coffee in my face. I flinch, preparing for it, but she steps away from the table.

  “See you Wednesday, Aidan. I’ll text you the address. And in the meantime, fuck off.” She stalks away, the tinkling bell above the door signaling her exit.

  “Fuck,” I mutter, finishing the last of my coffee and tossing it into the trash. I toss her coffee in the trash too, then put on my coat and walk out the door. I stop when I get outside, looking up at the gray sky. It continues to drop globs of wet snow, and if I wasn't so close to my work, I'd lift my hand and give the darkened sky the bird.

  There is only one place I can go now, even though everything inside of me is telling me to turn around and go in the opposite direction. Pulling out my phone, I send Natalie a text. We were supposed to meet for dinner, but I've asked her to meet me at her apartment instead. Natalie won't be off work until five, and by the time I make it to her apartment, it's only four thirty. I pass her building, go over one block, and settle at the bar of an Irish pub. If there were ever a time when a man deserves a shot of whiskey, it's right now.

  18

  Natalie

  “Why do you look so happy?” Savannah stands at the entrance to my cubicle, her forearm resting on the top of the short wall. In her other hand, she holds a cup of chamomile tea.

  “No reason,” I lie, thinking of Aidan's most recent text message. I wonder why he wants to meet me at my apartment before dinner. Probably a quickie. I try not to smile under the scrutinizing glare of Savannah. Maybe right now her own phone is lighting up with a text message from Aidan, and he’s pulling a fast one on her like he did to his roommates yesterday. Even though we almost got caught, it was worth it. Rob and Jasper came back before I could get out of there, bitching and moaning through Aidan’s door about how he stood them up. We waited for the TV to turn on, and while their backs were turned, I crept like a burglar behind them. When my hand was on the doorknob, Rob noticed me. “Best, when did you get here?” he’d asked me. I turned around, glanced at Aidan, and said, “Just now.” Then I stayed for another hour.

  Savannah sips her tea, her gaze going below my desk.

  “I don't have it,” I tell her. I know she's looking for my gym bag.

  She pouts. “I’m torturing myself alone tonight?”

  “Afraid so.”

  “What are you doing instead?”

  “Don't you have work to do?” I ask.

  “You're seeing a guy, aren't you? Is he from your dating app?”

  I hold up my hands. “Guilty as charged.”

  “People from those apps can be dangerous. Where are you meeting him? Someone else should always know where you're supposed to be.”

  “I’m waiting for him to tell me what restaurant we're going to.”

  She points a finger at me. “And then you'll tell me.”

  I cross my heart, and she laughs. Savannah returns to her cubicle, and I glance at the time on my phone. Twenty-four more minutes before I get out of here and haul ass back to my apartment. I can't wait to see Aidan.

  When I arrive home, I find Aidan sitting on the ground outside my a
partment door. His knees are pulled into his chest, and his arms rest on his knees. His gaze stays on the ground, even though I know he can hear me approaching.

  “Aidan?” I step closer until I know he can see the toes of my shoes.

  He looks up. In his eyes I see something I've been half expecting. Fear. I knew this would happen sooner or later. Aidan has been one way his whole life, but that doesn't mean his recent change of heart doesn't have strings, pulling him back into his prior belief. I'm a little jarred, but since I've been expecting this, it's easier to stay calm.

  “Come inside.” I reach out a hand to help him up. Aidan shoulders most of his own weight as he stands, but feeling the warmth of his hand in mine brings me comfort. Unfortunately, I have to let it go so that I can let us into my apartment. I take my keys from my bag, then reach around him and unlock the door. He follows me in and watches me put down my things and kick off my shoes. I hang my coat on the coat rack and motion for him to do the same. He shakes his head slightly, and this is what makes the calm in me disappear. He is not planning to stay.

  “Aidan, what's going on?”

  He opens his mouth and closes it as if he can't quite form the words. The longer he stands there, rooted in place only a few feet inside the door, the faster my heart beats. Even though I've just come in from the frigid outside, even though I've taken off my coat and I'm down to just my silk blouse and slacks, my underarms begin to feel clammy.

  “Just say it,” I snap, losing my patience. I can't handle the look on his face. Even knowing that whatever he is going to say will hurt me, I can't bear to see him in pain.

  “Allison,” he finally croaks, his head shaking in tiny, rapid pulses, as if he is trying to expel whatever it is that’s inside there.

  My eyes narrow. “What about her?”