She bites her lip but nods. “Yes.”
I run my hands down her arms. “I want you to know that I’m here for you, whatever decision you make. Just promise me you won’t sell yourself short. I meant what I said. You’ll be an incredible mom.”
She brushes new tears away and steps up close so I can wrap my arms around her. “Paul, what would I do without you? Your kindness means so much to me. You’re such a good friend.”
And I’ll never be more than that now . . .
My chest hurts as that raw truth hits me.
“Good men make good friends,” I say with a hug. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I hold it together as I take several steps down her walkway and turn to wave good- bye. But I clench my fists all the way to the car and my jaw is locked as I pull my door shut. In the silence of my car I finally let out my frustration.
“Damn it all,” I yell as I slam my forehead against the steering wheel. “Why? Why?”
I want to punch my fist through the windshield and then track down the Viking and beat the crap out of him for having a timeshare in Maui when he hates sand. It’s all his fault that I no longer have a chance with Elle.
I feel a stinging in my eyes and I flip down my visor mirror. What the hell? Are those tears glazing my eyes? I never cry. I point at my reflection. “Don’t you dare cry, asshole. Don’t you dare!” I slam the visor back up.
As I fire up my engine my mind goes dark places. How tragically ironic that the night we learn that Elle has a new life growing inside of her is the same night my hope, for the life I finally realized I want, has died.
Chapter Nine
THE HERO
The next two days at work are living hell. I’m worried about Elle, and not sure what I can do to help her. She texts me to let me know she’s meeting with the Viking after work on Tuesday. She promises to text me whether he took the news better than she’d hoped, or worse.
Stephan isn’t the only thing I’m concerned about in regards to Elle. I’m worried she isn’t taking good care of herself and my internet research has shown that her health habits in this first trimester are key. At lunch I go to the pharmacy in the building across from our office and get a recommendation from the pharmacist for pre-natal vitamins. As I pay for the purchase it occurs to me that she may have trouble keeping them down. I hope she does better with them than she did with her Double-Double.
By early evening Tuesday I find myself lingering behind at work and doodling at my drafting table while I try to imagine how I would take the news if it were my baby, and not the Viking’s. I know I’d be a better dad than him. As soon as the kid was old enough I’d start taking him to the park so we could play in the sand box barefoot together. Hell, I’d buy a sandbox for our house, and I sure as hell wouldn’t be caught dead in those pussy water shoes.
Our kid would know sand, and messy hand paintings and food all over their little face. We’d pitch tents in the living room, and there’d be Lego pieces under every piece of furniture or tucked into every cushion crevice. I’d smile at every sticky fingerprint because I’d know that they were like footprints in the road proving I was on the right path with my life.
I pick up my phone and check it again. Nothing. By 7:30 I can’t take it any longer and I text her.
You okay?
She responds almost immediately.
No.
Is he still there?
No.
I’m on my way.
I curse him the entire drive over. Motherfucker. How could he leave her alone after the news she just shared? My hate for him hits new levels. I plot revenge the entire ride over so that I hardly notice the drive. When I arrive the front door is cracked open and I find Elle in the living room sitting in the corner of the couch.
She looks terrified, like a little girl accidently left behind at the bus depot.
I hate seeing her like this and I’m so amped up I can’t sit down. “What happened?”
She curls forward and rubs her fingers over her scalp nervously. “Well, to start with he said it wasn’t his.”
Motherfucker did not!
“Classy. Did he forget that you were in paradise together when it happened?” “According to him that doesn’t mean for sure it’s his.”
I grit my teeth so hard my jaw hurts. “So what’s he saying, that you got it on with the cabana boy in Maui?”
“I have no idea what he’s thinking. He insists it wasn’t him, and he also disputes that there was a problem with his condom.”
“That’s big of him. I think all of those cleaning products have gone to his head.
But what can you expect from a man who is afraid of sand?”
“You know, I didn’t expect for a second that he’d be happy about the news, but I didn’t think he’d stoop so low as to say it couldn’t possibly be his.”
“He’s a dirty scumbag. Don’t let all those bottles of sanitizer fool you.”
“I told him that I’m more than willing to do a paternity test if he needs reassurance, but I’m sure it’s his.”
“So what plan did you guys make?”
“Well he left without any kind of plan. As a matter of fact, he said not to contact him and that his lawyer would make sure that he was not responsible for any child support.”
“Are you serious? What kind of man would do this?” I ask as I feel the fury work its way up my neck.
She looks up at me with the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen. “Not a good man.”
Pressing her hands over her face, she starts to cry. I sit down on the couch and slide my arm over her shoulder so she can lean into me. “I’m so sorry, Elle.”
She silently nods as the tears stream down her face. We sit like that for a few minutes and then she clears her throat. “What am I going to do?”
“Just take things one step at a time, that’s what my dad always says. Hey, how about a walk? It’ll be good for you.” I want to say it’ll be good for the baby, too, but I stop myself.
We’re silent and walk almost to the corner before she turns to me. “This was a good idea. I needed to get out of the house.”
“Me too. When we get back let’s burn some candles to get the Viking stink out of your home.”
The corners of her mouth turn up the tiniest bit. “Good idea.”
Two kids wiz by us on their bikes and I watch them until they turn the corner. I’ve always liked this neighborhood but now I’m seeing it in a new perspective. It’s a family kind of place. “This seems like a great area to raise a kid in.”
“It is. That’s part of what drew me to living here. I know I don’t come off as the most maternal person because of my upbringing, but do you know when I was little I was fixated on being a mom? I had a baby dolly that I treated like a real baby. I had a little stroller for it and everything. I loved taking care of it.”
It makes my chest hurt to know she had a dream and life sucked the beauty out of it. “I bet you were a cute kid.”
She smiles. “I’ll have to show you pictures some time.”
“I’d like that. So you make it sound like your attitude about being a mom changed over the years.”
Her expression falls. “I blame a lot of that on my mom. She was always telling me how much work I was, how she couldn’t get a good job or make decent money to support us because she had no help raising me.”
“Where was your dad?”
“Apparently off drinking somewhere. There was a point where her schedule changed at the restaurant she worked at, so she had no choice after school but to drop me off at one of those youth center places with strange people lurking around. I’d have a paper bag with a sandwich and juice box for my dinner. I was only in the second grade.
“Luckily the director of the center took a liking to me and she took me under her wing. She gave me little jobs and taught me how to be strong and self-reliant. It was probably around that time, where I was spending time around kids that were neglected, that made me realize maybe I wasn’t meant to be a mother. If my mom couldn’t handle it, why would I think I could?”