We’re sitting at her kitchen table. I’m nursing my beer and she’s taking tiny sips of her chamomile tea. I finally ask the big question but this time I have to get an answer. “So why didn’t you call me?”
She casts her eyes down and folds her hands in her lap. “I was embarrassed and I’ve been building up the courage to call. All that stuff I said to you was so stupid.”
I nod. “I agree.” When I smile she play punches me in the shoulder.
“I was kind of crazy, wasn’t I?” Her eyes roll back and forth to emphasize her point.
“Not just kind of,” I answer, giving her my best, startled, wide-eyed look.
“How crazy?”
“Mmm, somewhere between wacked out and bat-shit.”
“Nice.”
“So did you get it out of your system? Are we okay now?”
“I think so. You know, it was really big of you to come by here and bring me flowers.”
“I’ve been worried about you. I wanted to make sure you were okay. Besides there’s a good game on this weekend and I was hoping to watch it with you. I love how you yell at the television.”
“So I can yell at the TV instead of you?”
“That’s the plan.”
Releasing a long sigh of relief, she rests her chin in her hand. She looks deep in thought and her expression gets somber again.
“I’m a mess,” she says softly. “I’m still stunned by all of this. My marriage ending was nothing compared to the shock of this unexpected pregnancy.”
She’s never talked much about her marriage and it makes me curious. “How long were you married?”
“Eleven years.”
My eyes grow wide. “Wow.”
“I know . . . and by the end I was so unhappy that I was relieved it was over.”
I scratch the back of my neck. “That’s a long time to be married if you were unhappy.”
“Oh, it wasn’t always that way. When I met Daniel I was young and naïve, while he was self-assured and commanding. His protective demeanor made me feel safe. I never had that growing up, and I craved it desperately, so in the early days I was really happy as we started to build our life together.”
“What happened to change things?”
She stares out the window for a moment and then her focus shifts back to me. “The best way to describe it is that I gradually grew into myself. I became more confident and independent, and he didn’t like it. Eventually he started to try to control me by undermining my confidence, and once he realized he couldn’t lord over me anymore, he belittled and shunned me.”
I can feel my blood pressure rise as my temples pulse. “What an ass.”
She nods. “So I left our marriage feeling angry and with a fierce determination that I could take care of myself. Unfortunately, I also left with my faith in relationships destroyed. Looking back, I think Tinder appealed to me because I felt in control and could ask for and get what I wanted from men with no complications.” She lets out a bitter laugh.
“What?” I ask.
She waves her hand over her belly. “Could anything be more complicated than this? Obviously I’m still naïve, and now I’m floundering.”
“I know this has been a rough time, Elle. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
“It’s just that I’m so overwhelmed. The universe dealt me an unexpected hand that’s changed my entire life. Every single day from now on is different than what I’d planned.
I nod. “That would freak anyone out, believe me.”
“Freak out or not, I’ve got a little life to look after, and the only thing that I know for sure is that this baby deserves more than me—more than knowing their life is the result of contraception failure and a dad who couldn’t give a shit about them.”
Reaching over the counter, I take her hand and squeeze it. She doesn’t let go of me but instead holds on and winds our fingers together.
“You aren’t giving yourself any credit. You make it sound like you’re unfit to be a mother.”
“Aren’t I? I think I’m horribly unfit.”
“Hell no. To start with, you aren’t a crack whore . . . so major points for that.” I give her a big thumbs-up with my free hand.
“You always say the sweetest things.”
“I know, I have such a way with words. But seriously . . . you’re an amazing woman. So smart and spirited . . . you’ve got such a big heart. This baby is so damn lucky.”
“How can you say the baby’s lucky?”
“Because you care so much. You’re making changes in your life so this kid will have the best chance. I admire your courage and determination.”
“Oh, I’m not that brave.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Paul, you don’t know what I’m like inside. I lie in bed and I worry about everything. How will I know what’s the best thing to do?”
“Best thing? Like what?” I ask.
“Like I was reading that it would be beneficial for the baby to sleep with me—that it soothes them.”
“Sleep in the same bed? Aren’t babies supposed to sleep in cribs? I mean that sounds dangerous. I, for one, flop around like a beached walrus. What if you roll over on them in your sleep?”
“Exactly! And I’ve never changed a diaper, let alone bought one. Hopefully there’s a YouTube video about how to do that stuff. As for baby food . . . it’s a mystery to me. I checked it out at the grocery store and it looks like space food. Then I can’t even, with the car seats . . . I’m realizing that figuring them out requires a degree in engineering. And I overheard two women talking last week about how getting into pre-school is harder than college for God’s sake. Then there’s the books!
“What about books?” I ask.
“Well, what do I read to the baby that won’t terrorize them? I had bad dreams for years over Hansel and Gretel. Cannibalism isn’t cool, you know?”
She’s starting to make me nervous. Her eyes grow wide as she remembers something else.
“Did you know that some kids get seizures from playing certain video games? My God! How will I know what to do?”
“Isn’t it like anything in life? You learn one thing at a time. What about talking to other moms. Do you know any?”
“Well, none of my friends have kids yet. We’re all career women.”
“Then we’ll go find you some mom friends.”
She gives me a lopsided grin. “We will? And where do we find these mom friends?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. In the park or something. I always see a lot of them in the park huddled together . . . or how about online! Isn’t there like a Tinder for moms or something?”
She almost spits up her tea and I have to pat her back to calm her down.
“Mom hook-ups?” she sputters.
“Yeah!” Damn, I have good ideas.
“You’re a gem, Paul.”
I suspect she thinks my ideas on this subject are ridiculous, but she appreciates the effort.
“I know. How about Sunday before the game we go to one of those baby stores? I bet the people that work there know a lot.”
She blinks rapidly, but thankfully I don’t see any tears. “You’d do that?”
“Sure as long as you don’t jump out of the car and yell at me.”
“Deal.”
That night as I lie in bed, I remember the charge I felt just seeing her again, and I’m pretty sure she was feeling the same. She looked stressed out and depressed when I saw her from a distance in the yard, and once we’d talked things out and got past that stupid argument, her real smile returned.
It feels like there’s some of Elle now in every part of me . . . she’s on the edge of every thought . . . her laugh, the teasing look in her eyes, and the way she curls into me whenever we’re on the couch together. Tonight she laid her head on my chest as we watched some show. It could have been anything on TV, but all I cared about was that I was there with her and how weirdly perfect that felt.
Now that she’s pregnant I know I shouldn’t be thinking of sex with her, but I do . . . all the time. She’s always turned me on but now it’s different. There’s something primitive about it, like I’m a freaking tiger desperate to mate her. Is this some crazy male hormone thing? I should Google that shit.
Everything that I’m attracted to in a woman is accentuated now, her curves and full breasts make me wild. Then her vulnerability, which belies her fierce inner strength, makes me protective of her. I don’t want to just claim her as mine, but I want the baby to be mine, too. I feel attached to that kid already. Is that wrong?