Chapter Seven
Lauren
I LOOK AT my name on the clipboard, my handwriting nearly unreadable because I can’t stop shaking. I took the remaining tests this morning and all came back positive, of course. I called the OB/GYN office on my way to work and was able to get in for an ultrasound this afternoon. I wasn’t expecting visual confirmation that quickly, but since I wasn’t sure exactly how far along I could be the doctor ordered an early ultrasound. I was hoping I could live in denial for a little longer, though the million positive tests were making that hard to do.
The receptionist smiles at me and hands me a packet of papers to fill out. There are a slew of questions concerning this pregnancy. Checking “yes” or “no” is making it seem more and more real.
I’m close to a full panic attack.
I’ve told no one about the positive tests yet. Of course, I did more internet research online and found that a positive test doesn’t always mean there is a living baby inside of you.
I focus on answering each question, guessing on the date of my last period. I turn in the info, then wait. I had to leave work an hour early to make it here on time, and I knew it raised questions when I slipped out the door. I told my boss I had a doctor appointment and that was it. Still, I felt like I was walking out of the clinic with a big letter P on my face.
P for Pregnant with my brother’s best friend’s baby.
Oh. My. God.
I flip through a Parents magazine as I wait, just looking at the pictures. I’m too nervous to concentrate on words. Fifteen minutes go by and I relax just a bit. Then the door opens and a young woman in gray scrubs calls my name.
I stand, holding my purse for dear life, and move one foot in front of the other. I feel like I’m trekking to Mordor as I cross the waiting room, and my fate lies ahead of me. I want to tell myself I’m being dramatic, but I’m not.
“Hi, Lauren,” the ultrasound tech says. “How are you?”
“Nervous,” I admit. I follow her into the room and hop up on the table. She reviews my paperwork, gives me a minute to prepare, then comes back and starts the ultrasound.
“Try to relax,” she tells me and moves the transducer around. There is a TV screen mounted high on the wall in front of me. I hold my breath and will my stiff muscles to loosen. The screen is just a blur of black and white, and I have a slight idea of what I’m looking at from doing ultrasounds on pregnant animals at the clinic.
Then she stops moving the transducer and hits some buttons on the computer in front of her. There is a shrimp-shaped blob in the middle of a dark lopsided circle. Something flickers inside the blob. I know what it is before she says it.
The little blob is my baby and the flicker is the heart beating. Tears prick the corners of my eyes. I feel a connection to the little thing, and at the same time I’m panicking.
The tech types “HI MOM” onto the screen and takes a picture. It prints out. Then she turns up the volume and lets me listen to the heart beating away. I can’t think, can’t form a logical thought as she finishes the ultrasound, taking measurements and more pictures.
“All right,” she says and hands me three black-and-white images. “Baby is measuring eight weeks and two days, making your due date December third. Are you seeing the doctor after this?”
I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak. I have an appointment Monday with the doctor. I have days to agonize over everything. Again.
“Okay. I got all the images I need, so you’re good to go. Congrats!”
“Thanks,” I squeak out. I barely make it out to my car in time before I burst into tears. The ultrasound pictures and the little card with the date of my next appointment are clutched in my right hand. I’m so confused, so conflicted, and I don’t know what to do.
I don’t want to get rid of this baby by any means, but I don’t want to raise a child on my own. I can’t. I work full time, and I’m going to go back to school eventually. If not, I wouldn’t even be able to support a child on my income alone. I didn’t become a vet tech for the paycheck, that’s for sure.
I inhale and force myself to stop crying, carefully folding the ultrasound pictures and putting them in my purse. I wipe my eyes, back out of the parking space, and head home. Katie calls me when I pull onto my street. I don’t answer. I don’t want to tell her.
But I have to eventually. She’s bound to notice when I start getting a baby bump … and when I show up to family holidays with a crying kid in my arms. I can’t put it off forever.
I wait until I’m in my garage to call her back.
“Hey, lady,” she says, cheerful as ever. “Want to do something tonight? Wes got mandated at work and I’m bored and alone. Disney movies and booze at my place?”
“Katie,” I start, voice flat.
“Yeah?”
“Can you come over instead? I … I need to talk to you.”
“Way to sound ominous, sis. Don’t be so lame about staying out and leaving your dogs. They are dogs. They’ll be fine.”
“It’s not that,” I say and it takes all I have not to start sobbing again. “Please, Katie?”
“You’re freaking me out now, Lauren. What’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you when you get here, okay?” My voice is high pitched and trembling.
“Okay. I’ll be right over. Do you need anything?”
Oh lord, do I. “No, just to talk to you.”
“Okay.” She’s shaken up, I can tell. At least she won’t waste time getting here. I go inside and change out of my Tinkerbell scrubs, putting on PJs. Katie lives fifteen minutes away, and she walks through my door not even twenty minutes after we hung up.
“Lauren?” she calls from the small foyer. “Where are you?”
I’m in the kitchen, and I’m scared to go to her, to tell her the truth. Should I tell Noah before I tell my sister? This child is half of me and half of him. Does that make him entitled to know first?
“Lauren?” Katie calls again. “You’re freaking me out! Where are you?”
“In the kitchen,” I say. “Letting the dogs in.”
I open the back door and both dogs come in running, wildly greeting my sister. I meekly follow behind them.
“What the hell?” Katie asks when she sees me. My eyes are still red and puffy from crying. I hold my hand behind my back, keeping the ultrasound pictures out of sight. “What happened?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. I just need to come out and say it. Then my big sis can hug me and tell me that things are going to be all right.
“Sit down,” I say and look at the couch.
Katie steps out of her purple Toms and unzips her jacket. “Okay, tell me right now, because you’re seriously scaring me.”
“I’m scared,” I say, not meaning to put fuel on the fire. Tears fill my eyes and I take a few steps back and plop onto the couch. Katie rushes over.
“What is it, Lauren? Do you have cancer or something?” Her eyes mist over. It wasn’t that long ago that our mom had a cancer scare. We’re all sensitive to it.
“No, I don’t.”
“Then what the hell is wrong?”
Fat tears roll down my cheeks. “I messed up,” I start, choking up. “I … I … It was one night.”
“Lauren!” Katie puts her hand on mine. I close my eyes, feeling like I’m getting sucked backwards into a vortex of darkness. “Tell me what is wrong!”
I make myself open my eyes. “I’m pregnant,” I whisper.
“No, you’re not,” Katie says right away. “Because you have to have sex to get pregnant and you don’t have a boyfriend, and you don’t sleep around.”
“I know. But I did. Just once.” I carefully unfold the ultrasound pictures and hand them to her. I watch her face go from confusion to horror then back to confusion.
She leans back on the couch, looking straight ahead. “When—how? You … no. This is a joke, right?”
“I wish it was.” My eyes are filled with more tears, and I’m trembling. Katie turns to me, face as white as a ghost. Then she bursts out laughing.
“Sorry,” she says, covering her mouth. “Just you … Everyone thought I’d be the one to get knocked up before marriage. No one ever expected you to be the family slut!” She’s doubled over laughing.
“This isn’t funny, Katie! I’m not a slut. It was one night, one time, one mistake!”
The laughter dies in Katie’s throat. “Oh my God.” The seriousness has hit her. “This is from your drunken one-night stand none of us believed.”
My eyebrows push together. “Why is it so hard to believe that I—never mind. But yes. That’s when it happened because that’s the only time anything happened in a very long time.”
“What are you going to do? I assume you’ve considered all your options.”
“I’m keeping it. Once I saw the heart beating … I don’t know. I just know I have to keep it.”
“Okay, that’s good if it’s what you want. So you don’t know who the father is?”
My lack of response tells her everything.
“You have to tell me who, Lauren.”
I put my head in my hands. “No, I don’t. It’s bad, Katie. Really bad.”
“You’re already pregnant, Lauren. It can’t get much worse than this. Even if this guy turns out to be nothing more than a sperm donor, we can make him pay child support or something. Just tell me who you hooked up with and I’ll help, okay?”
“Okay.” I look up, meeting her eyes, feeling sick again. His name is on the tip of my tongue, yet I can’t make myself say it. I close my eyes and let out a breath. Fuck it. “Noah.”
Katie doesn’t say anything for a good thirty seconds. Then she blinks several times and pushes her eyebrows together. “Colin’s friend Noah?”
I put my head in my hands. “Yes,” I say, voice muffled.
“Are you sure it’s his?”
“Positive. Like you said, I don’t sleep around. He’s the only possible one.”
She holds up a hand. “I need a minute to process this.” Her eyes close. “So you got drunk, slept with Noah, and now you’re pregnant with his child.”
“It sounds worse when you say it out loud.”
“It sounds pretty bad in my head too. Does he know?”
I shake my head. “I thought about telling him, but I actually don’t know his number, or where he lives.”
“I’ll get the info for you.”
“Do I have to tell him? I mean, Noah … he’s not exactly father material.”
“He has the right to know. Colin is going to beat his ass. You know that, right?”
My stomach flip-flops. “I haven’t even thought about telling anyone else. Oh my god—Mom!”
“She’s going to beat your ass, once you push that baby out, that is.”
I take a sharp breath in but get no air. I take another, and another.
“Lauren, calm down!” Katie says. “Do not hyperventilate on me.”
“I … I … can’t.” My hands are trembling. I haven’t thought about pushing or labor or anything either. “I don’t know what to do,” I say and start crying. Katie’s arms go around me.
“It’s okay, Lauren. We’ll figure this out. I won’t say anything to anyone until you’re ready.”
I nod, unable to say anything while sobbing into her shoulder. She rubs my back for a minute then moves away. “Dry your eyes. Crying doesn’t solve anything, and I’m only allowing this because you’re probably hormonal and shit.”
“Probably,” I hiccup. “At least now I know why I’ve been so tired.” I wipe away tears, smearing mascara down my face. I don’t care. “What am I going to do, Katie?”
“Nothing I can say will make you feel better,” she replies slowly. “But we’ll figure this out, and you know I’m here.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. This is what sisters are for. That and it automatically gives me ‘best aunt’ status.”
Aunts. Babies. It’s all too much. “I wish I could drink right now.”
Katie laughs. “Hell, I think I need a drink. I can only imagine what you’re feeling.” She puts her arm around me. “For now, take a deep breath. I think no matter what, no matter who you’re with or where you are in life, expecting a baby causes everyone to freak out on some level.”
“I’m sure. So where do I go from here?”
Katie takes a breath. “You’ve already decided to keep the baby, so … in a perfect world, what happens next?”
I raise an eyebrow. “In a perfect world this wouldn’t have happened.”
“Well, it did,” she says pointedly. “But from here. What would happen next?”
I rub my eyes, feeling a headache coming on. “By some miracle, Noah and I would end up together. I want this child to have a mom and a dad. But that’s not—”
“Stop,” Katie says gently. “We’ve known Noah for a long time, but do you really know him?”
I start to move my head up and down then stop. “Not on a personal level. But I know him enough to know having a baby and getting married is the last thing he wants.”
Katie pushes her brunette hair back. It’s the same shade as mine, only she’s added blue and purple highlights. “Sometimes things like this change people. Remember my friend Erica?”
“The drunk? Yeah, what about her?”
“She got knocked up two years ago. She’s in nursing school now, and doesn’t party anymore. From the moment she peed on that stick and found out she was pregnant, she turned her life around. So it is possible. And you’ll never know if you don’t tell Noah and give him a chance. And if anything else, you will find out if you need to cross that hope off your list and move on. Plus figure out child support and custody and all that other legal shit I know nothing about.”
“Can I just call him? Or text. Texting is better.”
“Lauren,” Katie starts. “I know you prefer to not talk to or see people when you can help it, but this needs to be said in person. Call him, say you need to talk, and go somewhere private, like have him come back here. And if you want me to be there, I can be.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You just want to see how he reacts to this, don’t you?”
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t. But really, I want to support you. I don’t get to be the older sister that often, since you’re the responsible one. I mean, how many times in high school did you help me not get caught drinking, or sneaking out, or sneaking a boy in? You’re my sister, and I love you. And regardless of who the father is, that baby is my niece or nephew. We are family.”
“I love you,” I say and rest my head on her shoulder.
“Ditto, sis.” She gives me one more hug. “Let me do some digging and make some calls and I can get Noah’s number for you.”
“Do I have to tell him?”
She moves her head up and down. “If there is a chance he steps up, then yes.”
A chance. Hah, yeah the fuck right. I’ve known Noah for years, and have had a secret crush on him most of that time. I’ve watched him. I know the type of women he dates. I know he’s a regular heartbreaker. I’ve seen countless women fall for his charm, believe his lies, and think they can change him, that they can tame his wild heart and make him theirs.
And it never works.
So why would it work for me? I’m just Lauren, his best friend’s kid sister who just happened to get drunk and horny when he was stuck at my house waiting out the rain. I’m not the type of girl a man like Noah seeks out. Is having his baby enough to change him forever?
I lean back on the couch and look at the ultrasound photos again. Katie is right. It doesn’t matter who the father is. This is my child, my family.
“Got it,” Katie says.
“That was fast.”
She shrugs. “I might have a friend with a friend who’s hooked up with him.”
“Whatever. It is what it is.”
“Ready to call him?”
“I’m never going to be ready.”
She takes my phone and dials the number. Her finger hovers over the green call button. My heart skips a beat. She holds out the phone and presses “call.” I take the phone and put it to my ear.
Please get his voicemail. Please get his voicemail.
“Hello?”
Dammit.
“Uh, hi, Noah. It’s Lauren. Lauren Winters. Listen … we need to talk.”
*
Crap. Maybe Katie should have stayed, because I’m not prepared for how incredibly attractive Noah is when I answer the door half an hour later. It’s been over a month since we’ve seen each other, and the stubble on his face has grown into a beard, and damn, he looks good with it.
Fuck. Me.
Wait, no. Fucking me is what got us into this mess.
“Lauren,” he says, my name rolling off his tongue like silk. “Is everything okay?”
I stare into his blue eyes, heart racing so fast it might burst out of my chest and shatter into a million pieces onto the floor.
“In theory, yes.”
He raises an eyebrow. “That’s not convincing.”
I shuffle back, taking the dogs with me so Noah can get in and through the door. I just shake my head and go into the living room. The ultrasound pictures are on the coffee table, flipped upside down. I plop onto the couch. Vader jumps up next to me, standing and wagging his long tail as Noah draws near. He sits on the opposite side, laughing when the big dog licks his face.
“What’s going on?”
I inhale and wait until Vader settles down in Noah’s lap. The dog might weigh in at a little over a hundred pounds, but he thinks he’s a lap dog.
Just say it.
“Well, I, uh, I’m…” My cheeks start to flush and I want to throw up or cry. Probably both. I take a steadying breath, close my eyes, and try to mentally prepare myself. I open my eyes and look at Noah, taken aback by how worried he looks.
It’s a look I’ve rarely seen on him. A little line forms between his eyes and that cocky, panty-melting smile is gone from his attractive face.
“Lauren?”
Fuck. Now or never.
“I’m pregnant.”
He looks … relieved?
“Fuck,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
I wait for him to say something else, to have the news sink in and the panic hit. Vader jumps off the couch to get a toy. Noah scoots closer.
“I can see how that’s upsetting,” he starts, keeping his gaze locked with mine. “But, uh, why are you telling me?”
I blink once. Twice. Three times. “Seriously?”
“Yeah,” he says and confusion takes over his face. He really has no idea. He hasn’t put two and two together. “I don’t get what this has to do with me.”
It’s like I have no control over my body. My right hand comes up and swings, flat palm hitting him in the face. The slap stings, and causes Noah to jump back in surprise.
“What the fuck?”
“I’m pregnant and you are the father,” I saw slowly through gritted teeth.
If I thought Noah looked surprised before, I was mistaken. The color drains from his face. Then he shakes his head.
“No, I’m not.”
“We hooked up. And now I’m pregnant. You are the father.”
His eyes dart around the room. “But that was over a month ago.”
“Yeah, these things take some time.”
He runs a hand over his face. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Then he looks up at me. “Are you sure it’s mine?”
I raise my arm to slap him again but Noah catches my wrist. “Yes, I’m sure. There are no other possibilities. I’ve only been with you in the last six months.”
“You’ve had sex once in half a—never mind. Are you sure?”
My eyes fill with the tears I’ve been battling. “Positive.”
Noah slides his hand up my wrist and laces our fingers. The tears roll down my cheeks. He pulls me to him, wrapping me in a hug that I didn’t know I desperately needed.
“It’ll be okay,” he says. “I don’t have a fucking clue how, but it’ll be okay.”
I slide my arms around his muscular torso, inhaling slowly to calm myself. Noah smells intoxicating, like soap and cologne, mixing with the scent of leather from his motorcycle jacket. My heart pounds in my chest, pressed against his, and it’s beating just as hard.
His lips sweep against my neck, so soft I almost don’t feel it.
Almost.
I shiver, and fight against the warmth that tingles inside of me.
I lose.
“You’re pro-choice, right?” he starts.
“Do you want me to slap you again?” I ask, yanking my hands from his.
“But you are, right?”
“Yes, I am, and my choice is to keep this baby.”
Noah swallows and moves his head up and down. “Just making sure. Because I want you to keep it.”
“Oh,” I say, having expected a different response from him. Silence falls between us, broken by the loud squeaks of Vader chomping on a rubber ball. “What do you want to do?”
“I’ll do whatever you want,” he answers without skipping a beat.
“And why would you do that?”
He looks away. “No reason … well, no reason other than my child is growing inside of you. I … I want to try, Lauren. So, what do you want?”
I shake my head. “I don’t even know. Do you think you’ll, uh, be involved, help me raise the kid, be there during the birth … that sort of thing?” I quickly look into his eyes, afraid of what I’ll see. “I don’t know what else goes into this. I’m going off of movies I’ve seen.”
“Yeah,” he says. “I think so.” He rubs his forehead. “You’re sure it’s mine?”
I tip my head up, jaw trembling. “Yes. You can get a fucking DNA test if you want. But I promise you it’s yours. I haven’t had sex, or even gotten past first base, with anyone but you in a very long time.”
He nods, considering my words. “I want to be there for all of it. If it’s mine, I mean, since it’s mine, I want to do whatever I can.” He takes my hand again and turns to me, blue eyes clouding over. “My father was never there for me. I don’t want this kid to go through that.”
A tear escapes and rolls down my cheek. Noah catches it and brushes it away. He pulls me in and kisses my forehead, then puts one hand over my stomach.
“I want to be here for both of you.”
“I want you be here too,” I say softly, and it hits me just how much I want things to work out. But we only have nine months to figure this out, to see if we’re not only compatible with each other, but capable of loving each other enough to commit and raise our child together.
“Did you tell Colin yet?”
I shake my head. “Only Katie.” My voice quakes and I realize I’m trembling head to toe. “I have to tell my parents soon. Holy shit, they’re going to freak.”
Noah moves closer. His thigh presses against mine and he puts an arm around my shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Lauren.”
“Thanks,” I say. “It takes two, ya know. And neither one of us were thinking straight that night, so I don’t blame you entirely.”
“Not entirely? So partially?”
“Oh of course. You got me drunk then took me on that oh-so romantic motorcycle ride in the rain. I was pretty much a goner from the start.”
He laughs and the knot in my chest loosens. “I told you I’m irresistible.”
“Hardly.” I rest my head against his shoulder, blaming pregnancy hormones for finding him so fucking hot right now.
I reach out and grab the ultrasound picture. “That’s the baby,” I say, pointing to the little blob. “I’m eight weeks and got to see the heart beating today too.”
Noah takes the pictures from me, bringing it close to his face. His expression is neutral.
“Fuck,” he finally says.
“I agree,” I say with a sigh.
“We had sex six weeks ago, and you’re eight weeks along … Am I missing something?”
“You start out at two weeks. It’s confusing, I know. I’m eight weeks along but the baby is only six weeks old … if that makes sense.”
“It doesn’t.” He hands me the images. “This is ass backwards, but let me take you on a first date?”
My first inclination is to tell him no, that it’s not worth it. Because I don’t have faith in him, that I know better. Because a first date with Noah isn’t going to lead to a second. A first date isn’t going to change him, isn’t going to make him flip a switch and settle down…as much as I wish it could.
But I need to give him a chance—a chance to prove that he isn’t up for this, that he’s not going to stand by me and this child in any way other than helping pay for food and clothing. I need to witness it first hand, hell, maybe even get my heart broken so I can scratch this off forever and move on, raising this child the best that I can.
In the end, that’s all that matters.
And in order to do that, I need to let him take me on that first date.
“Deal,” I say.
“This Friday night?”
“I get off work at seven.”
“So I’ll pick you up at eight?”
“Eight thirty. Give me some time to get ready.”
Noah rests his hand on my thigh. “So this means I can fuck you again, right? It’s not like I can knock you up twice.”
I turn, raising an eyebrow. “It takes at least three dates and some good food to get into my pants.”
“I already proved that wrong. Don’t be a prude.”
I sigh. Yep. This first date is totally going to show me how much Noah isn’t ready to be a father.