Chapter Five
EMILY
Denial was swirling around with guilt and anxiety as I rode in the backseat of the taxi. After admitting how jumbled my thoughts were, I decided it would be too much of a distraction for me to drive. I’d spent the entire night going over every mistake I’d already made in my pregnancy, starting with not knowing the father of my child.
I’d also recalled four instances when I’d consumed alcohol, but at least there were no shitfaced drunk experiences. Although I hadn’t done any competitive tournaments in years, I knew I had done a lot of tumbling, and made a mental note to ask the doctor if that was acceptable.
None of my friends had ever had children, so I didn’t know much about pregnancy, but from television and movies, I knew I should be taking prenatal vitamins. I wondered how much of a disadvantage I’d already given the baby with all of my mistakes.
Leaning back, I tried my best to relax my mind as I rode in silence to the doctor’s office. After accepting that the flu was definitely not my ailment, I scheduled an appointment with my OBGYN. Nerves rushed over me as the driver approached the doctor’s office. Although I already knew it in my heart, the results were about to get very concrete.
“You were right. You’re definitely pregnant,” Dr. Lindsey Stevens said with a smile as she scooted her stool towards me.
I was sitting on the exam table as she read from her clipboard. I could feel the blood leaving my body, as I forced a deep breath in an attempt to hold nausea at bay.
“Are you okay?” She asked in her motherly concerned tone. Dr. Lindsey had been my doctor since I was in high school. She knew both of my parents, and I’m sure she felt sympathetic knowing I would be going through this without them.
“I don’t know,” I sighed before leaning back on the table, placing my hand over my mouth. I felt a cry crawling up my throat, begging me to just crumble.
It was all too overwhelming. There was now no part of denial left in me; I was pregnant. This was happening, and the reality of it hit me like a ton of bricks.
“You know there are options, Emily. You don’t seem too thrilled about this, but you’re not stuck in a corner.” She sympathized while placing her hand on my knee.
“It’s not really about the pregnancy,” I admitted while sitting up. “It’s just how it all came about. I don’t even know the father,” I placed my hand over my eyes as shame washed over me.
“I didn’t even know you were sexually active. If you have several partners, you can always have a DNA test done before or after the birth,” she assured me.
“No, I know who the father would be. I’ve only had sex with one person, but I don’t have a way to contact him,” I simplified the problem, deciding not to share the ridiculously complex web of unbelievable circumstances I’d found myself in.
“I see,” she paused. “Well I know plenty of women who have gone through pregnancies all alone and gone on to raise healthy babies,” she continued before pushing off from the floor, forcing the wheels on the stool to lead her back to the counter at the edge of the office. After grabbing a pamphlet from a clear plastic holder attached to the wall, she rolled back to the exam table.
“He deserves to know,” my voice was barely a whisper as I wondered how I could possibly locate my mystery man from 6-weeks ago.
“There are several support groups in the area where you can meet other single mothers. Whatever you choose, you’re not alone in this,” she gently rubbed my knee as she looked deeply into my eyes.
I didn’t realize I was crying until Dr. Lindsey handed me a tissue. Wiping my face, I lowered my head into my hands. I’d stopped hearing her after she mentioned the phrase, ‘single mother,' the words seemed too harsh for me to process. Never in a million years did I imagine I’d be pregnant before I was married, but the realization that my child’s father wouldn’t play a role at all was a bit heartbreaking.
It took me several minutes to regain my composure while Dr. Lindsey continued to inform me of my options. When I finally left her office I had four pamphlets in total – one for single mom support groups, another with a list of do’s and don’ts during pregnancy, an informative brochure about the ‘beauties of adoption,' and lastly a thin yellow pamphlet detailing the procedures involved with an abortion.
I don’t even remember leaving the office or the elevator ride to the lobby. I just remember the ride home, because the sky opened up and cried with me as the city passed by from the taxi window. I cried for myself, and the unknown that was ahead of me. I cried for my unborn child and the disadvantages my irresponsible behavior had already dealt him or her. And I cried for my fairytale future because it was all washed away.
The two words replayed over and over in my mind, ‘single mother,' my new reality.
****
It had been three weeks since the doctor confirmed my baby news, and even though I’d yet to develop a baby bump, it was all very real for me. Gone was the denial, but I still found myself a bit sad by the loneliness of it all.
Mariah was constantly trying to cheer me up, promising to be with me every step of the way, as if that was what I wanted. I loved Mariah and was grateful to have such a supportive and encouraging best friend, but she couldn’t be a father to my child.
After reading every pregnancy book I could get my hands on, I decided to focus on being positive and as happy as possible, once I learned that my energy could be transferred to the baby. I didn’t want to pass on anxiety or fear, so instead, I put less attention into what I didn’t have and celebrated all that was working in my favor.
Although I had yet to have an ultrasound, Dr. Lindsey had run some tests, which confirmed that the baby was healthy. I was still able to work, although she suggested I refrain from some of the more straining exercises. While I hadn’t been very responsible in my private life, my professional life was very well taken care of. There was no insecurity or pressure regarding the financial responsibilities of having a child, and that I considered being a major win.
Mariah had decided to come over to cheer me up since it was Saturday night, and I wouldn’t be hitting the town to party and drink as we had in the past. I’d just put the lasagna in the oven when the doorbell rang. Luckily, my nausea had passed, so now I was happy to cook all of my favorites in my spare time.
“Best Friend!” I grinned as I opened the door. Mariah held a champagne bottle up, and I frowned in confusion. Sure she didn’t know much about pregnancy, as I hadn’t a few weeks prior, but everyone knew you couldn’t drink alcohol while pregnant.
“It’s sparkling grape juice!” She explained before hugging me and leading the way into the living room.
We were relaxing on the sofa as Mariah filled me in on the details at her office. She’d been an investment counselor at her firm for four years, and she was working her butt off for a promotion.
“Mark was telling me that he may be able to get a list of the attendees at the fundraiser,” she said nervously.
“Who is Mark?” I asked confused.
“He’s the one that gave me the tickets. I was thinking maybe if you saw his name it could spark a memory,” she said in an optimistic tone.
“I don’t know. It’s not like I forget his name. I just never knew it. I doubt seeing, or even hearing it will jog my memory,” I explained just as the timer on the oven went off.
After removing the glass casserole dish, I tossed my oven mitts onto the counter before grabbing two plates out of the cabinet. After making a plate for Mariah, and another for myself, I returned to the sofa, where my best friend had spread out comfortably.
“What’s this?” I asked as I noticed her choice in entertainment.
“Come on! You know I love the Kings, and they’re playing the Capitals, it should be a good game,” she nodded while motioning towards the hockey game blaring from the television.
I didn’t really understand how she could watch such a barbaric sport. Not even two minutes into us watching, and one of the players rammed into another, shoving him into the plastic barrier surrounding the rink. I shook my head; happy the game was pausing for a commercial.
Nervously, I tried the sparkling grape juice. I’d read in one of my pregnancy books that carbonation could sometimes cause the baby to move, and I was really anxious about it. But when I sipped nothing happened, I guess it was too soon. The pregnancy app I’d downloaded said that my baby was probably about the size of a grape by now. I giggled to myself as I imagined a tiny little baby floating around in my belly.
“Oh my god! There he is! I absolutely love him!” Mariah shrieked, snatching me out of my thoughts.
“Who?” I asked while looking up at the television. It was a sports drink commercial with a group of men ice-skating with hockey helmets on, before one of the men grabbed a bottle of the purple sports drink and poured the contents through the opening of his helmet.
“Aiden Beckett! He’s so fine!” She smiled at the screen as if the man could see her.
“You can’t even see his face,” I giggled at her fawning over this hot man in a helmet that probably smelled like feet.
“I don’t even need to see his face. Aiden Beckett is the type of person that should be required to wear a helmet in everyday life. He’s just too damn fine!” She smiled as the game came back on.
“I don’t get the hype,” I mumbled under my breath, but Mariah’s eye roll lets me know that she’d definitely heard me.
We’d finished our dinner, so I began gathering up our dirty dishes before heading into the kitchen. I was just finished loading the dishwasher when Mariah yelled over to me.
“There he is! Look at him!” She yelled without looking away from the game. Glancing up at the television, I saw a banner being raised into the rafters. Walking back to the living room I watched as Mariah beamed with pride before explaining.
“He broke another record! He has the most goals in Kings history, so they’re honoring him tonight. We should’ve gone to the game. I bet the arena is electric!” She exclaimed, a little disappointed to be watching it from my sofa.
I was just about to promise to go to the next game with her when all the breath escaped me. I placed my hand over my heart as my vision focused in on the jaw line I’d spent more hours dreaming about than I cared to admit. His smile was as charming as I’d remembered it. I stared at the television in disbelief as I saw the man I’d slept with 9-weeks ago waving to a roaring crowd before running his fingers through his thick brown hair and taking a seat.
“See! You’re affected! Don’t deny it, the man is gorgeous!” Mariah said, watching me for a reaction.
“That’s him,” I said breathlessly, my words barely audible.
“What?” Mariah asked half paying attention and watching the television.
“What’s his name?” I asked, my hand instantly dropping to my belly as I struggled to regain my composure.
“Aiden. Aiden Beckett. He must be injured, but it’s our treat because he looks even better in a suit,” she smiled before looking towards me, instantly noticing something was wrong.
“Are you okay?” She asked.
“That’s him, Mariah.” I paused as I looked at my best friend. I could tell she couldn’t put it together, so I simplified it for her, “Aiden is the man from the fundraiser. He’s my baby’s father.” I rubbed my belly while turning to face the television again. The camera panned to Aiden as he looked around the arena, that contagious million-watt smile splayed across his handsome face.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Mariah yelled while moving to sit on her knees as her eyes looked ready to pop out of her head.
“I guess I should’ve been watching hockey, huh?” I giggled.
“You mean to tell me you slept with Aiden fucking Beckett and you didn’t know it?!” She yelled.
“How would I know him?” I threw my hands in the air.
“He’s like the most famous bachelor in the city, Emily! The man is a billionaire for Christ’s sake!” She seemed to be annoyed with my naiveté.
“If he were a billionaire, he wouldn’t play hockey for a living,” I scoffed while settling onto the sofa.
“Oh, but he is,” she insisted before continuing, “his dad is an investment banking legend; he was rich before he ever picked up a hockey stick.” She motioned toward the television as she said the last sentence before reaching towards my coffee table to grab my MacBook.
“What’re you doing?” I asked.
“We’re Googling your baby’s dad,” she teased as she opened the silver laptop.
After a few clicks, there was everything you could want to know about Aiden Becket, or ‘Hockey’s Bad Boy,' as ESPN described him. Mariah clicked through the images, shaking her head in disbelief every few seconds. There were plenty of pictures of him in his hockey uniform, as well as others of him topless, posing in magazines, and even some of him with women draped over him. After the third page of pictures, Mariah decided she’d had enough and handed me the laptop. I closed it, pretending not to care much.
“So what are you going to do?” She asked while turning to face me, her legs crossed underneath her.
“Well, I have to tell him. That much I know for sure. Do you think I should message him online or something? He’s got to have social media, right?” I sounded clueless.
“Are you kidding me? He has millions of followers, you’ll never get through on his social media. Besides, what are you going to say? ‘Hey, we met at a fundraiser a couple of weeks ago, kinda got something to tell ya.' No, you should go up to the arena. They practice every day, and you’re gorgeous, you can manage to sneak into practice,” she teased, and I let out a nervous giggle.
“What will I even say?” I thought aloud, and Mariah rubbed my back, realizing her faux jealousy would have to take a backseat to my very real dilemma. In a way, I had solved one huge problem and exchanged it for another.
Mariah and I went over several possible scenarios and different ways I could go about talking to him before it was time for her to go home. She promised she would call the next day to help me come up with a plan. Then I packed her an extra piece of lasagna in Tupperware, and she left for the night.
As soon as the door shut behind her, I rushed to the sofa to open my laptop, determined to learn as much as I could about Aiden, but preferring to complete my investigation without my best friend hovering over my shoulder.
It ended up being a good idea because although I’m sure she already knew it, I didn’t want to read the disparaging articles I read about him in front of Mariah. Several blogs called him a womanizer and told tales about how he slept around and never actually dated. There were also a handful of first-person accounts of him being a complete asshole, which included screenshots of text conversations with him. Apparently, Aiden Beckett was the wrong man to love because he never seemed to reciprocate the feeling. He was anything but a gentleman according to every blog post I read.
After an hour of investigating I decided I’d had enough, forcing myself to close the MacBook before I overloaded on information. I went running a bath with the hopes of quieting my thoughts. Stripping down as I prepared to soak until my mind relaxed, I looked at my naked frame in the mirror. Leaning back, I tried to poke my belly out, but there still was no baby bump.
My first ultrasound appointment with Dr. Lindsey was coming up soon, and as I climbed into the shallow tub, I wondered if Aiden would be going with me. I knew that I didn’t want to force him to be a part of the pregnancy or the baby’s life. He had done pretty much everything he could to prevent pregnancy, so it was evident this wasn’t his intention.
I tried to imagine every possible reaction from him as I scrubbed my skin with a lavender exfoliating sugar scrub. Would he be excited to see me? Then the thought that I had yet to considered hit me. Maybe he wouldn’t even remember me. That would be so embarrassing.
Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to calm down and let the day play out how it may. There really wasn’t much else I could do about it. Regardless, no matter what Aiden said or did, I was having a baby, and I couldn’t stress about any of it because then I’d cause stress to my child.
I settled into bed after putting on my fuzzy pajamas. I had a big day ahead of me tomorrow. I was nervous and excited. For weeks I’d wanted to know who the mystery man was, and tomorrow I would get to see him face-to-face. I just hoped he was ready to meet me, and his baby.