Chapter Ten
Derric
Right Thing, Wrong Time
I knew what she was going to say before she said it. Still, the word hits me like an oncoming car in the wrong lane that I can’t steer clear of. A head-on collision.
Pregnant. Jesus. My first thought is, What girl in this day and age isn’t on some kind of contraception? My second thought is, You’re a brainless dick, Faris. Fuck, the old man called it. You can’t keep your pants zipped.
“Say something,” Mila urges, her eyes watery and pleading, waiting for some magic words from me that will make everything right.
I’ve got nothing.
A thousand thoughts cycle in and out of my brain, none of them helpful. Who’s to say I’m the father? It’s been two months since I’ve been with Mila. I like her, and I’m crazily attracted to her, but that doesn’t mean I know her, or how many other men she might have had since then.
If that had occurred to you earlier, asshole, you’d have worn a condom.
Christ, a fine time for my conscience to show up. Hell, she could have been pregnant before I met her for all I know. But my gut, and everything I learned about her today, tells me Mila’s not that kind of girl. So what kind of man are you? my late-to-the-party conscience asks.
I reach up and stroke my fingertips along her cheek, her jaw, her forehead. Dammit, she looks so sweet and shy and vulnerable lying here in my arms, her mass of curls spread out in a brunette fan across a rickety, unfamiliar bed, trusting me to say the right thing, the decent thing. Right now, I feel like I’ve never done one right or decent thing in my whole damn life. She deserves better than this; a shitty, fleabag hotel and a randy, skirt-chasing bloke like me to get her up the duff. I can’t turn my back on her. I won’t.
“Wow. That’s... brilliant, love, brilliant. You’re certain? I’d have been gentler this time around if I’d known.”
“I wouldn’t tell you so if I wasn’t,” she says, exhaling in a rush like she’d been holding her breath waiting for my reaction. “And I didn’t want you to be gentle.”
I grin at that. She plays a bit rough herself, and I love that about her, but I wonder if that’s going to be safe in the coming months. “You’re alright, yeah? Your doc says everything’s fine? How... far along?”
“She says about six weeks. I’m perfectly fine. I’ll be due sometime in November.”
Six weeks seems about right, but November? Steve will be expecting me back in Sydney well before then. The network will be on the air, and my work here will be done. What am I going to tell the old man then? When I said I wanted an excuse to stay in America, this situation wasn’t what I had in mind. Christ, it would prove him right, the old cocksucker, that I’m a compulsive fuck-up.
Wait a sec. I’m pretty sure getting pregnant isn’t what Mila had in mind either; maybe she’s telling me so that I’ll offer to provide some alternative. It’s a touchy subject, and I don’t want to go there, but we’re not living in medieval times. I certainly have the means to help her out.
“Mila... I don’t want to sound crass or anything but... is this what you want? To go through with it, I mean? If you need money to...”
Mila gives a light shake of her head, the sea of emotions roiling behind her pretty eyes drowning my unfinished sentence. “Derric. Don’t. Don’t you dare flash your money in front of me. It’s not about that, not at all. I’ve had weeks to think things through, and I want this baby—your baby—not your money. If you were the most destitute man on Earth, I’d still want to have this baby. I’d want you. I can understand if you want no part of it...”
“Shh,” I whisper, putting a finger to her lips that are still rosy and plump from kissing. If I didn’t know what kind of man I was before, I’m choosing the one I want to be now. “Stop. I do want to be part of it... I am part of it... and I’ll be here for you, for both of you, whatever you decide. I promise.”
Don’t start promising what you can’t deliver, Faris.
Mila smiles, and at least I know I’ve said the right things; whether I can do the right things remains to be seen. But I’m going to try. She tilts her head and kisses me, a kiss filled with passion, the kind of passion that makes my privates twitch to inconvenient life again. Damn, I could fuck this beautiful goddess all day long, but is it safe to go again? Do we have time? We’ve only got the room for two hours, and we both have work to return to.
“So, who knows about this besides you and me?” I ask as she unlocks me from her kiss.
“Claire,” she answers. “And my doctor, of course.”
“What about your parents? Brothers or sisters?”
I feel her chest expand and contract against me as she takes a deep breath in and out before answering. “No. I’m an only child. And both my parents are gone now. I miss them. I wish they could have lived to see their grandchild.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. But that means we have some things in common. My mum died of cancer a long time ago. I have no siblings either. Yeah, she’d have been right chuffed to have a grandchild, too.”
“I wish there were no such things as cancers or tumors.” She sighs. “But you have your dad, right? I saw him on TV—you were sitting next to him at a press conference. You must be glad to still have him, at least. I would be. And it must be great to work together.”
“Huh.” I snort. I’m not about to spew forth all the nasty baggage my father and I carry around. Mila doesn’t need to hear all that, she’s got enough on her plate, and I’ve already put a huge helping on it as it is.
“Yeah, I suppose I should consider myself lucky,” I concede.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t very lucky for you, was I?”
“Hey.” I slip an arm around her neck to reassure her. “We’re in this together. No apologies, remember? We’re both responsible, and we’ll deal with it together. No worries.”
“Derric, does this change your decision to hire Church & Strait? I wouldn’t blame you if it did. And Claire doesn’t know about it yet, so if you want to reconsider...”
“Absolutely not,” I reply firmly. “In fact, I’d better get you back to your office so you can clear the decks for all the work ROO-TV is going to be sending you.” I glance around at the dingy, decrepit room. “Let’s get out of here before the carpet leaves a stain on our clothes.”
Mila laughs, and we get dressed, leaving the disreputable premises behind with sheepish grins on our faces.
After escorting her to her office, I take a walk before heading back to my rental; the never-ending chaos of cars and people forming the perfect backdrop for my equally chaotic thoughts.
For all my pragmatic words, I haven’t quite wrapped my head around the idea of becoming a father. I’m not even close to ready. I harbor no desire to start a family—especially given the kind of “family” I’d been born into, if you could even call it that. A domineering, emotionally crippled patriarch who treated his wife and son like machinery parts; human cogs in his wheel of capitalist ambition.
I truly think my mother died of a broken heart. Her cancer was simply incidental, and deep down, I blame him for it. He robbed us both of the happy family experience we’re all led to believe we deserve. In all my years, did I ever hear an “I love you” or “I’m proud of you, son”? Never. Not once.
Family. It’s a bogus institution, responsible for just as many wars as politics and religion. Yet here I am, perpetuating the cycle, scattering my seed to the wind like so many dandelions, impregnating an innocent woman I hardly know in my thoughtless wake. I do like her. But to start a family with almost a complete stranger? That’s got to be an eleven on the Derric Faris reckless scale of one to ten.
The timing couldn’t be worse—in the middle of the biggest career turning point of my life, with Steve watching my neck from afar like a human vulture, waiting for me to fail. Maybe my biggest fear is that I’ll turn out just like him; incapable of nurturing or expressing a single loving emotion. On the other hand, I could hardly do worse. And something in me wants to prove it; be the father he never was, to best him at this one thing, the most important thing.
I’ve been given a chance, which is more than some blokes ever get. I haven’t made it this far in life without good instincts, and my instincts draw me to Mila. She’s beautiful and strong and determined. She’s someone I can count on, and I want to be the same for her. For the first time, I have someone counting on me that doesn’t think they’re the bloody King, the Pope and the Sheriff all rolled into one and pass judgment on me at every opportunity.
And it feels damn good.