CHAPTER SEVEN

I laughed when I read Jonathon’s e-mail. I couldn’t help it. I even actually knew what Avogrado’s number was, sort of, so I could appreciate the silliness. But more importantly, I appreciated what he was trying to do. He was trying to make me feel comfortable, to lighten the tension between us. To remind me of the night we had met, our one and only private joke.

It was sweet.

As I lay on my bed in my stupid apartment, eyelids heavy, tummy churning again, music softly playing from my phone, I stared at my laptop next to me and wondered how to answer Jonathon. I felt a little bad over the way I had left him in the coffee shop. Yes, he’d been patronizing, but Jessica was right. I had totally caught him off guard.

I didn’t want to do this alone. I would, if I had to, but I didn’t want to. I didn’t like to do anything alone. And while I’d been telling him the truth in my pissy rant before I stomped off, I was realistic and didn’t expect him to fall in love with me and want to be with me forever and ever behind a white picket fence. I was still an optimist. A romantic. In a secret corner of my heart, I wanted to see if there could ever be anything between us, because I wanted to have a child with not just a partner, but a lover, a best friend.

It was stupid. I knew it was stupid.

But while I might not need someone to go to the doctor with me, or help me change diapers, I wanted a shoulder to lean on, a masculine body next to mine on the couch, in bed. I had missed the intimacy since RAN and now I missed it all over again. The only time I had felt it had been that night with Jonathon, and I wanted it again, but I knew I couldn’t have it. Though it wasn’t like I could get pregnant a second time. Why couldn’t we at least have sex? It was amazing sex and we could do it all we wanted guilt-free, right?

Wrong. Because, duh, it was stupid. It would complicate things. Like seriously complicate things. Then I would want a relationship with him and he was with mystery woman. Shit. I’d forgotten about the mystery woman. Whoever she was, I hated her. Why did she get his heart when all I got was his sperm? With Nathan he’d given me his heart, but his penis to someone else. Was it so hard for one guy to give me both his heart and his hard-on?

Apparently it was.

My phone rang. Jessica. Shit, I’d forgotten to call her back.

“Um, you said you would call me back in twenty minutes and that was like three hours ago.”

“Sorry. Nathan showed up.”

“What? Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know.” I honestly had no idea what his goal was other than to hurt me.

“You didn’t tell him about the baby, did you?”

“Of course not!” The thought made me shudder. “Ugh. He never needs to know as far as I’m concerned.”

“Agreed. He’s a dick. Now listen, I talked to Rory and the boys and we think you should move in with Rory and Tyler now that Robin and Phoenix are moving out.”

The thought was instantly appealing. “But what am I supposed to do with this apartment?”

“Sublet it. Someone sublet it to you.”

I sighed and looked at Jonathon’s e-mail that was still on my screen. “Don’t you think that apartment Rory is living in is cursed or something? Everyone has moved in and out like five times. Besides, do Rory and Tyler really want a preggers roommate?”

“You can take the room upstairs. They spend all their time downstairs. And then you won’t be alone and they can help you if you need it. We don’t want you alone.”

I didn’t want me alone, either. “I’ll think about it. That’s nice of them. I appreciate it.”

What I wanted was what I couldn’t have.

If you had asked me what that was six weeks ago I would have said it was for Nathan to never have cheated on me.

Now it wasn’t that at all.

What I wanted was to unwind to the beginning with Jonathon and date him, because I liked him. He had a nice smile. He was thoughtful. He smelled good. When I had seen him in the coffee shop tonight for the first time since November, I had wanted him to kiss me. I was fighting nausea but I had still seen him and felt an ache deep down between my thighs and I had wanted his mouth on mine.

He had squeezed my shoulder instead.

I had to be realistic that all we could ever be was friendly co-parents.

Sigh. And sigh again.

It took me twenty minutes to figure out how to answer Jonathon.

Sounds like a positive reaction. ;-)

He LOL’d me right back.

Then it seemed trying to be brilliant and flirty was too taxing for me because I fell asleep before I could respond.

*   *   *

Two weeks later I didn’t care if I ever heard from Jonathon or any human being ever again. I was pretty sure that I was, in fact, dying. There was no way a microscopic fetus should be causing me to feel like I had the flu paired with mono with an extra dose of hangover on top. Every time I turned my head my stomach protested and every time I ate or drank I promptly puked it back up. I had the shakes and the sweats, and I dozed in and out of sleep. I hadn’t left my room in three days and there was dried vomit on my comforter from when I hadn’t been able to muster enough energy to get to the bathroom before I threw up. My room reeked. I reeked. My hair was limp and greasy. My face felt like it could be tapped for crude oil, so much yuck was gushing from my pores.

I thought about calling my mom and begging her to come and get me and take me home to Troy, but it was over an hour away and going home would be like admitting I couldn’t handle adulthood. If I couldn’t handle adulthood, how could I be a mother? Not to mention if I skipped town, I definitely wouldn’t be able to finish the semester. So I wasn’t going to classes as it was. But at least I could hopefully recover and make it in a day or two. Hopefully. Maybe. I had already called off so often from my work-study job at the gym that my boss had told me I was permanently off the schedule, but I couldn’t even bring myself to give a shit.

When Jessica and Rory texted, I lied and said I was fine, just tired. For some reason it seemed important to deal with this on my own. Like I made my barfy bed and now I had to lie in it.

Trying to find a more comfortable position, I groaned when the shift made me dry heave.

It wasn’t helping that Jonathon was overwhelming me with texts asking me questions I didn’t know the answers to. Like who my OB/GYN was. Or if I had health insurance. I thought I did, because I always had been on my parents’, but maybe that changed because of the pregnancy. I had no idea and I didn’t have the energy to figure it out. He also wanted to know if I was going to do genetics testing for disabilities. If I needed any money for medical expenses. If I had thought about where I was going to live.

All I could think about was breathing through my nose.

I wasn’t answering him. It took too much energy to type and when I tried to hold my phone in front of me, my eyes crossed and I felt like puking. Mostly I slept, swallowed bile, and watched old TV sitcoms on Netflix on my laptop. When he finally expressed concern that I either wasn’t okay or that I was upset with him, I did manage to answer that I wasn’t feeling well.

When the buzzer went off letting me know I had a visitor at the front door, I ignored it. My first thought was it was Nathan. But then I got a text from Jonathon as the buzzer rang again.

Downstairs. Worried about you. Can I come up?

Oh, crap. Could I look any shittier? No. No, I couldn’t.

I debated telling him to go away. But he texted again.

Brought you a smoothie. And anti-nausea medication that is safe for the baby.

Okay, I could get over the fact that I looked like ass if he could make even one one-hundredth of my symptoms go away.

Thx.

I struggled to a sitting position, then weaved to the DOOR button and hit it, holding it as long as I could before I felt dizzy, to make sure he was in. Then I unlocked my door and collapsed back onto my bed. This was worse than any hangover I’d ever had.

Jonathon knocked on the door a minute later and I tried to yell “come in,” but nothing but a pathetic whimper came out. He opened the door anyway and stepped inside.

“Kylie? Oh my God, are you okay?”

I tried to turn my head and I saw spots in front of my eyes. Suddenly Jonathon was down on his knees next to the bed, brushing my hair back off my forehead. His face looked concerned, his touch cool and gentle. “That feels good,” I murmured.

“What’s going on here? How long have you been in bed?”

“Three days. I think.”

“Have you eaten?”

Just the word made my stomach lurch and I heaved, slapping my hand over my mouth. “No.”

“Are you drinking water or anything?”

“A little.”

“How little?” He picked up the water bottle off the nightstand and shook it. “How often are you filling this up?”

“I don’t think I have refilled it.”

“When was the last time you went to the bathroom?”

I frowned. That was a little personal. “I’m not sure. Not today. I don’t think. What time is it anyway?”

“It’s seven.”

“Oh.” I closed my eyes again, fatigue overcoming me. It was like when I’d been given anesthesia for my wisdom teeth removal. You wanted your eyes to stay open, but they drifted closed anyway.

He shook me a little and I tried to swat at him but I had a hard time lifting my arm. It was like I was underwater.

“Take a sip.”

A straw was shoved into my mouth. I took a sip and swallowed. It felt good in my mouth. Cold and sweet. It soothed my throat going down. But then it hit my stomach and it went horribly wrong. I jerked to move the straw and threw up a dribble of pink smoothie and foul-smelling bile right down the side of my mouth and onto the mattress where it puddled under my elbow. Sexy times. That was me.

“All right, we’re going to the ER. This is not normal.”

“I’m not normal?” I asked.

“You shouldn’t be this sick. And you’re either going to be dehydrated soon or you already are.”

I watched him go into the bathroom then he reappeared with a wet cloth and wiped my mouth and face with it. Ah, that felt good. Then he rifled through my dresser until he found a big sweatshirt. Helping me into a sitting position, he pulled off my sweaty tank top and replaced it with the sweatshirt. He put my Uggs on my feet over my socks and then he lifted me up into his arms.

“Put your hands around my neck,” he told me.

I did, leaning against his chest, too exhausted to protest that he didn’t need to do this. That I didn’t need the ER. “You smell good,” I murmured, his scent the only thing that hadn’t clogged my nostrils and made me want to hurl in the last week. “Clean.”

He gave a soft laugh. “Even in the midst of morning sickness the chemistry of attraction applies. Because I was just thinking that you are absolutely beautiful.”

“You’re just saying that.” I sighed. “I’m a mess.”

“I don’t say anything I don’t mean. Where is your purse?”

“I don’t know.”

He bent over and I held on. He grabbed something off the kitchen counter and then we were out the door and down the stairs. The cold air outside felt good and even though I was shivering when he set me in the front seat of his car and clicked the seat belt over me, I actually felt a little better. More alert and less sick to my stomach. When we got to the ER two blocks away, he carried me into the lobby and answered all the questions as they checked me in. I leaned on his shoulder, and then I stretched across his lap as we waited. His thighs were warm and his knee made a perfect resting spot for my hand. Jonathon stroked my head, his fingers working through my dirty hair gently.

Relaxed, grateful that I didn’t have to think, that he was thinking for me, I fell asleep.

*   *   *

It wasn’t until the nurse had Kylie hooked up to an IV that the panic started to recede. The way she had looked when I had gone into her room, all clammy and waxy, her hair dull, her eyes dark, skin bruised, had scared the absolute shit out of me. For a minute, I had the horrible thought that she had miscarried and she was depressed, but then I could smell the sour odor on her clothes and see how disoriented and nauseous she was. Thank God I’d been reading up on the first trimester. I knew that sometimes women get an aggressive form of morning sickness and need medical attention, and I was damn glad I had ignored my concerns that maybe I was overstepping by showing up at her place without an invite.

But I had been worried. I couldn’t help it. This shit was all brand-new to me, and it seemed that knowing I had a cell-dividing zygote independent from myself was as capable of fixating my attention as kinetics. The last two weeks had been hell, absolute hell. It had been clear Kylie was feeling rough and I didn’t know what to do about it.

Just knowing they were pumping electrolytes into her made me feel better.

“We’re going to do the ultrasound now,” the nurse told Kylie. “Is it okay if your boyfriend stays?”

I chewed on my fingernail, feeling awkward and very aware of my sperm-donor status. It wasn’t worth correcting the boyfriend assumption, but I still felt like a fraud. Kylie didn’t answer the nurse’s question.

“Is this when you do the wand thing on my stomach?” she asked.

“It’s vaginal,” the nurse told her, already moving a cart with some equipment over to the bed. “It’s too early for the tummy.”

“What?” Kylie looked horrified. “How . . .”

The nurse held up a wand.

I knew that’s what she meant by vaginal ultrasound, but seeing the wand was another thing altogether. I wasn’t sure how appropriate it was for me to be seeing that disappear somewhere I wasn’t all that well acquainted with myself.

“Maybe I should go,” I said, inching backward in my hiking boots.

“No. Don’t go.” Kylie reached out for my hand.

Well, fuck. How was I supposed to say no to that? I would just look at the screen not the nurse. I pushed up my glasses and stepped up next to the bed and took her hand. I massaged her palm with my thumb. “You feeling better?” I asked her. She had more color to her cheeks.

“I’m okay.”

The nurse had helped put Kylie in a gown and now she draped a sheet over her knees. When the nurse’s arm disappeared under there, Kylie winced and shifted on the bed. I winced, too.

“That’s not really all that comfortable,” she said, giving me a nervous look, her hand squeezing mine tightly.

“Just relax,” the nurse reassured her. “Look at the screen.”

I looked at the screen and I had no idea what I was looking at. Presumably Kylie’s uterus, which was a fucking freaky thought.

“See that flickering right there?” The nurse pointed to the screen. “That’s the baby’s heartbeat.”

“No shit, really?” I said, before I could stop myself. “Sorry. But . . . whoa.”

“Whoa is right,” Kylie breathed. “It’s so tiny and fast. It’s amazing.”

It was amazing. More impressive than splitting an atom. That was our baby on TV.

It changed everything. It changed my fear of the future to a quiet awe and excitement. It changed my view of that passionate night in Kylie’s cramped and dark apartment that it had been a mistake to the idea that maybe this could be one of the best things to ever happen to me. I was going to be a father.

Without even thinking about it, I bent over and kissed the top of Kylie’s head. “Does everything look okay?” I asked the nurse.

“Everything looks great. There is the amniotic sac forming and I’m just doing some measurements here. It looks like your due date is August twenty-third.”

For whatever reason I actually pulled out my phone and put it on my calendar. What, like I was going to forget? Kylie didn’t notice, too busy staring at the screen, but the nurse gave me a look of amusement.

“Why am I so sick?” Kylie asked.

“It happens to some women. You’re just lucky, I guess. The doctor will be in soon to talk to you. He’ll probably admit you for a few days to stabilize you.”

“So this isn’t dangerous for the baby?” I asked, staring at the flickering on the screen.

“Baby will be fine, don’t worry.” The nurse gave me a smile. “You did the right thing bringing her in. Dehydration isn’t good and she’ll be much more comfortable once we get the vomiting under control.”

I nodded. The nurse removed the wand, printed out the image on the screen, and handed it to me. Then she efficiently put all the equipment away and said, “Doc will be right in.”

We were alone again and I held up the printout for Kylie to see. “That’s pretty cool, huh?”

“It’s so tiny.” She touched the paper then glanced up at me. “It doesn’t seem real, does it?”

“No. But then, yes.” I laughed. “It’s surreal, I guess. Yet so real it’s terrifying.”

“I’m scared, too.” She sighed. “And tired.”

Something tight happened in my chest when she said that, and I squeezed her hand. “Close your eyes, Kylie. You deserve to sleep. I’ve got this.”

I did. I had it. I was somewhat amazed that I did, but it seemed once I was pried forcibly out of the lab, I could handle more than academia.

I wondered if Charles Darwin had kids.

Charlie was a good name.

Huh.

*   *   *

The next day I was feeling a little better, propped up in my hospital bed, my IV dripping away with many, many things that different nurses kept injecting into it. My stomach felt a little more settled and I texted Jessica and Rory, who insisted on coming up to see me. I asked them to bring dry shampoo and facial cleanser. One glance in the bathroom mirror when the nurse had helped me use the toilet had made it clear that I was a natural disaster in desperate need of a hairbrush. Jonathon had said he would stop by around four to see how I was doing between class and his lab and I was feeling recovered enough to not want to look like total ass.

My friends came in around three thirty, Jessica carrying a big satchel. “OMG, I can’t believe you are in the hospital and you didn’t tell us until after the fact! I almost died when I read your text.”

“I didn’t think it was something to go to the ER for, you know,” I said, shrugging. “I mean, I’m pregnant, I figured suck it up, bitch, right? But Jonathon was worried I was dehydrated.”

“Jonathon gets a thumbs-up,” Jessica said, dropping the bag on the foot of the bed.

“How are you feeling?” Rory asked.

“Better. But I look like crap. I haven’t showered in five days, and Jonathon is supposed to be here in thirty minutes.” I held my hand out for the bag. We were short on time here.

Jessica grinned. “You like him, don’t you?”

I made a face. “Of course I like him.”

“No, I mean you have a crush on him. I knew it.”

Probably. But it was too embarrassing to admit. “Harass me while you brush my hair, please.” I pulled the rubber band out of it and shook my head a little, suddenly feeling dizzy from the motion. I gripped the handrail. “Shit. I hate this dizziness.”

Jessica looked contrite. Rory had the bottle of dry shampoo in her hand and she worked it into my hair, then Jessica brushed. “I feel like a princess. A hideously greasy and pregnant princess.”

“You don’t look hideous,” Rory said. “And FYI, Tyler and Riley are packing your bags as we speak so you can come back to our apartment. You’re not going back there alone until you’re feeling better because you scared us, big-time.”

“You could ask me, you know,” I protested. “I’m not helpless.”

“No. But you’re not Wonder Woman either, so quit acting like you are.”

I knew their hearts were in the right place, but I felt put out. “Fine.” Of course I preferred to stay with them instead of by myself, but at the same time, I wanted to make my own choices. I wasn’t stupid, even though everyone seemed to think I was most of the time. But I couldn’t be a total brat about it when they were grooming me.

Jessica handed me a facial cleanser wipe and it was glorious to scrub my nose free of oil. My hair felt a thousand times better after the shampoo and brushing, and Rory produced a toothbrush, getting a cup of water from the bathroom. “Don’t use any toothpaste, it might make you feel queasy again. Just brush.”

It did make me feel better even just to brush my teeth and my tongue and swish the water around in my mouth. Jessica even had a razor in the bag so I quickly shaved my armpits in bed and then used the stick of deodorant she handed me. Finally, unscented lip balm went on, and I felt almost human again, instead of like something dredged up from the bottom of the river. A glance in a compact mirror showed a marginal improvement in appearance but that my skin was still pale, dark circles under my eyes prominent.

The toiletries disappeared into the bag and Rory placed a stack of fashion and gossip magazines on the tray that rolled over the bed. “I thought you might get bored.”

“Oh, cool, thanks. Yeah, the doctor said I’ll probably be here for three days. I have like no idea what I’m going to do about my classes. I’m going to be so behind.” Just the thought made me start to feel sick again.

“Hey, don’t stress yourself out. Your professors will be understanding.” Rory pulled out her phone. “Give me your schedule and I will go and talk to them for you.”

“Really? You’re awesome sauce.” My friends were the best, seriously.

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Jessica called.

The door opened and Jonathon’s head peered in. “Is this Kylie Warner’s room?”

“Yep. Come on in. I’m Jessica.”

He came into the room, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Oh my God. He’d brought me flowers. That was hot. A flush came over me. “Hi,” I said. “Thanks for coming. This is Jessica, like she said, and Rory. This is Jonathon.”

He nodded and smiled at my friends. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” Jessica turned and gave me a wicked smile, her eyebrows going up and down.

I ignored her, smiling back at Jonathon. He was wearing jeans and a flannel shirt.

He came up to the bed. “You look fantastic today. Seriously.” He held the flowers out to me. “For you, for being such a trooper.”

“Thank you.” I took them and felt a little shy and in awe. I wasn’t normally shy, but he made me feel less inclined to verbally vomit. They were bright big fuchsia roses. “They’re beautiful.”

“Pink is your favorite color, right?”

I glanced up at him, surprised. “How did you know that?” I was absolutely positive that had never been mentioned in our few conversations. “It totally is.”

He shrugged, with a grin. “Lucky guess. Because your backpack is pink, your scarf and your keychain are fuzzy pink, your boots and your comforter are pink. So you know, the volume indicated a certain preference.”

I laughed. “Good call, Sherlock.”

“Has the doctor been in?”

“Not today.” I set the flowers down and tried to reach the nightstand. “Hey, will you grab the ultrasound picture? I want to show the girls.”

“Sure.” He picked up the printout and held it out for Jessica and Rory. He put his index finger on the paper. “This is the heartbeat.”

“No way,” Jessica said. “That is a freakout.”

When Jonathon set his backpack down on the floor and bent over to get something out of it, Rory grinned at me and gave a thumbs-up. Jessica mouthed that he was cute. I shook my head, grinning. They were not being totally obvious or anything.

He stood back up, his tablet in his hand. “You can use my iPad while you’re here in the hospital to work on catching up on reading for school. You should have an Internet connection so you can access your e-mail, and your university account to read your course syllabi. Most of the reading material should be in your Google Drive, right?”

I nodded, stunned, as he set his iPad on my tray.

“I talked to your professors and explained that you were in the hospital. I had the papers from the ER so they knew it was legit. They all agreed to a week’s extension on any assignments and know not to expect you in class.”

It was like having another brain. A brain that was smarter than me and extra helpful. I was pretty sure that if I hadn’t been sick as a dog and in the presence of my friends I would have had sex with him right then and there.

“Wow, thanks, Jonathon. That’s super helpful.”

He gave a sheepish shrug. “Hell, it’s the least I can do. I feel guilty that I’m walking around perfectly fine and you’re so sick. You kind of got a raw deal on this one.”

“It’s definitely the gift that keeps on giving,” I said, wanting to tease him a little. All of this got too heavy sometimes. I wasn’t a heavy or deep kind of chick, for the most part.

Jonathon laughed. “Well, I’ll let you visit with your friends. I just wanted to check on you and give you the iPad. If it’s okay with you, I’ll stop by tomorrow.”

I nodded. “Great. Thanks.”

Then he was gone with a wave.

Jessica waved her arms in front of her face like she was overheated. “What the fuck?” she said in a stage whisper. “Girl, I think you hit the baby-daddy lottery.”

“I wasn’t even planning to play that lottery!” I protested, creeped out by the way that sounded.

“Which makes it even luckier. He’s like the sweetest thing ever. It’s disgusting.”

“He is.” I couldn’t argue with that. I kept waiting for him to be a total dick, but since that night I’d told him I was pregnant and he had made a few rude remarks he had been nothing but nice and considerate. That should be awesome, right? Except it was making it harder for some reason. It was seeming like the cruelest of all ironies.

“He clearly really cares about you,” Rory said.

But that made me scoff. “He doesn’t care about me. He’s being a decent person. He cares about the baby. I’m just the . . . what do you call it? Surrogate.”

“He didn’t have his sperm-fertilized egg implanted in you. He had sex with you.” Jessica looked bewildered by my logic.

“So?”

“So he obviously likes you on some level. Most guys would be running like the hounds of hell or the child support lawyers were after them. I think he wants a relationship with you.”

And just like that, I burst into tears.

They both went wide-eyed. “What’s wrong?” Rory asked.

“Don’t do that to me. I don’t want to have any hope. Don’t you understand? I can’t have hope. I need to have strength and independence and realism, not hope.” The days of rolling around my dorm bed giggling with my friends and grinning because I liked a new guy were over. There was no room in my life for that anymore, and it was a luxury I couldn’t afford. I was having a hard enough time fighting the urge to swoon; I didn’t need them encouraging me to be delusional. “This isn’t about me,” I added. “This is about the baby.”

They both stared at me, and nodded, like they understood, but I could see the incomprehension in their eyes.

For the first time, I realized the gap that would grow between my friends and me as surely as my baby would grow. My life was going to be completely different from theirs and I would experience feelings, pain, responsibility, love they could only know in theory. Yes, Jessica was with Riley, and he had custody of Easton, but that wasn’t a baby and he was Riley’s responsibility more than hers. It was not the same as giving birth and caring for a newborn. Rory’s focus was on getting into med school.

It made me sad and sorry that we wouldn’t walk down the same path together anymore, but at the same time, I had no regret. When Nathan had cheated on me, I had lost something precious, a faith and trust, an innocence. I couldn’t be the same fun-loving party girl anymore, and I didn’t want to be. Instead of feeling aimless, hurt, unsure, I now had a focus, a future.

A reason to set aside my personal pain and work hard, graduate on time, be a good mom.

“We’re just acquaintances,” I said. “Tied together by accident. Jonathon is being awesome, and that’s more than I ever hoped for, so it’s all good.” I gestured to the flowers. “Can you guys get some water to put these in? They’re too pretty to wilt.”

Their stunned silence said more than speaking ever could have.