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“Long story,” I sigh.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Jeffrey, but you’re too late. Stella and I are having a baby.”
Here we go.
“What?!” Jeff shouts, snapping out of his stargazing fog all at once. His eyes slam into mine, flashes of betrayal in them.
“Dane!” I grind out. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave if you don’t stay out of this.”
“I was here first. Why don’t you ask him to leave,” says the five-year-old trapped in a man’s body.
“Jeff, he’s…right. I…I’m having the baby with Dane.” My eyes slide over to see Dane smiling so broadly his face might break.
I didn’t even realize I’d made a decision until Jeff pressed me on it. Now that I’ve said it out loud though, something inside of me relaxes.
After what he told me about his relationship with his father, I have no doubt that he will be a devoted parent as well. And with the stipulation that he keeps his personal life far from our child, the fact that he has no intention of settling down means my son or daughter won’t have to share him with anyone else. An added bonus.
This is good. This works. This is happening.
Jeff looks befuddled. I can see him trying to figure out how it happened without his knowledge, and something, maybe an odd sense of loyalty to the friendship we once shared, makes me feel bad.
“I don’t understand. How do you two know each other?”
I glare at Dane, who remains completely unfazed at my best attempts to shame him into submission.
“We were introduced through a friend,” Dane answers.
Jeff stares at me blankly.
“Ethan,” I explain.
“How long has thing been going on?”
“Long enough,” Dane is quick to add. I have to give him credit for skirting the truth without actually lying.
Jeff runs a hand through his hair, exhaling harshly. “He’ll fuck you over, Stel. This guy has the worst reputation when it comes to women.”
In the privacy of my mind I’m curling up in a ball. Either I allow him to believe it’s an intimate relationship with a man exactly like my father, a topic Jeff and I had discussed many times at his insistence, or I tell him about the contract. Neither of which I really want to explain to him.
Dane takes the decision out of my hands when he steps further into the room, all charged up now that his integrity has been questioned. “Do I know you?” he says, stabbing an index finger at Jeff. “No, I do not. So don’t presume to know shit about me.”
“Okay, that’s enough.” I step between the two of them. Placing a hand on Dane’s chest, he steps back with only the slightest effort from me. I push him all the way out of the kitchen and into the hallway.
“If you want to impress me you will keep your mouth shut and stay out of this.”
His hands go straight to his lean hips, his face stiff.
“You want me to stay quiet while that judgmental fucker––”
“Language,” I hiss, cutting off the rest of his mini tirade. “And keep it down, will you.”
“He dances in here without an invitation––” he continues in a lower voice. “Tries to mess with all my hard work, and I’m supposed to keep my mouth shut?”
Dances? Hard work? I can’t. “Stay here, or leave. Your choice.”
“Stay here,” Dane grunts with an indignant lift of the chin.
Back in the kitchen, Jeff is rinsing out his wine glass. “I should go,” he says in the most dejected voice. And the heart I seldom hear from cries out for him.
Jeff is a good person. Despite what Delia thinks––that he’s a pompous asshole. Or my mother––that he’s selfish. I know this man. I know he’s a good person.
“Jeff,” I say with all the sympathy I can muster. “I’m sorry. I really am. But you said no and…and maybe it was for the best. With all the history we have between us…it would’ve complicated things.”
“And he doesn’t complicate things?”
“No. He doesn’t. I don’t expect you to understand, but it’s the truth.” He turns then and takes me in, acceptance etched in the grooves bracketing his fine lips.
“Why didn’t you want to get married? Was it me?”
“You weren’t in love with me, Jeff. What you had for me was affection. You convinced yourself we were a good match, and that it was enough, but it wouldn’t have been. Eventually, we would’ve split up. When you find someone you’re crazy about, you’ll call to thank me and I’ll say I told you so.”
Nodding, his brow furrows and his eyes fall to the floor. When he looks back up, he says, “Are you sure about this guy? I don’t want to see you hurt.”
“I’m sure. He doesn’t have the power to hurt me.”
Chapter Nine
Stella
Across the park I spot Delia walking a cow. At least, it looks like a cow from afar, though it’s probably a dog. Anything with fur and Delia is advocating for its rights. Fostering hard-to-place dogs happens to be her thing.
“Is he safe? Or am I in danger of losing a hand if I get any closer.”
“You’re in danger all right, but not from this one,” she says pointing to the black and white giant. “It’s this one you need to stay away from.”
Suddenly, a small, somewhat mangled head pops out of the doggy bag slung over her shoulder. A half toothless, one-eyed Chihuahua growls viciously. With the cow leading the way, we walk over to the dog park on East 86th, a stones throw from the East River walk.
“What kind of dog is this anyway?”
“A harlequin Great Dane. He was born mostly blind.”
Wonderful. The point of getting together with Delia was to stop obsessing about the decision I made. All for naught, Dane’s presence has stalked me here as well.
A mini panic seized me this morning when I realized I promised Dane that I wouldn’t back out before we signed the contract. For someone that has absolutely no qualms about making million dollar decisions, I’m failing in spectacular fashion at this one.
The large dog area is mostly empty. We walk in and take a seat on one of the empty benches. The big one obediently sits.
“He’s sitting on my feet.”
“He’s trying to get close to you. Tupac has self-esteem issues. He’s scared of any dog larger than Biggie Smalls.” She motions to the tiny tyrant in her bag. “I’ve been working on socializing him a little at a time. Two weeks ago he wouldn’t even walk in here.”
“Tupac and Biggie?”
“I’m trying to inspire some confidence.”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to name them?”
“I’m not supposed to eat carbs past ten, or pick at my face but guess what––” She points at the tiny zit with a scab on her chin. “Have you made a decision?”
“I think so,” I grumble.
“What’s the holdup?”
“I’m not sure if he’s the worst case of arrested development I’ve ever encountered, or it’s all an act.”
“What are you leaning toward?”
“An act.”
“Then he’s the perfect opposite of you. Loose where you’re tight.”
She gives me a raised blonde eyebrow. I say blonde because since we met, Delia has spent her time reinventing herself. Where there was once a mass of red hair, there is now a sexy, platinum blonde bob.
I search for clues that she’s joking and come up empty.
“That would be terrible. And I’m not tight.”
“Au contraire, it would balance the equation. You would complement each other. And, gurl, you are tight. I don’t know anybody else who schedules their weekends with ringtone alerts for lunch and sleep.”
“Or I would look like the bitter killjoy for imposing some structure and Dane will end up the superhero that lets the kid do anything.” I shoot my supposed best friend an admonishing glare. “And getting seven hours of sleep is really important.”
“Not as important as getting off.?
? I look her way and she shrugs. “How’s Tina?”
“Back at work––acting like nothing’s happened. I’m worried.”
“Have you told her?”
Every time I try to summon the courage to tell Tina about my plans, I back out at the last minute. I shake my head, no words necessary.
“So you find this mystery dad––maybe it’s this Dane guy––then what? You never date again? You’re going to give up your prime sex years to raise a child by a man who’s basically a stud for hire?”
Leave it to my bestie to go straight for the jugular. “When you put it that way it sounds so appealing.”
“Explain it to me then. Make me understand why you would sacrifice the best years of your life.”
“I don’t know if I can, Del. It’s a feeling, an urge. It’s always there, this longing. Like something’s missing.”
“And the sex-longing isn’t there?”
“It comes and goes,” I admit with an embarrassed shrug. “Basically no.”
