“Well?” she asks. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
“I figured I’d let you go first,” I say. “I thought you might want a chance to explain yourself.”
“For what?” she asks, and I lean in. There is no reason for this conversation to go public.
“For bringing our son to my house and dropping him off without a word. For sneaking around my house, taking photos and selling them to Sigma. Either or.”
“You want a drink?” she asks.
“I mean, I’ll take a beer,” I answer, and she grabs two bottles of domestic and pops the tops.
“Trish, I’m taking ten,” she calls out, and a blonde appears from around the corner.
“I got you, love,” she says before locking eyes on me and batting her lashes.
We head over to a booth in the corner and sit down across from each other.
“How is he?” she asks.
“Your son?” I ask.
“Yes, my son, who else?”
“He’s fine,” I answer, taking a sip. “Confused I’m sure, but adjusting.”
“You haven’t had any trouble with him?” she asks.
“We took him to the hospital. He got checked out, and I got a paternity test. And you’re right, he’s mine. I mean, assuming you knew that when you dropped him off on my doorstep.”
“Of course he’s yours,” she snaps. “I wouldn’t have slept with anyone else. I loved you.”
I decide to circle back to that at some point and stay the course. “There’s been a welfare check and I’m being granted full custody because it was considered abandonment.”
“I didn’t know what else to do,” she says.
“I’m going to get him into childcare soon,” I say.
“It’s expensive,” she says.
“I think I can manage,” I tell her with a small smile.
“You have to understand my situation,” she tells me. “I was pregnant, and I was afraid. I have no money, not enough to take care of a baby. I live in an apartment down the street. I work here for god’s sake.”
“We love you too,” Trish yells from across the bar, and Nikki offers a small smile.
“I wasn’t fit to be his mom.”
“Why didn’t you ask for help?” I ask, and she snorts out a laugh before taking a sip of her beer.
“Right. Because you would have helped me.”
“If I knew he was my son, yes. I would have sent money. Child support. I would have seen to it that you didn’t live in a place that wasn’t safe for him.”
“Our apartment was safe,” she snaps. “It’s not fancy, but he was never in danger.”
“I didn’t know that,” I tell her softly. “I didn’t know anything.”
“Of course not. You broke up with me before you could have known a single thing. After that, I got a positive pregnancy test, and I didn’t know what to do. I thought about adoption…”
