CHAPTER
SIX
Mindy
I’m feeling a bit discouraged right now and I’m not sure what to do next. My first appointment for the obstetrician is scheduled for next week, which I’m kind of excited about, but it’s what my internet searches have revealed that makes me queasy.
“What am I gonna do?” I murmur to myself as I read yet another online forum about fathers’ rights even in the case of rape. “Because that bastard isnotgoing to be part of my baby’s life. Nope, nuh-uh, not fucking happening.”
The question is, what kind of attorney should I find? I already have an emergency protective order thanks to the detectives handling my case. But they’re unaware that I’m pregnant, and unfortunately for me, by the time my case goes to trial, I’ll likely be as big as a house. I hear a noise on the front porch and quickly open my front door, grateful that I opted for a change of scenery and am working in my living room today.
Normally, I sit in my office, which is actually the second bedroom that I converted into my work space. Seeing Cruzjuggling a bunch of bags, I clear my throat and when he turns around, I ask, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
If the surprise on his face is any indication, I’ve managed to shock him. “Yeah, sure, come on in,” he says, motioning to the open door. I precede him inside and sit on his couch while he drops the bags on his kitchen table. “Do you want anything to drink?” he asks.
“No, I’m good. I… uh, I’m not really sure how to ask this, so I’ll just blurt it out, okay?”
“Go for it, Mindy,” he advises.
“Okay, so that night, while you were getting my clothes, the nurse gave me one of those Plan B pills sincehedidn’t use any protection,” I say. At his nod, I continue. “Anyhow, about a week ago, after I had been sick on and off for a few weeks, I took… I took an at-home pregnancy test. It was positive, Cruz.” My voice is now barely above a whisper as I wring my hands. “I don’t believe in abortion per se. I mean, I know there are circumstances where they’re necessary, but I’m healthy and capable of raising a baby on my own. The thing is, from everything I’ve seen online,hewould have rights as the biological father. I can’t handle that, Cruz. There’s no way I could live with seeing him every other weekend or whatever he would have as far as visitation goes. If the pill didn’t work, there’s a reason it didn’t work, right? So, what do you suggest I do to prevent him from having any access to my baby?”
By now, he’s next to me on the couch and he has my hands engulfed in his own. Instead of freaking out at the fact that he’s touching me, I find myself leaning closer. He represents safety and security to me, and because he still treats me the way healways did before that night, I trust him and his opinion. Guess he broke into my small circle.
“Jolie’s husband, Dex, found an attorney who’s looking into my case. Would you like me to call her?” he asks. “She might have some ideas, after all.”
“If you think she can help, then absolutely,” I reply.
I sit there while he makes the call, lost in my own thoughts when he says, “Okay, we’ll be there soon.”
“What?” I question when he stands up, pulling me up as well.
“She wants to meet with us in about thirty minutes,” he says.
“Shit, I can’t go there looking like a homeless person!” I shriek. “Give me five minutes to get changed.” I rush out of his place and back into mine, my mind furiously racing.
Thank goodness since the night he brushed my hair I’ve gotten my hygiene back in line. My hair is already brushed and put up for the day, but I am not going out of the house in sweats and one of Brock’s old graphic T-shirts. In a few short minutes, I have a pair of jeans and a cute blouse on, and I’m swiping a little bit of makeup on my face since I still look so damn pale.
Morning sickness, my ass. I’m sick at all hours of the day, and ginger ale, as well as ginger chews, have become my best friends, they’re the only thing that somewhat settle my churning belly. I’ve eaten so many boxes of saltines at this point that my recycling bin is overflowing with them as well as the empty bottles of caffeine free soda.
“Well, this is as good as it’s gonna get,” I mutter as I walk back through my place, grabbing my keys and purse along the way. Imake sure my door is locked and turn only to stop in my tracks to see Cruz, casually sitting on our porch railing.
“Damn, if that’s what you’re able to accomplish in a few short minutes, I might have a stroke if you have hours to get ready,” he teases, jumping to his feet and holding out his hand.
I don’t even question what I’m doing as my fingers slide into his warm grip. He leads me over to his truck and helps me inside, before he shuts the door and rounds the front of the truck, sliding into the driver’s seat. I’m quiet as he starts his vehicle and puts it into reverse before he heads toward town, but my nervousness gets the best of me and I start wringing my hands once again.
The warmth of his hand covers mine and with very little prompting, I find my fingers laced with his as we head to his attorney’s office.
“This would be so much easier if you were married or had a boyfriend already who’s willing to step in and share vows with you,” Ms. Butler murmurs as she looks down at the notes she took.
“We can make that happen,” Cruz says, shocking me into silence.
“What do you mean?” I whisper.
“Well, unless you’ve got an aversion to being hitched to an ex-con, and I can understand if you do, I am willing to be your baby’s daddy, Mindy,” he says.
“Why? I don’t understand, Cruz,” I reply, focusing on him as I forget we’ve got a captive audience.
“Honestly? Because I’ve been interested in and intrigued by you since the day you moved in, Mindy. I never asked you out before since I wasn’t sure how you’d feel dating someone who went to prison.”
