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“Oh, wow, you’re still with Dare’s brother? Holy shit. I thought that was just a one-nighter deal. Judging from the wedding fireworks—” Sage broke off and nudged Ally out of the way to come over to the table. “He’s delicious. Go you.”
“Uh, thanks? And no, we aren’t really together in that sense.” I bit my lip. “Sometimes it’s just sex and you get pregnant.”
Even as I said the words, they didn’t seem quite right. Sure, that night in December, we’d been riding the lust train. But now? We weren’t exactly out of that place, but it seemed like we were kind of straddling another one too. Friends with benefits, maybe, but more? Or it could be more, if I wasn’t a freak who was too scared to let the guy spend the night.
Or the afternoon.
Sage looked around the room at the other women. “Hello, you’re preaching to the choir. We all were in that situation. Well, minus Ally because she was in love with Seth since the moment he insulted her in like, what was it, seventh grade?”
“Tenth. And it wasn’t an insult. Exactly.” Ally whacked Sage lightly on the arm. “What my big-mouthed bestie means is sometimes an accident can lead to…well, a miracle.”
Sage frowned. “I didn’t mean that, but that’s really sweet.”
I looked down at the table. My hands were fisted, the knuckles white. I wasn’t used to miracles. My life was mostly a train wreck collision most of the time, broken up by stretches of boredom that caused me to do something crazy.
Like climbing Gage like a stripper pole that night at The Spinning Wheel.
“I don’t know what this is yet,” I said, hating that everyone was looking at me.
Waiting for me to declare that I was madly in love with Gage.
Or that he was madly in love with me.
It didn’t always work out that way. I didn’t want to borrow trouble and expect something that might not be in the cards. My priority was my kid.
Our kid.
Gage and I were incidental to making sure the baby got what he or she needed. If we managed to figure that out, I wouldn’t ask for more.
No matter how much part of me wanted to.
Thirteen
Babies needed a lot of stuff.
For someone who was newly unemployed—again—Baby Rama was overwhelming. Forget even the cost of things. The sheer amount of items needed to properly provide for a child was staggering.
How did people manage?
The kid would need pacifiers and special cups that didn’t spill and head supports and pillows to brace their floppy frames. Toys. Clothes.
A place to live.
Was my apartment big enough for us? It didn’t seem so, since it was scarcely big enough for me. I could dance in the living room and almost touch all four walls.
I had savings, thank God, and I suspected Gage wouldn’t skimp on helping out, but he’d probably be hitting the road soon. He’d indicated he wasn’t thinking about racing right now, but everyone needed a break sometimes. No matter what he’d said, he’d probably just temporarily hit the pause button on his life. It was in his blood too much for him to not go back.
Wasn’t it?
We’d have to work out visitation schedules and child support and so many other things.
At least not today.
Lord, there were so many kinds of diapers. How was a person supposed to know which to pick? I didn’t even know if I was having a girl or boy yet, but they had certain patterns for wetness and diapers suited for each.
The world of parenting was a vast, terrifying place, and I had no handbook.
While my sister and her girl crew were squealing over tiny shoes and sandals, I leaped upon my version of the Holy Grail.
