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Who’s the brave soldier who was able to cut through Stacy’s numerous defenses? Seeing as she was a considerable commitment-phobe in college, anyone who got this close to her must have some good qualities…or be a serious masochist.
“David,” said Jennie.
My mouth drops open. I look around the room for a moment, expecting the furniture to confirm and validate my shock.
“Nooo,” I say. “Are you serious?? David Marshall? Her sworn enemy David Marshall?”
“One in the same.”
“No. No way. There’s no way in hell that David is the father.”
“Yes!” she says like an excited gossip hound. “Believe me, I’m just as surprised as you are right now. It turns out there is a thin line between love and hate,” Jennie giggles, prompting me to chuckle as well.
“More like hate and lust,” I add.
Jennie agrees with a humming sort of chuckle.
“So, did you talk to Stacy? How did this happen?” I inquire more about her.
“Well, I ran into her yesterday, but we only talked for a second. From what she told me later on the phone, though. The pregnancy is an accident, but they decided to keep it.”
“Hmph, ‘they’ did, huh?” I say and Jennie chuckles.
“That’s what she says.”
I’m silent for a moment so my brain can process all of this information. Stacy’s behavior in getting herself into such a significant mess is so unlike the person I’d once known. Or, I don’t know. Maybe it is. Maybe this was the event she needed to make some serious changes. I guess time does change people.
“Well, I hope they do whatever is best for them,” I reply, genuinely hoping for the best for David and Stacy. I mean, all things considered, Stacy had been a good friend once upon a time.
“Yeah, me, too. But you know what? This got me thinking about what I would do if I were in Stacy’s position,” Jennie ponders while I hear something falling on the other end of the line, followed by a string of curses.
A laugh escapes me at that. “God save the child that has a mother like you.”
“Hey! I’d be a great mother,” Jennie scoffs, causing me to laugh harder.
“So, what would you do if you were in Stacy’s position?” I ask, my curiosity conjuring up images of Jennie as a mom but coming up empty-handed. She’d be fun, at least. I’ll give her that.
“Well, you know, I used to think that if I ever got pregnant, like, not on purpose, I’d get an abortion. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” I repeat.
“But, I mean, the more I think about it, the more I think maybe I might keep it.”
“What made you decide that?” I question, running my fingers over the rough textures of the dining table. I hear Jennie pause briefly as she formulates her thoughts.
“I don’t know, honestly. I just started thinking that maybe I might be all right with a kid. It’s not the very worse thing that could happen, right?”
“I guess,” I say noncommittally.
“What about you? Ever think about being a mom?”
“Me?” I laugh and lean back in the chair I’m sitting in. “No, I don’t want to be a mom. I decided that a long time ago. I’m not the kind of girl who wants to stay at home and chase after a kid. Not that I have anything against them. I just want a career first. That’s all.”
“But what if you did somehow end up in this kind of a predicament? What would you do then?” Jennie’s poking at me. She liked to pin me down with questions like this.
I think about it, imagining myself in Stacy’s position. No matter how hard I try, I can’t wrap my mind around it. I never gave children that much thought. I was always focused on my career.
“I don’t know,” I reply truthfully.
