AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Adeline smiles, and it’s so genuine my heart hurts. I’ve had no sleep since she confirmed the news. I’m not sure I’m father material, and I really hope she doesn’t think I’m relationship material. Sure, I gave her my number last August, but that was only because I wanted her in my bed a second time.
“Damon, this is my mother, Marge.” Adeline holds her hand out to the woman who has an expression similar to what a guard dog might give an intruder. Her teeth aren’t showing or anything, but it’s clear she’s not happy with me or this entire situation. “She’s been coming to my appointments up until now.”
I would’ve been too, if Adeline had told me. After I left her last week and rolled over our conversation on the drive home, it was apparent to me that thanking her for not telling me about the pregnancy before now was probably a dick move. I should’ve wanted to know about my kid from the start. I should’ve wanted to read books on pregnancy. I should have wanted to be here, holding her hand for every appointment.
I hold my hand out to Marge. “Nice to meet you.”
She shakes my hand. “You as well.”
I worry that I’m already down by fifty points, and there’s two minutes left in the fourth quarter as far as she’s concerned. Plus, it doesn’t take much for people to find out about my reputation as a professional football player who doesn’t do relationships. I wouldn’t want that for my little girl either.
“Okay, well, let’s go in.” Adeline opens the door to the doctor’s office.
My eyes instantly scan the room. Only two other women are waiting. One has her head buried in an e-reader and the other in a magazine. Neither even look up when we enter.
Marge sits in a chair on the farthest side of the room by the window, crosses her legs, and stares at me. Good to know where we stand.
“I don’t think your mom likes me,” I whisper to Adeline when we reach the counter.
She tells the receptionist her name and hands her a credit card from her wallet.
The receptionist squints as if she’s trying to place me. Fuck, I’m going to need a shit-ton of NDAs. My dad’s going to be pissed I didn’t dole them out before walking my ass in here.
“My mom doesn’t know you,” Adeline says.
“Her scowl says she knowsofme.”
Adeline laughs, accepts her credit card back from the woman, and folds a piece of paper into threes while the woman tells us the doctor is running behind.
On our way back over to her mom, I lean in close. “How much?”
“How much what?” She puts the paper in her purse.
“How much has this cost you so far?”
“I have insurance.” She sits next to her mom, and I realize then that Marge took the seat in the middle of three vacant seats. My only option is to sit on the other side, next to her mom. “She said the doctor is running a few minutes late.”
I hate the fact she’s telling her mom that, and I’m right here. I don’t want to be a dick. I understand her mom has been here for the last six months and I haven’t, but it’s not because I didn’t want to be. I have a list of questions I want answered by either Adeline or the doctor, and her mom’s attitude toward me isn’t making this any easier.
“Marge, will you be coming in with us as well?” I ask, although I can guess the answer.
She looks at Adeline, who looks at me as though I’ve offended someone.
Holding up both hands, I say, “I didn’t know if there was a condition on how many could be in the room.”
“No. It’s fine for all three of us,” Adeline answers.
“So, Damon, how long of a trip was it out here for you this morning?” Marge asks.
“Not long.” I’m lying through my teeth, and she knows it. Chicago traffic is brutal. Although I thought the commute out of town wouldn’t be a problem, I was wrong. Seems both going in or out of the city is a nightmare to navigate in the morning.
“Oh, well that’s good.” Her tone doesn’t make it sound as though it’s good.
I sit in the chair, my elbows resting on my knees, waiting for Adeline’s name to be called because I can’t handle this threesome anymore.
The two other women waiting are called in by the nurses, and I relax a little.
“Must be hard,” Marge says, obviously seeing my visible relief at their absence.
