by London James
I can almost see Ben, Daisy, or Briony rolling their eyes at me, asking why I avoid the complications of humans. I never want to answer that question.
I sit down in my huge desk chair and boot up my computer. My email comes up right away, and I see a new one from Nora.
I click with a sigh. I went with Dad to his appointment that Nora had mentioned a few weeks back, only to not find out anything. Dr. Cross basically shrugged and said that he still didn’t have any answers as to why Dad’s heart sometimes beat erratically or why his pain was so severe. He threw out diagnoses like fibromyalgia or chronic fatigue syndrome with a shrug like I had done when I Googled all of his symptoms. But I’m not a doctor, so I have an excuse for just guessing. Dad looked annoyed and told me he wanted to go to a different doctor right in front of Dr. Cross. He’s been through so many trying to get a diagnosis.
Since Nora and I discovered that Dad is keeping us both in the dark, we tried to coordinate our accounts of Dad’s condition. She has a full list of all the medications he’s tried—there are over 30, with quite a few heavy-duty painkillers in there—and I have copies of his medical bills. I don’t know what a lot of the tests were, but Ben is going to help me out.
Nothing new regarding your father’s condition. Nora’s email says.
I let out a slow breath. He has a different symptom every other week. It’s hard to keep track of what’s happening. I pull up a spreadsheet, where I’m piecing some things together from memory. Pain is the most common thing he suffers from, followed by weight loss, digestive problems, and breathing problems. The symptoms get worse the moment he starts to get better. It’s like he can’t catch a break.
I glance at my phone, debating whether to call Ben. He must still be in the office since he’s on email, but he doesn’t always answer chats right away. I shoot him a message anyway.
AshJK: Hey, have you had a chance to look at those test names I sent over?
The response bubble pops up right away.
BenMcA: Yeah, there’s a lot of shit here. Can I call you in 30ish? Your dad might be doctor shopping.
I open a new tab and look up what that means. Doctor shopping is when people go from doctor to doctor to either get the drug they want or the diagnosis they want to hear. I sit back in my seat. Dad does have some intense painkillers, but he doesn’t seem to have any addictive behaviors. Besides, Nora controls all of his medicine, and she hasn’t said anything about him asking for anything out of the ordinary.
I drum my fingers on my desk. None of this is adding up.
To kill time before Ben calls, I go outside with Sarge and play fetch. Chunk sits next to the window, eyeing us. He’s probably wondering where Briony is. Do cats miss their owners like dogs do?
I nibble on my thumbnail. Maybe Ben knows more about what Briony’s deal is. She talks to him a lot.
Ben calls a few minutes later.
“Hey, thanks for calling,” I say, coming back inside. I slide the door closed in Sarge’s face, so he won’t track dirt in, making him whine. Chunk glares at him through the glass.
“Hey. So yeah, your dad,” he starts. He sounds like he’s walking. “The tests he’s getting are random as hell. It doesn’t look like a doctor is looking at the results, then getting different tests based on what he knows. Or at least it doesn’t seem that way. It’s either that or your dad is going to shitty doctors who only want to make money.”
I sit down on the couch. “I mean, the doctors he’s going to are supposedly the best in the area. Maybe they’re connecting dots in an unusual way.”
“Maybe.” A siren blares in the background. “But if he’s getting all these medications, he might just be in it for the drugs.”
I roll the idea around in my head. I know addicts—it’s an unfortunate side effect that some people face when leaving the military. If they have PTSD, they might turn to drugs to numb the pain. But Dad doesn’t seem too dependent on the drugs he has, according to Nora, and isn’t big on substances in general. He hardly even drank when I was a kid. Then again, the painkillers are wildly addictive.
“So it seems like he’s genuinely sick, but his doctors aren’t helping him the way that they should.” I scratch at my beard stubble.
“Maybe. I don’t know, man,” he says. A car horn beeps over the sound of his voice, erasing whatever follows.
“What’d you say?”
“I was asking about Briony. How’s life as her roommate?” He says the words lightly, but I know he’s putting out feelers for anything being wrong.
“It’s fine. She’s with Zara in Westchester for the night. Do you know why?”
“No, she hasn’t really said anything to me lately. She mentioned she had some sort of virus, though.” The noise in the background quiets. “Has she seemed ok?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing. I told her to go to the doctor and she did, reluctantly. She didn’t update me, though.”
“Mmhm.” He pauses. “She tends to ignore her problems when she’s sick, so don’t take it personally. And everything’s good on the friend front?”
“You want to just come out and ask me if we’ve bitten each other’s heads off?”
He laughs. “Not really. But I worry about her, so can you blame me for asking?”
“I can’t blame you. But she’s fine, more or less. I don’t know. Nothing about her has set off my Spidey senses.”
Besides our whole relationship. If Ben is wary about how she’s doing without me mentioning that there’s drama between us, I don’t want to open that box of horrors. Yet another thing I’m pushing back in my mental queue.
“I guess. I know she’s safe from her place burning down at your house, knock on wood.” He’s the kind of guy who has to actually touch wood in order to kill his anxiety, so there’s a bit of shuffling on his end. “I’m about to be underground. I’ll talk to you later?”
“Sure thing. Thanks again.”
Chapter Eighteen
Briony
I’ve never felt so anxious in my life. Zara drives me back to Ash’s place after a few nights at her house. Well, ‘drives me back to Ash’s place’ is a nice way of saying ‘forced me into the car so I could just talk to Ash in person already, damn it.’
It might just be mental, but I feel like my womb already has weight to it. Instead of my nerves manifesting in my stomach, tension seems to bloom lower in my abdomen. Whatever the baby is up to in there, it’s probably the size of a chickpea or something. I don’t even want to think about how we would feel further along if I had an emotional breakdown. It’s weird, suddenly being a ‘we’ in one body, but already natural.
No one is home when I get in, not even Sarge, making the place feel cold and entirely empty. I go upstairs to clean up even more and pace around, looking at my phone to check the time. Ash is usually home a little after seven.
I sit down to watch TV, but I can’t absorb anything that’s happening. How will I tell him? I’ve only seen pregnancy reveals where everyone involved is totally on board. I can’t exactly put a positive test in a box and give it to him. Which would also be a little gross because it would have pee on it, but that isn’t the point.
I jump when the door opens, hearing both Ash and Sarge’s footsteps come in. Sarge must have heard me, because he sprints into the living room, jumping all over me and trying to lick my face. I pet him hard, getting the spots he really likes just next to his tail and behind his ears. His tail thumps my leg.
“Briony, hey,” Ash says, looking genuinely happy to see me. “I didn’t know you were coming back so soon.”
Just seeing him makes my heart ache in so many different ways. I missed him, even though I also want to punch him in the throat. And he looks even better after not seeing him for a few days. He’s so perfectly handsome like I dreamed him up. I’m crazy for him, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it. And I’ve been trying so hard in the days I was gone, but whenever I think of him, I just feel worse.
“What�
�s wrong? Are you feeling better?” he asks, coming to sit down next to me on the couch. Sarge wedges his way in between us, so there’s a good amount of distance between us.
“I’m pregnant,” I blurt.
The air changes immediately, like a storm appeared out of nowhere. The warmth in Ash’s expression goes cold, and his face slides into the neutral mask that he’s prone to wear. His body is just stiff enough to notice. I don’t want to look him in the eye, so I look down at Sarge, so wonderfully oblivious to what’s happening. He rests his head on my lap and sighs like he’s had a hard day.
Neither of us say a word or make a move for literally two whole minutes, the gentle swish of cars driving by on wet concrete the only sound.
“It happened at Ben and Daisy’s engagement party, of course. My birth control didn’t work. It happens, but it’s really rare,” I continue, adding to the tension in the air. Ash still doesn’t say anything, staring at the coffee table. I take a deep breath. “I’m keeping it.”
He finally lets out a breath he’s been holding, but still doesn’t say anything.
“I mean, it isn’t the right time by any means, but I don’t know if I’ll get another chance.” I feel tears coming to my eyes. “I want to be a mom eventually, but I guess eventually is much sooner than I thought it would be.”
He still doesn’t say anything, and it’s infuriating. But I understand the absolute shock he must be in.
“It’ll probably take me a lot longer to get BloomBrightly off the ground.” For some reason, that’s what makes me finally cry. It’s like I finally got up a mountain only to realize that I have another whole peak to go. “But I would regret not having a kid more than I would regret not being a successful business owner, looking back at my life.”
Ash finally reacts, putting his head in his hands. “I don’t know what to say.”
I sniff, drying my eyes with the back of my hand. “I know that you weren’t even sure if you could date me without shit hitting the fan, and now we’re basically tied together for life.”
He flinches when I say that, the blood running out of his face. That only makes my tears come flowing out all over again. It’s too real, saying it out loud. My vision of the future has changed permanently, and now it involves Ash in a way that he clearly did not expect.
“I’m not expecting you to suddenly get psyched about being a parent, but I would really, really appreciate a little help financially,” I say quietly. “I’ll stay out of your life otherwise.”
“Briony…” He looks up at me. “I… don’t know what to say.”
“You already said that,” I reply, trying to lighten the tone a little bit.
“I need some air.” He stands up abruptly, jostling the dog out of his half-sleep. “Stay here. I just need to think.”
I nod, watching him leave the room. A few minutes later, I hear him leave, probably to go running. I sit back into the couch, not feeling the relief I expected from telling him. If anything, I feel a hell of a lot worse. He seems utterly devastated. I understand how he feels, but he isn’t the one carrying this kid. He doesn’t have to deal with the painful boobs or the barfing. And that’s just the start of it.
I’m probably not the first woman to resent a man for getting her pregnant, but I feel so damn alone.
I pick up my phone. Zara already knows everything. I want Ben to come swooping in to make things better like he did when we were kids. But telling him would mean wrecking his relationship with Ash, which Ash doesn’t deserve.
I dial Ben anyway—I can tell him without letting him know Ash is the father. Ben doesn’t know what my sex life is like, which he never needs to know in the first place. For all my brother knows, I could have a lot of potential fathers in line. He can’t know for sure.
“Sup, Lil’ B?” Ben says cheerfully, picking up on the third ring.
“Um, do you have a second?” I ask.
“I will in a few moments. Why? You sound shitty. Did you ever go to the doctor like Ash asked?” I hear shuffling on his end of the line. He’s probably at home, based on the time and the lack of noise in the background. His office is usually loud long after official work hours end because he likes to blast music while he works. “Okay, my seconds are free.”
“I’m pregnant, and I’m pretty terrified right now,” I whisper.
He pauses, then laughs nervously. “Wait, what? Is this a weird prank?”
“N-no,” I say, also laughing for a reason I can’t pinpoint. Nerves? Has my body hit its crying quota for the year? I’m surprised I still have any fluid in my body. That reminds me that I need to drink more water.
“Holy fuck,” he says loudly. “Who… what? When did you find out? Do Mom and Dad know? Who’s the father?”
“I found out a few days ago. Mom and Dad don’t know, and for the love of God, don’t tell them. They’d shit bricks.”
“They’re going to know eventually if you go through with it. I know that this definitely wasn’t planned, but they want grandkids really badly.” He huffs for a moment. “They won’t get off my ass about it.”
“I know.” I take a deep breath.
“Do you want to go through with it?” he asks, his voice going gentle. “Wait, where are you? Do you want me to pick you up?”
I think about it. Ben and Daisy’s apartment is nice and cozy, but I have the feeling Ben would interrogate me into spilling that Ash is the father.
“I’m fine. And yes, I’m going through with it. I want to be a mom. I didn’t anticipate being a single one.” I slump over sideways, and Sarge follows me, tucking himself against my body and looking up at me with his big, dark eyes. I pet him. Dogs are a gift.
“Do you know who the dad is?” he asks again, tentatively. “I don’t want to pry into your private life, but if you do know who he is, does he know that you’re… you know. Pregnant?”
He says ‘pregnant’ like he’s swearing in a church. Which he did once when we were kids, and he felt extraordinarily guilty about it for years.
“I don’t know anything,” I say. Thank god we aren’t video chatting, or he would be able to tell that I’m flat-out lying to him.
“Shit, B.” I hear him opening and closing cabinets. “Do you want to talk to Daisy? I’m sure she can help with the psychological part.”
“I think I need a minute to myself before I do that,” I say, sighing. “I just wanted to tell you, since it was weighing on me.”
“If you need anything at all, call me, and I’ll drop everything. I’ll take you to any doctor’s appointments or whatever you need to do, ok? If you need me to find the dad and kick his ass, I’ll do that, too.”
I laugh. There’s exactly zero chance of Ben beating Ash in a fight. Ben is in shape, but the muscles are purely for vanity. I doubt that he’s ever been hit in the face by a grown man before either. But when he gets pissed off, he can turn into the Hulk in half a second. I have the feeling that learning Ash is the father would turn him into the Hulk faster than I could tell him to calm down. Their fighting would probably destroy a city block like in the superhero movies.
“Thank you, Big B,” I say, genuinely feeling like a little bit of weight is lifting off my shoulders. If he’s in my corner, so is Daisy. So I at least have them and Zara. It won’t be a traditional family by any means, but I won’t have to deal with this all on my own.
“I’ll be the best uncle too, by the way. If you were wondering.” I can hear a little smile in his voice. “I’m gonna spoil the shit out of him.”
“How do you know it’s a boy?” I can hardly think about what sex the baby would be. It still feels a little abstract.
“Just a gut feeling mixed with my desire to teach a kid some sports like some TV dad. I’ll spoil the kid no matter what,” he says. “Take care of yourself, ok?”
“I will. Love you.”
“Love you too.” And he hangs up.
I pull Sarge up into my arms and make kissy sounds so Chunk will at least come closer to me. Chunk cle
arly doesn’t know I’m under duress because he stays put in his spot across the room.
I stay there watching a little TV for an hour until Ash comes back. He doesn’t come in to talk to me immediately; he takes a long shower, then eventually comes back into the room, holding a beer. He still looks pale as he sits in the chair adjacent to the couch. The distance stings.
“I’ll pay all the child support you need and more,” he finally speaks, his voice gravelly. “But I don’t know if I can be a father.”
My heart sinks, even though that’s the response I expected. He looks more scared than I’ve ever seen him look.
“It’s like all the reasons why I can’t be with you, doubled,” he continues. “I’m not the family type, and I don’t know if I could be the guy you’d want to raise a child with. It would end badly for everyone involved. I’m terrified of becoming like my own dad.”
I nod, letting a few tears silently roll down my cheeks. He’s full of shit on the second part. How can he not see that he’s a good guy underneath all of the bullshit he says he is? He said he was the kind of guy who couldn’t be a good boyfriend when in reality he’s treated me really well since my apartment fire. He’s been friends with Ben for more than half his life, which has to account for something. Obviously, a long-term friendship is different than a long-term romantic relationship, but he hasn’t abandoned Ben at any point, even when he was overseas.
His lack of confidence in his ability to adjust to bad circumstances feels in sharp contrast with his disciplined manner. He’s scared, just like I am, but he’s letting it take the wheel. It’s a massive disappointment, but so is the rest of this situation.
“I told Ben, by the way,” I say. His eyes go wide. “Not that you were the dad. Just that I’m pregnant. I think it might be best if I stayed with him and Daisy until Zara and I sign a new lease.”
He clears his throat. “I agree.”
We sit in silence again; the air still uncomfortably thick with emotion. So this is it? We won’t talk to each other unless it’s about him giving me money for our child? Our little friendship is being flushed down the toilet? But him seeing me grow bigger and bigger and dealing with preparing for the baby would be like pouring gasoline on a fire right in front of him.
