“Um,” Bill croaked. “I’m gonna go get another beer. You guys, um, need anything?” He looked between the two of us and stood.
I held up an empty Newcastle.
“No, thanks,” Catherine said.
“Right. Be back in a few.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
I shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe he’s still weirded out by the you-know-what?” As far as lies go it sounded pretty plausible. I felt shitty for doing it, but I had no desire to confess I’d dropped the dime and broke my promise to her.
Satisfied, she gave my hand a squeeze.
CHAPTER 9
“Glen? Glen!”
“Yes, Dear.”
“Get ready to leave, sweetie. It’s getting late”
Once my mother was ready to leave, that was it; argument was an exercise in futility.
The sky had turned dark a while ago and the bugs started their chorus. Things turned out to be more pleasant than expected. Sure, plenty of laughs were had at my expense, mostly from embarrassing stories my mom spun, but it was all in fun. With the aid of a few beers, I’d joined in on the laughter. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.
Mom came in for a quick and fierce goodbye hug.
“C’mere, Baby Boy. I hope I didn’t embarrass you too much?” She held me tight then, poised on tip-toes, whispered in my ear. “And I’m sure you’re going to tell me what bug has crawled up all your asses. Sometime soon, I hope?” I tensed. “Yes, I noticed it. The three of you can’t hide shit from me.”
I kept my trap shut as she turned to Bill.
“Come here, studly.” She locked her fingers behind his neck and gave him a big kiss. “Nummy nummy. You take care of yourself. Be good, but not too good.”
“I gotta be who I gotta be, Beth. I’m too much man to be anything else.”
Mom laughed and smacked his ass one last time.
“And you,” she strutted over to Catherine with her arms outstretched, “are a doll, and don’t ever let anybody tell you any different, or they’ll have to deal with me.” They hugged. “I’m trusting you to take care of my Richard. You can do that, can’t you?”
Cat smiled. “I’ll make it my sole purpose in life, Beth.”
Glen shook hands with Bill, then me, before rushing to catch up to my mother. She chatted about something, arms flinging this way and that. If she didn’t take it easy on him, the thin, bald guy would end up in an early grave. I didn’t envy him trying to keep up with my mom.
Bill helped Catherine in the kitchen while I cleaned up the grill, and fifteen minutes later, I heard a car door slam, followed by the rumble of a high-tuned sports car and loud music. With a screech of tires, the car pulled out of the development.
Back in the apartment, Catherine stood rigidly at the sink, elbows locked, her palms on the counter. Her head hung low, looking into the sink as if studying the mating patterns of lemon-scented soap bubbles.
“Cat, did Bill just leave? Jerk didn’t say goodbye.”
With a snap of her head, Catherine turned and hurled a dish sponge at my face.
I ducked out of the way. The sponge missed my head by inches and hit the wall behind me with a wet splut.
“Hey! What was that for?”
“You told him,” she said. Her tone was venomous, her eyes smoldering. “I can’t believe it. Dammit, Rick, I can’t believe you fucking told him!”
That sneaky shit. So much for him keeping our conversation a secret. I vowed to tear him a new asshole once I got a hold of him.
“Look, Cat—”
“Why?” I felt the calm before the storm. Things were going to get ugly.
I shrugged and shook my head.
“Why?” she shouted.
“I don’t know why, Cat. I felt like I had to get it off my chest. And he’s my best friend.”
“And what am I? Don’t you give a shit about my feelings?”
“Of course I do. You know that.”
“You have a funny way of showing it.”
“How did this even come up?”
Cat uttered a short, mirthless laugh. “He said he knew about our,” she gestured air quotes, “‘situation,’ and that his father knows a guy if I wanted to get rid of it.”
That jerkoff.
“Okay,” I said. “I fucked up. I blabbed when I shouldn’t have, but still, it’s not like he wouldn’t have found out eventually anyway. You know how Bill is. He probably thought he was helping. I understand you’re bent out of shape, but aren’t you overreacting just a little bit?”
“Don’t tell me how I should and shouldn’t react, Ricky.”
I slowly walked to her and took her shoulders gently in my hands. She turned her head, avoiding eye contact.
“Look, Cat …”
“Stop, Ricky,” she said, shaking her head.
“I’m sorry I let the cat out of the bag. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Ricky …” She clamped her eyes tighter, her lower lip quivering.
“Whatever it is you decide, I’m behind you one hundred percent.”
Cat placed her arms between us, her hands on my chest. “Ricky, please.”
“It’s your decision.”
She shook her head faster, pushed my chest harder. “Stop.”
“I’ll be here either way, whether you want to keep our—”
“Stop!” She thrust her arms up, breaking my hold, and shoved me away. Her face was contorted. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks.
“Jesus, Cat. Why are you being so difficult?”
“Because I don’t know whose baby it is!”
The sentence floated in the kitchen and bounced off the walls, hitting my ears as if it had been said a thousand times.
Eventually I whispered, “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Say it again.”
Her voice trembled. “I don’t know which one of you is the father.”
The walls of my small kitchen closed in on me. The air felt suffocating despite the air conditioning.
“But … That doesn’t make any sense.”
Cat took a breath, her arms around her stomach. “I went online and found a conception calculator. It gave me a range of dates. The night we fooled around with Bill was smack dab in the middle.”
I staggered backward, almost tripping over my own two feet, until I ended up with my back against the wall, palms pressed tightly against it to keep myself from collapsing to the floor.
The baby. Not mine? The possibility made my head swim. I didn’t want to believe it. Couldn’t believe it.
My spread fingers turned into fists. “You knew about this for how long, and you’re just telling me now?”
“I wanted to tell you.”
“But you didn’t.”
She wiped at her tear-streaked face. “Are you still behind me one hundred percent?”
“I … I don’t know.”
“That’s what I thought. Fuck this.”
“What?”
“You hesitated, Rick. That tells me everything.”
She tore past me into the TV room.
I followed.
“Where are you going?” I said, more out of habit than anything else.
“Where do you think I’m going? Home. I’m sure as hell not staying here tonight. I can’t even look at you right now.”
She grabbed her purse and keys, ripped open the door. Before leaving, she turned to me, her eyes radiating anger and pain.
“I don’t need either of you, Ricky. I’ll do this on my own if I have to. I didn’t tell Bill, by the way. You can if you want. You seem to be good at that.”
Words hurt, and hers pierced my heart with the cold, alien sting of a knife to the chest.
As much as it pained me, as much as it turned my insides to jelly, I let her leave. I watched her turn her back on me and storm out of my apartment, impotent and unable to say or do a single damned thing.
I collapsed on my rundown couch with my head resting in my h
ands. The door shut behind me with a quiet clack that sounded like one thing.
Finality.
CHAPTER 10
I pounded on the door of Bill’s Plainsboro condo. For the entire half hour it took me to drive from my place in Lawrence, I entertained notions of what I’d do when I saw him, thought of what I’d say. Would I stare him down, expecting him to wilt under my withering gaze? Would I sucker punch him? Better yet, maybe I’d give him the ever-dramatic backhand to the mush. I was pissed beyond measure. I’d nearly slipped on the sponge Cat threw at me the night before. That dumb, innocuous sponge served as a gritty reminder of the bombshell that blew up my life.
But why was I so angry at Bill? Truth be told, part of me felt that if he’d kept his mouth shut none of this would have happened, that I’d move along in ignorant bliss thinking the baby was mine and dealing with it accordingly. Cat had said she wanted to tell me that it may not be mine, but I wasn’t so sure.
I wasn’t so sure of anything.
Three minutes of straight knocking later, I heard some rustling from inside and a muted “Yeah, yeah. I’m coming.”
Bill opened the door, wearing boxers and a scowl. His hair stood on end.
He rubbed his eyes. “Rick? It’s eight-thirty in the morning, man. What’re you doing here? You know I sleep in on Saturdays.”
“You,” I poked him in the chest, “are a fucking dick.”
The building had been in the process of waking up, and one of Bill’s neighbors, a short, fat man from two doors down looked at me through dirty glasses as he picked up his Times. It wasn’t a pleasant look, but I didn’t care.
“What the shit are you looking at?” I yelled at Neighbor Guy. “Can’t you see I’m having a dialogue with my friend here?” The man jumped, fumbled his newspaper, and ran into his apartment, slamming the door behind him.
Bill was too surprised and sleepy to speak. I shoved my way into his condo, giving him a solid shoulder check for good measure. He scoped out the breezeway in either direction then closed the door.
“Jesus Christ, Rick. What the hell are you doing?”
“I thought we were friends, Bill.” He stood, red-faced and fuming. Bill could pound me into the ground like a railroad spike straight out of Looney Tunes, but my anger blocked out all concern for my personal safety. “I thought you could keep a secret. What I told you about the pregnancy was said in confidence. You know, like a non-disclosure agreement? You get that, don’t you, Mr. Wannabe Gordon Gecko? But noooo. Big mouthed Bill had to go and run his mouth.” I flopped onto his recliner.
He ran a hand through his nappy hair and sat down across from me.
“I was only trying to help.”
I had to laugh. “Helpful would have been keeping your pie hole shut.”
“Come on, man. A kid? Which one of us is ready for that?”
“What makes you an expert on what I’m ready for or not? Don’t project your bullshit onto me, man.” Puffing out my chest, I laid on my best Bill voice. “Hey, I’m only twenty-three. I don’t want kids. Ever.”
Bill launched himself out of his seat, two hundred-forty pounds of coiled muscle and agitation.
“Fucking A right I don’t want kids,” he seethed. “I have sack enough to admit it, too, unlike you who think you’re some kind of world beater.” His chest heaved as he stared me down. Bill was close enough to reach out and snap my neck like a chicken’s. “Shit, Rick,” he sighed. “My dad didn’t want kids, but my mom forced him into it. No matter what I did, football, school, work, it was never good enough. I was always just a nuisance to him. Sure, he puts on a good front for people, but it’s a crock of shit. I know how he really feels. It drove him and my mom apart. I don’t want you and Cat to go through that, and I wouldn’t wish that kind of shit on any kid’s shoulders. Other than my mom, you and Cat are the closest thing to family I’ve got, and I wanted her to know I’m willing to help in any way possible.”
“Any way possible, huh?”
“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”
“Even if it’s yours?”
Bill stopped breathing as the void of silence swelled throughout the room.
“What are you talking about?”
“Just what I said.” I sat forward. “That’s why she was so pissed, Bill. She has no idea which one of us is the father.”
“You’re kidding,” he said, his voice high and squeaky.
“Do I look like I’m kidding? She used one of those conception calculator things online. The night we all screwed around came up as one of the possible dates.”
Bill landed hard in the recliner opposite me, glazed-over eyes staring at nothing. Eventually he covered his face with his hands.
“Oh my God. I can’t believe this.”
That made two of us. “I don’t want to believe it either, but it’s the truth. Apparently, we weren’t careful enough.”
“This is in-freaking-sane.”
“I told her I’d be there for her one hundred percent. Then she dropped all this on me out of the blue. When she asked if I’d still be there for her, I couldn’t make up my mind, so she left.”
His eyes met mine. “She left you, left you?”
“I don’t know, man. I just don’t. I don’t know whether I’m coming or going.”
“Holy shit. Holy shit.”
“Still sure about paying for that abortion?”
Bill said nothing.
“That’s what I thought. Easy to say when you think you’re not involved.” I stood to leave. “I have to go.”
“What happens now?”
I paused, my hand on the doorknob. “No idea. I still want to be with her, but this changes everything. It’s her decision.” I shook my head. “I have a lot of thinking to do, but I’m not sure things’ll ever be the same after this no matter what happens.”
“Things?”
“Anything. Everything.”
“Okay.”
“I want to know one thing, Bill.”
“What?”
“If it pans out that this baby’s not mine, are you going to step up and do the right thing? Even if by some miracle Cat and I are still together?”
He paused. “I can’t tell you that and be honest about it, Rick. A kid. Jesus. I’ll have to cross that bridge if we get to it. That’s the best I can do right now.”
I nodded, not bothering to look back.
A sudden wave of sadness came over me as I stepped out the door. All of the bluster and anger dissipated, leaving me hollow inside. I couldn’t help but think that I’d just lost my best friend and a future with a great woman simply because of a bad combination of hormones, booze, and thoughtlessness.
CHAPTER 11
“Jesus Christmas, Richard. You’ve gotten yourself into a bit of a pickle, haven’t you?”
That about sums it up, Mom.
Still reeling from the episode at Bill’s, I’d plopped on the couch as soon as I’d gotten home and stared at the phone while the TV belted out white noise about a great new product I had to have lest I die unfulfilled.
An old co-worker of mine had once called me a ‘puker.’ What is a puker? In this case, it has nothing to do with an eating disorder or problems with one’s digestive system. A puker is a person who can’t keep things pent up. Pukers feel a compelling need to get their troubles off their chest. I’ve been a proud puker all my life, as evidenced by what I’d told Bill after being asked not to. Note I haven’t said this specific personality trait is always a good thing, but it’s served me well in life … for the most part.
Despite the lethargy that weighed me down, the impulse to pick up the phone and call my mom was overwhelming.
So that’s what I did the next day. I relayed the entire litany of stupid to her. She didn’t interrupt once, having experienced similar episodes over the years.
God bless her.
“Richard,” she said once I’d finished puking. “Do you love her?”
“Yep. I think it’s terminal. No cure fo
r what I got.” I loved Catherine Maddox, no doubt. Even before the pregnancy scare, I knew it.
“Good. I’m happy to hear it and I’m thrilled for you. You know I’m no saint, and I won’t judge you.” A pause. “But …” Here it comes. “You do realize this is a complicated situation you’ve created for yourselves.”
I sighed. “Yeah, I know.”
“Now, I’m going to ask you a very important question, the most important one of all. Even if the baby isn’t yours, God forbid, would you still want to be with Catherine? It’s easy to say, but you have to truly mean it.”
I thought about that question long and hard, had been ever since Catherine told me. “Yeah, I think so.”
“You think so?”
“I’m still thinking about it.”
“I see. Richard, it’s obvious she cares about you a lot. It’s as plain as the unibrow on your forehead—”
“Um, thanks, Mom.”
“—and regardless of the tension between you two during the picnic, I could tell how close you are. Can you blame her for how she reacted? She’s obviously scared, confused. But she’s an intelligent, sweet woman, and you seem perfect for each other.”
I could hear the smile in her voice and I felt that much better for it.
“You picked up all that in just a few hours, did you?”
“Was there ever any doubt? I notice these things, you know.”
“There’s no fooling you.”
“You bet your ass there isn’t and don’t you forget it either. Time is what’s important now. It’s so much to deal with at once. The pregnancy, the … unique circumstances. Her pot’s ready to boil over, Richard.”
“That’s why I haven’t reached out to her yet. It’s not that I don’t care, you know that’s not why. I feel like I let her down, but I’m afraid that if I nag her, I’ll end up pushing her farther away.”
“Wrong.”
“What?”
She blew out an exaggerated sigh. “You men and your rules. Why is it you’re so afraid to tell women how you feel?”
“She knows how I feel. I told her I loved her.”
“And when was that, Richard?”
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