Before Now (Sometimes Never)

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Before Now (Sometimes Never) Page 20

by Cheryl McIntyre


  I look at my phone. One more minute.

  One more minute and everything could change.

  I’m nineteen. Lucy’s only twenty. We’re too young to be parents. What about school? How do we finish school? We have to finish. Can’t get a good job without school. Can’t raise a kid without a good job.

  Maybe she doesn’t want to keep it. She’s adopted, maybe she’ll want to put it up for adoption. Maybe she’ll want an abortion.

  I bite my thumb nail as I watch her. She’s perched on the side of the bathtub, her eyes refusing to move anywhere near the counter where our future sits.

  A kid.

  There could be a kid—my kid—growing inside her right now. It could have her eyes and her lips. Her voice and her sweet personality.

  Would that really be so bad?

  But it’d have a part of me in it too. That can’t be good. Even if it were to be like her, I’d probably do something to screw it up.

  I look down at my phone again, tapping my foot. I stare at the numbers. “It’s time,” I choke out.

  Lucy’s chest rises as she takes a deep breath, but she doesn’t move in any other way. “What’s it say?”

  Fuck. She wants me to look?

  I step in front of the counter and pick up the box. I want to read the directions one more time. Okay…two lines means positive. One line is negative.

  I set the box down and pick up the test.

  And I just stare at it, trying to grasp one of the emotions rushing through me.

  “What’s it say?” she asks, her voice low.

  I blink. Check the box one more time and shake my head slowly. With a trembling hand, I hold it out to her.

  I’m going to be a fucking dad.

  37

  Lucy

  I’m going to be a mom. I knew it, but I couldn’t believe it. My hand automatically goes to my stomach. There’s a person inside of me. A teeny, tiny, little person.

  I hope he looks like Park. I hope he has his eyes and his hair.

  Oh, my God. I’m pregnant.

  I stare at the test as if it will change if I keep looking.

  “Okay,” I stammer. “Okay. This is probably the last thing you expected—or wanted to happen.” I take a deep breath, my eyes still focused on the small, plastic stick in my hand. “I’m not going to ask anything of you. You don’t have to be involved.”

  “What?” Park croaks. “What are you saying?”

  “It takes a lot of commitment to be a parent…” I flick my wrist, shaking the test. Maybe I should take another one. This could be faulty.

  “So you want to keep it?”

  Park’s words hit me and I lift my head to read the expression on his face, but it’s indecipherable. “I want to keep the baby,” I confirm.

  “And you don’t want me involved?”

  His dark eyes hold me in place as I try to express one of the many thoughts in my head. “I can’t make you be someone you’re not.”

  He takes a step backward and crosses his arms, his head dropping until his eyes are hidden from my view.

  “You don’t want me involved. Just say it, Lucy.”

  “That’s not it. That’s not it at all. I want you to be there every step of the way, but how can I trust that you’ll do that? I can’t have you take off on me again. Not with a baby in the picture. You can’t…you can’t do that to a child. You can’t just decide one day that you don’t want him.”

  I blink several times, trying to will the moisture away. I don’t know why I always tear up. I’ve heard pregnant women are even more emotional because their hormones get all out of whack. Great. Something to look forward to.

  “Jeremy’s mom was young when she had him. I don’t know all the details because my parents wouldn’t tell me everything, but from what I was told, she couldn’t handle the responsibility. She bounced him around from home to home, whoever would take him in for awhile. Eventually she ran out of people willing to help her out and when it came down to partying or Jeremy, she chose the party.”

  I take another deep breath and sigh. “He was five, Park. He remembers some of it. He remembers that his mom chose to give him up rather than give up her lifestyle. It took a long time…” I shake my head quickly and push my hair off my shoulder. “He still has a hard time with it. My mom has to constantly remind him that we want him. That we chose him.”

  “And you think that’ll be me?” His eyes are like weights bearing down on me.

  “It could be. You can’t blame me for thinking it.”

  “No, I can’t. I’ve given you every reason to think that about me.” He moves cautiously toward me before lowering himself to sit on the floor. “But I’m going to give you a reason to be certain that I’ll never do that to my kid.”

  My stomach tightens as he claims his child and I nearly launch myself at him. Instead, I slide off the tub’s edge and get comfortable beside him.

  “Guy, Hope, Chase, they’re the only ones that know about my family. I don’t really share personal shit about myself.”

  I laugh dryly—I can’t help it. His brows raise and I touch his hand. “Sorry. Go on.”

  “My dad’s come and gone in and out of my life so many times… It’s different, but I know how Jeremy feels. The whole: Why wasn’t I enough? What did I do wrong? What could I have done better? What could I have done to make him stay?

  “I know all that well.” He scoops my hand up, engulfing it in both of his. He stares down at my palm as his thumbs rub over my skin.

  “Dad’s been married…three times? I can’t remember for sure. And after every marriage, every girlfriend that doesn’t work out, he comes home.” He shakes his head and pulls his gaze up to meet mine. “Mom always takes him back because he’s my dad. Because she loves him. Because deep down he’s a good person. She has more excuses, I just can’t think of them all right now.

  “So he comes home, he’s my dad for a few months, and then he takes off again. I found out—that night I told you about, the night of the car accident—I found out he had another kid. A daughter. She’s older. I’ve never met her and until two years ago, I never knew she existed.

  “It wasn’t just us he was always leaving. He’d been doing it to her even longer.”

  “Park,” I whisper. I open my mouth again, to say something—anything to take away his pain, but I have no words. I crawl into his lap and wrap my arms around his neck. He pulls me in tight, burying his face into my hair.

  “I may not be good for a baby—hell, Lucy, I know I’m no good for you—but I’m going to try. I won’t abandon my kid.”

  “You’re good for me,” I say firmly. And he is. He isn’t a perfect man, but he’s perfect for me. “I swear I don’t love you one bit,” I say softly.

  He nods. “Not one single bit.”

  ***

  “Can I come in?” Bree asks as she hovers in the doorway.

  I nod and she settles beside me on the side of my bed. I’m still holding the test. I can’t stop looking at it. Her fingers wrap around my wrist. She pulls my arm toward her and reads the results.

  “I get to throw your baby shower. Your mom can help, but the planning is all mine.”

  I laugh, a quick burst of air from my chest that echoes off the walls. This is precisely why she’s my best friend. Without a shadow of a doubt, she knows I’ll keep this baby.

  “So…where’d Park go?”

  I shake my head and shrug at the same time. “He just said he had something he had to do.”

  “Is he freaking out?”

  I lie back, my feet hanging off the side of the bed. “Actually, I think he’s taking it really well. Possibly better than I am.”

  “Bullshit.” She leans back on her elbows so she can see me better. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. He’s obviously freaked out—I mean we’re talking about a human life and Park being responsible for said human life. He’s scared the same as I am. But he…” I turn my head and smile at her. “He wants to be the
re.”

  “And you trust him?” She cringes. “I’m sorry. As your best friend and godmother to your unborn baby, I have to ask.”

  “I trust him. I don’t know why, but I do. I believe him. I believe in him.”

  “You know, if someone had told me three months ago that you’d be having Park Reed’s love child, I would have punched them in the face, and then I would have rolled on the floor laughing.”

  I chuckle as I shift, staring up at the butterflies hanging from my ceiling. “I know, right? If anybody would’ve told me that I’d be having a baby—period. My mom is either going to be ecstatic or disown me.”

  “Mary’s cool. She’ll roll with the baby blow. Now your dad…he may hurt Park in ways that make it impossible for him to ever father another child.”

  Pressing my lips together, I nod at the ceiling. “That’s the honest to God truth.”

  “Mm-hm.” The silence stretches as the image of my dad chasing Park through the apartment fills my mind. Bree sits up and turns to face me. “Can I come with you when you tell them? And can I bring my camera?”

  38

  Park

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Hope,” I say into the phone. “It’s me.”

  “What’s up?” She says it lightly, but even after all this time, I recognize the slight tremor in her tone.

  “I wanted…” I take a deep breath and release it slowly as I try to focus my thoughts. “I needed to tell you that I understand. I didn’t get it before, but I get it now.”

  “I need you to be a little more specific,” she replies quietly.

  “You can love someone, hell, you can love a lot of someones, but when you find the right person—the one that you’re meant to be with—it’s like…”

  “You can breathe for the first time,” she finishes for me.

  “Yes.” I can’t help but smile. “I needed to find that to understand.”

  “And you have,” she says softly. “Lucy.”

  “Lucy,” I agree. “You forgave me for hurting you. I just wanted to do the same.”

  She’s quiet for a moment and I wonder if she heard me. “Thank you, Park. That means a lot. And I’m happy for you.”

  “Shit, Hope. Me too. I’m happy as hell.” I shake my head, still surprised that I can feel this way. “Do me a favor?”

  “Sure.”

  “Tell Mason I said it worked. And…tell him thanks.”

  “Okay,” she agrees. “I’ll talk to you later.” It comes out almost like she’s asking.

  “Yeah. Talk to you later.”

  ***

  I roll onto the bed and shake my head. “I can’t do it.”

  “Why?” Lucy’s delicate brows crinkle in confusion and I run my finger over them. She grabs my wrist, pulling my hand away from her face. “Why?” she repeats.

  I let my head fall back onto the pillow and sigh heavily. “What if I do something wrong?” I can’t look at her as I say it aloud, so I stare up at the swaying butterflies floating above our heads. “What if I poke it and hurt it.”

  Her burst of laughter causes me to narrow my eyes as I turn back to her.

  She pouts out her lips and I feel desire stir for her, but I ignore it. I’m not doing it. Ever since the doctor confirmed what we already knew, all I can think about is my dick jabbing my kid in the forehead over and over. How the hell do guys have sex with pregnant women? How is that shit not running through their heads every second?

  “You’re giving yourself an awful lot of credit, don’t you think?” One eyebrow arches as she regards me. “I mean, not once in the history of the world has a single unborn child been poked and hurt during sex, yet you think you’re capable of doing just that.”

  “Yes,” I hiss.

  “You know that the baby is surrounded by amniotic fluid, inside my uterus, right? And my uterus is completely protected by my closed cervix?”

  “I paid attention in health class, trust me,” I say. “So I also know that the cervix can dilate early and your water can break.”

  “Not this early.”

  “You can’t be sure,” I reply.

  She opens her mouth as she searches for an argument, her head shaking slowly from side to side. “The chances are so slim that both of those things would happen and I wouldn’t be aware of it.”

  That’s actually a valid point. She’d probably notice her water breaking at least.

  “And even if that did happen, I still don’t think you’d reach far enough to cause any damage.”

  I scoff at her. “Oh, I’d reach.”

  She eyes me with an unbelieving expression and shrugs her shoulders. “Okay, you’d reach.”

  “I would,” I insist.

  “What? I said you would.”

  “You said it, but you didn’t mean it. Don’t humor me.”

  “I think I was actually patronizing you,” she quips, her mouth twitching as she fights a smile.

  Damn it. She’s right. I tip my head, watching her for a moment. “Have you decided what you want to major in yet?”

  I catch her by surprise with the change in subject. The crease between her brows appears once again and I smooth it with my finger.

  “No.”

  “I think you should be an English major.”

  Lucy turns onto her side to face me, resting her cheek against her hand. “I’ve actually thought about that. It doesn’t really matter now though. I’ll probably just finish this semester and then go back whenever I can.”

  Whoa. Wait.

  “What? You can’t quit. I agree you’ll have to take a semester or two off, but you have to finish school.”

  She twists her hair and flings it over her shoulder. “Babies cost money, Park. I’m going to have to work. I was thinking I could be home with the baby during the day while you’re in classes and then I could work at night. I can try to work around your shows, and any shifts I can’t get around, I’ll have Bree babysit.”

  I rub my hands over my face roughly. “You have it all worked out.”

  “I’m working it out as I go.”

  “What if I stayed with it while you went to school? And if I picked up extra gigs you could just work on weekends or something.”

  “When would you go to school?”

  I shrug. “I wouldn’t.”

  Lucy sits up and glares at me. “You have to go to school.”

  I push myself up, mirroring her. “Why? Why do I have to go, but it’s okay for you to drop out? You’re farther in than I am. You’re throwing away more.”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it. It makes more sense for me to take the time off. I’m not on academic scholarship.”

  That pauses my retort. I close my mouth audibly.

  “Hope told me,” Lucy says quietly. “I can’t believe you think throwing away a scholarship is better than me taking time off when I’m going to need the time off anyway.” She puckers her lips and looks away. “You weren’t even going to tell me you have a free ride.”

  “It isn’t free. I worked my ass off for it.”

  She huffs out a dry laugh. “You’re just proving my point. I’m not letting you give it up.”

  I sigh. “I fucked up your life enough. I don’t want to take school away from you too.”

  “Hey,” she says harshly. “First of all, I was there too. I hold just as much responsibility for this pregnancy as you do. Secondly, you aren’t taking anything away from me. College will still be there when the time is right for me to go back. And third—it’s seriously messed up to say you fucked up my life. This baby isn’t fucking up my life. Yes, I was shocked and scared—I’m still scared, but I’m also happy. We’re having a baby. It’s not ideal. We didn’t do this anywhere close to how I always pictured it happening, but that doesn’t mean this is a bad thing. And when you say things like that, it makes me feel like you think you’re life is fucked up now because of me and the baby.”

  She inhales deeply and exhales with a large puff of air. I don’t thi
nk I’ve ever heard Lucy say “fuck” so many times in one rant. She’s really upset.

  “Okay,” I say calmly. “I don’t think you fucked up my life. Not at all. You make my life better. It’s just a lot of change and I’ve only had a week to adjust. I’ll get this right, Lucy. I’m going to make a lot of mistakes. I always will, but I’m trying.”

  “I know you are,” she agrees softly. “I know you are.”

  ***

  “You’re going to have to say that again, much slower this time,” Guy states as he sits heavily on the couch.

  “Lucy. Is. Pregnant,” I say clearly. “She’s almost eight weeks. She’s keeping it.”

  “Yours, right?” Chase asks as he leans back in the chair, resting his hands behind his head.

  I point at him, my eyes narrowing as I contemplate punching him in the throat. “Fuck you. You know it is.” He chuckles, dropping his hands to his knees.

  “Why do you keep calling the baby an ‘It’?” Guy asks.

  “What?”

  “‘It’. You keep referring to your baby as ‘It’. He. She. The baby. Any of those will work. ‘It’ is what people call animals and inanimate objects.”

  Shit. Have I been doing that?

  Son of a… I have.

  That’s kind of fucked up.

  “Shut up,” I reply. I pace in front of the coffee table, my hands on my hips. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. Okay? I need—I need someone to tell me what to do.”

  I watch Guy cross his arms in front of his chest and his cheeks lift as he smiles. “Dude, you’re going to choke. Daddy.”

  “Right?” Chase laughs in agreement. “You can’t even keep a girlfriend. If you can’t handle an adult, how in the hell do you think you’re going to handle a baby?” He sits forward and smacks the table. “Oh shit. You’re going to have to change diapers. Shit and piss. Baby puke.”

  “You guys are the shittiest friends, ever. I don’t know why I tried to have a serious conversation with either of you.”

 

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