His Wonder Baby: A Miracle Baby Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  And I hate myself every day, just a little bit, for being such a fucking pussy.

  I sit down at the edge of the rocks, legs straight out in front of me, knee aching, and I pretend like my best friend doesn’t hate my guts.

  5

  Addie

  I thought I was in a dream. I was sitting in our spot, thinking about him actually, about that time we shot bottle rockets off the falls and into the river below.

  They exploded with little cracks, audible over the rushing water. We’d laugh every time, even though it wasn’t that exciting. We were probably sixteen when we did that, although I feel like we were even younger.

  Those were easy days. I still had that nostalgic glow when he called my name and lowered himself down onto the rock.

  The hate didn’t come back right away. I forgot about what happened between us, at lest for a second. Will was standing there, looking like his old self, handsome and boyish and cocky and perfect, smiling at me like he used to. Him and I, alone in our spot near the falls, just like old times.

  The anger came back, and I got out of there as fast as I could.

  That was two days ago. I haven’t stopped thinking about him since. I clench my fists as Cara plays at me feet. I’m leaning back against the couch and staring at the TV, but not really watching it.

  “What’re your plans for today?” Eleanor’s voice calls from the kitchen.

  “None,” I call back, sitting up. “Just watching Cara.”

  “Have time for a little get together?” Eleanor walks into the room and looks at me with a smile.

  I narrow my eyes. “Get together?”

  “Sure, just some people coming over for tea.”

  “Tea? Since when did we serve tea?”

  “Oh, stop.” She’s smiling too sweetly, and I’m suspicious, but Cara starts tugging at my pants.

  “Okay, yeah, sure,” I say to Eleanor as I get down onto the floor to play with Cara. “I’ll be around. Tea sounds great.”

  “Wonderful.” She disappears back into the kitchen.

  I play with Cara for a couple more hours until it’s time for her nap. She’s sleepy when I get her upstairs and start reading her book. Julissa’s off today, which is good. I feel too spoiled when she’s around. I love the help, but I love being a mom, too.

  Cara gets snuggled and I kiss her on the forehead before turning toward the hallway. I hear the doorbell downstairs as I use the bathroom, and the sound of Eleanor welcoming someone filters up. There’s a male voice with her, but I don’t recognize it, maybe because I’m too distracted thinking about Will. I finish up, wash my hands, and head downstairs. I don’t know who Eleanor’s invited over for tea, but I know I’m going to be expected to sit around and make small talk for an hour or more, probably with some old guy she knows from a million years ago.

  I get down the steps, taking my time, and poke my head into the kitchen. I stop short when I spot Will sitting at the table with Eleanor, both of them smiling at each other. His back is to me, but Eleanor spots me right away. I’m about to turn and run when she speaks up.

  “Ah, there she is.”

  I turn back to them, looking sheepish. Will’s grinning at me like he knows I was trying to escape.

  “Hey Addie,” he says. “Eleanor invited me over.”

  “I see that,” I say, trying to smile back. “How nice.”

  “Yes, how nice,” Eleanor repeats. “This boy was a fixture in our house for years and it’s about time he visits me.”

  “Sorry I didn’t come sooner,” he says to her.

  “Don’t mention it,” Eleanor says, waving him off. “Come over here, Addie dear, join us.”

  I glare at her behind Will’s back and her sweet smile suggests that she doesn’t give a crap if I’m angry. I sit down at the table and look between them, completely unwilling to start this conversation.

  “So, Will dear, I hear you were off playing hockey.”

  “That’s right,” he says. “In Russia.”

  “Russia?” She raises an eyebrow. “Do you speak it at all?”

  “Da, nemnogo. No ya ne govoryu khorosho.”

  Eleanor laughs, delighted. “What did you say?”

  “I said, I speak it a little bit, but I don’t speak it well. Actually, my team manager told me that I sound like a dog getting strangled one time, and I should avoid interviews in Russian.”

  I can’t help but laugh at that one, and he grins at me.

  “He should’ve told you to avoid interviews in English too, what with that ugly mug,” I say to him.

  He laughs and Eleanor gives me a look. I just ignore her, smiling back at him. This is something we used to do, make fun of each other’s ugly mug. The joke just came tumbling out of me, totally unbidden, like it’s completely natural to fall back into old habits after all this time.

  “Yeah, well, my ugly mug was the most popular on my team until my knee exploded.”

  “What happened?” Eleanor asks him.

  “I was battling for the puck behind the net and this idiot goon lost his footing as he came over to help. Slid right into my knee, bashing it up against the wall all the wrong way. They had to drag me off the ice and I thought I’d never walk again.” He shrugs a little bit, still smiling. “At least I was wrong about that.”

  I wince. I remember watching him play at Notre Dame all the time. I used to sit thereo n the bleacher, ass freezing, terrified that he’ll get killed by one of those big players always trying to check him. But Will was fast and strong and could fight guys off if he needed to. That guy must have been huge if he broke Will like that.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Eleanor says softly. “It must be hard, being unable to play.”

  Will’s face goes blank for a second as he looks down at the table. “Yeah, it’s tough,” he says, and looks back up. “But who knows. Maybe I’ll heal.”

  “Of course,” Eleanor says softly. “You’ll be back on skates soon enough.”

  Will’s face doesn’t inspire much hope in me, though, ad I remember how slow he was when he climbed down that last step out on the rocks. He wasn’t putting any weight on that knee, and I could tell it was bothering him, even then.

  “Well,” Eleanor says after a brief pause. “You’re here for tea, so let me go make some. How do you take it?”

  “How ever you make it,” he says, grinning. “I don’t know much about tea.”

  “I’ll surprise you then.” She winks at him and gets up, leaving me alone at the table.

  I look at him for a second and he smiles at me. I want to say something, hell, I want to yell at him. I want to drag it all out into the open and tear him a new asshole, beause he deserves it.

  He took the best friendship, hell, the best relationship I’ve ever had and he thre wit away for one night of pussy. He used me, and I hated him for it.

  Except it doesn’t sting so much, seeing him now. He does look a little older, now that we’re sitting so close. His smile isn’t so easy and his hair’s a little shorter.

  “What have you been up to?” he asks me a little awkwardly.

  “Not much,” I say, which is true.

  “Where are you working?”

  I glance at Eleanor and I can tell she’s stifling a smile. “Nowhere right now,” I say.

  “Oh, cool.” His smile seems genuine. “Must be nice. I beat Eleanor’s sick of you.”

  “Yes, she is,” Eleanor says from the stove.

  “Ignore her,” I say. “She loves having me around the house.”

  “How could she not?” Will asks. “You’re delightful.”

  “Exactly.” I make a face at Eleanor. “See, Will knows I’m great company.”

  “Yes, dear, of course you are. Wonderful company. Most of the time.”

  Will laughs and looks over his shoulder at Eleanor. “She’s not still taking those four-hour long showers, is she?”

  “Oh god,” I groan.

  Eleanor laughs. “Not anymore,” she says. “We got
her down to two.”

  “I do not take two hours in the shower,” I say. “And I definitely never took four.”

  “I remember one night, we were going to the movies,” he says to Eleanor, ignoring me. “I swear, I sat down in this kitchen for like forty minutes waiting for her to finish showering, and she’d already been in there an hour before I got here.”

  Eleanor laughs and I wish I could run away all over again.

  “Time is tighter these days,” Eleanor says. “Ever since Addie became a—”

  “Okay,” I say loudly, cutting her off. “That’s enough.”

  Eleanor gives me a look. “I was just saying, ever since—”

  “I know, I know,” I say loudly again. “I understand. Will doesn’t need to hear about that.”

  Will raises an eyebrow, smiling uncertainly. “Hear about what?”

  Eleanor pauses and I can see her reading the situation. Quickly she smiles. “Nothing, dear,” she says. “Just teasing poor Addie here.”

  “Ah,” he says, not buying it. “I’m sure she gets enough of that normally, right, Addie?”

  “Sure,” I say, not able to meet his gaze.

  Eleanor comes over with a teapot and cups a minute later. I’m squirming in my seat as she serves agonizingly slow. I want to get this over with so I can get the hell out of here. I’m terrified Eleanor’s going to spill my little secret and ruin all of this for me.

  Will doesn’t know about Cara. He doesn’t now that I’m a mother. And I never told Eleanor that he’s the father, and I definitely never told her that I don’t want him to know.

  I suspect that she just figured it out, though.

  “How’s your father, Will?” Eleanor asks him.

  “Fine,” he says. “Still working hard.”

  “Not too hard?”

  “Always too hard.”

  She laughs lightly. “I suppose it could be worse.”

  “It could,” he says, and glances at me. I know what that look means. It is.

  “Have you seen anyone from school since you’ve been back?” I ask him, changing the subject.

  He shakes his head. “Not yet. Only been home a few weeks now and it’s been… tough getting around.” He sips his tea and his eyes go wide. “Wow, Eleanor. This is delicious.”

  “Thank you,” she says, looking proud. “It’s my own special blend.”

  “I love it.” He takes another long sip and looks at me. “Have you kept in touch with anyone?”

  “Not really,” I admit. “I used to talk to Emily, you know, Rick’s girlfriend?”

  “I remember her,” he says. “Really nice girl. Always wore pink. I thought that was kind of weird.”

  “It was weird, wasn’t it?” I laugh a little, sipping my own tea. I’m used to it by now, but it is absolutely delicious. Eleanor takes great pride in this little blend, although I know that it’s just a mix of mint, black, and some jasmine.

  Will puts his cup down with a little clink, looking over my shoulder and into the living room, an odd smile on his face. “Who’s this?” he asks suddenly, and my whole world shuts down.

  I turn slowly and Cara’s peeping over the couch, a little smile on her face. I didn’t hear her wake up or come downstairs. She must have snuck around through the piano room while Eleanor was serving.

  “Ah, that’s little Cara,” Eleanor says, trying to cover it up.

  “Cara, you should be in bed,” I say, getting up.

  She shakes her head, still smiling.

  “Come on, honey,” I say going over and scooping her up. “Sorry, Will. I’ll see you some other time, okay?”

  He doesn’t respond. He’s staring at Cara, his eyes a little wide. I hold her there for a second, suspended between two worlds. My whole body feels like it’s on fire and I can’t move, like my feet are nailed to the floor. My heart’s pounding in my ears and Cara’s clinging to me too tight. I feel like I can’t breathe.

  “Yeah, I’ll see you another time,” Will says softly, like he’s in a daze.

  I turn stiffly and walk away, up through the piano room and across the hall. I head up the stairs again, Cara in my arms.

  That was my nightmare. That was everything I didn’t want. I never wanted Will to find out about Cara, let alone in my own house, with me holding her. There’s no way he’ll miss how similar we look.

  As I put Cara down in bed, I get a close look at her jaw, her nose, her eyes, and they resemble Will so much that it’s almost painful. She looks like me, but she looks more like her father. And I have to hope that he won’t realize.

  I just have to hope that he didn’t notice. I read Cara another story while downstairs, Eleanor shows Will to the door. I can hear them talking softly before he leaves, the lock latching shut once he’s gone.

  I get Cara down again and leave her room. Eleanor stands at the bottom of the stairs, and the look she gives me, half sad and half apology, says everything she needs to say.

  I turn away from her and head to my room. I scream into my pillow for ten minutes before my body finally calms down enough to stay still.

  6

  Will

  I walk out onto the river path again, my walking stick in my hand, knee aching just a little bit. Addie’s up ahead, standing against a tree with her hands behind her back, watching me as I walk slowly toward her.

  We used to meet here all the time, back in the day. We’d hike through the woods together, heading up to our spot, or we’d just keep walking until we got tired and turned around. I doubt we’ll get far today, though.

  I didn’t expect her to agree this. I figured she’d ghost me again like she has been lately, but after seeing that little girl, I couldn’t help myself. I had to talk to her again.

  It was the look she gave me as she picked the girl up. It was haunted, horrified, but also somehow relieved. When she left the room, Eleanor leaned toward me with a sad little smile.

  “Well, cat’s out of the bag, I guess,” she said softly. “You should get going, if you don’t mind.”

  “Who was that?” I asked her, but Eleanor just smiles and shook her head.

  “You’re late,” Addie calls out as I approach. She pushes off the tree and comes down to meet me in the path.

  “I’m a gimp.” I stop and stretch my knee a little bit. “Don’t expect much from me today.”

  She eyes me a little bit. “You think I’m going easy on you?”

  I sigh. “Addie,” I say.

  “What? You never went easy on me.”

  I grin at her, not able to help myself. “You weren’t disabled.”

  She rolls her eyes. “You’re not disabled. Come on, Comrade. Let’s go.”

  I limp up next to her and we set out. I expect her to set a brutal pace, but instead it’s a nice, easy amble, well within my ability. We walk for a little bit together, not saying much. I ask about how Eleanor’s been doing, and Addie mostly talks about that, going on about all the different rich person functions her adopted mother gets involved with.

  “It’s like a rotating cast of the oldest, richest white people you’ll ever meet,” she says to me.

  “She always was like that,” I point out.

  “It’s gotten worse. Seriously Will, she just donated like fifty grand to a lizard sanctuary.” She stares at me. “A lizard sanctuary,” she repeats.

  “I didn’t know we had those in Connecticut.”

  “She found the only one, I’m sure.”

  I laugh and for a second, I forget that little girl back at Eleanor’s place. I forgot about the girl’s chin and nose and eyes, and how familiar she looked. I forget that she was the spitting image of Addie, mixed with someone I know but can’t place.

  We walk in silence for a few minutes, and I’m just enjoying Addie’s company. This feels so familiar and so intimate, even though it’s been a long time since we last did this. I think the last time we walked through Weston’s woods was back in the summer after Freshman year of college.

  That was the
last time I came home to stay in my father’s house. I can still hear his words ringing in my ears the day I left for school. “You think you’re going to go pro? Idiot fucking boy.”

  I take a deep breath and let it out. I’m not some kid anymore. I’m not the same guy that left here all those years ago.

  “So, you speak Russian, huh?” Addie gives me a sideways glance. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

  “I don’t,” I admit. “I’m honestly awful at it.”

  “Still, it’s pretty cool.”

  “Yeah I guess. It was a pain in the ass.”

  “Why?”

  “Russian lessons were early, even earlier than practice. I had to get my ass out of bed and go out into the freezing Russian winter just to learn a language that I was awful at.”

  “Sounds terrible,” she says. “At least you were playing.”

  “True,” I concede. Addie knows me better than anyone, and she knows that playing hockey is one of the few things that truly keeps me grounded. “I liked my teammates too. Especially this guy named Jardis.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “He was an asshole, but a really good guy. Helped me with my Russian sometimes. Mostly we just went out, drank vodka, and tried to meet girls.”

  She laughs a little. “You haven’t changed a bit, then.”

  “Pretty much.” I grin at her, although I feel like I’m a totally different person than I was back then.

  “What was it like, living over there?”

  “Weird,” I say. “I couldn’t read the signs, the food was different, the customs were different. Everything just was different.” I hesitate a second. “Except for the game.”

  She gives me a sad little smile. “You miss it already, don’t you?”

  “Yeah,” I say.

  “Think you’ll play again?”

  I wince a little. “Maybe.”

  She nods and doesn’t press. I think she knows what I really meant, which is, probably not.

  “Have you been back in Weston long?” I ask her, changing the subject.