by Kim Linwood
That gives me time to get ready, find some sort of excuse to leave the house, and then go pick Evie up at the airport. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I can do this. I survived Gino’s, and I made it through dinner last night without throwing up or spilling my secret. A few more hours won’t kill me.
I pull my hair up into a messy ponytail, teasing my roots to get maximum volume. Sparkly gold hoops hang from my ears, and a cross rests between my breasts, shining against my forest green angora sweater. Black tights under a black leather skirt, and smoky eyes with blood red lips complete a look that hopefully screams self-confidence, something I’m struggling to feel right now. With one last glance at the mirror, I leave my room.
Montana sits outside my father’s office, reading the paper. His eyes track me as I walk past without acknowledging him. He nods at me, but I can’t meet his gaze or the kernel of guilt I’m feeling will blossom into a full-fledged attack of conscience. There will be a time for the truth, but now isn’t it.
My mother steps out of the office and stops suddenly, looking me over with barely concealed frustration. “I see you’ve decided to get over yourself.”
“Did you doubt that I’d put my family first? Some things are more important than what I want.” Too bad for her, she isn’t the family I’m worried about right now. Even if she knew about the baby, I don’t think she’d understand putting my own child first, but I refuse to turn into my mother.
“Good.” Her lips draw into a thin line. The words are what she wants to hear, but I can see my sudden change of heart makes her suspicious. “We can arrange another meeting with Marco as soon as possible.”
“Not yet.” I gesture up at my hair. “I haven’t been to the salon in over a month.” She tsks and it’s all I can do not to roll my eyes. Not wanting to marry a stranger my mother doesn’t understand, but not wanting to see him with split ends, that she’ll agree with. “Is Franco around? I’m sure Lena will see me on short notice.”
“Take him.” She flicks her fingers towards Montana. “That’s what he’s here for.”
“Fine.” I chance a look, and find him watching me with an intensity bordering on the physical. “Oh, and we’ll have to go to the airport. Evie is coming to help me plan for the wedding.”
“Andrea—”
“One friend, that’s all I’m asking.” For now. Evie’s never been my mother’s ideal choice for my best friend, but she’s been thoroughly checked and watched for as long as we’ve been close. There’s no way Mom will deny me this if she thinks it will get me to behave.
“Alright, but don’t make me regret this.”
My smile is the only answer she’s getting from me.
“Come on, Caporossi.” I glance at Montana before continuing on into the front hall to grab my coat and boots.
Life is spinning out of control, and I have no idea what I’m doing, but this pregnancy has actually woken me up. It’s not just about me anymore. I need to figure out what to do, and that isn’t going to happen while I’m holed up in my room feeling sorry for myself.
We get into the car, and Montana turns to me. “Address?” I give it to him, and he plugs it into the GPS before pulling out of our drive without another word.
I want to talk to him, but there’s so much to say, and none of it comes easily. Instead, looking out the window as he drives me to the doctor, I’m reminded of something completely different. “I used to be in charge of directions when I was a kid. We have a house on Lake Geneva, and Dad and I used to drive there on the weekends.”
“He didn’t know the way?”
“Of course he… you know, I never thought about that.” I laugh at being twenty-two and still falling for my father’s trick. “I guess giving me the map to pay attention to kept me busy. God, I really loved it there. It was like a whole other life.”
“Just you and your dad?”
“Pretty much. Mom had it redecorated every few years, but that was about as much time as she wanted to spend there. I doubt they’ve been there since I left for college.”
“Nobody has everything, do they?” Montana asks softly, probably not expecting an answer.
“What do you mean?”
He hesitates before answering. “I always wondered what it would be like to grow up with a father, but my mother was amazing. I can’t imagine not having that.”
“Mine wasn’t always like this, I don’t think. When I’m not around, she and my father are even pretty good together, but I’m like this big symbol of her failure that she can’t see past.”
“That’s fucked up. Giuseppe mostly just ignored me until I was old enough to work for the family. When I have kids, nothing’s going to keep me from being there for them.”
He’s watching the road and not even looking at me, but I can’t take my eyes off of him. Until this moment, I’d thought of him as the father of my little bean in an abstract sort of way, but not as a dad. Not as the guy who’d drive an hour across town to get to a softball game, or stay up at night drying the tears of his daughter’s broken heart.
Those big, strong hands would dwarf a tiny baby, but there would be no safer place to be. My crazy hormones kick in, and my throat closes up. I wipe away a tear before he notices my sudden mini-breakdown.
Will he ever get to do that? I’m making this up as I go, and the most important thing is to stay safe and not be the center of a new war between our families. Happily ever after might not be in the cards.
“Take a left here,” I squeak, my voice cracking. Is this what pregnancy means? Leaking at the drop of a hat over a man I’ve slept with all of once?
“But the GPS says—”
“Trust me. I know it looks farther on the map, but parking is easier over here.”
Twenty minutes later, we pull into the garage I told him to go to in the first place.
“Don’t say it,” Montana mutters.
“Told you so.”
“You don’t listen, do you?”
“I listen just as well as you do.”
“Touché.”
20
Andrea
“This isn’t a salon.” Montana hangs back, looking at the list of businesses in the building.
“What gave it away?”
I hunker down in my jacket, shivering at a sudden gust of chilly air as I pull open the door. My doctor’s office is on the third floor. I’ve been going here since I turned sixteen and refused to keep seeing my mother’s doctor, Dr. Creepy—actual name Kreper.
Montana grabs my arm. “Seriously, Andrea. What the hell are we doing here?”
“I’m fine. It’s just more girl stuff.” I shake off his hand and continue up the stairs. “If you’ve got a problem with it, you’re welcome to wait in the car.”
He steps in front of me when we get to my floor. “You think you can fuck with me because of what happened between us? Is that it?” I try to go around him, but his hand hits the wall, blocking me in. “You run so hot and cold I don’t know if I should feel sorry for you, or hand you over with a goddamn bow. They might need you, princess, but me? I’m just one of the extras.”
“This isn’t about you, okay?” I mentally add a few more Hail Marys to my next penance even if I won’t be confessing this particular sin of omission aloud. “It’s just a checkup.”
Montana’s expression stays dark. “It is about me when it’s my job to keep an eye on you, and every time that happens you twist it into a big fuck you to your family. How long you think they’re going put up with that before I’m gone?” I reach out for him, but he pulls away. “Do what you have to do.”
The distance between us suddenly feels much farther than the few feet that separates our bodies. It kills me, because he’s right. It is about him too. I just don’t know him well enough to trust him with this yet. Just because he might want kids someday doesn’t mean he wants them now. With me.
In the waiting room, he grabs an ancient copy of National Geographic and I go up to the window to let them know
I’m here. For once I don’t have to wait. The nurse takes me back for a quick blood sample, and by the time I’m done, the doctor is ready.
A brightly smiling Dr. Alston pushes open the door into the waiting room. As always, she’s wearing rainbow Crocs and white cotton scrubs. Over her left breast is a button of Lucy from Peanuts, captioned, “The Doctor is IN!”
“Andrea! I was surprised to see your name on my list.” She glances over at Montana who’s watching me suspiciously. “Is this—”
“He’s just my ride,” I blurt out before she unknowingly reveals too much.
Montana looks up curiously. “Huh? Am I what, now?”
“Nothing.” I spit it out too quickly, too obviously, but I'm a jittery bundle of nerves right now. Glaring hard at Dr. Alston, I try to convey that I do not want to discuss this anywhere that's not completely private. Hopefully, she gets it.
“No, seriously. Now I'm curious.” His lips widen into a smile. “I can't help it.”
“You just like hearing people talk about you,” I comment over my shoulder. “Now go find a seat, while I have a private discussion with the doctor.” If the heavy emphasis I put on private doesn't make it obvious to both Dr. Alston and Montana, they've hardly got a brain cell between them.
He shrugs. “Fine, fine. I get it.” Easing back into his chair, he finds his place in the magazine.
“Right. I thought maybe you’d bring… never mind.” Dr. Alston looks back and forth between us. “Just follow me back.”
She leads me down a hall with warm cream paint and faux-marble linoleum floors. The walls are covered in pictures of people. Old people, babies, children, families. One of the kids is getting a lollipop. Lucky girl. Those were the days.
Only girls who’ve been good get the lollipops, though.
The room is about as welcoming as an examination room can be. The exam table is on the far end, complete with white paper stretched along the length of it and stirrups at the end.
“Do I have to get changed?”
She shakes her head. “No, just have a seat for now while we wait for the blood test.”
I perch nervously on the edge of a scratchy green chair. “I don’t even know what to ask.”
Dr. Alston leans against her desk and pats my knee reassuringly. “You said on the phone that you think you’re pregnant? Did you take a test or is your period just late?”
“I took three, and my period is late.”
She laughs. “Congratulations.”
“Are they really that reliable?” I already know the answer, but somehow hearing it from my doctor will make it more real.
“Honey, a blood test is a little more sensitive in detecting early pregnancy, but if the home tests all came back positive, you’re pregnant. The sample we took when you came in is just a formality.”
“What do I do? I don’t take vitamins, and I hardly ever eat breakfast, and… Oh shit.” This past week has been a blur, but I clearly remember downing a whole tray of shots. “I got so drunk the other day. Can one night screw up a baby? I didn’t even know!”
I’m clearly not ready for a baby. I can barely handle my own life. My lip quivers and I stare down at my hands, feeling like I’m looking at someone else’s body. Someone who maybe shouldn’t be in charge of another human being.
My doctor crouches next to me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. “You’re fine, and your baby is fine. It’s very common for women to smoke, drink or eat things we normally tell them to avoid during pregnancy before they find out. Just do the best you can from here on out, okay? The human race would’ve died out long ago if babies weren’t resilient little critters. Do you know how far along you are?”
“About a month. Do you need to know the exact day?”
“Oh, it was like that, huh?” Dr. Alston takes my hand and squeezes. “I’m going to ask you a question, but remember that this is all up to you, alright?”
I nod.
“Do you… is this pregnancy something you’re sure you want?”
I nod, then shake my head. No. Sure is the last thing I’m feeling.
“Is the father in the picture?”
“Yeah, but it’s complicated.” Talk about a huge understatement.
One decision keeps me going down the road my parents have laid out for me, but would I be able to live with myself afterwards? The other leads into a murky future where nothing is certain except it will never be the same.
“Life tends to be. You don’t have to decide today, but the sooner you do, the easier this will be. I’ll give you a few things to read about what’s happening in your body, and what to expect. There’s a list of things to avoid, and I’ll have the nurse print out a prescription for prenatal vitamins if you want to start taking them, but you’ll be fine with over the counter ones as well, so long as they’re high in iron and folic acid. You’re young and healthy, so there isn’t much to worry about.”
Wouldn’t it be nice if that was true?
Stashing a pile of incriminating pamphlets and papers into my purse, I walk back out to the waiting room in a daze. Why does this feel like such a shock? I knew I was pregnant, but it all feels so real now.
At first I don’t see Montana, and I wonder if he gave up on me and took off. Then a tiny giggle catches my attention. He’s folded up double playing with a little girl at a table built for a toddler, not a giant. She’s racing a bead over a wire maze, and he’s chasing after her with his own, making car noises the whole way.
The mother is reading a magazine, occasionally looking up to check on her little girl. She sees me standing there staring at the two unlikely playmates and grins. “He’s a keeper. Thanks for letting me borrow him for a bit.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to deny being there with him, but then Montana raises his head and looks at me. The simple joy of playing with the child is still on his face for a moment before it vanishes into a sort of wary blankness. Knowing I’m the cause of it twists my heart painfully.
Could I take that from him? No, not without at least trying to make it work. Maybe it will even make some things simpler. There’s no way Marc will want to go forwards with this wedding if I’m already pregnant.
Montana turns back and says something to the girl. She frowns, but nods. He pries himself out of the tiny seat and tousles her hair which earns him a look of pure and utter adulation.
“Ready to go?” he asks. “We should probably head to the airport, unless you have a dentist appointment I don’t know about. Or maybe you’re getting a tattoo?”
I roll my eyes. “No, I’m all set.”
We’re almost out the door when the little girl runs up and tugs on Montana’s jeans. “Wait!”
He crouches, putting them more or less eye to eye. “What’s up, peanut?”
“Here, my mom said it was okay.” She looks back at her mother, then holds out a red lollipop. “They gave me a green one too and I like green better.”
Montana’s smile as he plucks the candy from her hand makes every female in the room fall a little bit in love with him, myself included. “Thank you very much.”
On the way down the stairs, he slips the lollipop into my hand.
I stop and stare at it. “What’s this for?”
His deep brown eyes search my face, and he brushes a stray strand of hair off my forehead. “I don’t know. I guess you just look like you could use it.”
“I thought you were mad at me,” I say quietly, still staring at the lollipop.
He sighs. “I keep trying to be, but it never seems to stick. Was everything okay with the doctor?”
I pop the candy into my mouth. It tastes like cheap sugar and red food dye, but is exactly what I need right now. “It’s going to be.”
Assuming we all live to see the end of this.
21
Montana
“Oh-oh, you know what I want? One of those iced coffee things. No, wait! That has caffeine, doesn’t it?” Andrea stops in the middle of the sidewalk. “Hey! Are yo
u listening to me?”
I scoop her up under the arms and move her to the side. “Sorry,” I apologize to the family behind us that almost runs her over with their luggage cart. “Let’s get inside and I’ll get you a decaf.”
Her nose wrinkles. “It’s not the same. What about a smoothie? That’s healthy, right?”
“Healthier, at least. Are you on a diet or something?” I haven’t let her go, but from the way she presses against me, she doesn’t seem to mind. Besides, I don’t want to lose the feel of her quite yet.
“Do you think I need to be?” Andrea turns her face up to look at me. “Do you prefer skinny?”
She doesn’t need half the makeup she’s wearing, but I can’t deny that she looks gorgeous. Those red lips are begging to be kissed. It’s almost enough to distract me from the minefield I just walked into.
I lower my mouth to her ear, breathing in the light, floral scent she’s wearing. “I think I’ve made my opinion on your curves pretty clear. Don’t you? Maybe I should remind you.”
Why I keep torturing myself with her I’m not sure. Whenever we’re apart I nearly manage to convince myself that there’s no point. That we’re both better off ignoring this thing between us because it’s the last thing either of us need.
But then she looks at me like she is right now, or says something I can feel all the way to my dick, or just… walks by in a skirt that hugs her ass so well it makes me jealous of a fucking piece of fabric.
“That would probably be a bad idea,” she whispers, still not pulling away. There’s a screen showing arrivals, and Andrea points. “That’s Evie.” It landed well over a half hour ago, but given the time it takes to get through all the customs and controls these days, we’re here at about the right time.
“Right.” I steer her into the airport, pushing through the damn crowd that never seems to go away no matter what time of day it is.
“This is going to sound bad, but could you…”
“Hm?”
Andrea pulls a plump lip into her mouth nervously. “Could you try to be a little less, mobster?”
