by Magan Vernon
Great. Biker Santa would be my doctor.
“Hi, Dr. Stiller,” I said, letting go of his hand.
He scanned over the tablet and then set it down on the table before the bright-eyed nurse reappeared, closing the door behind her.
“Okay, Sofie, Jackie and I are going to perform a pelvic exam to make sure everything looks okay and run some additional tests. Then we’re going to have a little chat and get set up for your next appointment.”
“Okay,” was all I could squeak out before I laid down on the exam table and let Burly Santa poke and prod my lady bits.
I thought I was finally done and was ready to sit up when he pulled something out of a drawer that looked like an old Walkman with a microphone.
“What’s that?” I asked, raising an eyebrow and lifting my head up to look at the gray thing in his hands.
Burly Santa smiled. “This is a fetal heart rate monitor. According to your charts, it looks like you should be somewhere between four to six weeks, which means we may detect the heartbeat.”
A heartbeat? Something had a heart and was living inside me.
Before I could think of another question to ask, Dr. Burly Santa pressed the microphone looking thing to my stomach. Static came across the microphone first then something that sounded like whooshing water.
“Is that...?” I asked, staring at Dr. Burly Santa.
He smiled and nodded. “That would be your baby’s heartbeat.”
The emotion I’d been storing away came flooding back as tears burst from my eyes. A baby. A person. This was real. I was carrying a tiny human inside me.
The doctor tried to console me as he gave me samples of prenatal vitamins and paper after paper was piled in a folder with my name and September on the front.
September. My baby’s due date.
Holy shit, I was going to be a mother.
And Johnny was going to be a father.
I had to do so many things to prepare and people I had to tell. But at that moment, I just stared down at my stomach. My stomach holding my baby.
This wasn’t just about me and my future anymore. This was about us. And whether I liked it or not, this baby was a part of me, which meant Johnny was a part of me. It was time we stopped running from each other.
Chapter 7
Johnny was all too eager to meet me for dinner later that week. Probably because he thought he would get laid.
I would have planned it sooner, but I had to gather the courage to even text him to ask.
I invited Johnny to meet me at a Tex-Mex place not far from campus. He accepted via text without hesitation even though I ran out of his apartment like some kind of crazed monkey the last time I saw him.
I sat in the parking lot for a few minutes just counting my breaths as I gripped the steering wheel.
I’d thought about having kids at some point in my life, but I just expected it to be much later and not with a guy who I was sure impregnated me against a wall or in bed when my dad almost walked in on us. A guy I barely even knew. A guy who was by all accounts kind of a celebrity. What if he asked for a paternity test or just called me a crazy girl and told me to take my happy-hour queso and get the hell out?
From what little I’d hung out with Johnny, it didn’t seem like he would do that. Then again, I thought I knew my dad and didn’t think he’d be dating some lawyer from Friendship, and there he was, texting at all hours and going on dates to the zoo like some teenage boy. I even saw him using emojis in his texts to her with little heart eyes. Gross.
Not that long ago, I told Johnny I wanted more from our relationship, and he said he wasn’t sure where he wanted to go. Honestly, I wasn’t either. I just didn’t think I wanted to do the whole “friends with benefits” thing. I never wanted to be the girl in that type of relationship. Sure, I’d always been boy crazy—all the way back to getting in trouble in kindergarten for kissing boys on the playground—but I just never had the chance with the guys in high school and making a commitment to the ranchers of Friendship, TX. Now, I was about to make a commitment with someone as the father of my child. I mean I guess I kind of already did that when I didn’t think about using a condom every time.
It took everything I had to go through the motions of turning off my car, grabbing my purse, and finally opening the car door to step out of the car. The scent of tacos and exhaust from the nearby highway overwhelmed my senses.
I pulled my phone out of my purse and sent Johnny a quick text.
I’m here.
The three little dots flashed on the screen, alerting me that he was typing back.
Johnny: Already here, booth on the right in the corner by the window.
Shit. I thought maybe he would be late or something. Anything to give me some time to collect myself.
Instead of coming up with a game plan, I tossed my phone back in my purse, straightened my jacket, and made my way inside the building.
A hostess with bright blond hair and eye makeup that looked like it took hours to apply stood blinking her goopy lashes at me. “Welcome. Table for one or are you waiting on someone?”
She gave me a plastic smile that reminded me of Christy Quinn and the other bitches from high school who pretended to be nice when our moms were around but then would single me out when we were alone.
I smiled as big as I could. “Two. My hot Olympic gold medalist boyfriend is waiting for me,” I said louder than I intended.
So he wasn’t my boyfriend, but it sounded better than future baby daddy.
The hostess blinked once then twice. “Okay.”
“I’m going to go find said hot boyfriend now,” I said, nodding for good measure. I unbuttoned my cheetah print pea coat before turning to the right and heading for the windows.
I suddenly felt overdressed as I got a view of the hulking swimmer in a Team USA hoodie and sweatpants, practically face diving into a bowl of chips.
I thought maybe he would think of this as a date and dress up, but maybe I overestimated the guy, and my thoughts on wearing a black dress and tights with heels in the middle of winter.
“Sofie!” Johnny said, standing up with his mouth still full of chips.
He quickly hugged me, and I swore chips fell out of his mouth and dribbled on the shoulder of my jacket.
Letting go, I took the seat across from him. He stuffed another chip in his mouth, chewing before he finally spoke. “You look good. Sorry, I was still in practice when you texted me and didn’t have time to change. Now, I feel like an ass. A chlorine smelling ass.”
I waved my hand. “You’re totally fine. This was just clean. It’s not like this is a real date or anything.”
“So if it’s not a real date, then can we still get shit-faced on happy-hour margaritas and make out in my car afterward?” Johnny asked, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Uh...” I racked my brain for an answer to that one. Getting drunk and making out with Johnny sounded tempting, but there was the whole fetal alcohol syndrome thing.
“I’m not twenty-one yet. I will be in April,” I blurted. Even though we were both lit the night baby swimmer was conceived, that seemed like a good enough excuse. Or hung over the morning after. One of the two.
“I bet if I smile enough at the waitress, she’ll give us a pitcher and two glasses and not question it,” Johnny said with a wink.
Before I could respond, a dark-haired waitress came to the table, smiling way too brightly for someone who smelled like refried beans. “Hey, y’all, is this all of you or do you need a few minutes to wait for the rest of your party?”
“Nope, just us. Would you be able to set us up with a pitcher of your margaritas? On the rocks?” Johnny asked, staring up at the waitress with a megawatt smile before he looked at me.
“Is on the rocks okay, babe? Or did you want frozen or a flavor?”
I widened my eyes, blinking slowly before responding. “Uh, whatever you want. I won’t be having any.”
Johnny smirked then looked at the waitress. “B
etter make it frozen and strawberry.”
The waitress looked back and forth between the two of us then wrote something down on her pad. “Okay, I’ll have that right up while you two look over the menu.”
Johnny held up his menu. “See? You had nothing to worry about. Now, I’ve been looking at this thing while stuffing my face with chips and queso. I’m thinking we get an appetizer plate and maybe some fajitas. And I may get myself a burrito. Shit, practice was rough today. I haven’t eaten since like noon, and I really need some carbs.”
“Um. Wow. That’s a lot of food,” I said. Perusing the menu, I was trying to think of something to eat that I wouldn’t possibly upchuck later. The internet seemed to think when I got to my second trimester, my morning sickness would subside by then. Which was stupid anyway because morning sickness was an all-day sickness.
“Sorry. You can order whatever you want. I was just talking out loud,” Johnny said sincerely.
“Okay,” I said, still staring at the menu. I might order some hot buns and say, “Surprise, there is one of these in my oven!”
Johnny’s hand appeared on the top of my menu, pushing it down until I was forced to look into his green eyes. “Is everything really okay? You’re the one who asked me to meet you here, and you’re acting like you can’t stand the sight of me. Is it because of what happened the other night? Am I gross? Is it the clothes? I can go to the store and buy something nicer if that’s it.”
I shook my head. “No. Your clothes are fine.”
“Then what? What’s bothering you, Sofie? On New Year’s Eve, you told me you wanted something more between us, and I said we could take it slow. Then I thought we’d do that whole dating thing and you’d come by my apartment. But you haven’t talked to me since you ran sick out of my apartment and then I get a random text. I’m getting a lot of mixed signals here.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but the waitress appeared with a pitcher and two glasses, setting one in front of each of us with two straws. “Now, did you two have a chance to look over the menu, or did you need a few minutes?”
“Just a few more minutes, ma’am,” Johnny said, not even looking at the waitress, his eyes trained on me.
I sucked in a deep breath as the waitress smirked and walked away.
“Sofie. Come on, you can tell me what’s up,” Johnny said, pouring himself a glass then taking mine and pouring it to the top, putting it back in front of me.
“I don’t want to drink, Johnny,” I muttered.
“Why not? Starting to have second thoughts? Don’t want to let yourself go and have another session against the goat pen?” Johnny asked, wiggling his eyebrows and unwrapping his straw.
“I can’t drink because I’m pregnant,” I blurted.
Johnny stopped, mid opening his straw, letting it hang in the air as the paper fell to the table. He blinked once then twice before he opened and closed his mouth. “What?”
I sighed. “I’m pregnant. Okay? I thought I was just sick at your apartment then I went to the doctor at school, and they did a pregnancy test and referred me to an OB in town who confirmed it. I’m due in September.”
“Are you sure...?” he asked, still holding the straw in midair.
“Sure that I’m pregnant or sure that it’s yours? Because I haven’t been with anyone else in a very long time and we weren’t exactly good about using protection. So, yes, I’m sure. And if you want to ask any other questions, I really don’t have the answers. I just know that a bun is in my oven, and no one else but you, me, and the doctors know. Not Lia. Not my dad. No one.”
“Shit...I should have pulled out, but your dad came home, and I was so close, and it was too late...shit...” He ran his hands over his face and stared into the bowl of chips as if it had the answers.
We sat silently for a few minutes before he finally stopped staring and his eyes were on me again. “So...what do you want to do?”
I raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean what do I want to do?”
“I mean do you want to get married? ‘Cuz I’ll propose right now. Fuck dating and taking it slow, let’s do this,” he said, taking his straw wrapper and twisting it into a bow before holding it out to me.
I shook my head. “Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean we need to get married. We barely know each other.”
“Yeah, but we’re having a kid, I mean at least I think we are. I’m all for women having a choice and all, but if you’re thinking of another option, I’d like to know that too.”
I sighed. “I don’t think I can do that other choice. I heard the baby’s heartbeat the other day, and well...there is a person in me. A person with a heartbeat.”
Johnny put his hand on mine. “Tell me what you want me to do, and we’ll figure it out together.”
I looked up, meeting his concerned eyes, which was something I never expected. “I don’t know what I want,” I squeaked out.
I was never a crier, but now, with the extra hormones, I felt like I could cry at the drop of a hat. That was the last thing I wanted to do in a restaurant with a hot swimmer staring at me.
“Wanna get out of here and go somewhere more private?” he asked.
“But aren’t you hungry?” I asked.
He smiled and pulled out his wallet, setting a few bills on the table. “I can swing through a drive-through. Come on.”
Johnny stood up and offered me his hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
Chapter 8
We ended up in Johnny’s BMW, which he’d won in a race or a sponsor had provided or something. I was in a daze as we drove through a taco drive-through then ended up at a park in downtown Plano.
Johnny sat on one swing, and I sat on the one next to him. I watched as he ate his fifth taco before either of us finally said a word.
“My mom’s Swedish and a little bit of German and I think some Ukrainian. I have no idea what my dad is. I’ve never met the guy,” Johnny said, crumpling his taco wrapper and stuffing it in the bag with the rest of the wrappers.
“Okay. Um. I think my dad is German or something, and my mom was German? French? I’m not really sure,” I replied, unsure of what else to say.
“My mom raised me by herself in Arizona while working a couple of jobs. The local rec center had a program for disadvantaged youth, so she enrolled me in a swim program. I didn’t want to get my face wet, so I mostly kept up with the backstroke, and by the time I was like nine, I was invited to join a swim club. Before I knew it, I was getting a scholarship to Stanford then swimming in the Olympics and winning gold medals,” Johnny said, unwrapping another taco.
“Wow. Quite an accomplishment,” I said, kicking at the dirt. I could have shown more enthusiasm, but he was dumping a lot of random info on me.
Finally, I stopped swinging and turned toward him. “Why are you telling me all of this?”
He stopped with his mouth still open and the sixth taco almost to his lips. He set the hunk of tortilla down on the wrapper and wiped his hands. “Because I want you to know me, the guy who, for all intents and purposes, is your baby daddy. I’ve never had a father figure, so if you think I’m going to miss out on the chance to be one for our son, then you’re dead wrong.”
I rubbed my stomach that wasn’t even close to showing. “How do you know she’s a boy?”
He grinned. “My swimmers are good. They go for the gold.”
“Last time anyone talked about something gold, I’m pretty sure that was Jay referring to your member as a gold medal,” I muttered.
“Probably not the most appropriate time to say he was right about that,” Johnny said, unwrapping another taco.
“Is there ever an appropriate time to talk about a penis?” I asked.
“I mean we did start talking about having a boy. Man, twenty-three. I have three gold medals and now a kid. Holy shit, my mom is going to flip.” Johnny shook his head, a big grin on his face as he bit into his seventh taco.
“Shit. I don’t even know how the hell I’m going
to tell my dad.” I groaned, twisting the swing into a circle.
As if Dad knew I was talking about him, my phone buzzed from the pocket of my coat. I pulled it out to see a text from him on the screen.
Dad: Will be home late tonight. Let’s meet up for lunch after your classes tomorrow downtown.
“Probably out with his girlfriend. Gross,” I mumbled, typing back a quick K to Dad then stuffed my phone back in my pocket before unwinding the chains on the swing.
“What?” Johnny asked, mid-taco bite.
“Nothing. Just my dad saying he was going to be late tonight and wanted to get lunch after my classes tomorrow. Which really means he’s probably staying at his girlfriend’s house, which he thinks I don’t know about, but gahhhhhhhh.” I twisted in the chains of the swing again.
Johnny put his taco down and pulled on the chains of my swing, pulling me closer. “Do you want to come stay at my place tonight?”
I wrinkled my nose. “What?”
“Do you want to sleep at my apartment? Or are you afraid that I’m going to get you pregnant again?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.
“You seem way too excited about all of this. I expected you to freak out and be like ‘Oh, you’re just a medal chaser who wants some TNC stories,’” I said.
“I think you’re comparing me too much to real celebrities. I’m just a guy who makes a living on my back. I mean, wow, that sounded terrible,” he said with a laugh, letting go of the swing.
I laughed slightly then the laugh turned into tears. Real big ugly tears burst from my eyes and fell into my lap in big heaping sobs.
The weight of everything from the past few weeks was finally wearing on me. Before I could even control myself or try to take a breath, Johnny was kneeling in front of me, his arms around me, pulling me close to his chlorine smelling hoodie.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out, sobbing into his jacket. “I’m so, so sorry.”
He pulled me closer, running his fingers through my hair. “Shhh, Sofie, there’s nothing to be sorry about.”
