Nathaniel: True Love: New Adult College Romance Novella (Coral Gables Series Book 4)

by Taylor, Drucie Anne

  “You would … consider having an abortion?” he probes.

  “I don’t think I could do it,” I confess. “I mean, this is a life, a living human being, though right now it looks more like a jelly bean.”

  The corner of his mouth twitches. “I’m going to be a godfather.”

  “We can talk about that when the time comes. First, I need to pass the magical twelve-week mark. I don’t want anyone else to know before that.”

  “So Pearl and Cay don’t know yet?” Cliff asks, surprised.

  “Are you crazy? They wouldn’t leave me alone about it. It’s bad enough I’ll have to tell Mr. Daugherty and my family soon,” I say with a sigh. Mr. Daugherty is my boss at the store. As soon as he gets wind of my pregnancy, he’ll give me only cashier shifts. The pregnant ladies always get the cashier shifts. I hate sitting there—it’s the job I like least of everything to be done in a grocery store.

  “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to have to talk to him either,” Cliff admits.

  “Who would? He’s the epitome of grumpy.”

  Anson clears his throat. “Here we are.” He stops in front of my apartment building. I didn’t realize we were going this fast. Thankfully Pearl and Cay and I hadn’t gotten too far when I jumped ship. “Thanks for the ride,” I say to Anson.

  “Shai, do you maybe want to come with us for a swim tomorrow?” Anson asks.

  “I don’t know. My doc warned me I shouldn’t get too much sun, since my skin has started to get sensitive from the pregnancy, but I’ll think about it.”

  Anson hands me a business card. “Let me know if you want to come. I can pack a parasol for you,” he says with a laugh.

  I put the card in my purse. “Thanks.” I get out. “Have a nice evening, guys.”

  Before opening the front door, I turn around and wave. They leave only when I’ve walked inside. I’m grateful to have a friend like Cliff. And I really should cut my ties with Pearl and Cay, because shit like today just keeps happening. I’ve been annoyed with them time and again, but only now am I starting to see that I don’t need them in my life.

  Chapter 6

  I didn’t go to the beach with Cliff and Anson the following day, but holed up at home instead. In the intervening two weeks, the heat has made me nauseous and irritable. I only venture out for groceries, and even then, I spend as little time as possible outside, happy to get back into my cool, dark apartment.

  I’m scouring the internet for info on what’s good and bad for pregnant women. Apparently, I should skip parsley and nettle tea, and anything that might be dehydrating. I also never knew that soft, fresh cheeses such as mozzarella are taboo, since even when the milk used to make them is pasteurized, they can carry bacteria very dangerous for the unborn child. That’s definitely bad news, because I absolutely love mozzarella. Pregnancy is no fun, and I’ll have to deal with this for another eight months.

  Totally not cool!

  My phone rings as I’m reading more uncool stuff on the internet. “Cooper,” I say into the phone.

  “Hey, Shai,” Nate’s voice answers. “How are you doing?”

  “Okay, I guess. You?”

  “I think I’ve come to terms with the shock and all that. Do you have time to talk?”

  “Yes, I have time for you,” I say, swallowing hard.

  “I don’t know if I’m ready to be a father,” he says plainly. “I mean, if I’m going to be a father, I want to be with the mother of the baby, but you don’t want to be with me anymore.”

  My heart starts to hammer so hard it hurts. He wants me to have an abortion. That’s what he wants.

  As soon as I’ve found my voice again, I ask, “Does that mean you want me to get rid of this baby?”

  “Are you crazy? I don’t want you to kill our child! I want something else,” he says with conviction.

  “What do you want?” I ask cautiously. Maybe he’s considering giving the baby up for adoption, or giving it to his parents to raise. He wants to take it away from my loser hands. I take a deep breath, fearing a full-blown panic attack.

  “I want you to give me another chance,” he says. “We’re going to try to be a couple, in all earnestness, no ifs, ands, or buts. Okay?”

  I feel lightheaded with relief, proof of how tense and worried I’ve been the last two weeks. “Oh thank God,” I blurt out.

  “What did you think I was going to say?”

  “I thought of everything awful,” I answer, then immediately pull a face. That was not a wise answer.

  “That could mean anything. What, specifically?” he prods.

  “I thought you were going to try to talk me into either an abortion or an adoption,” I admit.

  Nathaniel sucks in air. “I would never do that. Sure, we may be young, and we were certainly stupid for not using protection, but I stand with you and our child. I’m not the kind of asshole who would force you to do either of those things.”

  “I know, but I’m still totally overwhelmed with the situation,” I explain. “And with the state I’m in—I am alternately horny and aching in various places, I keep throwing up— sometimes even when I think about my favorite food—and my breasts feel like blown-up balloons even though they haven’t even begun to grow yet.” I conclude my list and hesitate. “I’m so scared of all the things coming my way.”

  “Shai, I’ll be there for you,” he says in a serious but eager tone. “I won’t let you go through this alone, I’ll help you any way I can. Do you understand that? I’m not leaving you alone.”

  I sigh. “Thank you, Nate.”

  I have a feeling he’s nodding. That’s what he does when someone thanks him. At least that’s what he used to do, back when I knew him. “Don’t thank me. It’s a matter of course, or it should be anyway.” He exhales. “I want us to get this done, Shai. To become a family together.”

  “I hope we do,” I say softly.

  “We will if we both put our minds to it. Are you in?” I can hear his smile, because his tone changes when he smiles.

  “I think so, yeah. Are you in?”

  “Most definitely. As soon as I get back from Austin, we’ll figure things out. Okay? I want to go with you to the doctor’s. I want to see our child. Do you already have an ultrasound?”

  “Yes, I have two, actually,” I explain, feeling the courage and hopes surge within me. “I went to my doc again yesterday. The baby’s already looking like a tiny, tiny human now.”

  “Could you send them to me?”

  “Yes. I’ll take a photo and send them via WhatsApp, okay?”

  “Thank you.”

  I don’t know what else to say, and another wave of nausea is building inside me. I’d be glad if this part could be over. “What happens to college?” I finally ask.

  “We’ll arrange for someone else to babysit when we have classes at the same time, or we’ll ask our parents. Neither of us will give up college. And I’ll be there when you tell your parents, okay?”

  “I was going to ask that,” I admit sheepishly. “I’m scared to face them alone.”

  He chuckles. “I’ll be there to share the scolding with you. All you need to do is focus on the belief that we got this.”

  “I’ll do my best,” I promise.

  “I’ll call you again tomorrow,” he says. “If you have Skype, send me your screen name via WhatsApp so we can chat on there. Better than ramping up the phone bill.”

  “All right, talk to you tomorrow then, Nathaniel.”

  “Bye, Shai.”

  I hang up and lean back. Wow. I didn’t expect him to want to do this. A lot of guys our age would run screaming from the idea of taking responsibility and being a father.

  After I’ve processed his support for a few minutes with my eyes closed, I take the ultrasounds from my purse and snap photos of them with my phone. Then I send them to Nathaniel, along with my Skype screen name.

  A minute later, a beep announces his reply.

  That’s our child? Can’t believe how tiny it is. Th
is is supposed to become a person?

  And a moment later:

  I’ll add you on Skype when I’m on the computer.

  I send him a thumbs-up and put my phone aside. Then I lie down on my bed for a minute. Damn exhaustion. The joys of pregnancy are really endless, I think. I don’t understand why women would do this to themselves more than once. Really.

  ***

  The phone rings and wakes me up. This time it’s not my cell phone but the landline. I search for it on the floor next to my bed. “Yes?”

  “Hey, honey.” It’s my mom. “How are you? You haven’t called in a while, so I thought I’d check in on you.”

  “Hey, Mom. I’m okay, just a little tired and drained. I think it’s the heat. How are you and Dad?”

  “Great. We just got back from Granny’s, and your father wants to know if you want to come visit. It would sure beat being there alone all the time.”

  “Oh, I’m really okay with being alone right now,” I say with a smirk. “And it’s nice and cool in here.”

  “Come on, Shai, don’t be a spoilsport. Pack a bag and come home. You’d really make us happy, and there’s also the pool out back. Nice and cool,” she giggles.

  I sigh at the thought of soaking in the pool. “I’ll pack a bag tonight and head down there tomorrow, okay?”

  “It’s only a two-hour drive, honey.”

  “All right, then I’ll head down tonight. Is that better?” I chuckle. I’m weirdly glad that my mom doesn’t give up once she’s gotten something into her head.

  “Yes, that’s perfect. I’ll see you tonight then, honey.”

  “See you, Mom.” I hang up and immediately start packing a few changes of clothes and such. My dad doesn’t let anyone touch his computer, because it’s his work station, as he likes to call it, so I also pack my laptop to stay in contact with Nate.

  ***

  “Honey,” my mom squeals, pulling me into a tight hug.

  I return the embrace. “Hey, Mom.” Tears start to well in my eyes. Oh fuck, she’s going to know something’s going on.

  “Why are you trembling?” she asks, concerned, and pulls away from me. She studies me attentively.

  “I’m just happy to see you,” I say evasively.

  “And the real reason?” she probes.

  “I think we should sit down for that,” I murmur.

  “Come in then.” She takes my hand and leads me into the living room, where Noah and my dad are sitting on the couch. “Noah, could you get Shai’s luggage?” Mom asks.

  “Sure,” he says, and I throw him the car keys. He catches them and walks out.

  “Sit down, Shai.”

  I plop down on the couch. “Hey, Dad,” I say quietly.

  “Hello, my dear.” He smiles, getting up and planting a kiss on the crown of my head. “Everything all right?”

  It’s now or never!

  “Well, if it’s all right to be pregnant, then yes,” I blurt out before I can change my mind. “If not, I don’t know what to do, and please don’t get upset now. I know I’m far too young for a baby, but I miscalculated and … Oh, fuck!”

  Dad sits heavily next to me. “Pregnant?”

  I nod slowly, clearing my throat. “Yes,” I squeak.

  Mom sits down on the coffee table. “Since when do you have a boyfriend?”

  Tugging at the sleeve of my shirt, I struggle to find the right words. “Well, I don’t actually have one. It was a one-night stand with … with Nathaniel.”

  “That good-for-nothing Jenkins boy, the one who broke your heart in high school?” Dad demands.

  “Yes, but he wants to take care of the baby with me, if things go well. I mean, if I get through the first three months.”

  “At least that’s something,” he grumbles.

  “And how do you intend to do this?” Mom asks.

  “This is where you guys come into play, I hope. I don’t want to give up college and neither does Nathaniel. We need someone to watch the baby sometimes, but if you don’t want to jump in, I totally understand.”

  “Are you totally sure you want to have this baby, Shailene?” my father asks in a serious tone.

  I take the ultrasound pictures from my purse. “It’s my child, and yes, I want to have it. I’m afraid, though, that I’ll have to use the college fund my parents created for me when I was a child,” I explain, staring at the image of my tiny boy or girl.

  “I’ll take care of this,” my dad says. “The money will be in your account as soon as possible.”

  I look at them both, dumbfounded. “No major scolding? You’re not shocked or angry or disappointed?”

  “Why should we be? It’s already happened, and I don’t believe it will do any good if your father and I start ranting at you now,” Mom says. “Come here, honey.”

  I scoot forward to the edge of the couch, and she pulls me into her arms. “I always have been and always will be proud of you,” she whispers, “because, despite everything that’s happened you, you’ve never lost your faith.”

  Dad pulls both of us into a bear hug.

  “Hurray, group hug!” Noah calls out. He’s just returned from bringing in my stuff and joins the family embrace. He laughs about his joke at least as much as we do.

  “Don’t get too excited, you’re going to be an uncle,” I tease him.

  “What?” he bursts out. “Who knocked you up? Can I beat him up?”

  “Noah, watch your language,” Mom warns him playfully.

  “Sorry,” he says sheepishly, pulling away from the rest of us.

  We all stand there for a moment, and I wipe the tears from my cheeks. “Thank you for being there for me.”

  Mom gives me a warm smile. “Shai, we love you just the same as we would if you were our biological child,” she assures me in a soft voice. “Of course we’ll be there for you, and of course we will make it work, watching the baby when your classes get tight. We’re going to find a way to make this work, as we did with everything else life has thrown our way.”

  “I thought you would tear me to pieces for this,” I murmur.

  “You’ll have to wait for them to get past the shock.” Noah smirks, and my father frowns at him for his flippancy. “Hey, don’t look at me like that,” Noah laughs.

  “We can work this out over a game of football, son,” Dad counters.

  “Nah, no, thank you. My ribs are still bruised from last time.”

  Dad nods. “Chicken.” Then he imitates a chicken flapping its wings. Knowing Noah, he’s not going to stand for that. He always gets all riled up when someone insinuates he’s a coward. I often think he’s getting worked up too quickly, but, hey, it’s his decision whether to take the bait or not.

  ***

  We spend the evening eating a drawn-out dinner and talking, and around ten, my parents go to bed. I stay on the couch and flip through the TV channels for a while. After my afternoon nap, I’m not tired at all.

  “So who’s the baby’s father?” Noah asks, joining me in the living room.

  “Nathaniel,” I answer. “The day he came to our apartment. I thought there was still some time before I hit the critical days of my cycle, but I obviously miscalculated.”

  Noah shakes his head. “Shai, you really should have known the little swimmers can tread water for up to a week.”

  “It’s a little gross when you put it that way.” I smirk.

  “You know what I mean, though.”

  I nod slowly. “Yeah, I do.”

  “And how do you guys intend to handle the situation?” Noah probes. “Are you getting back together?”

  I exhale, making my lips flutter. “Nate wants us to try again.”

  “Do you want that, too?”

  “I don’t know. We’re setting things straight when he gets back from Austin.”

  “Well, maybe you can make up and be happy together. Of all the losers you’ve dragged home, he was the nicest.” Noah grins.

  “You think Nate’s a loser?” I ask, my
curiosity piqued.

  “No. I think he’s an asshole for knocking up my little sister.” Noah smirks. “No, seriously, I like Nate, and I think you’d make a cute couple.”

  I smile at my brother, whose greenish-brown eyes sparkle with amusement. “You think I’m crazy for wanting to keep the baby, don’t you?”

  Noah leans forward and studies me with unsettling intensity. His gaze burns into my brown eyes. “No. I think it’s laudable that you’re not running to the nearest clinic to get rid of it. But I also think it’s going to be one hell of a job taking care of it. I’ll be there, and I’m ready to help you, Shai, but I’m worried you’ll break down under the weight of the responsibility … the strain.”

  I scoot closer to the edge of the couch and hug him, briefly but tightly. “Nothing can go wrong with a brother like you.”

  “Oh? Why on earth do you think that?”

  “I know you’d never walk away and leave me alone when I need you. I know you’re going to support me. You don’t know how grateful I am.”

  “How could I leave my little sister in the lurch?” he says, stressing the little part. I don’t like being teased for my shortness. I’m not that short. Compared to Noah, however, I’ll always be the little one. He’s two heads taller than me.

  “I’m not little,” I pout.

  “You’ll always be my little sister, though.”

  “One day you’ll get old, and then you’ll shrink until you’re as short as I am,” I grumble.

  “So? At least my ego will always be tall and proud,” he counters with a chuckle.

  “I hope that was a joke.”

  “Sure.”

  “I love you, my dear old weirdo.”

  “Old? I’m only one year older than you.”

  “See? Old,” I giggle.

  “I should throw my false teeth at you and beat you up with my walker, but I don’t beat women. Sometimes it’s a pity.”

  “Old fart.”

  “Midget.”

  “Okay, enough with the playground epithets,” I chuckle, which ends in a yawn. “I should head to bed.”

  “Yeah, I think I’ll head upstairs, too.” He nods and switches off the TV. After we’ve switched off all the lights downstairs, we both walk up the stairs to our respective rooms. It’s good to be home.