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by K. A. Berg


  I know I should probably take a shower before I fall asleep, but I can’t force myself to get up and do it. Then I remember how many drunk men have grabbed my ass or some other part of my body tonight, how many times I had to dip my hands into the nasty ‘sanitizing’ bucket to wipe down tables, how many bar glasses I helped rinse and put in the dishwasher, and how much beer was spilled on me throughout the night. Remembering all of it has me running to the shower to scrub off the grime. Feeling decontaminated, my eyes close the moment my head hits the pillow.

  It feels as though I’ve just fallen asleep when Quinn barges in and starts bouncing on the bed and poking me in the side over and over. “Wake up, bitch! It’s your birthday, and you’re going to sleep the whole day away,”

  “I just went to bed. Leave me alone,” I grumble back, swatting her hand away.

  “No, you didn’t. It’s almost one in the afternoon. Get your soon-to-be-fat ass out of bed now!” She bounces harder now, and I’m jostled completely out of my much-needed sleep.

  “Shut the hell up and stop fucking jumping! It’s too early for your shit. It’s my birthday, and I want to sleep, so fuck off,” I yell from under the pillow I’ve pulled over my head to muffle the sound of her raised voice.

  “Ashley, come on. Get up. I have the whole day planned out before dinner,” she whines, finally sitting still. I look up to see her batting her sad puppy dog eyes at me.

  “Fine.” I admit defeat and drag my tired ass out of bed. “There had better be breakfast waiting for me, or so help me God, I’ll kill you.”

  “You’re even more of a bitch in the morning now your precious coffee has been banned.” She laughs as she flees from the room. She really is a total fucking brat sometimes.

  Quinn wasn’t joking when she’d said she had the day planned out. We start out at the spa where we have facials, massages, mani’s and pedi’s. Then we go shopping for an outfit to wear to dinner. Quinn claims the shopping trip is because most of my regular wardrobe is starting to get snug and I won’t spend any extra money right now on clothes I would be comfortable in. She swears she wants to treat me to a few new outfits, including one I can wear out to dinner. I reluctantly agree as long as we keep it simple and stick to stretchy pants and some cotton tops—nothing fancy. I get choked up quite a few times during the day by how thoughtful she really can be. She doesn’t even push to go somewhere else when I suggest we go to the outlet mall in Elizabeth, even though I know she hates any sort of outlet.

  After shopping, we head back to the condo to hang out for a little while before dinner. We plan to end the night out at a new posh restaurant, Paradox, which Quinn has been dying to try. She’d asked earlier in the week if I minded her inviting Alex to celebrate with us, which of course I didn’t. I have no problems with Alex. It’s not his fault his best friend is a complete douchebag. I do make Quinn promise me they won’t leave me sitting all alone while they sneak off for a quickie in some closet or something. She laughs at me and thanks me for the suggestion. Bitch. At least one of us is getting laid.

  Dinner goes surprisingly well. The food is great, but I don’t think the restaurant is anything special. Actually, the design of it kind of creeps me out. Everything is done in silver, black, and white, like some weird futuristic design.

  There’s a little tension between Alex and me before he breaks the ice. “I need you to know I don’t agree with what Tanner’s doing,” he says. “I’ve told him as much. I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with him. I mean, I know he can be a dick but never with you. This shit really has me thrown for a loop.”

  “It’s okay, Alex. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure I’m better off in the long run. But he’s your best friend. I understand your need to stand by him.” I don’t want Alex to feel torn. My situation with Tanner shouldn’t have any bearing on Alex’s non-relationship with Quinn or even his potential friendship with me—if that’s what he’s looking for.

  “It’s hard to stand by him right now. I don’t agree with him. But thank you for understanding my shitty position. Don’t believe a word he’s said to you. You really are a special girl, Ash. Too good for his sorry ass.” He smiles, raising his glass for a toast. I raise my virgin daiquiri, and with the clinking of the glasses, any signs of awkwardness dissipate.

  “Now that’s a perfect toast. Guess you’re good with more than just your cock and hands.” Quinn smirks at him with fire in her eyes.

  “Now you know how good I am with my mouth, Sugar,” he jibes right back, throwing the stupid pet name she loves to use so much back at her.

  “Guys, seriously, I just got the nausea under control. Do you need to make me want to puke again?” I say, causing all three of us to laugh uncontrollably.

  It’s a perfect birthday dinner. We talk about my new job, the baby, and all the awesome things Quinn has done for me today. It’s refreshing to see the interaction between Quinn and Alex—the secret glances they think they’re sneaking, the hand-holding, the innuendos. You can totally see something deep is brewing there, but I don’t dare tell them. It kind of makes me miss being a half of a whole.

  “You’ll let me know if you need anything? I’ll do anything I can to help you out,” Alex says sincerely before we all part ways.

  “I will. That means a lot to me. Thank you,” I tell him before pulling him into a hug that startles him, and we both laugh.

  “Sorry, I’m overly emotional these days. Thanks for the beautiful flowers too,” I say, holding up the bouquet of lilies he’s brought me. Then I step back to allow him and Quinn a moment.

  Quinn’s kept me going nonstop today, and I’m exhausted by the time we get home. Forgoing a shower, I change into my sweats and climb into bed, where Quinn and I lie together, talking about my doctor’s appointment at the end of this week.

  “Do you think they’ll be able to tell you the sex of the baby?” Quinn asks while snuggling down under the covers trying to get warm. It’s blistering cold outside, and being out there for more than a second freezes you into a Popsicle.

  “I doubt it. I’ll only be fourteen weeks and a few days. From what I’ve read, most doctors don’t like to tell you until at least sixteen weeks.” I’ve spent most of my spare time researching pregnancy and everything related to it. It’s crazy how much stuff I didn’t know about when it comes to being pregnant.

  “Maybe we’ll get lucky,” she says, burrowing into my side.

  “Maybe,” I say before snuggling her back and closing my eyes, thinking about nothing but tiny little babies.

  Friday morning rolls around a lot quicker than I thought it would. I’ve been very excited about my doctor’s visit I’d been expecting the week would drag. My shifts at Legends and the stack of articles I need to write have helped keep my mind otherwise occupied.

  Quinn and I are still trying to defrost from the freezing temperature outside when my name is called to head back to the exam room. Lacey, the same nurse as last time, informs me today I just need to give a urine sample. I don’t have to change into the gown this time. I just have to come back to the room after doing my business.

  After peeing, I leave the sample on the counter, just like last time, and sit on the exam table to wait for Dr. Marcus.

  “I think I’m more nervous this time than I was last time,” I tell Quinn, picking at the ends of my hair, looking for split ends. I do that a lot when I’m anxious.

  “You had a lot going on in your mind last time, and nothing was really real yet. Now it’s real, and you have real fears. I’m sure it’s normal,” Quinn says, giving me a sincere smile. I’m glad she was able to come with me today. I’m sure everyone must think we’re a lesbian couple since Quinn is always the one holding my hand through these visits.

  Dr. Marcus knocks on the door, alerting us to his presence, and strolls in with a smile on his face. “Good morning, Ms. Mitchell. How are you today?” He offers me a hand with his greeting.

  “I’m doing well, thank you,” I tell him, shaking his hand.
r />   “Good to hear. How’s the vomiting? Did the Zofran we prescribed last appointment help?” he asks, glancing over my chart.

  “Yes, the extreme morning sickness let up about two weeks ago.” I’m thankful I’m not puking my brains out anymore.

  “Good. Good. It usually does work itself out by the second trimester. So, today I want to do a quick scan just to double check how everything’s progressing. Before you get all worked up, no, I don’t think there’s anything wrong, but I always like to double-check.” Man, he’s good. But I guess after dealing with pregnant women every day, he must be able to sense a freak out coming a mile away.

  “I just need you to roll or push down your pants to your pubic line and pull your shirt up to your bra line,” he says, pushing some buttons on the ultrasound machine he’s just wheeled over to the table from the corner of the room. He squirts some cold jelly around my belly button before pushing the wand down on my tummy and moving it around as he turns his attention to the monitor.

  He hits a button on the keyboard, and suddenly, a loud whooshing sound reverberates throughout the room.

  “That’s the baby’s heartbeat, right?” I ask even though I’m pretty sure it is. I just want to make sure. I heard it for a few seconds during the last ultrasound, and it’s almost impossible to confuse that beautiful sound with anything else. Everything except the amazing whooshing just fades out. It makes the fact there’s really a little person growing inside me more of a reality. The baby becomes a little more real every time I hear it.

  “Yes, and it sounds great. Everything else looks great too. I don’t see anything abnormal,” he says, still moving the wand around as he checks things out. I can’t tear my eyes away from the screen. It’s hard to believe that little peanut is inside me—although she’s not really a peanut anymore. I can definitely make out the shape of a baby now.

  “So, do you think you might be interested in finding out the sex of the baby, Ashley?” Dr. Marcus asks.

  I see Quinn bouncing in her chair and shaking her head up and down.

  “Yes, but I thought it was still early to tell,” I reply.

  “You’re at about fourteen and a half weeks. We don’t normally look for the sex at this point, but I’m already here, and I can tell for sure what the sex is. If you want to know, I’d be more than happy to share.” He smiles down at me.

  “Yes, I would love to know,” I answer, my voice full of excitement.

  He points to an area of the screen that looks as though it could be the baby’s butt. “This view is what we sometimes refer to as the potty shot, and that right there tells us you’re having a bouncing baby boy.”

  I gasp, and my eyes fill with tears as I stare at the image of my son.

  Chapter Three

  Tanner

  A few days after having dinner with Melissa, I called Davis, my agent, about my foundation idea. He must have jumped on it right away because it only took him a little over a week to get back to me with good news. While trying to start my own foundation to benefit underprivileged children could take months and even years to get off the ground, Davis has found something he thinks is even better for me. The Tony Mathis Foundation has been looking for someone to take over as the public face of the organization since Tony passed earlier this year, and they think I’d be a great fit for them. The head of the foundation told Davis based on my recent activities in the community, the board would be more than happy to meet with me. The Tony Mathis Foundation is huge. It’s been around for decades and is basically a household name. It isn’t exactly what I’d been looking to do, but it’s a damn good alternative with little to no startup work. I told Davis I’d take the weekend to think about it and get back to him.

  I’m just checking his latest email on my phone as I stand on the sidelines of the party. It’s my teammate Malcolm’s daughter’s birthday, and the whole team and all their kids have turned out. I read Davis’ email reminding me I don’t have all the time in the world to make a decision and he really thinks I should do this. They don’t have much time to waste, and they want to have a set man for the job by Monday. Apparently, with the holidays coming up, they need someone to sign now so they can get things rolling for the new year.

  Just then, Alex comes over with a cold Heineken for me, “Here’s a beer, bro.”

  “Thanks, dude.” I grab the beer while reaching into my pocket for my key ring, which has a bottle opener on it.

  “What’s on your mind, Tag? You look lost in your thoughts.” He follows my line of vision over to the crowd of our teammates playing with the kids as they run wild through the indoor play facility. Pink and purple balloons float everywhere. There’s a blow-up castle-shaped bouncy house, trampolines galore, and even a face painter who’s going around painting all the kids’ faces. Squeals of laughter echo all around.

  “Nothing. Just thinking about the Mathis deal and how I can’t help but laugh watching our six-foot-four-inch, two-hundred-eighty-five-pound defensive tackle bouncing with a group of little princesses up and down on a giant trampoline. On a Friday night no less. It’s one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen,” I say, pointing to the group in front of us.

  “Again, Daddy, again!” Malcolm’s daughter yells as he jumps up again, causing her and her group of little princess friends to go flying into the air. There is so much joy on her face. “I love you, Daddy. You’re best,” she says hugging him something fierce when she comes back down from the last bounce into the air.

  “I have so much respect for them,” Alex says. “It takes a certain kind of man to give a child that much love. I once thought you were that kind of man, Tag. But I guess I was wrong.” He shakes his head, taking a long pull of his beer. Here we go again.

  I take an equally long pull of my beer. “Dude, I don’t want to have this argument with you again.” We haven’t really gotten into it too much since the night I first told him Ashley had claimed to be pregnant with my child. He’s brought it up a few times but not in the hostile tone I hear in his voice right now.

  “I just can’t believe my own best friend would abandon his child and the mother of that child. It really pisses me off. Especially when you’re talking about becoming the front man for a charity for underprivileged kids. I’m sorry, man, but you’re a hypocrite. I have a huge problem with the way you’re handling things. I thought you would’ve come around by now, but you haven’t, and each day that goes by, it pisses me off more. Especially when I see how strong Ash is trying to be through this. I see the toll it’s taking on her even though she won’t admit it. I see the pain in her eyes. It makes me want to lay you out, honestly.”

  When he sees the pain in her eyes? When is he seeing her? More importantly, why is he seeing her? I don’t want her anywhere near my life. Great best friend I have.

  “What’s wrong with you? I can’t believe you’d side with her over me,” I accuse, moving to stand directly in front of him, not trying to hide the anger in my tone.

  “What’s wrong with me? What the hell is wrong with you, Tanner?” He shakes his head at me.

  I hear the frustration in his voice, and it pisses me off. Who the hell does he think he is, getting all up in my face about this situation? He’s the one who’s keeping in contact with the woman trying to make a paycheck out of me.

  “Listen, asshole, you may be my best friend, but I won’t hesitate to lay you out. Who the hell are you to take that tone with me? You’re the one still talking to the woman who’s trying to use me. If anyone should be pissed off here, it’s me, you fucking traitor,” I growl at him, getting close enough we stand nose to nose. He’s gone too far this time.

  He doesn’t seem the least bit fazed by me being in his personal space. He just cocks his head to the side and lets out a mocking laugh. “You really are a delusional dipshit, Tanner. Use you for what? Have you even heard from her since you walked out on her weeks ago? No, you haven’t. And I’m pretty sure you won’t ever again. She wants nothing to do with you, dickhead. Did you
know she got a second job? She’s been working her ass off to prepare for the life of a single mom. Does that sound like someone trying to get a dime from you? I’m glad you walked out on her. You don’t deserve her. All the dumb shit you’ve done over the years has never bothered me or made me bat an eye, but this… this makes me ashamed to even call you my friend. Don’t worry, I’ll keep my eye on your kid for you. I hope Ashley finds a real man who’s willing to step up to the plate and be a father to your kid. Maybe he’ll be a good role model and the kid will stand a chance of not turning out like his asshole sperm donor. Shame too. You had an excellent example of what a father is supposed to be, and yet here you are—a complete fucking moron. Hope you don’t choke on that regret when it rears its ugly head, asshole,” he says, tossing his now empty beer into the trash can. I watch him head over to Malcolm and his little family to hug them goodbye.

  I stand there dumbstruck, watching the party continue around me. My feet are rooted to the floor as I reflect back on everything Alex has just said. She got a second job—so what? That could just mean the kid isn’t mine, and she’s finally realized I’m not a sucker. It doesn’t mean she isn’t guilty of using me. It just means she’s smart enough to know when the jig is up.

  Even as I try to convince myself once again I don’t care about her, I feel a pit start to form in stomach. I’m pulled from my thoughts as someone sidles up beside me. “Hey, Tan,” Kelvin, our cornerback, says clapping me on the back. “I know it’s not my business, but I happened to overhear that argument between you and Alex. I want to say one thing, and then I won’t ever mention it again.”

  “I really don’t want to talk about this, man,” I say, gritting my teeth. The last thing I need is another person knowing how Ashley is trying to screw me over.

  “I hear you but let me just tell you this one thing.” The way his tone changes from friendly to forceful has me curious as to what he wants to say. I nod for him to continue before staring back at the bottle in my hands.

 

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