Together: A Surprise Pregnancy Romance

by Jennifer Van Wyk

  “Yup.”

  “Okay, yeah. Sure. Sounds fun.”

  “Ha! Something tells me you just broke your own rule about lying to me but I’ll let it slide for this one.”

  Damn. He’s already got my number. The next several months should be interesting.

  Chapter Ten

  Nikolas

  “Cold?” I ask a question I already know the answer to. Of course she’s cold. I’m cold. Everyone in the state of Michigan is cold. Except middle school boys who don’t think it’s cool to feel outside temperatures so they’re still wearing shorts and refuse to admit they own a winter coat. Even if the temperature wasn’t a dead giveaway, the fact that she keeps huddling into herself would be.

  “Nope.”

  I nudge her with my shoulder as we walk through town. The store fronts are still decorated for Christmas and there are Christmas flags hanging from light poles and twinkle lights strung up in the otherwise sad looking trees. It’s a beautiful small town, Liberty, Michigan, under normal circumstances, but in the winter, it’s spectacular. “Liar.”

  She chuckles. “Busted.” She turns to me, her elbows bent and arms raised, her hands clasped together tightly. “In my defense, though, the walk is actually fun but it’s literally freezing out here. Less than freezing. What is it, twenty? At the most?”

  “Actually, with the wind chill factored in, I think it’s only twelve degrees out here.”

  She wrinkles her cute little red nose. “No wonder my face hurts.”

  “Lovely to live in an area where going outside in the winter hurts your face, huh?”

  We walk a few more blocks, past the police station and the public library. A woman walks out with her arms loaded down with library books, her young children bundled up and sliding on the sidewalk from the slight layer of ice. They giggle and squeal as they slip and slide their way to their snowy black minivan. The side door slides open and the kids jump inside.

  “I’m not driving a minivan,” Ashley says beside me.

  I didn’t realize it, but we’d both stopped walking, entranced by the ease in which this mother guided her three young kids out of the library and into her van, all while dealing with her arms full of bags and books and walking on the icy sidewalk herself. She made it look so easy, natural.

  Maybe it’s because social media is a weird place, but I had this image of parents always being stressed out, frazzled, and at their wit’s end. Heading home to chug on a bottle of wine because they can’t manage their life otherwise.

  “Nik?” Ashley calls my name, gaining my attention.

  “Yeah?”

  “You okay? You know her? Want to go say hello?”

  Her question startles me and I turn to face her. “No. It’s just… I guess now that I know I’m going to be a dad, I’m noticing more parents and kids, I guess.”

  “Oh. Yeah, my sister told me that I’d see pregnant women everywhere now.” She nods in understanding and we continue walking, turning down a street that takes us away from downtown Liberty. The street is lined with old, historic houses that are unique and enormous and the owners seem to be in a competition for who can put up more lights during the holiday season.

  “Wow. This is amazing,” Ashley says, her eyes trained on a house that I know was built in the early 1980s and has an all brick exterior.

  “It is. I can’t imagine their electrical bills, though.”

  She nudges me. “You would think of the electric side of it, Mr. Electrician.”

  “Guilty. I can’t help it, it’s how my brain is wired.”

  Ashley groans. “Oh, boy. You’re already using dad jokes.”

  We laugh together and continue our walk. “Warming up at all?”

  “No. But I like this. You’re right about needing the fresh air.”

  Nodding, I explain, “I try to get outside for a while every day. Even if it’s cold or, heaven forbid, wicked hot.”

  “Not a fan of the heat?”

  I wrinkle my nose. “It’s not that. I like summer just fine, but I definitely prefer cooler temperatures. What about you?”

  “I could live forever in sixty-five-degree weather.”

  As we walk, we continue to talk about nothing at all, but in reality, she’s opening up to me more and more without even realizing it. Giving me little details about herself, her likes and dislikes, what her childhood was like, what she wants out of life, in little blips, anyway.

  “This is one of my favorite houses in town,” she says, pointing to a house I’ve never taken a second look at. It’s definitely cool, though. Kind of reminds me of a cottage or glorified cabin you’d see next to a lake or in the mountains.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yes. It looks like they took a mountain home and planted it in the middle of town.”

  “It does.”

  “My house is so basic,” she grumbles. “I love it and I’m so glad that I have a place to stay — it’s a rental until I find something to buy — but still, it’s basic.”

  “Basic isn’t always bad.”

  “No. It isn’t. I can decorate it the way I want this way.”

  “Do you like that? Interior decorating?”

  She turns her head to the side, back and forth. “I’m not good at it, mainly because I don’t have a lot of things, so my decorating isn’t unique. It’s basic.” She giggles. “Your house is cool, though. What I saw of it, anyway.”

  “You mainly saw the bedroom,” I remind her, wiggling my eyebrows.

  “Mmm. It’s a good room.” She leans against me as we walk and I wrap an arm around her. She doesn’t shift away but she also doesn’t get any closer to me.

  “I like it, too.”

  Not wanting to make things between us awkward, I release her and we continue walking down the sidewalk, turning to go back toward downtown.

  It occurs to me as we make small talk that I truly enjoy being with her. I did the night we ate enough junk food for an entire football team and then played darts for hours. And today, having lunch and going on this walk that I wasn’t really eager to do either, but wanted to have a chance to get to know each other and do something different. I’ve really enjoyed the two times we’ve sat on the phone together and the texting.

  She’s gorgeous, but it’s more than just her appearance that’s drawing me to her. It’s also more than the fact that she’s carrying my child, which is incredibly surreal.

  Ashley is honest to God one of the most fun people I’ve spent time with. Like when I asked her to play darts but she didn’t know if she wanted to, she did it to have fun. Maybe I’m basing my opinion of her on only a couple of experiences, but something in my gut tells me to follow it. Which means I want to know more.

  “So you’re a dental hygienist?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is that why you’re always staring at my teeth?” I ask, smiling wide.

  She whips her head in my direction, her eyes wide and cheeks flushed. Something tells me the flush isn’t only from the cold. “What?” She’s a little breathy and it’s adorable. She’s embarrassed that I called her out — or maybe it’s that she’s been caught. Either way, she’s not denying it.

  “Yup. That’s the reason.”

  Nuh uh. There’s more to it than that but I’ll let it go.

  “You like it? The work, I mean?”

  “I do. Obviously, there are some times where I’d like to just leave and go back home, when someone comes in who not only hasn’t been to the dentist in what seems like their entire life, and also looks like they haven’t brushed in decades.”

  Oh damn. That makes me gag to just think about. “Gross.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Thank goodness for that.”

  She laughs lightly and turns to me when we’re at the one and only stoplight in town. “This might sound weird, but I like that you make me do things I typically don’t want to do.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Like?”

  “Not the sex.” She rushes to e
xplain. “That I was totally on board with,” she says boldly.

  “Got that. I was right there with you, remember?”

  She smiles shyly. “Yes, you were. But, I’m talking about the walk today and the darts. You help me get out of my comfort zone.”

  “Glad to be of service. I’ll gladly do whatever I can to keep pushing your boundaries.” I wink at her and she rolls her eyes.

  The red light turns green and the walk sign lights up so we cross the street. We’ve been out leisurely walking for almost an hour but with the cold temperature and bitter wind, it’s plenty long.

  “Want to stop in Dreamin’ Beans for a warm drink?” Dreamin’ Beans is a local coffee shop that rivals any of the national chains. Partly because their pastries could win awards. “Maybe one of their double chocolate chip muffins?”

  “Now you’re speaking my language.”

  “Way to your heart, huh? The hot drink or the muffin?”

  “Uhh, both? Only when it’s so cold outside that it makes your face hurt.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Okay, that was a lie,” she sighs. “I’ll take a hot drink and chocolate muffin any day of the year.” I open the door for her to go inside the coffee shop first. “Honestly, I’m such a sucker for anything chocolate and coffee. Even decaf, which is what I need to have for the next several months.”

  We walk to the front counter and are greeted by the barista. She has a nametag that reads Hazel and if I’m not mistaken, she’s the daughter of the owner, Christine. I’ve lived in this town my entire life, so it’s hard to miss people who’ve been here their entire lives as well. It also helps that I’ve worked with Andy, Christine’s husband, on several occasions. He talks about his kids a lot while he’s building the houses that I’m putting electrical outlets into. He also talks about his wife and the incredible food she makes and his daughter who works for the coffee shop.

  “Good afternoon. Welcome to Dreamin’ Beans. Can I help you?” Hazel asks.

  I gesture for Ashley to order first. “Go ahead.”

  “Nik told me all about the double chocolate chip muffins. Do you have those available?”

  Hazel’s eyes light up. “Oh, yes, they’re the best. I could eat like fifty of ‘em a day!”

  “Best sales pitch ever,” Ashley replies. “I’ll have one, warmed up, please. A cup of decaf, too, please.”

  “Same for me, but full of caffeine.”

  “You got it. Room for creamer?”

  Ashley and I nod and Hazel rings up our order. I pay then we find a spot to sit after Hazel tells us she’ll bring our muffins and coffee out to us. The coffee shop is meant for casual seating, with tables and cushioned chairs but also some oversized chairs and a sofa by a gas fireplace.

  “Want to sit by the fireplace?”

  “Ooh yes! That sounds perfect.”

  We settle on the couch, angling toward each other with our coats bunched up next to us. She unwraps the knitted scarf from around her neck and lays it across her lap, looking around the little coffee shop.

  “Is this the first time you’ve been in here?”

  “Yeah. I usually make coffee at home so haven’t stopped in.”

  “You’ll be craving it,” I warn with a grin.

  “Great. More cravings.”

  That piques my curiosity. “Do you already have something you’re craving?”

  She shakes her head. “No. It’s pretty early,” she reminds me.

  “Oh.”

  Hazel stops over with our muffins — which, I’ll be honest, is more of a cupcake than a muffin — and coffee, setting a small pitcher of creamer on the table in front of us.

  “Can I get you anything else?”

  “I’m good. Thank you. This looks amazing,” Ashley says.

  “Awesome! If you need anything, just signal. It’s quiet in here this afternoon so I’ll notice. Enjoy!” She bounces away and we doctor up our coffee, taking a sip then diving into our chocolatey muffins. I honestly don’t think I could eat one of these without cutting the sweetness with some coffee, but the combination is amazing.

  “Holy crap, that’s good,” she mumbles around a mouthful of muffin.

  “Right?”

  “You were not wrong, I’ll be craving these.”

  I store that little bit of information for later.

  “What are your plans for the rest of the day? Tomorrow? Do you have plans?”

  She gives me a funny look that makes me laugh. “What’s tomorrow?”

  “New Year’s Eve?”

  Ashley hits her palm to her forehead. “I swear, I have no concept of time whatsoever.”

  “Something tells me that will change,” I suggest, looking at her stomach.

  She places a hand where my eyes are focused. “Probably. I already think of the pregnancy as spaces of time.”

  “That’s what Josie said, too.”

  “When is she due, again? I know you told me when we were on the phone Christmas Eve.”

  “Like… three days ago?”

  She pulls an eek face. “Oh boy.”

  “Oh boy, is right. She’s driving Dean crazy.”

  “I bet.”

  “Her doctor is taking pity — likely on Dean — because she whined enough so they’ll induce her tomorrow if the baby doesn’t come on its own. My guess, though, is that they won’t need to do that. She’s determined to will that little guy or gal out of her stomach and there’s never been anything Josie hasn’t set out to do that she’s failed at.”

  “She sounds intimidating.”

  Josie? Far from it. Though, from that explanation, I can understand why she would think that. “Nah, she’s not intimidating.”

  “Well, probably not to you. You’ve known her since she was born,” she adds.

  “That’s not the reason she doesn’t intimidate me.” I put my empty muffin plate on the table and lean back, resting my ankle over my knee and stretching an arm over the back of the couch. “She’s just a stubborn ass who doesn’t take no for an answer. But, honestly, she’s been having those fake contractions since Christmas Day and when the doctor checked her the day after he said she was moving in the right direction.”

  “You guys are… super close, huh?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I have two sisters and we talk like that with each other. Like we know about our menstrual cycles and stuff but we’re women. We share random and weird stuff. I can’t imagine sharing the same with a brother.”

  “We’re it for each other, though. She doesn’t have a sister. She has Dean and me. Dean has a lot of sisters but they’re not close with her because they have each other. We tell each other things.” I shrug.

  “Okay, that’s actually kind of sweet.”

  I offer up a toothy grin. “That’s me. Sweet.”

  Ashley rolls her dark brown eyes. They’re darker than mine, and so expressive. She has a few freckles on the bridge of her nose. When she smiles a certain smile, there’s a little dimple in her left cheek.

  She reaches into her coat pocket and pulls out a hair tie, wrapping her long brown hair in one of those messy buns. She makes it look quick and easy and for some reason the short process fascinates me. It looks so complicated, but she just threw it up in twenty seconds.

  She forks up the last of her muffin and asks, “Does your sister know what gender the baby is?”

  “If she does, she hasn’t told me. She said she wanted to find out but the baby was in a weird position during the ultrasound.”

  Her eyes get wide and she slides the fork out of her mouth, chewing rapidly and swallowing. “There’s a chance of that happening? I figured they just keep looking until they know for sure!”

  “Apparently not. I guess that’s something we’ll figure out eventually, right?”

  “Along with about a million other things.”

  “We’re so underqualified. Thank goodness we’re underqualified together.” I joke but there’s a lot of truth to it. What
first time parents are actually qualified, though? “So, you’re on board with finding out the gender for sure, huh?”

  “Like you said earlier, we’ve had enough surprises. Let’s minimize those that we can.”

  “Good plan,” I say, wishing she’d left her hair down so I could twirl my finger in it. The desire hits me hard and swift, and an uncomfortable itch right along with it. Fortunately, my phone rings, breaking into my thoughts.

  I pull it out and see Dean’s contact lighting up my screen.

  “It’s Dean.”

  She bounces and jumps onto her knees on the couch. “You need to get it! Maybe there’s a baby being born right this second!”

  I grin at her eagerness for someone she’s never met. “Relax, relax. I’m answering.” I lift the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

  “It’s time! Get your ass over here now!”

  Quickly shifting, I plant my feet on the floor, my eyes trained on Ashley. “Holy shit. For real?”

  “Of course it’s for real. Did you really think your sister would have let the doctor induce her? She had a plan and you know how stubborn your sister is.”

  Ashley’s watching me closely, leaning in to see if she can hear anything. “It’s time,” I tell her and she squeals.

  “Who are you talking to?” Dean demands to know.

  “Ashley.”

  “Bring her along. Your sister will want her here.”

  “Uhh,” I hedge. “I don’t know. I’ll call you when I get there, okay?”

  “Yeah. Just… hurry. We got here and she’s already at eight centimeters dilated which means it could happen soon.”

  “Okay, well, why don’t I just come over after the baby’s here? I don’t really want to see my sister in labor.”

  Ashley grabs my arm. “No! Let’s go let’s go let’s go!”

  I give her a weird look. “Are you drunk? You want to go to the hospital where you’ll meet my sister for the first time while she’s in labor?”

  “It’ll be a good learning experience for us! What better way to understand what we’re about to get into than watching it firsthand?”

  “You’re drunk. You’re pregnant and you’re drunk. This isn’t a good thing.”