Knocked-Up Cinderella
Page 15
“I’m gonna be a dad,” I shouted.
Tommy spun around. “What?”
Shelly gave one more desperate tug on Tommy’s arm.
He brushed her off and stepped toward me. “What did you say?”
“I’m gonna be a dad,” I repeated. “In, like”—I checked my watch—“two months.”
Tommy stared at me as the news sank in. Then a huge grin took over his face and he lunged for me, wrapping me in a huge hug. “Congratulations,” he yelled right at my eardrum.
I pushed him away, rubbing my ear, which was now ringing. “Thank you.”
Tommy threw a few bills on the bar. “Let’s go get some food.”
And that was that. Tommy had transformed back into a family man.
We took a car to Au Cheval, where, miracle of miracles, we got two seats at the bar right away. Okay, maybe no miracles were involved. Tommy knew a guy, who knew a guy. We ordered burgers, beers, and chicken wings. I relaxed immediately. This night had suddenly slowed to more my speed.
“I want to know everything.” Tommy tossed a chicken bone to the plate. “What happened? Who is she? All of it.”
I grinned. Somehow Tommy, the guy who, a few hours ago, had been ready to throw in the towel on his marriage, was the first person to really show enthusiasm for my impending fatherhood.
“Well, it was an accident, obviously. But we’re both really excited.” I sipped my beer.
“Who’s the ‘we’?”
“Erin,” I said. “Sharpe?” I wrinkled my nose, waiting for his reaction.
“The principal of Glenfield Academy!” Tommy was having trouble controlling the volume of his voice. “You knocked up the principal?!” The grin on his face reached his ears.
I shushed him. “Yes. I knocked up the principal.”
“That is so… Oh my God!” His voice finally lowered. “Honestly, she seems really cool.”
I grinned. “She is really cool.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Are you two…?”
I shook my head as my eyes stung. “We’re just friends.”
Tommy nodded as he bit into his cheeseburger. Egg, cheese, and grease dripped onto his plate. “And she’s okay with that?”
I laughed. “She’s fine with it. She’s been super firm on the whole keeping-our-distance thing. I invite her over all the time to hang out, but she says no.”
Tommy placed his hand on mine. “Dude, are you okay with being just friends?”
My throat had constricted again. “Yes” was the correct answer. “Yes” was what Erin and I had agreed upon. But I couldn’t lie to my best friend. “No.” I shook my head. “I’m not okay with it.”
“Dude!” Tommy clutched my shoulder and shook it. “You’re in love!”
I held up a hand. “I’m not in love. I am…in like and respect with the woman who is carrying my child. I want to be around for him.”
“And her. You love her.”
My eyes swept the room. “Shut up with the love stuff,” I whispered.
“Ian, being in love is great.”
“Says the guy who almost cheated on his wife with a woman wearing Uggs less than an hour ago.”
He waved me off. “‘Almost’ is the operative word. I wasn’t going to go through with it.”
Sure he wasn’t.
“The stuff I said before, that was just me venting.” Tommy munched on his pickle. “I love Susie, I do. But it’s not easy being in a relationship and having a kid. That’s simply the truth. There are good days and bad. You only have to worry when the bad start outpacing the good.”
“And you still have more good days than bad?”
He nodded, mouth crammed with cheeseburger. “Susie and I are both so sleep-deprived that we’re constantly doing stupid shit. She got a tattoo. Did I tell you that?”
Wide-eyed, I shook my head. Susie had once gone on a tirade about a small shamrock tattoo her little sister had gotten on her ankle.
“Of Frasier.” He pointed to the inside of his upper arm. “Because that’s what she watches in the middle of the night while nursing Maeve. Now she has Kelsey Grammer’s face near her armpit to remind her…forever.”
I dragged a fry through my ketchup puddle. “So…are you going to tell her about tonight?”
“I don’t want to.”
I slapped him on the arm. “Of course you don’t want to, you jackass. But don’t you think you should?”
“Don’t you think you should tell Erin how you feel?”
“You nearly cheated on your wife tonight. You and Susie need to talk about that—whether on your own or with a counselor.”
“And you have feelings for your baby mama. Shouldn’t you two discuss that?”
I stared at myself in the mirror behind the bar. Erin and I had promised each other brutal honesty, no matter what. And here I was hiding a gigantic secret from her—that it killed me every time she shot me down, that I missed seeing her, that she had ruined me for all other women. If I told her these things, she’d laugh and tell me I was being foolish. She’d claim I only had these feelings because she was playing hard to get and that they’d disappear once I had her.
And maybe she’d be right.
That was the risk, wasn’t it?
Tommy, who was still pretty drunk at this point, pulled out his phone and dialed his wife’s number. “Hi, honey. I almost cheated on you tonight but didn’t… Mmm-hmm… Mmm-hmm. Okay.” He hung up. “She says I have to come home immediately.”
“That sounds about right.”
He raised his eyebrows at me. “And now you’re going to call Erin…”
“I’m not going to call a pregnant lady in the middle of the night.”
“Fair enough.” Tommy hugged me, grabbed his stuff, and beelined it for the door. I paid the tab and called a car.
On the drive home, I stared at my text conversation with Erin. “Are you up?” I typed and deleted that immediately. Of course she wasn’t up. “Can we talk sometime?” I erased that, too. Her answer would be no. It was always no.
I couldn’t handle another rejection. The only course of action was to keep my feelings to myself, until my desire for her finally ran its course, like she knew it would.
…
Erin
“Congratulations, Meg!”
I handed an envelope containing a substantial Amazon gift card to our sixth grade teacher, who’d just gotten her master’s degree. She took it from my hand and bowed slightly to the rest of the faculty and staff, who’d gathered in the school library for our end-of-year milestone party. Today we were celebrating weddings, anniversaries, babies, and graduations. Significant others had been invited—Nat and Chris had huddled together at one of the back tables. I focused on the task at hand, passing out gifts to my employees. I was Santa Claus without the beard. Though I did have the round belly.
“Tim Courtland, our seventh grade English teacher, and his wife, Gemma, are expecting their first child this summer. We have a lovely gift for you—a pack-and-play!”
Tim took his wife’s elbow and helped her up to where I stood at the front of the room. Gemma and I were due on the same day—July 16th. But she had a partner to hold her hand. I had no one. Not that I needed anyone, but I’d never even had the option of anyone holding my elbow while I walked anywhere.
I blinked back tears.
“Congratulations, Tim and Gemma!”
I gazed out at the crowd, ready to announce the next gift, but a silhouette in the doorway caught my eye. It had to be a mirage. I turned my head and then turned back. He was still there. Ian.
I touched my chest where my heart now pumped double time. I hadn’t invited him. How was he here? I tried to send an SOS to Natalie, but she was too busy licking frosting off Chris’s fingers.
Katie pulled a chair behind me and gently pushed me into it. “My turn,” she said into the microphone. “Our fearless leader, Erin, is pregnant with her first baby, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
The entire
staff chuckled. Of course they’d noticed. I was a house.
I rolled my eyes, wrapping my arms around my stomach.
“We hemmed and hawed about what to get her, because she’s not a woman who needs much. So.” Katie handed me an envelope.
Staring at her, I ripped it open. They’d pitched in and made a donation in my name to the Glenfield Gala to support the fine arts programs at both Glenfield Academy and my old school. I touched my heart again. “This is so sweet,” I said.
“And I bought the cute espadrilles on your registry for myself…in your name.” Katie leaned down and hugged me.
“Did you invite Ian?” I whispered in her ear.
“Oh, that was the other part of your present,” she whispered. “Guess I forgot to mention it.”
She handed the microphone back to me. Ian still lurked in the doorway, probably wondering what the hell he was doing here. Katie, who had been helping Maria Minnesota with Gala stuff, had run into Ian at a meeting. He’d asked about me, because, duh, of course he had. I was carrying his child, and she was my roommate/sister. It would’ve been weird if he hadn’t asked about me. But she insisted there’d been more behind the inquiry, that he’d been—her words—pining for me.
I’d laughed and laughed and laughed.
But Katie’d won the match. She’d managed to get Ian and me in the same room.
I reached for the nearest box. “Our next gift goes to someone who needs no introduction—Glenfield Academy’s own Natalie Carter.” I winked. “Oh, and her fiancé, Chris.”
Nat and Chris, hand-in-hand, danced through the crowd up to me, and I handed them a crystal vase they had wanted from Tiffany’s.
Nat hugged me. “Did you see Ian’s here?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“What’s he doing?”
“Katie invited him.”
Nat pulled away and looked me in the eye. “Maybe he’s here to make some big, sweeping love proclamation.”
I whispered in her ear, “You’re not getting that SMARTboard. Not on my watch.”
Besides, Ian Donovan did not have feelings for me beyond a general sense of curiosity.
Which was exactly how I felt about him.
He was hot and smart and funny, but he’d break my heart if I let him, and I’d gotten out of that business.
Ian grabbed a plate of food and sat with Nat and Chris while I finished handing out presents. After I’d dispensed the last gift, he lurked near the back, waiting for me, but I’d been bombarded by several staff members who wanted to chat. This was my life, Ian. I couldn’t just drop everything when you decided to show up.
But damn it, I wanted to.
Though, at the same time, his presence scared me shitless. What had he come here to say? We hadn’t spoken face-to-face in months. Tonight he’d come to…what? Tell me he’d met someone? That he’d changed his mind and decided he wanted nothing to do with me or our son?
After most of the crowd had cleared out, I started cleaning up my own mess—my plate and napkin and cup of half-drunk decaf. Ian snatched the plate from my hands.
“I’ve got it,” he said. “You should sit. Aren’t your legs killing you?”
My face flushed. He remembered that my varicose veins hurt like hell. I sat in the armchair Katie’d procured for me earlier.
Ian scurried around, picking up the mic and a few other rogue Dixie cups. He’d come from work wearing a pair of khaki pants and a multicolored button-down. He looked great, honestly. The guy was in perfect shape. And I was sitting over here with a basketball under my dress and legs the size of an elephant’s.
He wiped his hands together. “Anything else? You need me to move some tables?”
The place had cleared out, leaving the mess for me and the cleaning crew. Thanks, guys. Way to be cool. “Do you mind?” I said. “I’d do it myself…”
Ian waved me off. “You sit there and tell me where to put stuff. I’ve got this.”
I had the best seat in the house, watching Ian in his perfectly fitted pants bend over and push library tables around. He’d even rolled up his sleeves, revealing muscular forearms. After he’d moved the last table, he ran a hand through his dark hair. “Anything else?”
Rising from my seat, I pointed to the food table. “We should take that to the kitchen, leave it for the cleaning crew.”
“I can do it,” he said.
“I’ll help.” I consolidated the veggie trays. “Walking is good for me.”
He put the cake remnants back in the bakery box.
“It’s good to see you.” I stared hard at the broccoli in front of me.
“I’ve missed you,” he said.
Our forearms brushed against each other, and he jumped away as if startled. “How have you been feeling?”
“Okay.” I shrugged. “Fat, disgusting.”
He turned to me. “You look beautiful.”
I giggled. “You’re full of shit.”
Ian’s eyes were dead serious. “I mean it.”
He knocked the wind out of me.
Ian reached for a bag he’d apparently left behind the table and pulled out a long, thin box wrapped in silver and tied with a blue bow. “The wrapping reminds me of your Cinderella outfit the night we first met.”
He placed the box in my hands and I stared at it. “What is this?”
“A little something,” he said. “A push present. Isn’t that what they’re called?”
Staring warily at him, I opened the box. “Holy shit.” My hand jumped to my mouth. This was not a little something. This was a massive topaz surrounded by diamonds.
Ian reached for the necklace, stepped toward me, and fastened it around my neck.
I touched the pendant. “Why?” I said.
“Because I wanted to do something nice for you. You work so hard, and you’re always thinking about other people. I wanted to show you someone was thinking about you.”
At that moment, I stopped thinking and lunged for him, wrapping my arms around his waist and touching my lips to his.
Chapter Eleven
Ian
I pulled away from Erin, which took all the strength in me. “What are we doing?”
Her blue eyes gazed up at me. “I don’t know what you’re doing, but I’m kissing you.”
“Because I gave you a necklace?” The necklace had only meant to say, “I appreciate you.” I hadn’t bought it to get her back into bed. “That wasn’t why I—”
“I know.” Her fingers played with the middle button on my shirt, which she focused on like it held the darkest secrets of the universe. “You’re right. This is a bad idea.”
I took her hands in mine. “I never said it was a bad idea.” Kissing her was the best idea. I couldn’t come up with a better one—not renewable energy, not an unbreakable cell phone, not self-replenishing beer.
“But we promised each other we’d stay friends…”
“We also said we’d be brutally honest.” I tilted her chin up. “The truth is, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Every time I invited you over and you shot me down, it agonized me. I tried going out with my friends, tried to recapture some of my old life, and all I could think about was you.”
Erin stared at me, breathing harder. Her hard stomach tapped against mine. And then she was on her toes again, kissing me, but this time I went along with it. Until she finally pulled away.
“Damn it.” She picked up a rogue plastic spoon on the buffet table. “We really can’t do this. I’ll lose the bet with Nat.”
I chuckled. “If that’s the only thing holding you back, I’ll buy her the damn SMARTboard.”
Erin grinned. She looked ready to pounce, ready to jump into my arms, but since she was eight months pregnant, she stepped gingerly toward me, and I met her halfway.
“We can go to my place,” I said, as she dragged me by the hand down the desolate Academy corridor, lined by the first and second grade classrooms.
“No time,” she said. “We’l
l go to my office.”
“We’re going to have sex in the principal’s office?”
“Shhh!” She glanced around nervously, probably making sure no one was here. I laughed again, relishing the joy of being with Erin. My whole body lightened around her. My problems disappeared, and jokes and fun and happiness replaced them.
She shut the door behind us and locked it.
I eyed her desk. “Can I do the whole sweep everything onto the floor thing?”
Erin stepped over and plucked several items off the desktop—laptop, crystal award of some kind, a bulky manila folder. She looked over her stuff one more time. “Okay. Now you can.”
I swiped everything to the floor. Paperclips rained down to the carpet. Her nameplate clanked against the side of her metal desk. Then I lifted her onto the empty surface and kissed her hard, as if it were both the first and last time.
Afterward, we cuddled naked together in her swivel chair, my legs propped up on her desk, hers hanging over one of the arms. James moved under her skin.
“You look like a gremlin about to multiply,” I said, touching the spot on her belly that had just jutted out. It looked like James was trying to kick his way out of there.
“And…we’re done.” She started to stand, but I held her tight against me.
“In a good way!” I laughed.
She scowled at me. “I look like a reproducing gremlin…in a good way?”
I hugged her around the waist and kissed her neck. “Yes.”
“Well, okay then.” She nuzzled her cheek against mine. “We should do this again.”
“Now?” I glanced down at my lap. “I need a minute.”
“Not now,” she said. “We should probably GTFO before the cleaning crew wants to get in here.” She nibbled my earlobe. “I mean, we should do this again tomorrow…and the day after that.”
Fuck. Tomorrow.
“About that.” A bitter taste rose to my throat, as I ran a finger down her smooth, milky upper arm. “I’m not going to be here tomorrow.”
She pulled away slightly and glared at me in her no-nonsense principal way. “Metaphorically or physically?”