by Jamie Knight
“Oh, hello,” she said smugly. It was obvious that she wasn't happy to see me. But, it was much too late to turn back.
“I came to see how you were doing,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant, but failing miserably.
“Now you want to see how I'm doing?” she asked, throwing her head back and laughing heartily at her own joke.
“Yes,” I affirmed, undeterred, my eyes locking onto hers. “Despite everything that happened between us, I want you to know that I’ve always cared about you. I promised your dad that I would come to see how you were doing and so here I am.”
“You can tell my dad that I'm fine,” she said nervously. “When did you see him?”
“We had lunch yesterday,” I said. “Don't tell him that I told you that you sent me here. He's worried about you, though. When was the last time that you saw him?”
She blinked a few times as if the questions had offended her.
“What does that matter to you?” she asked icily. “You've seen me. You see that I'm doing well. Now, you can go back and report to my father that you saw me and that I'm fine.”
“Natalia, please don't be angry...” I said, stepping near her. She took a step back.
“Don't,” she said, shaking her head. I paused, not wanting to make her even more upset than she already was. She started breathing faster and it looked like tears were starting to form in her eyes.
“Whoa, it's okay,” I said, backing up with my hands raised as a sign of surrender. “I didn't come here to upset you...”
“Well, then leave,” she said, her voice dripping with emotion.
She might as well have driven a stake through my heart. Her eyes were like knives and she looked like she was about to start foaming at the mouth if I didn't leave. I opened my mouth and started to say something in protest, but decided against it. I knew that there was really nothing that I could do, or say, that would change her mind or make her happy about seeing me.
I don't know why I had any vesper of a thought that she might have been happy to see me, anyway. Clearly, that was my own wishful thinking.
I walked back to my car, my heart sinking lower and lower with each step.
She hated me and now I knew it. There was probably nothing that I could do to change that.
Just before I pulled out of the parking lot, I saw a group of people walk up to her.
“Hey, Natalia,” said one of the girls. “Where ya off to?”
“Oh, just going for a walk,” she said, her smiling creeping back on her face.
She threw a look in my direction like she wanted me to leave, but I was curious and couldn't help but look on to see what was going to happen next. A muscular guy who looked like he could have played football for a professional team walked over to her and threw his arm around her shoulder. She didn't bother to move his arm.
“Here, let me walk you,” he said, dumbly. He looked like he didn't have more than one thought at a time—like the lights were on, but nobody was at home.
“Okay,” she said, pulling his arm around her tighter, sashaying her hips as she walked. Creeping up slowly, then suddenly, rage boiled inside of me. Everything in me wanted to pull the guy off of her and pound his face into the pavement. He didn't have the right to even speak to her, let alone touch her.
But, I was wrong.
It was me who didn't have the right to be angry. She wasn’t my girlfriend. In fact, the reason why things were so strained between us was because I had decided to give up any rights for her affection. I had opted to do the right thing: to leave her completely alone so that we wouldn't have any type of romantic ties. So, even though part of me felt jealous, the reasonable side of me knew that she was free to do as she pleased. And as beautiful and exuberant as she was, it only made sense that guys would chase after her.
If the circumstances were different and I didn't have my gentlemen code to account for, I would have been chasing her.
Instead, I had to wallow in my own misery and take solace in the fact that I had saved face with my friend, James, by leaving his daughter alone. It was a small consolation, to say the least, but it would have to do for now.
I drove away, staring at her and the group as they faded off into the distance.
Part of me wondered if I would ever be happy again.
Chapter 38
Natalia
Thanksgiving was right around the corner and I knew that it was going to be hard to keep avoiding my dad. I sat, staring at the text that he had sent me a few hours before. I still wasn't quite sure how to respond.
I was sixteen weeks pregnant.
The week before, I had had an ultrasound. The medical tech had dropped the wand and gasped a few minutes after placing the cold gel on my belly and waving the thing over my skin.
“What?” I asked her, afraid that something was wrong with the baby. I looked at the black and white screen, trying to figure out what I was even looking at.
“Did you know that you are pregnant with twins?” she asked.
It was my turn to be shocked. I didn't know what to say.
“See, look,” she said, pointing to the screen. There were two little circles that were moving. She told me that those were their heartbeats. I sat there in silence as she took a bunch of pictures, sending me home with a copy of a picture that was labeled Baby A and Baby B.
I still hadn't recovered from the shock of finding out that I was having twins. I had started to show, but I was still able to hide my stomach if I wore clothes that were loose enough. But a few people were starting to catch on. I had already been asked a few times if I was pregnant. I had been able to wave it off, saying that I was eating very well and I was starting to pack on the infamous freshman 15.
I wasn’t sure my dad would be as easy to dismiss.
As I sat debating how I would answer the text, my phone started to ring. Dad
Just answer it, I told myself, trying to get my heart to stop racing. I knew that I should just answer the phone because if I didn't, he was probably going to show up unexpectedly and catch me off guard.
“Hello?” I said, trying to sound as joyful as possible.
“Hey,” said my dad, sounding so sad.
“Hey,” I said, sitting up and listening more intently. “Is everything okay?”
I started to worry immediately. My dad had always been the rock of our family, so hearing him sound so down in the dumps made me think that maybe something serious had happened.
“Oh, I'm fine, I guess,” he said weakly. “I was just calling— I mean, I was wondering if... Are you going to come home for Thanksgiving?”
The way that he asked made me feel so bad. I knew that there was no way that I could say no. It had been months since I had seen him and I really missed him a lot. I just wasn't quite sure what I was going to do regarding him about the fact that I was pregnant, if anything at all.
“Sure, dad, I'll come home for Thanksgiving,” I said. I figured that I was still small enough that I could hide my belly. And as long as it was just my dad and I, I figured that it wouldn't be too much of an issue.
“Great!” he said. I could almost hear him sighing with relief.
“Is it going to be just family?” I asked carefully. He paused as if he were thinking of the right way to answer.
“That was my plan,” he said. “But, if you wanted to bring a boy along, I'm totally fine with that. Just give me a heads up and I'll try to be good.”
I laughed at the thought of my dad being good.
“You mean with a rifle in your lap?” I asked playfully. “No, there won't be a boy. It'll just be little old me.”
I thought of the irony of me calling myself little despite the fact that I had outgrown just about all of my clothes except for a few jogging suits and dresses that fanned out at the waist.
“I can't wait,” he said.
We chatted for a few more minutes before hanging up the phone. I inhaled deeply, my heart content to have spoken to my father after so long. I didn
't realize how much I had missed him until I heard his voice. And I knew that the best thing for me to do was to tell my dad about the babies. What better time to do that than when I came home for Thanksgiving?
I didn't know how he would take the news, but I knew that sooner or later, I would have to face the music. I didn't know exactly what my plan was going to be long-term, but I knew for a fact that I was going to be having two babies. It would be great to have my dad's support.
I knew that he would have questions about the identity of the father, but I definitely had no plans of revealing that information to him. I would find some vague way to say that the father was not going to be involved, which would be all the more reason why I’d need his support.
The more that I thought about, the more convinced that I became that telling my dad about the babies at Thanksgiving was the best thing for me to do.
I had seen so many videos of men finding out that they were going to become grandfathers and getting excited or teary eyed. My dad had never been the type to react that way over any of the news that I had shared with him. But, I couldn't help but wonder how he might react, seeing a child of mine with features shared by both him and my mother.
Thoughts of future Thanksgiving dinners with my babies and my father started to give me hope that things would actually work out for the better. Those happy thoughts stayed with me for the rest of the week as I got mentally prepared to see my dad. I went to the mall and found a burgundy velour sweat suit. It was huge on me, almost falling off it was so baggy. But, it hid my bulky center and widening frame perfectly and was super comfortable.
I was ready.
Chapter 39
Natalia
I showed up at the house early in the afternoon on Thanksgiving and found my dad wrestling with the raw turkey in the kitchen sink.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, barely looking up. “I'm getting the bird prepped to go into the oven now. Happy Thanksgiving.”
He grunted as he ran water over the pale turkey that flopped out of his wet hands into the sink. He kept trying to pick it up, only for it to fall out his hands again. I had to stifle a laugh at the sight of him struggling with a mere turkey, this career military commander. It was sweet.
“Dad, what, uh… what do you have going there…?” I asked, shaking my head.
“I really don't know,” he said, taking a step back from the sink and staring at the bird that lay there helplessly. My dad was trying to do his best.
“How about the rest of the food?” I asked, looking around at the kitchen. There were no smells coming from anywhere that signaled that today was Thanksgiving.
When my mother had been alive, she was in charge of making sure that dinner was cooked for the holidays. She would start about a week in advance, planning out each dish so that it was perfect. No matter where or what we were doing, we always had a full house for the holidays. People loved coming to our house because my mother would cook every side imaginable and never turned anyone away. There was one year that it was pretty much standing room only until it got dark and then everyone started to go on home. It was packed and a little uncomfortable, but our house was always warm and full of love.
Looking around at our empty kitchen made me feel a sense of pity for us that I hadn't felt before. I felt particularly sad for my father, who had been used to either having huge holiday dinners or spending the holidays with his crew in the Air Force. We had eaten plenty of meals together just the two of us, but this was the first time that we had been sharing a holiday dinner together. Alone.
I decided to put him out of his misery and take over.
“Why don't you go into the living room and watch football while I whip up some dinner?”
He looked up at me as if he were trying to see if I was serious.
“Are you sure you don't need my help?”
I hugged my dad and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
“Dad, to be honest, I am surprised that you even remembered to thaw out the turkey,” I said, patting him on the back. “I'll take it from here. You go take a load off and relax.”
My dad's eyes started to glimmer.
“Do you remember that Thanksgiving when we were living in Florida?”
I smiled, thinking back to that year. I was ten years old. It had been a particularly hot summer riddled with tons of hurricanes that left many of our neighbors' homes in shambles. But, my mother, being who she was, had invited the whole block over for Thanksgiving and I was almost sure that, with all of the people that were in our house, everyone had showed up. My dad had been deployed overseas, so he wasn't around. The only place that I found any real peace was in my room, so I hid out there most of the time.
All of a sudden, the door of my room opened and a giant frame filled the doorway.
“Excuse me, sir,” I said, trying not to panic. “This room is off limits.”
“Is it?” came the playful response.
“Dad!” I said, running across the room and jumping into his arms. I melted while he hugged me, clinging onto him for dear life. I was so happy to see him and surprised at the same time. That memory made me feel all warm inside. My mother had been so happy that she cried when she saw him.
“I don't know what made me really insist that they send me home then,” my dad said, thinking back. “But, something in me knew that I needed to be home. And I am so glad that I did. Your mother kept hugging me, almost like she thought that I was a ghost or something, like I would disappear if she didn't keep hugging me.”
My dad laughed easily. The smile quickly faded and was replaced by a sadness. It pained my heart to see him so sad.
“Yeah, that was awesome,” I said, trying my best to sound cheerful, hoping that my dad would hang on to the thought of the happy memory. “Mom talked about that for years.”
“Yeah, she did,” he nodded, flashing me a smile. But, I could still see the pain hiding behind his eyes.
I put the turkey in a roasting pain, slathering it with butter and seasoning it like my mother used to do, and put it in the oven. I looked over at my dad and noticed that his eyes were a little wet. I was holding back tears myself and didn't want to make it worse by letting them out.
“Aren't you supposed to be watching football?” I asked my dad, putting my hands on my hips.
He shook his head.
“You're right,” he said, walking off in the direction of the living room.
I turned around and looked at the empty kitchen and shook my head. I knew that my dad wasn't going to have a huge spread for Thanksgiving like my mother did. I rummaged through the cabinets looking for food that I could use as sides. I found a few boxes of macaroni and cheese, instant mashed potato flakes, and some cans of green beans. It wasn't going to be a gourmet meal, but it would be enough for just my dad and I. I grabbed some flour out of the cabinet and looked for a recipe for pie crust. There was a bunch of apples on the counter that were starting to have brown spots, so I figured that I could make a pie.
I put on some music and started mixing ingredients into a bowl. It felt good to be back at home with my dad.
I grabbed the rolling pin from the cabinet under the sink and dumped the dough out on the floured counter top. I went to work, kneading it and rolling it so that it was flat. I looked down at my work with a self-satisfied smile on my face. It felt good to put to use the skills that my mother had taught me. I thought that it was perfect practice for when the babies were born and I have children of my own. I rubbed my belly absentmindedly as I looked over the smooth surface of the dough.
I jumped with surprise when I heard the doorbell ring.
“Are you expecting someone?” I yelled to my dad in the other room. He didn't answer.
“Hey, there!” called out a voice that I knew, a voice that made my stomach churn.
I had to reach out and grab the counter to steady myself because I felt faint as the realization set in of whose voice I had heard.
Bradley.
Chapter 40<
br />
Natalia
I clutched my belly instinctively, starting to panic a little at the thought of being so close to the father of my children. What if he noticed that I was pregnant? My first thought was to make some excuse about why I had to leave and hightail it out of there right away.
I shook my head, telling myself to be serious. There was a slim chance that he would even notice that I was pregnant. Even my dad had assumed that I was just gaining the infamous freshman fifteen.
“It's good to see that you have a healthy appetite,” he had said. “But, you know, you don't have to eat everything that you see.”
I had simply laughed it off, glad that somehow I had sideswiped an uncomfortable conversation that I had been still gearing myself up mentally to have.
Now that Bradley had shown up, I knew that there was no way that I was going to attempt to have this conversation. My goal was to get through dinner long enough so that I can make my exit as quickly as possible. The thought of being around Bradley, knowing that I was pregnant while he had no idea started to make me feel nauseous. I hadn't felt nauseous in weeks.
I went over to the sink and splashed some water on my face, hoping that it would wake me up from whatever nightmare I was having. When that didn't work, I walked on wobbly legs back over to the counter where I had rolled out the pie crust. The counter came up almost to my chest, so my belly was covered when I stood in front of the counter.
“Guess who decided to join us for dinner?” called my dad gleefully, walking into the kitchen with his hand on Bradley's shoulder. “I had invited him a few weeks back, but never heard from him either way if he was going to take me up on it.”
“That's great,” I said happily, but while gathering up the dough and forming it back into a ball. I started kneading it again, being careful not to make eye contact with Bradley. I kept working the dough, hoping that they didn't notice my hands shaking.
