Page 24 of Soaring and Saucy

“See? It’s not so hard.”

…And here comes trouble.

He grimaced as two women slapped each other’s arms for attention and pointed to where they were sitting in the corner. Yeah, the two guys waiting at the empty booth probably looked like easy pickings – and a few months ago, that might have been the case. As they got closer, Lance couldn’t stand it.

“That seats are taken ladies… sorry.”

Lance couldn’t do it.

He didn’t even want to talk to someone else when he kept playing out every scenario in his mind when he finally got a chance to talk to Stephanie and hoping that things when well. Maybe Orion was right, and he needed to give the stranger in his corner of the boxing ring a chance to win the fight.

“Good for you,” Orion nodded quietly. “You can get plenty of ‘thinking’ done when you keep yourself focused on what is important.”

“I don’t love her…”

“I didn’t ask you if you did this time around – but if you are here, acting like this, and skipping on the beer and women… maybe you should be asking yourself that question. So, while I might not be right about everything, maybe there’s something there after all.”

As the waitress set down the two cold soft drinks and a basket of peanuts, he looked around at the bar with a fresh set of eyes. He’d been here several times in the past, left with different women, and had fooled around in the bathroom here once before, and now the entire thing just made him feel wretched, disgusting. He was embarrassed, humbled, and mortified to think at just how wild he was not a few months ago – and for the first time in his life, instead of focusing on the ‘now’… he was looking to the future, wondering what it would look like in six or seven months from now.

Looking at Orion, he held up his soda.

“Thank you,” he said simply and he saw Orion nod in unspoken understanding.

“Always, my friend.”

8

STEPHANIE

She must have read the email from Lance ten different times, looking for hidden meaning, comments, suggestions, innuendo, and coming up with nothing— but yet – she still searched. There had to be something up his sleeve in wanting to talk face-to-face. She wasn’t sure she wanted him to come here, witnessing just how panicked and nervous she was.

Having a baby was a major life change and not something that had been on her radar at all. Her one-bedroom apartment would quickly become too tiny. She had thought about working on getting an associate's degree so she could have a chance to earn more money or take a better position, only to find that they wanted more experience and more college than what she could offer – even if she went back to night school.

How would that work anyhow? What would that be like to be seven or eight months pregnant and taking classes? What would it look like a year from now with a baby on her hip?

Only to get another email.

Welcome to Target Baby Registry, Mrs. Cavanaugh!

“What in the…?”

Her voice trailed off as she clicked on it and stared in shock. There on the registry page was a package of diapers, a package of baby wipes, a baby onesie that looked like a sailor, and a dressing gown that had a tiny little star on it that said ‘Mommy’s shining star.’

Stephanie put her hand over her mouth, staring at the screen that blurred before her eyes as a tear splashed onto her phone. Had Lance created a registry for her, for them? Was he implying that he knew already what she wanted to talk about? How did you deal with someone who inherently knew how to get under your skin?

She wanted to be angry, but in truth, Lance scared her. He terrified her in a way she never expected because he could reach her so easily – and she was such a fool when it came to him. He smiled at her, and she dropped all her guards. He crooked a finger, and she came running. He opened a registry, and she was practically melting at his feet.

“Pathetic,” she whispered tearfully, trying to hold on to some semblance of a backbone. “Maybe he shouldn’t visit just so you have at least one iota of strength within you – and you should tell him that,” she continued, staring at the weeping, hormonal woman who was staring back at her. Angrily, she took another bite of celery dipped in a small cup of blue cheese dressing, chasing it with a Flaming Dorito chip and sighing in a mixture of delight and disgust.

She hated celery, blue cheese, and Doritos, but apparently, the baby loved the combination. Her once passionate love of ranch dressing on everything – wings, pizza, french fries – was now one of disgust. You just cannot vomit up something, and it taste normal at the next meal.

Her morning sickness was limited to evenings, strangely enough. She was fine all day long until about seven in the evening when she finally started to slow down. It was like her body said, ‘oh yeah, we’ve got time to yak up our innards now… SO HERE WE GOOOO!’ – and she would hug the toilet for an hour before it eased up.

“Hang onto that frustration and fear,” she whispered encouragingly as she typed. “He ditched you the next morning and never looked you up. He’s not going to stick around and is going to do the bare minimum from Mayport. You’re a single – married, yet single – and a mother. Let’s just face the facts, dummy.”

Lance,

Obviously, you know why I reached out. Thank you for starting the registry. It was thoughtful. I guess I need the password so I can add to it eventually. I’m not asking you for anything, I just thought you should know. I’ve got this handled.

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