Page 47 of Baby for Dr. Damaged

“Dad,” hisses Amanda, her cheeks flaring red with embarrassment.

“I’m well aware of how old she is,” I tell Lawrence. “She’s an adult. We both are. And we have something special, Lawrence. I don’t want to cheapen my time with her by not making her mine. Let me ask her—”

I’m cut off by knuckles slamming into my jaw, pain blasting through my face, and my legs flying out from under me. It turns out that Lawrence has a killer right hook. I think that he told me once, ages ago, that he did boxing in college.

It shows.

I hit the ground, hard. Lawrence shakes out his hand. “Shit!”

“What the hell!” Amanda throws herself across the room and drops onto the ground next to me.

She helps me sit up. I press a hand to my smarting cheek. The inside of my lower lip hit the ridge of my teeth and split, leaving the copper tang of blood in my mouth. “That’s going to leave a mark.”

“Dad!” Amanda shouts. “What are you doing?”

“You’ve been my friend for years,” Lawrence says, so angry that his face is red. “And you think that it’s appropriate to come onto my daughter like that?”

Amanda’s mouth drops open. “Did you hit him because we’re dating?”

“Amanda,” I say, waving a hand at her. Talking makes my mouth hurt worse. I can feel the tightness in my skin as it starts to swell and bruise.

“Dating?” Lawrence balks at the statement.

Amanda stands up and then helps me to my feet before turning onto her father. “Yes! Dating! You can’t just— What’s gotten into you?”

“He’s old enough to be your father,” Lawrence spits out, looking absolutely appalled by the idea.

“I am,” I tell him, pausing to roll my jaw a few times. “But I’mnot.” Before Lawrence can continue denouncing the union on age alone, I say, “I have enough money to support her for the rest of her life, I love her unconditionally, and Bonnieadoresher. What does it matter how old I am? For fuck’s sake, Lawrence, she’s not a child.”

“She’s my child,” Lawrence counters.

“I’m an adult, Dad,” says Amanda, with a heavy sort of sigh. She steps backward, tangling her fingers with my own. “And that means I’m more than capable of making my own decisions. And Jackson’s my decision.”

Lawrence flounders for a few moments, looking between us, clearly lost. I say, “Amanda, you should tell him.”

Amanda takes a deep breath. “I don’t know what started this whole fight, but you need to figure out how to get over it. Jackson and I have been seeing each other for a while.”

“You never said anything,” Lawrence says, sounding hurt.

Amanda says, “Look how you reacted today! Of course I didn’t say anything!” And then, “I was going to tell you. Soon. Because…” She uses her free hand to press her palm to her still flat belly. “I’m pregnant, Dad. You’re going to have a grandson.”

If it was a cartoon, Lawrence’s jaw would have fallen off and hit the floor. I’ve never seen a man look so surprised. “What?”

“And right now—” Amanda cuts herself off, voice choked. “Right now, he’s sick. Like Harris.”

Seeing the grief already trying to take hold of Lawrence’s expression, I’m quick to say, “I’m going to pull a few strings, see if I can get him into the trial with your son. If we can treat it early enough, he won’t have the same complications that Harris has had.”

“That’s why he’s been working so hard,” Amanda says, leaning against me. Her eyes are glistening with tears. “Because he wanted to make sure that his family was taken care of. That I was taken care of. Jackson’s a good man. And I love him, a lot.”

Lawrence just shakes his head again, finally sinking back down onto the couch. Her mother finally manages to get all of the pots off the stove and comes out. “What’s going on?”

“It’s alright,” I tell her. “Everything’s fine.”

“Jackson,” she gasps when she sees me. “Your face!” She seems to piece things together instantly, turning to her husband. “Lawrence, what did you do?”

“Really,” I insist. “It’s alright.”

Amanda gives my hand one last squeeze and then goes to sit down next to her father. She puts a hand on his shoulder, reassuringly. “Dad?”

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