Page 23 of Trash the Dress

“I do. Um, how have you been feeling?”

She covers her still-flat abdomen with her hand. “Um, okay. Still some queasiness, but I’ve been able to keep some stuff down. Staying hydrated for sure. I’m not ready for any more trips to the ER.”

“No, I hope you don’t have to do that again. Are you hungry? I can whip up some bacon and eggs if you want. We keep that stuff for burgers. And I’ve got orange juice we use for cocktails,” I tell her.

“I’m okay. I try not to overload my stomach this early, and I already had some oatmeal, but thank you for offering.”

She sets her purse on a barstool and then hops up on one herself. She stares at me cautiously and I stare back in silence. I can’t help but admire how beautiful she is, and I’m thinking if we have a daughter, I hope she looks just like her.

Scarlett breaks the silence. “Um actually, do you have any ginger ale?”

“Sure.”

I round the counter and grab a ginger ale from the kitchen. I set it in front of her and she takes a sip. “Thanks.”

I’m standing on the opposite side of the counter and she’s sitting there with her hands clasped in front of her. I reach out and touch her hands with mine and feel a tingle. She must too because she glances from our hands to my eyes.

“What I was trying to say when you walked in is I’m all in with the baby.”

“You were definitely in when this baby was made,” she giggles before she blushes. “Sorry. I tend to ramble and say weird things when I’m nervous.”

I laugh for the first time since learning about the baby. “I can tell.”

She smiles again, albeit a bit hesitantly this time. “Are you sure?” she asks.

“I’m sure. We’re in this together. But I want you to know, I may not be any good at this. Being a dad, I mean.”

She smiles sweetly. “I’m pretty sure most parents feel that way at some point, but I think you have to go with it. Kind of like the saying ‘fake it till you make it’ or something. Look at it this way, we’re both successful in our jobs.”

She glances around the bar. “You seem to have a thriving business here. And your photography…it’s beautiful.”

“I’m impressed with your job. It suits you,” I tell her to get the focus off me.

“Thanks, I uh, I work with my parents mostly. They’re in real estate and I design houses for their company,” she says.

“Speaking of your parents, what do they have to say about the baby?”

She pulls back and laughs. “Oh no, no, no. You see, they don’t know yet. I needed to figure out where things were with you first.”

“Well, my dad knows. I hope that’s okay. He won’t tell anyone until we’re ready for people to know,” I tell her. Dad is a vault…always has been.

She begins to chew her lower lip again the way she did when she first told me about the baby. “My parents…I don’t want to disappoint them.”

“Won’t they be happy to be grandparents?”

“Sure they will. But me getting pregnant and having a baby out of wedlock…not so happy about that part. I mean, they’ll be supportive and happy for me, for us. It’s just…my mom is basically a saint. My dad is like…my hero,” she says.

“Do you want me to come with you to tell them?” It’s not my favorite idea in the world, but if I’m going to support her and the baby, I may as well start now when she can use it.

“No,” she answers quickly. “Yes?” she says more like a question. “I don’t know. Maybe, if you’d be willing to.”

“Of course. Let me know if you decide you want me there and I’ll come.”

She nods just as I notice a tear slip down her cheek and I catch it with my thumb. “Hey, no need to cry.”

“Sorry. These hormones quadruple my regular emotions,” she tells me.

“No need to apologize either. I can only imagine.”

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