Page 77 of Christmas with the Baby Daddy

“Okay!” He rushed at me to hug me tight, then hurried into line.

I’m sorry I haven’t been here all this time.

But that wasn’t only my fault. It was Blake’s. It was both of us at fault.

Now, there was only the future, and I would be here for it.

I watched him walk down to the library, so fucking proud of him and how Blake had raised him that my heart could burst. After they entered the library, I slipped into the audience.

George’s turn came, and when he stood up to announce his family, I stood and cut through the crowd. Taking my place to stand next to my boy, I looked at the crowd of Vernford parents. Most were shocked at the clear implication that I was giving them, that I was George’s father, but I didn’t care. I took George’s hand and held it tight, honored to be his dad.

31

BLAKE

Isat hunched over on the floor of the bathroom, zoned out. Fear and panic kept me captive. They paralyzed me as a familiar refrain of questions punched me.

How?

When?

What will I do?

What will he do?

Just how?

Why didn’t the pills work?

Why did this have to happen now?

Over and over, they ping-ponged in my mind, nauseating me with more stress I didn’t welcome. The coffee I drank didn’t settle well, and I fought the urge to puke. I struggled with George in that first trimester, and I tried to do the math of when this baby could’ve been conceived.

Zach had only been back in town so long. We’d only had sex so many times. I knew it only took once, but still, the odds seemed so far off.

We’d spent years apart, and the second he was near, it was as though we were pushed together by a magnetic force of attraction.

What will he say?

What will he think?

How will I afford this?

Jenny had been so understanding when I was ill in the pregnancy, and then she was a saint after George was born and then in the NICU. My dreams of opening my own business would crumble to a finer dust now. And getting a new job? That was out of the question.

As I tried to breathe through the stress eating away at me, I focused on seeking some sense of calm. Tuning out all the questions and worries wasn’t easy, but I let myself sink down and just sit to get through this panic and dread churning my stomach.

What if… what if this just pushes him further away? What if he thinks I’m trying to trap him here?

I dismissed those thoughts, stubborn enough to believe in the love that kicked in between us, but I couldn’t know. I was only guessing and speculating.

I lost the urge to puke in the end, turning to heave into the toilet. Heat swept over my skin. I was flushed, burning up, and I worried I could be screwed with the stomach bugandpregnancy symptoms. That would just be my luck.

I groaned, resting my arm on the toilet seat for so long that I ceased to keep track of time. Spent and depleted of energy, I slumped there and willed my stomach and mind to calm down.

“Blake?”

I winced, realizing I’d zoned out and almost dozed to the point I hadn’t heard the front door open. I recalled opening it to check the mail, but I guessed I didn’t lock it.

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