Page 24 of Falling for You

My parents are no angels, and we’re not close, but I’m having a baby, for Christ’s sake. I’m scared and I need them!

“This is Elena,” the woman finally answers, I take a deep breath, hoping I don’t become emotional like I normally do, no thanks to these stupid hormones.

Yesterday I cried when the pizza place forgot my extra olives. Then I gave the poor soul on the other end of the phone a ten-minute sobbing rant expressing how much I needed them, then a further five minutes cursing them out for being so careless with my order then apologizing profusely and tipping them one-hundred dollars out of my savings for my crazy ass behavior. One-hundred dollars I couldn’t really afford to give out because maternity leave pay is crap.

It’s frustrating and uncontrollable, it’s hard because, thanks to my father, I have no one to cry or rant to. Now, I’m beginning to feel tension build when I’m trying to stay calm, knowing I need a level head to talk to this woman.

Crap.

“This is Penelope Vine,” I say firmly and feel quite proud of myself, but then she groans, and I can’t help but narrow my eyes.

“Okay, I’m now going to report you to the police because this is just becoming ridiculous and I honestly believe you are ill,” the woman sighs and my nostrils flare with anger.

How dare she? I am not some crazy woman after a payday. Don’t get me wrong, women probably do call and claim to be pregnant, but not only have I sent her proof of my pregnancy, but I’ve been relentless for months, fricking months. Surely, they don’t try this hard.

I can feel my anger begin to boil, and I snap, “It’s ridiculous, and I’m ill because I’m trying to get through to Taylor Evans to let him know I’m two weeks away from my due date with his child and you’ve blocked me at every turn like some jealous girlfriend!”

She laughs, then shocks me and states, “Taylor knows about your pregnancy. He actually tore up the lawyer’s letter you sent to Billy. You didn’t subpoena him for a DNA test, so he had no legal right to get in touch with you; now, why don’t you go on your merry way and stop harassing me and my client.”

My eyes tear up despite knowing she could be lying but my emotions as usual lately try to take over and a small part of me can’t help but believe her words until what she said kicks in and the woman gives me an idea.

“Okay, I’ll get my lawyer to send a subpoena and demand a DNA test and then let’s see if what you are saying is the truth because, as far as I’m concerned, you’re a jealous lying little bitch who needs a reality check. It’s not me you’re keeping away from him because newsflash I barely even know him but it’s his child!” I growl then hang up and throw my phone making it clunk against the wall before a sharp pain hits my lower stomach and I wince before hanging my head.

“Dammit, I don’t have money to hire a lawyer after buying all the baby stuff, and my dad disowned me,” I say, my tears fall, hating that I let my mouth run with me yet again. I can’t seem to control it since I got pregnant.

Why is she making this so hard? All I want to do is let him know that he’s going to be a father. I’m not asking for a cent or even demanding that he have access; all I want is to inform him so he can make his own decisions and decide if he wants to be involved all while I ignore the pull I have to him.

I look at the TV again, just in time to see Taylor hit the puck into the net. The light above it flashes as he lifts his stick in the air and skates around the net. I swallow hard while wiping my cheeks, but determination fills me as he looks at the camera with a serious face.

“He has a right to know!” I mumble before eyeing my phone on the floor, then look down at my crossed legs and wince.

I need my phone. I need to call my dad, something I haven’t done in seven months. I messaged him on Father’s Day and his birthday, receiving a love heart back each time, but that is it. He’s my dad, and I need his help.

Huffing as I look down at my crossed legs again, I scrunch my nose up. How on earth am I going to get up?

Damn.

Narrowing my eyes, I take hold of my right leg when a knock echoes from my door. I look at it and furrow my browswith confusion because, well, no one comes around. I went on maternity leave before I could make any decent friends.

Unless it’s Chinese food.

“I thought I was just thinking about ordering a Chinese,” I mumble as a knock sounds again. I try my hardest to untangle myself, which is not easy with the bump before me.

I grunt, managing to untangle my legs before I carefully stand and find my balance. Once I have it, I walk to the door. I don’t look through the peephole and open it, but my eyes widen at the figure before me, who, rightly so, looks nervous.

“Hey, sweetheart,” my dad rasps, and I swallow hard. My eyes tear up, my mind unable to believe he’s standing at my door. I don’t know if I’m emotional because it’s him, and he showed up without realizing that I needed him, or because he’s not Chinese food.

A twinge hits my lower stomach, but I ignore it because I really want salt and pepper chicken right now and take in the man before me looking casual. He’s not in a suit for once, just a pair of jeans, a black sweater, and a long coat while holding an envelope.

I clear my throat and answer, “Hi, Dad,” while putting my hand on my large stomach out of instinct, his eyes soften.

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” he says rocking back on his heels.

I shrug and admit, “You weren’t.”

He tilts his head, “You sure? You look kind of disappointed that it’s me standing here. " He gives me a sad smile, “I know I deserve it; I just…”

I cut him off and admit, “I was hoping you were Chinese food, but I think I just thought about ordering it, not actually ordering it,” and he grins wide.

---