Page 15 of Oops Baby for the Rockstar
I throw my hands up in the air, then snatch for the tub of fish flakes. The lid screws off easily, and then I’m tossing big pinches of flakes onto the pond surface, watching the flashes of orange and white as the fish thrash.
“I mean, what am I even supposed to say?” My cheeks grow hot as I rant, tossing pinch after pinch of flakes onto the water. The pond glugs and sloshes as the fish lunge over each other. “‘Hey, Jett, we only met once, and then I lied to you the whole time then bailed in the morning before you woke up. But now I’m pregnant with your baby, and we’re tied together for life. Surprise!’”
Patty huffs, then punches me lightly on the shoulder. “Yes, Tams. Saying that would be better than nothing. If he’s going to be a dad, he deserves to know. Besides, you know a rock star will be good for child support.” She snatches her tub back. “Now quit wasting my flakes. You’re going to give those fish diabetes.”
“Am not.”
Patty pokes her tongue out at me, and I choke out a miserable laugh then run my hands through my hair, tugging on the strands. As we watch the pond together, standing side by side in the morning breeze, the full disappointment from that phone call spreads through my insides, sickly and wrong.
I failed.
I meant to tell Jett about our baby, and I failed. Chickened out when I heard the rough, low sound of his voice.
And… who am I kidding? If I can’t have one difficult phone call, how am I gonna doanyof this? Being a mom is the hardest job in the world, and I’ve just proven myself to be a giant weenie. My hands move automatically to my stomach, to where—now that I’ve noticed it—the tiniest bump has started to push against my clothes.
Ever since I peed on that fateful stick, I can’t stop touching my stomach, cradling the baby I’m already failing.
Blargh.
“You could call Jett back,” Patty suggests, screwing the tub lid back on carefully. The breeze toys with her hair, carrying the scent of fresh water and green algae. “I bet he’d answer.”
Yeah, maybe. But what would stop me from freaking out and hanging up on him again?
“Or you could write a letter,” Patty says. “I could deliver it to him. That way you can figure out your thoughts, you know? Say exactly what you want to say.”
It’s like one of those cartoons when a light bulb goes on above the character’s head.Ding.That’s it! That’s the answer.
Leaning over, I smack a big kiss on Patty’s cheek. “You’re a genius.”
“Pfft.” She waves me off, but she’s clearly pleased. “Don’t give me too much credit. I’m just the mailman.You’regonna write that letter, missy.”
“I will, I swear. By tonight, Jett Santana will know that I’m knocked up and he’s the dad. Cross my heart.”
In sync, we both draw little crosses over our hearts, then link arms and start strolling back over the grass toward the distant crew bus. It winks in the sunshine, a big ol’ hunk of metal stranded in this green parkland.
“He’s been singing to you,” Patty says suddenly. “Dedicating his songs to you each night.”
My whole body flushes hot, all the way to the roots of my hair. “He has not.”
“Hehas.Look it up online.”
“Shut up.”
“I’m serious. It’s like a movie or something. That man is gone for you, Tams, and this is all gonna work out. I’m calling it now.”
Lapsing into silence, I chew that over for a while, until the buzzy feelings inside me get too overwhelming and I need to change the subject or explode.
“Where did you even get those fish flakes?”
“From the pet store.”
“And you just had them in your luggage? Just in case we found ourselves near a fish pond?”
Patty laughs. “Pretty much. I’ve got a tub of bird seed too. Why?”
“No reason.” Squeezing her arm gently, I hop over a small ant hill in the grass. “But I love you, you weirdo.”
It’s so easy to say it to Patty. So natural to tell my best friend how I feel.
