Page 25 of Daddy's Best Friend

Two lines meant more shame than I was able to endure.

Tears burned my eyes; I couldn’t move or breathe. My gaze stayed locked on that tiny plastic wand wondering how many women in this world would love to see that, and here I was feeling like my world had just ended. I heard the stories my mother told me about her sisters losing babies, miscarrying, otherwise not being able to conceive. I felt guilt that this event was happening to me and I found it to be so life changing it hurt.

I tossed the test into the trash can and retreated back to bed, still wearing my dress slacks and silk blouse from work. I didn’t care if they wrinkled, or if I had to pay to have them dry cleaned again. I didn’t care if my makeup was smudged or my hair got fussed, or even if I didn’t eat dinner. I reeled in shock, burrowing into the blanket like a small rodent needing a place of safety.

Alan would be furious with me.

My father would disown me.

My mother would pity me—that was the worst one.

I could handle the anger and frustration. I could own my mistake, take responsibility for my action, but pity? I hated pity.

And Trevor… I clenched my eyes shut, wondering what the gossip crowd would say when they found out. I had worked hard to make sure my reputation stayed on the up and up. I never letpaparazzi get images of me in any sexual situation, even when I was dating Paul. I wasn’t a whore. I just drank a lot.

Oh, God. I had gone drinking, and was I pregnant already?

The thought brought tears to my eyes. Tears I couldn’t stop. I lay there sobbing, feeling sorry for myself as I thought of the way Alan had gotten up and left me that morning a few weeks ago. I lay here dreaming about our future out loud, and he just got up and left without warning. What if he didn’t want what I wanted? He hadn’t told me he had feelings too. He hadn’t said anything. He had just gotten up and left like I hadn’t just told him I had feelings for him.

My pillow and blanket grew damp from the tears, and I had to grab some toilet paper to blow my nose. I made my way to the bathroom, treading lightly because I hadn’t even turned any lights on since I got home. It was growing darker out, and the light in the guest house was dim. I heard a knock on the door, and I froze.

“Ella?”

Alan stood on the other side of the door. I could see his silhouette through the small window. I ducked into the bathroom quietly and stifled my cries, using a bath towel over my face to mop up the snotty mess I’d made. I was in no shape to see him right now. When I told him about this, I wanted to have had time to process what to say, how to say it, and how to react.

He knocked again and I made sure to stay silent. All the lights were off. And when he cracked the door, I pressed myself against the bathroom wall and prayed he didn’t come into the guest house. I even held my breath in case he could hear me. I heardhim sigh and then the door shut, but just for good measure, I waited a few more minutes before peeking out into the room.

He was gone, and I was alone.

The bed called my name, but I knew he’d come back. I didn’t want to deal with it tonight. I didn’t even know how to deal with it. So, I sat on the edge of my bed and with trembling fingers I dialed my mom’s number.

“Ella, are you still coming for dinner?” She was chipper as always, and I couldn’t keep the floodgates closed. I needed my mom’s comfort.

“Yeah… Mom, can I come home?” I sobbed, praying that Alan had returned to the house and was not standing outside the guest house listening to me.

“Of course, dear. We’re expecting you for dinner. Do you need a ride?” I heard the garbage disposal or vacuum running—I couldn’t tell which. The background noise probably drowned out my cries. It was the only reason why she would have ignored my attempt to ask for comfort.

“Mom, I mean. Can I move home?” I sniffled and waited, hoping she understood me.

“What’s wrong, Ella?”

The background noise ceased, and the line crackled with tension. I could tell her the truth, or I could keep it a secret, but I needed someone to talk to. If I tried talking to any of my friends, I knew how that would go. I’d be the talk of town, and Trevor would hear and tell Alan.

“Mom, I’m pregnant and I just need to be with you and Dad right now.” The only way out of this was through it.

I waited for Mom to respond, but she was silent. It felt like my world was spinning out of control. Not knowing how she felt was worse than waiting for that damn test to process. Those pink lines had nothing on my mother’s wrath when she was angry with me, and I expected that she was very enraged by my choices and mistakes.

“Whose is it?” She was calm at least, not shouting, though her tone belied a hint of frustration at the very least.

I bit my lip. I couldn’t tell her the truth because Dad would literally kill Alan. I had seen how angry he got when he found out I snuck out junior year in high school with Killian Welch. He would have physically assaulted the boy if his father hadn’t shown up when I snuck back in.

“It was Trevor, wasn’t it?” I could see the scowl on her face as she said the words. “Goddammit, Alan. You know, Ella, that boy needs to keep his dick in his pants. I heard he got Vicki Schwepe pregnant last year and she had an abortion. Alan covered it up by paying for everything and Vicki’s parents were furious.”

That bit of shocking news barely affected me. I knew of Vicki, and I’d heard some rumors about her but hadn’t heard it was related to Trevor. Given his pushy nature with me lately, I didn’t doubt it was true. But Alan? Offering her an abortion to make it go away?

If he was willing to go through that to keep Trevor’s mistakes from going public, would he do that to me too?

“Mom, I just want to come home.” I refused to bring Alan into this. Mom could not know right now who the father was. And if she wanted to believe it was Trevor, I’d let her think what she wanted.

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