Page 28 of Daddy's Best Friend

“I am not ready.” I looked down into my glass as Mom sighed loudly.

“Well how will your father address this with Trevor or Alan if you don’t just out and tell him?” Her tone changed from comforting mother to snappy old woman in about two seconds. I cringed. I knew it was coming—I had it coming. I had fucked up really badly, and now not only did I have to take the heat, but I had to tell the truth. It wasn’t Trevor’s.

“Tell who what?” Dad strutted in, ditching his suit jacket on the back of a chair before kissing Mom on the cheek. He looked at us with a happy, eager expression. The maid carried the servingdish of soup and set it on the table, followed by the fresh-baked bread. She nodded politely and backed out of the room.

I watched her go wishing I could vanish with her. I had made a mistake by coming home. I wouldn’t be showing for months. I’d have had time to think all this through and make a plan for telling Alan in my timing. Now, because I had been weak and broke down crying and called my mother for comfort, I was being forced to move so fast my head spun.

“Nothing,” I hissed, burying my face in my hands. I heard the clinking of silverware against bowls and knew Mom was busying herself filling the dishes for us to eat. When she felt like conflict was coming, she distracted herself with work. It had always been that way. I hated it. I wanted her to stand up for me, defend me against Dad’s angry harsh reaction, and I knew she never would.

“Does this have something to do with Alan? The way you didn’t call in to work? Have you cleared that up yet?” Dad sat, the chair squeaking as he lowered his full weight onto it.

I lowered my hands in shame but didn’t look up. If I said nothing Mom would do it for me. At least that much I knew.

“Well, spit it out. What’s going on?” His tone was no longer happy, but in fact, had become quite harsh already and he didn’t even know what was going on.

“Dear…” Mom’s placating tone did not soothe me at all. She was only talking that way to keep him from thinking she was at fault in any way. “Ella has something to tell us.”

I felt her eyes bore into my body, but I didn’t look up. I was so hurt and angry I couldn’t even stand the thought of looking at her. In her mind, telling my father was the only thing to do, because he would have the answer to a problem—a circumstanceshe couldn’t control. To me, telling my father was not only not necessary, but an invasion of my privacy.

“Ella?” I looked up when he said my name. “What is it?” This time his tone was stern, but not harsh. Still, I couldn’t bring my lips to form the words.

“She’s pregnant, dear. Trevor… It’s shameful really. He’s just a menace. You remember what he did to that poor Vicki girl a few months back…” She clicked her tongue, and I held my breath. I couldn’t correct her. The instant anger stewing in my father’s expression made me realize that if they knew it was Alan, I’d be homeless, or Alan would be dead. Or both.

“My god, Ella.” He hung his head. The anger I thought I’d hear was not there. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “How long have you known?”

I shrugged, knowing he couldn’t see me. I still didn’t want to talk.

“Thursday, dear.” Mom patted my hand as if she were reassuring me and saving me from all manner of evil. “She called to tell me on Thursday. That’s why she’s here. I don’t blame her one bit. That boy is just a menace.”

Dad looked up at me and for the first time ever, I thought I saw tears in his eyes. The problem was, I knew they were not tears of sorrow for my life that had been drastically altered. They were tears of disappointment because I had brought shame on him and his reputation.

“Well, at least it’s still early.” He sat back in his chair, not touching his food at all despite the fact that Mom devoured her soup like a ravenous wolf. “We can do something about it.”

My heart dropped. I knew he’d think that. “I’m not getting an abortion if that’s what you are insinuating.” I pushed the bowl of soup away from me on the table, no longer even hungry. That was his answer to problems—make them go away. Maybe that’s why he paid for my college dorm room, so I was out of sight and thus out of mind.

He harrumphed and scowled at me, his chest rising and falling in a deep breath. The way he looked right through me hurt. As if his eyes were knives slicing through my heart. He had no right to expect me to terminate the pregnancy simply because it might embarrass him. I crossed my arms over my chest in a defiant pose.

“Well, then I’ll have to speak with Alan, bring him into this. We need to make sure Trevor owns up to—”

“No.” I freaked out. Hearing Dad say he was going to tell Alan made me go into a full-blown panic. He could not—would not—bring Alan into this until I was ready to deal with it on my own. “No,” I said again, as I tried to calm myself. My fingernails dug into my sides; I was terrified. I almost started crying. “I will handle this on my own. I don’t need anyone or anything to support me. And if you don’t approve of that, I will make my own way.”

Dad looked shocked. I watched the anger dissolve off his face, his eyebrows rising slowly. He leaned forward and picked up his spoon, having a bite of soup and then setting the spoon back in the dish. He wiped his mouth and draped the napkin over his lap. I remained quietly holding my ground as he took a few more slow bites in the exact same manner, then braced myself for his response.

“Well, I suppose maybe this will force you to grow up then.” His eyes stared down into his soup dish. “It may be exactly what you need to snap you out of the mindset you’ve been in and make you be more responsible.”

His words hurt, but he was right—not about being more responsible. I was plenty responsible. But his statement about forcing me to grow up was true. I wasn’t ready to be a mother yet. I wanted to explore life and the world and enjoy my twenties. Especially if that meant doing those things with Alan by my side. But this changed everything.

“I guess you’ll learn exactly how difficult parenting is.” He took another bite of his soup and scowled at me again, as if I were the root of all his problems.

I let the tears that had been building in my eyes finally cascade down my cheeks as I stood and pushed my chair in. “I’m not hungry. I’m going to bed.” I picked up the glass of tea and walked out of the kitchen feeling deeply hurt.

My childhood had been nothing but being shipped off from one school to another, one nanny to the next. There were weeks on end when I didn’t even see my father, and he was telling me I needed to be more responsible? All of my fucking issues were due to the failure on his part to show me the love I needed as a child.

I locked myself in my room and curled up in bed crying for the third day in a row. I wanted nothing more than to call Alan and beg him to take me away from this place, but I knew he would be angry with me. Why wouldn’t he? He might even think I deliberately let this happen to trap him into a relationship. That thought pricked my heart and made the soft cries turn to sobs.

I needed him, more than ever. And he was the one person I couldn’t reach out to.

22

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