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My makeup was ruined by the time I got home.
Luckily, Dan hadn’t returned yet. It was funny—weeks ago, I hadn’t expected him to be in the apartment after that night with Chase, yet there he was. Now, when he’d said I would see him, the apartment was empty.
It was a small blessing, really. I was still emotional after that phone call. I could still hear that vulnerability in Chase’s voice, too. I hated the thought of hurting him when he’d been so good to me. But it would have hurt him more if I’d told him everything. At least now I was the bitch who’d dumped him for no reason, not the bitch who’d used him to cheat on her boyfriend, then got pregnant to the ex.
I checked my phone to see whether Dan had called. No missed calls, no messages. And there was no suitcase in the bedroom either, so he hadn’t come home and gone out after his weekend away, either. I’d been delusional enough to think he might want us to spend the evening together after being gone all weekend, but if Janice was to be believed, he was probably off having last minute kisses with that little secretary of his.
That was going to have to change, I thought as I washed my face in the mirror. This baby would have a hard enough life without an unfaithful father thrown into the mix, too. Should I confront him about that tonight, or leave it for a separate occasion? Perhaps it was enough right now to tell Dan he was going to be a father—to celebrate the happy occasion.
Who was I kidding? I had no desire to celebrate anything with Dan. If it weren’t for the baby, I’d be waiting for him to come home so I could throw him out.
I made myself a little dinner, hoping Dan wouldn’t keep me waiting for long—I was exhausted. Could I start blaming being tired on pregnancy yet? I had no idea—the whole concept was so new to me. But I was tired at 8 pm in the evening, and that wasn’t normal. It was either the baby, or the events of the day, or the dread at the conversation I was about to have. Probably a little bit of all three, I decided. I hadn’t actually told anyone that I was pregnant yet. I hadn’t said the words out loud. Telling Dan would make it real, and that was maybe the scariest bit of all.
Three hours after dinner, I’d texted Dan multiple times and still hadn’t received a response. If he’d had an accident, I never would have known. And yet I was sure he was fine—if he were the sort of person who was always responsible and thoughtful, I would have worried a lot more. I chalked this up to typical Dan activity, yawned, and chose another show to watch.
Around midnight, when I was fast asleep on the couch to the dulcet tones of late night TV talk shows, a key rattled in the door. I sat up, rubbing my eyes, and looked up expectantly as it opened.
“Oh, hey,” Dan said, glancing at me as he pulled himself and his suitcase through unsteadily. The smell of alcohol wafting after him didn’t surprise me—I’d already accepted the fact that he was drinking somewhere. In fact, I was relieved. If he’d been drinking with his friends, it meant he hadn’t been hooking up with her.
“Hey. I thought you were going to be home earlier in the day?” I tried to keep my tone of voice light, non-confrontational. We were more roommates, it occurred to me suddenly, not a couple. Oh how that was going to change.
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t. Big deal.” He left the suitcase by the door, going to the kitchen. Not even a kiss hello—roommates indeed.
“How was the trip? Did you have good weather?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. The weather was good.” He was a million miles away.
“Did you get any golf in?”
I heard something thump hard onto the kitchen counter. “Why are you asking so many questions? God, it’s late at night. I’m not in the mood to talk.”
Through the doorway I saw he was making a sandwich. Whatever happened, it hadn’t ruined his appetite. “You’re right, it is late. I should know, I’ve been waiting for you.”
“See? I knew it. I knew you would nag me.”
I sighed, running a hand across my face before getting up to cross to the kitchen. This wasn’t how I’d wanted the evening to go. “I’m not trying to. I’m really not. Just don’t throw the time of day up in my face when I’m the one who has been waiting on you.”
“If something bad was going down, I would have called you. Jeez.”
I took the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger, reminding myself to stay calm. Was it just the hormones? Was I the one acting silly? I shook my head, deciding I wasn’t. At least I’d be well practiced at dealing with toddlers, when the time came.
Toddlers. God, I was going to have a baby.
He was standing at the counter, eating. “Why don’t you come into the lounge room to eat? I haven’t seen you in almost four days, and... um, we need to talk.”
He grumbled something over a mouthful of food, but followed. He looked a mess—his polo shirt had a stain on it, probably some type of booze. His khakis were wrinkled, and there were deep circles beneath his eyes. Had he gotten a wink of sleep while he’d been away? I decided I didn’t want to know. “Are you going in to work tomorrow?” I asked instead.
It was an innocent question—he’d come in at midnight—but he stiffened as if shot, turning to glare at me. “What are you asking me that for?”
My eyes widened. “I... don’t know. Since you got in so late and everything, I guessed there was a problem with your flight...” Wait, why was I defending myself?
“There was nothing wrong with my flight. God, can you hear yourself? Why would I come straight home?”
I shrank back. “Because that was what you said you were going to do. Because we need to talk.”
“Seems like you’re doing enough of that for both of us. Maybe I knew the second I got home I would get a bunch of nagging, did you ever think of that?”
“I see,” I said, jaw clenching. I sat up a little straighter. “Now it’s my fault. What a surprise.”
I had a friend when I was younger, growing up. I never understood why we always had to go to my house if we wanted to play dolls, until the day we dropped her home and I heard her dad fighting with her mom.
I hadn’t known parents could say such mean things to each other. My own parents would have arguments, but not the sort that would carry through a closed door and down a driveway. I’d looked at Suzy, wondering what to make of it all. She’d looked like she wanted to die of embarrassment. Mom had turned the car around, and let Suzy stay the night at our place. Suzy always wanted to stay at our place. It was only on that day that I’d figured out why.
Was I about to raise a child in a household that fought so frequently that by the age of 10, she’d be wanting to stay at her friend’s place, too? I sighed, forcing my jaw to unclench. “I’m not trying to pick a fight. I’m only asking so I know if I should be quiet while I’m getting ready tomorrow.”
Dan’s chin lifted. “I’m not going in tomorrow, or ever again.” Defiant, like he was daring me to say something.
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I got fired,” he said simply. Then he took another bite of his sandwich, like it was no big deal.
I’d taken my fair share of psychology courses in college; I wasn’t a stupid person. I realized, on an intellectual level, that all Dan was doing was acting out. He wanted me to believe he didn’t care one way or another about losing his job. Then, when I freaked out as he assumed I would, he could defend himself against my tyranny. That’s when his anger and frustration would come out.
I also knew about the fight-or-flight response in animals. When we feel threatened by forces either tangible or intangible, our bodies still react the same way they did back when we were hunting woolly mammoths.
That’s why some small part of me wasn’t surprised to hear my heart suddenly thudding in my ears, or look down and find my palms sweating. A million thoughts hit me simultaneously.
We were about to have a baby. Dan couldn’t be fired.
How much did I have in savings? How long would it cover Dan’s unemployment?
How hard would he actually try to get a new job?
A new thought intruded. Should I kick him out? I couldn’t afford to support the both of us, and the baby. But I couldn’t, could I? He was the baby’s father.
My tongue tripped over itself before I managed a full sentence. “How did that happen?” I asked, doing my best to keep my voice controlled, white knuckled fists held tightly in my lap.
“How does it usually happen?” Dan said flippantly. “My boss called me and told me not to come into the office tomorrow. I was at the airport just getting off the plane.” He threw himself against the back of the chair, the injured party.
“Why, though?” I asked—not angry, just genuinely confused. “I mean, he sent you on a trip. I thought that meant he liked you.” Fired. It was like the universe was laughing at me.
“I don’t know, something about the hotel bill. My boss freaked out. He didn’t even give me the chance to explain.”
“So what did happen? Explain it to me, because I’m really confused right now.”
He shot me a dirty look. I changed tack. “I mean, he can’t fire you for some stupid reason like that. What was he actually complaining about, and what were you going to say?”
He looked away. “It’s not important anymore. Just a few drinks, things like that. Liz can totally back me up—we did nothing wrong.”
“Your assistant?” I asked sweetly. “She was there, was she?”
He coughed, looking away again. “We had to work late, so we ordered room service.” He stood up, pushing his chair back. “Look, get off my back, okay? I’m the one that’s just lost his job.”
I closed my eyes, counting to 10. No matter what the reason, Dan couldn’t lose his job, not at a time like this. When I opened my eyes again, I was calm. “Well if that’s all there is to it, we’ll call him in the morning. I’m sure if we offer to pay off the bill, your boss will see the light. We really can’t afford to-”
“I also missed a meeting,” Dan said quickly.
“Oh, Dan...”
“The alarm clock was broken!” he protested, looking down. “What was I supposed to do?”
Set the alarm on your phone? Ask for a wake-up call? Have your assistant roll over and shake you awake? “I don’t know. That sucks.”
“I know, right?” He looked at me, his expression softer now. “I really thought you’d lose it when I told you. I didn’t expect you to be so cool about this.”
Cool? I was numb. I felt nothing. If I were to have any emotional reaction, it would be laughter. I would laugh at myself for being such a fool. I would laugh at the way life had a tendency to kick us while we’re down.
“So what are you going to do? I guess start looking for something else?”
“What? Oh, yeah, of course. I mean, eventually.”
“Eventually?”
“Well, yeah,” Dan said, sitting down and leaning back, his hands behind his head. “I mean, do I have to get out there tomorrow? Can I take a little time to relax? You know how stressful that job was. Maybe this is for the best. I probably needed a break.”
I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“Relax? You need to relax?” The laughter bubbled up again; I was helpless to control it. It had started as a titter, but was now a full blown belly laugh as I lay back on the couch, tears streaming down my cheeks. It was the moodiness, or maybe just the only way I could cry, right now.
“I’m glad you think this is funny,” Dan said, scowling.
I wiped my eyes, quieting, then sat up to look him right in the eye. “It’s not funny, but I have to laugh, else I’d lose my mind. You, of all people, sitting here telling me you need to relax! I work my ass off—I pay all the bills. I clean this place. And I cook, and do the laundry, and take your shirts to the cleaners. And then you need to relax. What else can I do but laugh?”
He stood up, glaring down at me. “This is just like you! I come home, feeling vulnerable, and what do you do? You make me feel even worse. What’s gotten into you?”
I bit my tongue to stop blurting out the words: A baby. As angry as I was, the baby was not a weapon. Would never be a weapon. I wasn’t going to tell Dan the news like that.
I took a series of deep breaths. “Dan. I need you to understand this. I don’t have a lot in savings—enough to get us through a few months, tops. You have to get back out there right away and find something new.” I didn’t bother asking him how much he had saved up, since I knew the answer would be a big fat zero. One of the few good decisions I’d made over our relationship was insisting we stick to separate bank accounts.
“I will! God, what do you think I am? I just don’t see what the big deal is. Why do I have to rush? There must be plenty of jobs.”
Right. For a deadbeat like you, who just got fired after running up hotel bills during a business trip. You’ll get a glowing recommendation. “The job market’s tight. It’s not an overnight thing.”
“You’re so negative! I should have known you’d be negative,” he huffed, storming into the kitchen to slam his plate into the sink. He strode from there to the bedroom, pulling off his polo as he did. He’d put on weight. He had a pot belly.
I followed him. “Just be realistic. That’s all I’m asking. Don’t expect something to drop into your lap. You have to try hard to get something new, fast.”
“Why?” He turned to look at me. “You said you have enough to get us through a few months. Why are you in such a hurry?”
“Because... it’s scary, you know? I mean, what if we had to move because we couldn’t afford this place anymore?”
“Eh, it’s too big, anyway. We don’t need the second bedroom.”
Yes, we do. That second room was originally going to be Dan’s office, but soon it would be filled with baby furniture. My savings were dwindling right before my eyes. “Dan. I don’t think you understand what I’m saying. You need to get a job.”
“Why?” he asked petulantly.
I didn’t say anything, just looked at the floor, full of misery.
His eyes narrowed. “Why?” he asked again, moving toward me. “What are you hiding?” He grabbed me roughly by the arm, shaking me hard.
I pulled away. “Don’t do that Dan.”
“I’ll do whatever I want,” he growled, anger on his face, reaching for me again. “You’re my girlfriend.”
I backed up against the wall, eyes wide. “Dan,” I said, blurting the words out before I could help it. “I’m pregnant.”