Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 53605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
The city has never been a draw for me, but that’s where Mason had his condo and then the one he bought for me as well after we agreed on me using my womb to make his dreams of fatherhood come true. The business grew on me and the ability to walk downstairs and grab an overpriced caramel macchiato twenty-four hours a day was a perk I hadn’t considered.
All that is gone now except for the few personal items left in my place that the legal team arranged to give me a week to retrieve before the state changes the locks and I lose the little bit of what I have left inside.
I sigh as people cut around me and I consider for a moment how much it would cost to disappear to Costa Rica.
How am I going to explain having a baby to my father? I shake my head and decide to delay that decision. There’s a Starbucks half a block down near where I’ve got my VW parked behind a dumpster in the alley. The parking structure where I used to park the Tesla Mason bought me was full and the next closest one is three blocks away. My bladder was not on board with walking that far.
I snicker as I work my way toward the green mermaid sign, remembering the nickname Mason gave me the day we left the OB/GYN office with the confirmation I was in fact with child.
The Virgin Nancy.
My boots make a scraping noise as I move forward, a soft little tap tap flutter in my tummy makes my eyes start to burn, but I bite back the sorrow and cling to the surprising new excitement I have about the baby.
It’s not something I ever considered, but now that it’s happening I feel this connection.
The farther the pregnancy progressed, the more I wanted to propose a co-parenting sort of deal, but fate had different plans.
Now, I’m on my own. And I’m surprisingly okay with that. Beyond the obvious issues that I have nowhere to live, no job, no savings and escaped a possible jail sentence, I can’t wait to be a mom.
I order my drink and watch a woman in the corner talking on her phone and rolling a stroller back and forth a few inches over and over. The urge to assault her with about a thousand questions overwhelms me.
What is the best brand of diapers?
Do I need little shoes right away or do I wait until they are trying to walk?
Who is your pediatrician?
What about daycare?
And, vaccinations? Oh God, what about—
“Nancy?” The barista calls my name. The scent of the brewing coffee washing through me like a calming breeze. As I step to the counter, her eyes connect with Taylor’s paw sneaking out from between the square metal openings on the carrier door. “You can’t have a cat in here. It’s against health codes.”
“You’re a dog person aren’t you?” I shake my head on a groaning exhale slipping off the little paper condom from the green straw and take a sip, closing my eyes on a long slow breath.
Ten seconds in.
Hold for ten seconds.
Exhale ten seconds.
With renewed strength from the breathing exercise I found on TikTok and the sweet, caramel, life-giving decaf macchiato, I straighten my spine, grab the cat carrier, and turn out the doors toward the alley.
As I spin on the heel of my boot, straw pinched between my teeth, all the zen calm I’ve just mustered flutters away on the fall morning breeze.
“Wait!” I shout, breaking into a half jog toward the little covered scooter topped with a spinning red light. “I’m…pregnant!”
Time to pull out the big guns.
“This your car, ma’am?” The female officer holding an electronic ticket generator in her hand turns my way.
“It is.” I huff, shuffling the last few steps her way, feigning exhaustion as I set the cat carrier on the wet asphalt of the alley huffing and puffing. “See, I’m expecting.” I arch my back settling my palm on my belly. “I just needed the bathroom. It was an emergency, you know? I was gone like two seconds.”
I nod, trying to garner some mutual ovarian sympathy as she holds her lips tight and I take another sip of my drink.
“Just needed the bathroom?” She points at the Venti whipped cream topped cup in my hand, then at Taylor. “Ma’am, this is clearly marked no parking. It’s a fire route, I’ve already called the tow truck.”
“Oh, no, please.”
She ignores my plea and goes back to tapping on the black device in her hand as my phone starts to ring. “Just please, please, I’m begging you, give me one sec…” I say, holding up my index finger with one hand and my phone with the other.
That seems to stop her tapping as I look at the screen and groan. “Hi, Dad.”