Author: Cheryl McIntyre

As soon as she passes me, I close the door and turn to face Lucy. “You’re pregnant?”

Her shoulders jerk and she sighs. “I think I might be.”

“But we’ve always used—”

“The shower,” she whispers.

Ah, the shower. I almost laugh. The one and only time I don’t use a condom… I shove both hands into my hair and tug. Why did I do that? How could I do that? I wanted her so badly that I didn’t think. I didn’t care. I just needed her and nothing else mattered.

I drop in front of her, resting on one knee. “It’ll be okay,” I say. “We’ll do whatever you want. Hell, we don’t even know yet.”

She smiles weakly at me. “I’m pretty sure, Park. I keep getting sick and my period’s late. I just…” She shakes her head and bites down on her lip. “I’m pretty sure,” she repeats.

“I’ll go get the test. We’ll go from there.” I stand up and offer her my hand. I refuse to believe anything until I have a definitive answer in front of me.

***

The door opens and my eyes automatically go to the thin plastic tube sitting on the counter.

“Three minutes,” Lucy says. Her voice is shaky. I want to comfort her, but I can’t. I’m pissed off at myself and it’s holding me back. And I don’t know what she’s thinking. She probably hates me. I hate me.

If this test comes back positive it ruins everything. I’ll have ruined three lives because I couldn’t fucking bag it.

I don’t know how to be a dad. I’ll fuck it up.

I fuck everything up.

I need a cigarette so badly, but I won’t leave Lucy alone. Damn it. My chest hurts. My stomach is knotted. I can’t lose her. The past couple weeks have been the best of my life. It can’t end now.

I look at my phone. One more minute.

One more minute and everything could change.

I’m nineteen. Lucy’s only twenty. We’re too young to be parents. What about school? How do we finish school? We have to finish. Can’t get a good job without school. Can’t raise a kid without a good job.

Maybe she doesn’t want to keep it. She’s adopted, maybe she’ll want to put it up for adoption. Maybe she’ll want an abortion.

I bite my thumb nail as I watch her. She’s perched on the side of the bathtub, her eyes refusing to move anywhere near the counter where our future sits.

A kid.

There could be a kid—my kid—growing inside her right now. It could have her eyes and her lips. Her voice and her sweet personality.

Would that really be so bad?

But it’d have a part of me in it too. That can’t be good. Even if it were to be like her, I’d probably do something to screw it up.

I look down at my phone again, tapping my foot. I stare at the numbers. “It’s time,” I choke out.

Lucy’s chest rises as she takes a deep breath, but she doesn’t move in any other way. “What’s it say?”

Fuck. She wants me to look?

I step in front of the counter and pick up the box. I want to read the directions one more time. Okay…two lines means positive. One line is negative.

I set the box down and pick up the test.

And I just stare at it, trying to grasp one of the emotions rushing through me.

“What’s it say?” she asks, her voice low.

I blink. Check the box one more time and shake my head slowly. With a trembling hand, I hold it out to her.

I’m going to be a fucking dad.

37

Lucy

I’m going to be a mom. I knew it, but I couldn’t believe it. My hand automatically goes to my stomach. There’s a person inside of me. A teeny, tiny, little person.

I hope he looks like Park. I hope he has his eyes and his hair.

Oh, my God. I’m pregnant.

I stare at the test as if it will change if I keep looking.

“Okay,” I stammer. “Okay. This is probably the last thing you expected—or wanted to happen.” I take a deep breath, my eyes still focused on the small, plastic stick in my hand. “I’m not going to ask anything of you. You don’t have to be involved.”

“What?” Park croaks. “What are you saying?”

“It takes a lot of commitment to be a parent…” I flick my wrist, shaking the test. Maybe I should take another one. This could be faulty.

“So you want to keep it?”

Park’s words hit me and I lift my head to read the expression on his face, but it’s indecipherable. “I want to keep the baby,” I confirm.

“And you don’t want me involved?”

His dark eyes hold me in place as I try to express one of the many thoughts in my head. “I can’t make you be someone you’re not.”

He takes a step backward and crosses his arms, his head dropping until his eyes are hidden from my view.

“You don’t want me involved. Just say it, Lucy.”

“That’s not it. That’s not it at all. I want you to be there every step of the way, but how can I trust that you’ll do that? I can’t have you take off on me again. Not with a baby in the picture. You can’t…you can’t do that to a child. You can’t just decide one day that you don’t want him.”

I blink several times, trying to will the moisture away. I don’t know why I always tear up. I’ve heard pregnant women are even more emotional because their hormones get all out of whack. Great. Something to look forward to.

“Jeremy’s mom was young when she had him. I don’t know all the details because my parents wouldn’t tell me everything, but from what I was told, she couldn’t handle the responsibility. She bounced him around from home to home, whoever would take him in for awhile. Eventually she ran out of people willing to help her out and when it came down to partying or Jeremy, she chose the party.”

I take another deep breath and sigh. “He was five, Park. He remembers some of it. He remembers that his mom chose to give him up rather than give up her lifestyle. It took a long time…” I shake my head quickly and push my hair off my shoulder. “He still has a hard time with it. My mom has to constantly remind him that we want him. That we chose him.”

“And you think that’ll be me?” His eyes are like weights bearing down on me.

“It could be. You can’t blame me for thinking it.”

“No, I can’t. I’ve given you every reason to think that about me.” He moves cautiously toward me before lowering himself to sit on the floor. “But I’m going to give you a reason to be certain that I’ll never do that to my kid.”

My stomach tightens as he claims his child and I nearly launch myself at him. Instead, I slide off the tub’s edge and get comfortable beside him.

“Guy, Hope, Chase, they’re the only ones that know about my family. I don’t really share personal shit about myself.”

I laugh dryly—I can’t help it. His brows raise and I touch his hand. “Sorry. Go on.”

“My dad’s come and gone in and out of my life so many times… It’s different, but I know how Jeremy feels. The whole: Why wasn’t I enough? What did I do wrong? What could I have done better? What could I have done to make him stay?

“I know all that well.” He scoops my hand up, engulfing it in both of his. He stares down at my palm as his thumbs rub over my skin.

“Dad’s been married…three times? I can’t remember for sure. And after every marriage, every girlfriend that doesn’t work out, he comes home.” He shakes his head and pulls his gaze up to meet mine. “Mom always takes him back because he’s my dad. Because she loves him. Because deep down he’s a good person. She has more excuses, I just can’t think of them all right now.

“So he comes home, he’s my dad for a few months, and then he takes off again. I found out—that night I told you about, the night of the car accident—I found out he had another kid. A daughter. She’s older. I’ve never met her and until two years ago, I never knew she existed.

“It wasn’t just us he was always leaving. He’d been doing it to her even longer.”

“Park,” I whisper. I open my mouth again, to say something—anything to take away his pain, but I have no words. I crawl into his lap and wrap my arms around his neck. He pulls me in tight, burying his face into my hair.

“I may not be good for a baby—hell, Lucy, I know I’m no good for you—but I’m going to try. I won’t abandon my kid.”

“You’re good for me,” I say firmly. And he is. He isn’t a perfect man, but he’s perfect for me. “I swear I don’t love you one bit,” I say softly.

He nods. “Not one single bit.”

***

“Can I come in?” Bree asks as she hovers in the doorway.

I nod and she settles beside me on the side of my bed. I’m still holding the test. I can’t stop looking at it. Her fingers wrap around my wrist. She pulls my arm toward her and reads the results.

“I get to throw your baby shower. Your mom can help, but the planning is all mine.”

I laugh, a quick burst of air from my chest that echoes off the walls. This is precisely why she’s my best friend. Without a shadow of a doubt, she knows I’ll keep this baby.

“So…where’d Park go?”

I shake my head and shrug at the same time. “He just said he had something he had to do.”

“Is he freaking out?”

I lie back, my feet hanging off the side of the bed. “Actually, I think he’s taking it really well. Possibly better than I am.”

“Bullshit.” She leans back on her elbows so she can see me better. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. He’s obviously freaked out—I mean we’re talking about a human life and Park being responsible for said human life. He’s scared the same as I am. But he…” I turn my head and smile at her. “He wants to be there.”

“And you trust him?” She cringes. “I’m sorry. As your best friend and godmother to your unborn baby, I have to ask.”

“I trust him. I don’t know why, but I do. I believe him. I believe in him.”

“You know, if someone had told me three months ago that you’d be having Park Reed’s love child, I would have punched them in the face, and then I would have rolled on the floor laughing.”

I chuckle as I shift, staring up at the butterflies hanging from my ceiling. “I know, right? If anybody would’ve told me that I’d be having a baby—period. My mom is either going to be ecstatic or disown me.”

“Mary’s cool. She’ll roll with the baby blow. Now your dad…he may hurt Park in ways that make it impossible for him to ever father another child.”

Pressing my lips together, I nod at the ceiling. “That’s the honest to God truth.”

“Mm-hm.” The silence stretches as the image of my dad chasing Park through the apartment fills my mind. Bree sits up and turns to face me. “Can I come with you when you tell them? And can I bring my camera?”

38

Park

“Hello?”

“Hey, Hope,” I say into the phone. “It’s me.”

“What’s up?” She says it lightly, but even after all this time, I recognize the slight tremor in her tone.

“I wanted…” I take a deep breath and release it slowly as I try to focus my thoughts. “I needed to tell you that I understand. I didn’t get it before, but I get it now.”

“I need you to be a little more specific,” she replies quietly.

“You can love someone, hell, you can love a lot of someones, but when you find the right person—the one that you’re meant to be with—it’s like…”