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“No thank you, I’m good for the next hour or so.” She smiles.
I take a drink from my glass.
“So what has my brother told you about me, that I didn’t mention the night we met?” I ask, gauging if she knew about my alcoholism.
“He hasn’t really said much, but to be fair – I never asked. Once I knew you guys were brothers, I kept those two separate.”
“Okay, well then Tatum, we barely know each other, but now we’re about to. This is going to get heavy because we’re both unloading some… well heavy information right now. While you started, and I soooo acknowledge the pregnancy, I want to go into some, um background on me right now to explain… myself.”
“Um, Okay. What does this have to do with me being pregnant?” She asks.
“Everything and nothing.” I start taking a deep breath and gesturing back to the living room. We sit down beside each other this time.
“When we met, I was drunk.” I start.
“No shit Sherlock,” she laughs.
“Yeah, I had probably been drunk daily for a year and half. And that vacation of mine was a week-long bender, my breaking point. I was in a downward spiral after a car accident.”
“Your brother did mention you were missing.”
“Yup. I escaped to the hotel and drank myself silly. I remember fragments of my week there, like I remember you, your legs, and parts of our evening together. Before you think it, I’m not making any excuses, I’m just telling you what’s happened. Anyways, Davis and Dane, my friend you met earlier came to the hotel, gave me a “come to Jesus” and then the next day I was in rehab.”
“That’s why you weren’t here for the BBQ!” She exclaims.
“BBQ?” I ask.
“Oh, Davis had a BBQ, you weren’t here. He said you weren’t going to be around. I wasn’t… I wasn’t going to come. I didn’t want to… make it weird.”
“Ah. Okay. So there, I’m a recovering alcoholic and the sudden and extremely random need for a milkshake, has well, replaced alcohol. I drink my milkshakes when I have any, even minuscule thoughts that would send me to drink, it doesn’t necessarily mean I want to. It’s become a crutch.”
“Ahh okay, that makes sense. I thought it was strange, but I didn’t want to ask you why you were so weird, right off the bat. Don’t worry, I have to have something pineapple at least every 45 minutes to an hour to refrain from becoming a blubbery mess.” She smiles, this time it’s a real smile.
Man, she’s beautiful. And fuck, she’s pregnant.
Because of me, she’s pregnant.
The reality was settling in as I sipped on my milkshake and stopped talking as I looked at her over the rim of the glass.
“So, what do we do now?” I ask.
“I don’t believe in abortions.” She stated quickly.
“I would never ask that. Plus, I’m cool with women’s lib. It’s your choice.” Fuck, my life went from super boring to straight up drama in less than a day.
“Well, that’s a relief. I honestly don’t know what to do. I took a week to get the nerve up to come over here and tell you. I don’t know what’s next.” She admits. “I have to say that I’m surprised you aren’t freaking out.”
“Well, case and point, milkshake. But I’m freaking out, you just can’t tell. I’m more speechless.”
“That makes sense.” She smiles.
“Have you made a doctor’s appointment yet?” I ask.
“Yes, it’s Monday morning.”
“Can I, can I come?” I ask.
“Sure.” She pulls out her phone and gives me the information.
“You might as well give me your number too, just think, things can’t get more awkward now.” I try to joke, but it lands badly and she doesn’t get it. She hands me her phone and I put my number in her contacts and then text myself so I have hers as well.
Well shit. Can you strap a car seat on the back of a Harley?
