Page 33 of Rigid

“Uhhm. I don’t know. A lot. Why?”

“It takes one.”

Our conversation had taken a left turn, and I wasn’t prepared. I wanted to talk about my pregnancy, and it seemed he wanted to talk about something totally different. I lowered my glass and blinked a few times. “Huh?”

“William Shakespeare. Nelson Mandela. Charles Darwin. Albert Einstein. As individuals, they each made a contribution that changed the course of history. God has given you an opportunity to raise a child. Someone that very well could be the next Martin Luther King. You should be grateful. It was his gift to you.”

It was an interesting concept, but I had hoped for a less philosophical approach. I set my glass on the coffee table and let out a sigh. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Be responsible. Do the right thing.”

I didn’t want him to tell me what to do, I wanted him to tell me what not to do. “What would be the wrong thing?”

He shrugged. “Neglect?”

Once again, not what I was after. Frustrated, I shook my head and then looked right at him. “The father has a grown kid, and he doesn’t do relationships. Well, she’s kind of grown. She’s seventeen.”

He scrunched his nose. “He was absent in the child’s and the mother’s lives?”

“No. The mother left when the baby was born, and he raised the baby. She lives with him. But, she’s not a baby. Not anymore, anyway.”

“Single father?”

I nodded. “Yep.”

“Has he always been single? Since the baby was born?”

“That’s what he said.”

“Is he nice looking? Does he have a good personality? Is he a good person?” he asked, extending one finger with each question.

“He’s gorgeous. And he’s got a great personality. From what he’s shown me so far, I think he’s a good person, but I don’t know him that well. I met him a month ago, and we had sex twice. He’s had a vasectomy, and I’m on the pill. Imagine that.”

“He doesn’t sound like someone who doesn’t do relationships. He sounds like someone who wants to protect his child from heartbreak.”

I hadn’t looked at it that way, but after he mentioned it, it made perfect sense. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“So, what did he say? When you told him?”

“That’s just it. I haven’t told him.”

His eyes went wide. “What? You’re not serious?”

“That’s why I’m here. I need to decide what to do.”

He cocked his head to the side, and did the eyebrow thing. “Are you considering not telling him?”

My eyes dropped. “Uh huh.”

He wagged his finger at me as if scolding me. “You didn’t conceive this child alone. You owe it to him – and to the child – to tell him.”

His response made sense. It wasn’t what I’d hoped for, but I couldn’t argue his with his logic.

“Okay. I’ll see if he’ll meet me and have a talk.”

“Is everything friendly between you two?”

“Well,” I said. “That’s where things get sticky.”