Page 71 of Shame the Devil
“Chocolate milk?” she asked, with a funny look on her face.
“Yeah. Recovery drink. Probably good for … for pregnancy, too. It’s organic.”
Pregnancy.
“Or tea,” he said. “Not sure I have tea, though.” He rooted through the fridge. “Kombucha. I’ve got that. That’s close, right?”
“I’ve never known what that is,” she said.
“Fermented green tea. Sort of a yeasty thing. You telling me Dyma isn’t lecturing you on the benefits of kombucha yet? Wait until she goes to college. It’s pretty disgusting, but some people like it. I’ve got a buddy who drinks it. That’s why it’s here.”
“Harlan,” she said, “I’m pregnant. Do not say ‘yeasty fermented green tea’ to me. It’s not going to end well. I’ll take the chocolate milk, please.”
He handed her a bottle. This still felt surreal, like it was happening to somebody else, but she was still Jennifer. That part felt the same.
“Come on,” he said. “We’ll sit by the fire.”
Another walk across the stone floor, past the twelve-person, iron-and-glass-and-leather dining set, sitting like an island in an endless sea of limestone, and she said, “This is a different house. I said I wouldn’t comment, and here I am, commenting.”
“Yep.” He pressed a button on the remote, turned on the gas fire, and sat on the enormous semicircular pale-brown leather couch, or whatever you called it, because it didn’t really have enough cushions to be called a couch. Another item of furniture that could probably seat twelve. “This part is sort of the living room, I guess. A friend’s wife told me this place has all the homey appeal of a modern-art museum. I don’t think it was a compliment.”
She sat down beside him, but not too close, and twisted the top off her chocolate milk. “On the other hand, it probably has a great echo, if you want to practice your yodeling.”
He grinned, and she smiled. “I rent it,” he said. “I’ve never owned a house, actually.”
“You mentioned that. When you were explaining how you’re not a sticking-around guy.”
“Oh, yeah. I did.”
Silence for a minute, and he said, “So …”
“So,” she said, “it’s pretty simple. We go to a clinic. There’s one that’s open on Saturday, because I checked. I also made an appointment, which is in about an hour and a half from now. They take my blood. They swab your cheek. We wait a week or two, and you find out if you’re on the hook.”
“I didn’t mean that. I meant …” He waved his bottle of chocolate milk. “The whole thing. How. All that.”
“Ah,” she said. “Well … because the condom broke. And I forgot to take my pill for two days. I took extra the next day, but I guess … And I’m not apologizing. I’ve spent the whole way down here telling myself I’m not apologizing. I didn’t mean to do it. You didn’t mean to do it. It happened anyway.”
He said, “I guess this is where I get mad, but it was my condom. And I put it on in too big a hurry.”
He was floating somewhere above this, observing himself down here interacting. That was bad. He took a breath and brought himself down. You couldn’t handle the moment if you weren’t in the moment.
There’d be an answer. He was the father, or he wasn’t. It felt like he was, though. And after that …
There went his mind, blanking again.
It wasn’t like paternity suits were anything new in the NFL. He’d just never imagined it happening to him.
He said, “So I guess you’re having the baby.” Which was, yes, where he needed to go. In the moment. His heart had sunk all the way down to his stomach, like he was hollowed out, but that was where they were.
A long pause, and she looked down at her chocolate milk and said, “At first, I thought, no way. Not again. I did a lot of … thinking.”
“Single mom,” he said. “Again.”
She looked straight at him. No hesitation in her now. “It’s hard,” she said. “Even with my mom and my grandpa, it was hard, and my grandpa’s old and my mom’s not here anymore. And Dyma going to college, and the job with Blake ending.”
“Owen said you were working for some company,” he said. “Salad dressing.”
“Filling in for somebody on maternity leave, because Dyma’s in high school until June, so I’ve got this … awkward gap. After that, I think I’m going to have to ask Blake for something here. In his company. In Portland. I realize that’s too close for you, but I think I’m going to have to do it anyway. I’d love to believe I could stick it out in Wild Horse, but the money doesn’t work. Also …”
