9. Dayton
CHAPTER 9
Dayton
W ith my head spinning, I stare out the window of my office, trying to come to terms with the email I just read. Tuesday, after debating with myself for days, I went to the doctor, and they took a semen sample. Two minutes ago, they sent me the results. I already believed Franny when she said that the baby is mine. I just needed things confirmed for my own sanity, and now I don’t know what to do with the information.
Since I was old enough to come up with my own thoughts about life and how I wanted my future to look, I knew that I never wanted kids. Not because of the responsibility or the fear of losing my freedom, but because of the knowledge of what lives deep down in my marrow—a living, breathing monster lying dormant.
Maybe nothing would ever set it free, but if something did, I never wanted the people I was supposed to care about most in this world to come face-to-face with that part of me. I never want anyone to experience what I did growing up or what my mother did at the hands of my father.
When my cell dings with a message, I rub my hands down my face and spin my chair around to pick up my phone. As soon as I lift it off the top of my desk, the screen lights up, and a message from Franny unlocks.
The fear sitting in the middle of my chest feels heavy enough to crush my ribcage, lungs, and heart as I read it.
Franny: Leaving now. See you at the doctor’s office.
I want to back out, be a coward, and tell her that something came up and I can’t make it to the appointment. But an image of her soft smile pops into my mind, and I know I can’t do that to her.
I don’t want to do that to her.
When I asked if I could go to her doctor’s appointment, the question came out without me even thinking about it because I didn’t like the idea of her sitting alone in a cold room or even with her mom, who I know she loves, but obviously stresses her out.
I type the message and press Send before I can chicken out.
Me: I’ll see you there.
Getting up, I put my cell in my pocket, and grab my keys, shutting off the light before I leave my office and walk past Jamie’s desk.
She’s not here today, and she wasn’t here yesterday, or the day before that. I haven’t seen her since she left Monday morning, after our staff meeting. A meeting in which Billy brought up the news story that had gone out Sunday night.
The story wasn’t as damaging as it could have been and mostly focused on the elections coming up. Still, Billy decided to share that the rumors about him and Jamie—who was not named in the story—were lies. Then he laughed and said I would kick his ass if they were true since she and I have been dating. A few of the men in the room laughed along with him, like it was all a big fucking joke, but most of the people shared looks of doubt and disgust knowing he was lying.
While Jamie, who had been sitting across from me during the meeting, looked more hurt than embarrassed and asked if she could go home not long after that.
For my part I was pissed, the topic wasn’t something that he needed to address at a staff meeting, even if he was attempting to get in front of the rumors swirling around the office.
Not wanting to get pissed all over again, I shove all thoughts of Billy out of my head and walk out of the building to my SUV, pulling up the address Franny sent me earlier today.
When I arrive at the large medical complex twenty minutes later, I find a place to park and stare at the building in front of me for a long fucking time before I build up the courage to get out and go inside.
It takes me a few minutes to find her doctor’s office on the fourth floor, and when I step into the waiting room, the two women sitting at the desk smile in my direction.
After offering them a quiet “hello,” I scan the room for Franny.
I find her sitting alone in the corner, dressed in a pair of jean shorts and a flowy top, with a magazine open on her lap and her eyes on me. I haven’t seen her since she left my place Saturday night, seeming in a hurry to get away from me after agreeing to let me come with her today.
She looks nervous as I close the distance between us. She also looks beautiful, with her hair down and a touch of pink across the bridge of her nose and cheeks, like she’s spent some time in the sun the last few days.
“Hey.” I take the seat next to her, and she closes the magazine on her lap.
“Hey.”
“Sorry, I’m late.”
“You’re not. I just got here a few minutes ago.” Her smile is small.
“Francisca Caputo?” a woman in a set of pink scrubs calls, holding open a door that leads deeper into the clinic.
“Caputo?”
“What?” Franny looks over at me as she gets up.
“You still have your ex-husband’s last name?”
“Yeah, I haven’t had a chance to get it changed yet.” She tips her head to the side. “Are you going to come back with me?”
“Yeah.” I get up and follow behind her toward the nurse, who is waiting for us with a smile on her face and a clipboard in her hand.
“How are you feeling today?” she asks Franny as we step through the door she’s holding open. I glance at her badge; it says her name is Harlow and that she’s an RN.
“All right. A little nausea, and I’ve had this headache I can’t get rid of,” Franny tells her as we stop at a scale in the hall. She takes off her sandals and steps up onto it.
Her answer is more information than she’s given me. Every day, I send her a text just checking on her to see how she’s feeling, and every day, she messages back that she’s okay, with a single heart emoji and nothing more. It shouldn’t bother me that she’s put up a wall between us, especially when I’ve had my own walls in place, but it does.
“We’ll talk about that with Dr. Bride today.” She jots down Franny’s weight. “You two are going to be in room four.” She starts leading us toward the room but steps to the side when a door opens, and a woman—so far along in her pregnancy, she looks uncomfortable—steps into the hall with a man at her back who looks terrified.
“Is everything okay?” Harlow asks, and the woman shakes her head.
“Dr. Bride is sending me to be induced. We’re gonna go home and get the dogs sorted before we head to the hospital.”
“It will be okay,” Harlow assures her. “I can’t wait to meet the babies.”
Babies? As in more than one?
Shit, no wonder the guy looks terrified.
“Me neither.” The woman smiles, rubbing her belly, which is so large I’m surprised she doesn’t topple over from the weight of it.
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.” She laughs while the guy looks about ready to pass out.
Flexing my hand, I step into the room Harlow brings us to and half listen as she tells Franny it will just be a few minutes and to make herself comfortable. As Franny takes a seat on the side of the exam table, I look around. There are framed photos of babies on the walls and posters filled with information. So much information.
“Are you doing okay?” Franny asks, and I focus on her. “You look like you might pass out.”
“Do you have twins in your family?”
“No.” She laughs. “Do you?”
“I don’t know.” I scrub my fingers through my hair as she studies me. “I went into foster care when I was young. I don’t know much about either of my parents' families.”
“You—,” she starts, but there’s a knock on the door before it’s opened, cutting off whatever she was about to say.
Not that she needs to say anything. It’s obvious from the look on her face that she feels sorry for me. She shouldn’t. I was better off in foster care.
“Francisca.” A guy who doesn’t look much older than me steps into the room with Harlow right behind him.
“Hi, Dr. Bride.” She smiles as he turns to me, holding out his hand.
“Are you Dad?”
Shit, I’m going to puke.
“Yeah.” I take his hand and see Franny jerk in surprise. Hell, I surprised myself with the answer that came so easily.
“Congrats, man.” He lets my hand go and focuses on Franny. “Harlow told me that you’ve been having headaches.” He walks toward her.
“Yeah, pretty much every day.”
“Every day? Is that even normal?” I ask.
Dr. Bride looks over at me. “It can be.” He focuses on Franny, then. “Have you been drinking enough water?”
“Probably not.” She rubs her lips together. “I’ve been really nauseous most days, so I hate eating or drinking anything because I don’t want to get sick.”
“But you are eating, right?”
“I try,” she tells him, and he gives her a look filled with concern.
“You need to be eating small meals more often and drinking lots of water. I know it’s not easy, but that should help with the headaches. I’ll also write you a prescription for something that will help with the nausea if it’s that bad.”
“Thank you.”
“We want you and the baby to both be healthy and happy.” He looks between the two of us. “Now, are you ready to see your baby?”
Her eyes come to me quickly before going back to him.
“Yeah,” she whispers. I hate the fear I hear in her voice, but knowing that she is just as scared as I am makes me feel a little less alone.
After instructing her on what he’s going to do, she lies back on the table, and Harlow covers her with a blanket and helps adjust her pants before she walks over to turn out the light.
“Come on over, Dad,” Dr. Bride says, so I walk around the table to stand next to Franny’s head as he squirts some clear liquid on her stomach. With my eyes on the screen of the ultrasound machine, I try to figure out what I’m looking at as he moves the wand around on Franny’s still-flat belly.
After a moment, he turns a nob on the machine, and a soft swishing noise fills the room.
“Is that the heartbeat?” Franny asks softly.
“It is.” He smiles at her.
“Wow.” She whispers reaching for my hand.
“And there’s your baby,” he says, clicking away and drawing lines on the screen. I must be blind. I don’t see anything but gray and black. But then a white blur moves, and it’s like the image finally comes into focus, and I can make out a head, what looks like a round stomach, and even a leg. My heart picks up speed while Franny’s hold on my hand tightens.
I tip my chin down to look at her and she turns her head to look at me with tears filling her eyes.
I have no idea how this is all going to play out or what the future holds for us, but for the rest of our lives, we will be connected through our child. The reality of that is terrifying, but what is even scarier is the overwhelming sense of protectiveness I feel when it comes to her. It’s something I felt the first night we met; I just didn’t recognize it for what it was back then.
Drawing in a ragged breath, I look back at the screen and try to focus on Dr. Bride as he tells us about the baby and what to expect over the next few months. It’s a lot of information—more than I can process right now. Not with my whole world suddenly off-kilter.
When he’s done, he prints off a set of the ultrasound pictures and hands them to me before leaving Franny and me in the room alone.
“Are you okay?” she asks, and I drag my eyes off the black-and-white image in my hand and look at her across the room.
“I’m not sure. You?”
“I’m not sure either,” she admits. “Did you catch anything he said after the heartbeat?”
“Not one single word,” I reply with a smile, watching her laugh as she slides off the bed and slips on her sandals.
“Are you going back to work?” She grabs her purse while I open the door.
“Yeah, I have a meeting at three.” We step out of the room and start down the hall. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Nothing, just working on my current painting.” We stop at the checkout desk, where she needs to make her next appointment and pick up her prescription.
“How about I bring you dinner? I should be home by six, if that’s not too late.”
“Umm…” She licks her lips and looks up at me seeming to turn the offer over in her head. “Yeah, okay sure, that sounds good.”
“All right, text me when you get home.”
“Sure.” Her smile is small. “I’m really glad you came.”
Shit, why does my chest feel strange?
“Me too.” I reach out and rest my hand on her hip while I lean down and press a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Okay,”
When I get down to my SUV, I sit there for a few minutes, trying to process everything that just happened. It’s too much to come to terms with in that short amount of time, but there are a couple of things I know for certain.
One: there is no way I want another man stepping up to raise my kid.
And two: Franny is going to fuck up my life in either the best or worst way possible.