11. Francisca
CHAPTER 11
Francisca
L ooking between two of my closest friends, I wait for them to react to the bomb I just dropped on them, my heart racing. I hadn’t planned on telling them tonight that I’m pregnant; I wanted to wait and give them the news in some cute way—maybe with a card that said they were being invited to the Cool Aunts Club or a T-shirt saying something along those lines. But over the course of dinner, they’ve made comments about me not eating or drinking. Though I did eat, just not as much as I normally would have. And I haven’t had any alcohol, for obvious reasons, which wasn’t exactly a big deal until they invited me to go out after dinner to get drinks somewhere else.
The moment I turned down the invite, I could see they were gearing up to interrogate me, and it wouldn’t be long before I was spilling because I’ve never been good at keeping anything from them. Of course, my being pregnant isn’t a surprise to Molly, who is sitting next to me with her hand wrapped around mine. She was there when I bought the first pregnancy test, was the person who went to the store to buy more after that one came back positive and was the one who held me when I fell to my bathroom floor in a crying heap. But it’s a huge surprise to Georgia and Amelia, who both look stunned.
“I don’t even know what to say,” Amelia whispers, her hand holding her wine frozen in midair a couple of inches from her mouth.
“Are you keeping it?” Georgia asks, and Molly gasps while I instinctively cover my stomach with my hand. “What?” She looks around the table at each of us, then rolls her eyes. “It’s not too late to change your mind about keeping it.”
“Of course, she’s keeping it,” Molly answers for me. “Why would she tell you she’s pregnant if she wasn’t keeping the baby?”
“I don’t know.” Georgia shrugs, focusing on me. “You don’t want to be with Matthew anymore. A kid kind of makes it impossible to cut ties with him.”
“Women raise kids alone all the time,” Amelia says quietly.
“Except I’m not going to be raising this kid alone.” I hope that’s not a lie. I don’t think it is. Dayton did tell the doctor that he’s the dad, and he has been wildly attentive and sweet—like bringing me dinner last night and showing up out of the blue this morning with a bagel and decaf iced coffee. I feel like we’re becoming friends, although some of my thoughts about him are anything but platonic. “And the baby isn’t Matthew’s.”
Amelia’s eyes widen. “The baby isn’t Matthew’s?”
“Who’s the dad, then?” Georgia asks at the same time.
“His name is Dayton. He’s an attorney,” I reply, and her nose scrunches, making me laugh. She also dated an attorney—one of Matthew’s friends, actually—and he forever ruined her for all other men of that profession.
“He’s different and actually kind of…” I pause, trying to come up with the right word to describe him. “Awesome.”
“I didn’t even know you had hooked up with anyone since Matthew.” Georgia’s eyes narrow on Molly. “Did you know about this?”
“I wasn’t hooking up with him,” I answer before Molly can respond, and Georgia can start interrogating her on what she knows and, in turn, get pissed that she didn’t know about Dayton first—which is her way. “It’s just something that happened.”
“How do your parents feel?” Amelia asks, and I rub my lips together. “Do they know?”
“Mom knows, but Dad doesn’t. I’m going to tell him soon. I wanted to see where things were at with me and Dayton before I shared the news with him.”
“What do you mean?”
“Dayton had a vasectomy, so he didn’t think the baby was his at first,” I admit, and Georgia’s mouth opens and closes while Amelia starts to choke on the sip of wine she took. “I knew he was because he’s the only guy I’ve been with in almost a year. Still, he had a valid reason to question if I was being honest.”
“You had unprotected sex with him?” Amelia whispers.
“Really, Amelia? That’s what you got from this? How the heck do you think she ended up pregnant?” Molly asks, and I start to laugh.
“I don’t know. Maybe the condom broke,” Amelia snaps.
“How old is he?” Georgia asks, and I focus on her while Amelia and Molly bicker at each other.
“I don’t know.” I probably should since I’m having his child, but it’s one more thing I don’t know about him. “I’d guess in his thirties.”
“Does he have kids already?”
“No, he didn’t want kids.”
“Damn,” she says quietly, and my heart squeezes. Damn is right, and Georgia gets that more than most people because she also doesn’t want kids. “But he’s going to be involved?”
“I think so. I mean, he hasn’t said it, but he went to the doctor’s appointment with me yesterday, and we had dinner together last night, and he brought me breakfast this morning.”
“That’s good. And you know that if he doesn’t step up, we’re here for you.”
“I know,” I whisper, and she sighs when she notices the tears filling my eyes.
“Don’t start crying.”
“I’m not going to.” I suck back the tears. She’s never done well when even one of us has gotten emotional. That’s why, if something is happening in my life and I need to cry about it, I don’t call her—I call Molly or Amelia. She’s the person I call when I need a pep talk and a reminder that I’m a badass.
“When do we get to meet him?” Amelia asks, and I shrug.
“I have no idea. Right now, we are just getting to know each other.”
“Take your time,” she says as a shadow falls over the table.
“Are you ladies ready for the check, or would you like another drink?” our waiter, Lee, asks, and I start to open my mouth to tell him that we are ready for the check, but my eyes catch on Dayton sitting at the bar, and my heart plummets into my stomach.
It’s not seeing him dressed like he came here after work and only took enough time to roll up his sleeves and loosen his tie that catches me off guard. No, it’s the woman sitting next to him with a bright smile on her face that does. Well, that and the fact that she’s gorgeous, with dark hair slicked back in a tight ponytail, emphasizing her elegant features. I can’t see the bottom half of her from where I’m sitting, but either her dress or her top accentuates her cleavage, especially when she leans into him and laughs at something he says. He grins at her in return.
Is this the woman he’s supposed to be fake dating for Billy?
Oh God, I’m going to be sick.
“Are you okay?” Molly asks, and I tug my eyes off Dayton and the woman he’s with.
“Yeah, sorry. Are you guys ready, or did you want another drink?”
“I think we’re all ready,” Georgia says, and I’m instantly relieved.
“All right, is this all on one check or separate?” Lee asks.
“I’ve got it,” Georgia tells him, passing over a card from her wallet before any of us have a chance to reply.
“I could have covered my portion.” Molly sighs.
I don’t add that I could do the same. I know it’s pointless. Georgia likes paying—it makes her feel good, and I gave up arguing with her about it a long time ago.
“Victor likes paying.”
“Does he?” Amelia asks.
“He likes whatever I like, so yes,” she answers, and I smile.
After more than a few failed relationships, Georgia found Victor, who is twice her age. If I didn’t know for a fact that her trust fund could more than afford her current lifestyle, I’d question if she was with him for his money. But she doesn’t need him. She’s with him because he worships the ground she walks on and is mature enough to give her space to do the things she enjoys without making her feel guilty for having a life outside of him.
It took a good two years for Victor’s kids to realize the same and accept her into their family, but her parents still haven’t come around. They are set on the idea of her getting married one day and giving them grandbabies—two things she doesn’t want.
I’m just happy that she found someone who adores her.
“Is he home this weekend?” I ask her as Lee comes back with the check.
“No, he’s in Paris. I’m flying out to meet him Tuesday.” She signs the receipt, then motions for Amelia to slide out of the booth so she can, too, while I wait for Molly to get out on my side. Once I’m on my feet, it takes all my willpower not to look toward the bar and check if Dayton is still there as we walk through the restaurant. “If you didn’t have PJ, I’d ask you to come with me.”
“You could ask me to come with you,” Molly says, and Georgia turns to her.
“I would, but I know you’d say no because you have to work. Just like I know Amelia would say no because Laurence would lose his mind if she told him that she was going on vacation without him.”
“He wouldn’t lose his mind; he’d just pout about it for months afterwards,” she says, and I laugh while Georgia replies.
“Same thing.”
“Franny.”
Oh God.
My eyes slide closed, and I debate, pretending like I didn’t hear my name being called and pushing through the door that is just a few steps away. If I were by myself, I might, but not when I can feel Molly, Georgia, and Amelia all looking at me.
Slowly, like I’m swimming against a heavy current, I turn to face Dayton and find him alone, the woman he was sitting with, nowhere in sight.
“Oh, hey, what are you doing here?” I force a smile, and he frowns.
“I was having a drink with a friend.”
That should offer me relief, but it doesn’t. There are a million types of friends, and she could be the kind with benefits. Also, I shouldn’t even care that he’s out with a woman, even one with benefits. We’re having a baby together, not starting a life together. I’m so screwed.
“Are you going to introduce us to your friend?” Of course, it’s Georgia who asks because she is the nosiest of everyone.
“Sorry, yes. Molly, Amelia, Georgia, this is Dayton. Dayton, these are my best friends.”
“Nice to meet you,” he says, his gaze coming back to me quickly. “Are you on your way home?”
Why does he keep looking at me like that?
“She is,” Molly tells him, then adds, “You two live in the same building, right?”
“Molly,” I whisper-hiss, and she shrugs.
“What? If he’s going home, he could save me the gas.”
“You don’t pay for your gas.”
“Okay, then he could help save the environment.” She smiles. “We all have to do our part, right?”
“You don’t have to give me a ride home.” I look up at him. “I’m sure you have better things to do.”
“Nope, and your friend’s right. We all need to do our part to save the environment.” He grins.
“Well, I guess we’ll leave you here then.” Georgia steps forward to give me a quick hug with a quiet order to call her when I’m alone. Amelia doesn’t tell me to call her, but she does ask if I want to get lunch Monday, so I know that’s when she plans on grilling me about Dayton.
And Molly just says, “Have fun,” with a little laugh that makes me roll my eyes. When we step outside, the girls walk down the block toward the parking lot, while Dayton and I head in the opposite direction.
“Did you have fun tonight?” he asks, and I tip my head back to look up at him.
“Yeah, you?”
“I wouldn’t say I had fun, but it was all right. Did you eat?”
“Yes.” I stumble over my own feet when someone behind us shouts his name. “Thanks,” I whisper when he grabs my upper arm to catch me.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, just clumsy.” I turn with him and watch a man jog our direction, the woman I saw at the bar who I thought Dayton was with standing a few feet back like she is waiting for the guy running towards us.
“Dude, you forgot your card at the bar.”
“Shit, thanks man.” Dayton takes the card from him and puts it in his wallet.
“No problem.” His friends gaze comes to me, and he smiles.
“William, this is Franny, Franny, William.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“You too.” He focuses back on Dayton. “I’ll call you.”
“Yeah man, tell Gem good night.”
“Will do.” He smiles then jogs back down the block to who I’m guessing is Gem and when he meets up with her, she lifts her hand and waves in our direction. I wave in return trying not to overthink why I feel so relieved that Dayton wasn’t out with her.
“Sorry about that.” Dayton mutters and I latch onto my bottom lip with my teeth when he takes my hand in his. It’s huge, engulfs mine, and causes tingles to shoot up my arm. I don’t remember the last time I held hands with anyone. Matthew wasn’t the kind of guy to show casual affection, so we never held hands or kissed outside of the bedroom. We didn’t even cuddle on the couch while watching TV together.
“It’s good you got your card back.”
“Yeah.” He agrees as we stop at his SUV. Opening the door for me, he stands in the doorway until I’m buckled before jogging around the hood to the driver’s side.
“How was work?” I ask as he’s sliding behind the wheel, and he turns to look at me.
“All right, but I’m glad it’s the weekend.” He starts the engine and begins backing out of the parking space.
“Eighteen items were recovered from the crime scene. Those included bedding, clothes, an open soda can left in the middle of the bedroom floor, and a knife block from the kitchen counter that was missing one knife. The knife handle was found under Alice’s body, the blade still in her back, hair, carpet fibers…”
As I’m trying to figure out what I’m listening to, it switches, and music begins to play through the speakers.
“What was that?” I ask, and he glances over at me.
“A podcast.”
“You listen to true crime podcasts?”
“Not normally.” He focuses on me as he comes to a stop at a red light. “But the woman who runs TheForgotten got ahold of the case I’m working on about a year ago and started looking into it. After doing her own investigation, she approached the department and paid for the DNA testing that we are using to bring charges against the person responsible for the murder.”
“Why didn’t the department pay for the testing?”
“Testing costs money, and typically, those funds are allocated to the most recent cases. Even then, the cops have to pick and choose which cases take precedence.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep.”
“That’s messed up,” I whisper.
“It is,” he agrees.
“So, what happens if a woman is raped? They could just choose that it’s not important enough to send off for testing?”
“I think they try to prioritize those cases, but that doesn’t mean some aren’t left behind.”
“Oh my God,” I breathe, and he reaches over, wrapping his hand around mine and squeezing before letting go.
“It’s fucked, and no one likes it, not even the cops who have to deal with it.”
“How do we change that?”
“Not sure it’s possible to change it, Franny. Each police department only gets so much money per year, and DNA testing is expensive, especially when you’re talking about using the newest technology.”
“But this girl with the podcast was able to pay for it herself?”
“She was.”
“So can other people just pay for DNA testing for cases that are being left behind?”
“Franny—”
“Yes or no, Dayton?”
“I guess. I’m not really sure how any of that works, babe.”
I don’t know when he decided to start calling me babe, but I like it way more than I should.
“Maybe I could talk to my mom about it, she’s always raising money for different causes.” I glance out the window as the city goes by in a flicker of lights. The idea that a woman—or anyone—can be hurt, and the only thing keeping the person responsible for hurting them from going to jail is the cost of a DNA test, makes me ill. I can understand that the system is messed up and that there is only so much money to go around, but in my mind, some things should be a priority.
“Have you thought about when you’re going to tell your dad about the baby?”
The question brings me out of my thoughts, and I feel sick for a different reason.
“No. I don’t know. Soon,” I say, and he laughs softly. “I’m glad one of us can laugh about it,” I mutter.
“What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Um, he could force me to tell him who the father is and then harass you until you give in to whatever demands he makes.”
“I’ve got some shit to work through, but I’m here. I’ll be here.”
“You have shit to work through?”
“I didn’t have the best childhood, and I don’t want that shit to ever touch our kid. So yeah, I have some shit to work through.”
“Do you want to tell me about that?” I ask, feeling warmth fill me at him calling the baby “ours.”
“Not right now, but eventually.”
“Okay,” I agree, not wanting to push him, even though I really want to.