Chapter 3
Chapter 3
H er apartment was a dump, a tiny, rundown walkup with absolutely zero security. Worse, she shared it with other people, both men and women.
“You have four roommates,” he said, eyes agog at the bodies strewn hither and yon on their way to the bedroom.
“Six,” she countered, opening a door and leading him inside the lone tiny bedroom. “To afford a one bedroom in this part of Manhattan, it’s a necessity. And it still takes most of my paycheck.”
“Where are the other two?” he asked. He had counted only four other people.
“One will be in at midnight. The other works night shift. We bed share,” she explained.
“You what now?” he asked.
“I sleep in this bed at night, and he sleeps in it during the day,” she said.
“He?”
“His name is George. He’s very nice and very clean. And the arrangement means I have an actual bedroom instead of bunking in the living room like the others out there. It’s nice, really.”
“What if you’re both here at the same time?” he asked.
She stopped short. “I don’t know. Never happened yet. I’ll let you know, if it ever comes up.”
“Whose bed is that one?” he asked pointing to the bed approximately eighteen inches away.
“That’s Zoe’s. She’ll be home in a couple of hours, so now’s a good time to talk. Let me nip to the bathroom, brush my teeth, etcetera. Make yourself at home on my bed. Don’t touch Zoe’s stuff or she’ll cut you. Not a euphemism. She’s a butcher.” She pushed aside Zoe’s pillow to show him what appeared at first to be a machete but, on closer inspection, was merely a massive butcher knife.
He sank to Poppy’s bed, his head swimming. Poppy returned in short order wearing pajamas and a clean, makeup-free face that made her look even younger than her twenty four years. Sully suddenly felt lecherous, as if he’d preyed on some teenager. The girl still had roommates, for goodness sake. Six of them. She rested her hand gently on his back.
“How are you holding up there?” she asked, her tone soft.
He released a puff of air that might have been a laugh, if his state of mind were different. “I’m supposed to ask you that.”
“I’m fine,” she said, shifting to cross her arms almost protectively over herself.
“Are you…” he began and then trailed off.
Her head swiveled to look at him, eyes hard. “Am I what?”
“Are you taking vitamins? I heard that’s important.”
She smiled, softening. “Yes, I’m taking vitamins. They’re horse pills, and I don’t have a lot of confidence I’m going to continue to be able to keep them down.”
“What did you think I was going to say?” he asked.
She swallowed hard. “I thought you were going to ask if I was going to keep it.”
“Oh. Honestly, the thought never occurred to me,” he said.
“It occurred to me. In a lot of ways it would be easier, all except the one where I’d have to live with myself after,” she said. “I’m not a hundred percent opposed to adoption.”
“I am.”
She faced him. “You’re opposed to adoption?”
“Of course I’m not opposed to adoption. It’s a wonderful, selfless thing. I just don’t think I could do it. If you don’t want it, I’ll take it and raise it myself.”
“I never said I didn’t want it,” she said, the edge creeping back into her tone. “I’m simply trying to consider all the options, to make the best choice for both of us.”
“Adoption’s not it. I’m comfortable. I have a house and a good job with nice benefits. My family lives in town, they’re tightknit and supportive. I’m in a good place for a kid.” His eyes scoured the room.
“What?” she snapped.
“You’re not,” he said bluntly.
She bristled. “I would make an amazing mother. I have an amazing mother, so I know what it’s supposed to look like.”
“I’m not saying you wouldn’t be a good mother though, if we’re being honest, I have no idea because I don’t know you. I merely mean that this life you’re currently living is completely incompatible with having a baby.”
“You know nothing about my life,” she said.
“I know you have six roommates,” he said.
She rolled her eyes. “Obviously my living situation would have to change.”
“To what?” he asked. “You said you can barely afford this place, even with all the roommates. How are you supposed to miraculously find a place close to your job with fewer people? And who is going to watch the baby when you’re at work?”
“I’ll hire someone. It’s what people do.”
“Who are you going to hire? Some random psycho? Are you going to put the baby in state-run daycare with fifty other kids and one caregiver? How are you going to afford that?”
She pressed her palms to her ears. “Stop it.”
He did. They faced forward, trying to calm down. “I’m not trying to antagonize you,” he said.
“You could have fooled me,” she said.
“I’m pointing out that you can’t do this alone in your current situation,” he said.
“I have nine months to find a solution,” she said.
“You’d better, or else,” he said.
She faced him, and suddenly he saw the resemblance between her and her sister because the look she gave him was chilling. “Or else what?”
“I’ll take sole custody,” he said.
She leaned in, jutting her finger in his face. “Try and take my baby, and I’ll bury myself so deep, you’ll never find us. I know people all around the world, and I know how to hide.”
He believed her completely. He didn’t know exactly what her dad did, but he knew it was something in military intelligence, and he had no doubt the daughters had picked up a thing or two over the years. They stared at each other, an unpleasant tension pounding between them. At last she took a few deep breaths and sat back.
“Look, I want us to be amicable about this. Please believe me when I tell you that, if you want to be involved in this child’s life, I want that, too. Completely. Kids need their dads, and something tells me you’ll be a good one. I’m sure that, in time, we’ll work out a schedule where we each get time. I can visit Bailey so the kid can see Texas, and you can spend some time up here with us. It will be okay.”
He took a couple of steadying breaths, too. “I agree I want us to be amicable, but I also want to be more than a weekend dad.”
“What did you have in mind?” she asked.
“I think we should get married,” he said.