19. Charlie
“Charlie? Sweetie? You okay?”
I slowly blink open my eyes to see Mellie staring down at me, brushing my hair off my forehead.
“Mellie? What are you doing here? Why are you in my apartment?”
“Well, you asked me to the diner today so we could start organizing the kitchen, but the doors were locked and you weren’t answering your phone. Luckily, the property manager happened to be here and let me in. He’s a really nice guy. Cute, too. And when he called me ‘darlin’’ I about lost it. Do you think?—”
I don’t hear another word as a wave of nausea overtakes me. I throw the covers off me, possibly slapping Mellie in the process, race down the hall, barely making it to my bathroom.
And then, I throw up.
I throw up so much.
This is the worst. The actual worst.
I’ve been sick at least once a day for weeks now. I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve thrown up. And no matter what I do, eat, or take, it isn’t going away.
“Girl, did you get drunk last night without me?” Mellie asks as I rest my head on my arm, which is currently draped across the toilet—also known as my new best friend.
“I wish. At least this would have a reason,” I say. “I haven’t drank in months. Too much going on.”
I hear the sound of water running before feeling a cool compress on the back of my neck. “Did you eat something weird?”
“No. Hell, I can barely eat anything these days.”
“Wait. How long have you been sick?”
I sit up, keeping the wash cloth on my neck. “I don’t know? Few weeks?”
“And haven’t you told me you’ve been overly tired?”
“Yeah, but that’s because of the long hours and the double duty. And the manual labor is more than what I’m used to.”
“And you haven’t seen a doctor?”
I shake my head. “I don’t need to see a doctor because I’ve been a little nauseous. That’s what Pepto is for. You know. The pink stuff.”
“Well, you’re going to need a doctor, since you’re pregnant.”
I snap my gaze to hers, which makes me want to be sick all over again. “What did you just say?”
“I think, possibly, maybe, you might be pregnant.”
I laugh. I actually laugh so much I throw up again, that’s how funny it is.
When that round’s done, I take the washcloth off my neck and quickly wipe my mouth with it. “Listen, I know we haven’t seen each other as much as we were used to, but I can assure you, I’m not pregnant.”
“Really? Morning sickness. Constant exhaustion. Steady nausea. And while I promise I wasn’t staring, your boobs are looking rather…generous.”
I take a second to think about it, and shit, they are sore. So sore.
Which I noticed over the last few days, but I just thought that was a sign of my period coming.
The period that hasn’t come.
That I haven’t had since I moved here.
“Oh my God! I haven’t had my period. Since…I don’t know!” Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!. “Oh my God, Mellie, I can’t be pregnant. I can’t be.”
I mean it. I can’t be. There’s never a good time to be accidentally pregnant, but this is for sure the worst time for me. I’m days away from the restaurant opening. Supplies are starting to be delivered, and we’re in the final stages of getting everything ready. I was supposed to meet with the line cooks who wanted to stay on from Mona’s this week. I have a whole restaurant to set up. I don’t have time to be pregnant.
And then there’s the whole fact that if I am, this is Simon’s baby.
The man who most likely hates me now.
The man who, as it turns out, I don’t hate at all.
I curl up in a ball against my bathtub as my friend comes over and puts her arms around me. “Hey, we don’t know anything yet. I’m sorry I freaked you out. It’s probably not the case. You know I like to assume the worst.”
“You are a literal ray of fucking sunshine, and the glass is always overflowing. Quit trying to make me feel better.”
“I’m sorry,” she says as she pulls me in tighter. “Okay. Apparently my observation might have some possibilities, which means there’s only one thing to do.”
“Crawl in a hole, hope this was a false alarm, and hide from the world until it passes?”
She laughs. “Unfortunately, no. It’s time you pee on the stick.”
I couldn’t go and buy it. One, I was embarrassed, and two, another round of sickness hit, making me physically unable to leave my bathroom. And bless Mellie’s heart, she drove a half hour out of town to buy six different kinds of tests.
And all six are telling me that I’m pregnant.
“Holy shit! You’re going to be a mama!” Mellie is squeezing me while jumping up and down as I stand still, and in shock, in my bathroom.
I don’t say anything. I don’t think I even blink. I just stare down at the six tests and the ten pink lines staring back at me. It’s not twelve because one of the tests just says “pregnant.”
Thanks, test. Really drove the point home when I saw it in writing.
“I’m going to be a mom.”
I might have whispered the words, but I might as well have shouted them from the rooftops. And the second the last word comes out, the reality hits.
I’m going to be a mom.
A single mom.
A broke, single mom who just took the biggest leap of faith in her life and now is questioning every decision I’ve made over the last month.
A broke, single mom who is carrying a baby by a man who probably hates her.
An about-to-be mom who really misses her mom right now.
Because I don’t know what to do. And my mom would. She’d know exactly what to do.
And all I can think to do right now is cry.
“Hey,” Mellie says, joining me on the cool tile that I just slid down to. “I know you’re scared.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
“And you don’t have to make any decisions today.”
I nod, though I already know that I’m keeping it. I always wanted to be a mom. I just thought since I was thirty-six and had no prospects and couldn’t afford to do it on my own, that it wasn’t in the cards for me.
But here it is. Just not exactly as planned.
“There’s no decision to make. I’m keeping it.”
“Okay, then,” she says. “Can I ask?”
“It’s Simon’s.”
“Oh. When you…”
I nod. “Yup. This baby was literally conceived because of hate and tequila.”
“It will be quite a story when it makes its way to the world. And I was there to make it happen. Oh! Aunt Mellie. I love it. Can I buy the first baby apron? I already know the Etsy store.”
I laugh and sit back, letting my head rest against the wall. “Mellie? What am I going to do?”
She takes my hand in hers and gives it a squeeze. “What you always do. Survive. Make shit happen. Be the badass you are. And know that this little person is going to have the best mama in the world.”
And now I’m crying again. “I don’t know about that. I didn’t even realize I was pregnant.”
“But you do now. And you’re already making the plan in your head. Which is how I know this baby is going to be the best surprise of your life.”
That’s one way to look at it. The other part is, holy shit, what am I doing, can I do this? I mean, I have to. I want to. And I will. Even if I have to do this alone.
Oh God, what am I going to tell Simon? How am I going to tell Simon? How is he going to react? The man is a bachelor to his core. Always has been, and I’m guessing since I haven’t seen him with anyone since I’ve moved here, always will be. All of his friends have settled down. I’m guessing if he wanted that in his life, he would’ve already done it by now.
Then I stop and think about when I saw him at the wedding with the little girl who I’ve since found out is his goddaughter. The way he interacted with her made me look at Simon in a whole new light.
Is that the kind of dad he’d be? I know he can be frustrating and aggravating, but I know that’s just part of him. I might have hated him for the better part of two decades, but I remember the man I got to know. The man I’ve started to see more recently. The man who pulled Billy off me. The man who sent workers to the restaurant every day.
The man who’s about to be my baby’s father.
“I have to tell Simon,” I say. “I can’t let this wait.”
“Agreed,” Mellie says. “You can do it on his daily drop-in. Is he still doing those?”
I shake my head. “I doubt it. We… had a fight on Saturday. He didn’t come by at all yesterday.”
“Oh,” she says. “I’m sure it was a coincidence.”
“It wasn’t. And I don’t know when, or if, he’ll come back.”
I go on to explain our fall-out two days ago; as I repeat it the sordid tale, I’m even more embarrassed than I was then.
His sister. All these years and all my rage, and it was because of his sister. And worse, I shut him out. I disappeared from the world and left him hanging.
I don’t need an internet forum to tell me what I now know: I am the asshole.
“I want to apologize, but what do I say? I’ve held a grudge for years because of my own insecurities and past pretenses. How do you apologize for something like that?”
“I don’t know,” Mellie says. “Cook for him?”
I appreciate Mellie’s attempt to lighten the mood, but it’s not working. “Thanks. I don’t know if there’s enough french toast in the world to make up for this.”
A banging on the door, followed by Simon’s voice startles me. “Bug! Charlie! Open the door!”
How loud is he yelling? I’m in the back of the apartment, and I can hear him clear as day.
“Shit! What is he doing here?”
“Coming for french toast?”
“You’re not helping!” I say, doing my best to stand up, despite being a little lightheaded. “He can’t see me like this!”
“Charlie! If you don’t open the door in thirty seconds, I’m breaking it down.”
“You splash some water on your face. I’ll go let him in.” Mellie gives me a quick hug before exiting the bathroom, leaving me to gather myself.
I stare at my reflection and debate if this is the time to tell him. The short answer is yes. I have to. For one, I don’t know why he’s here, but if it’s to tell me he never wants to see me again—which I’d understand—I need him to know. After what Lila’s mom did to Connor, I will not keep the other parent of this child in the dark.
“We got this.” I put my hand over my stomach, which somehow gives me the little bit of strength I need to turn and leave the bathroom. But before I can even take a step out of the door, Simon comes barreling in, almost running me over as he barges into my bathroom.
“What the hell?”
“Are you okay?”
His eyes are wild and his breathing is heavy. His hands are holding my face like he’s checking to make sure I’m not hurt.
“I’m fine.” Relatively speaking. “I should be asking if you’re okay. Why are you rushing in here? And what’s in the bag?”
“Me. I’m fine. In the bag?” He opens it up looks down at the inventory. “Four different kinds of medicines. A bottle of orange juice. Ginger ale. And an essential oil that a girl with a nose ring at the counter slipped in for free. But enough about that. Are you okay? I was worried.”
“How did you know I was sick?”
Simon’s breathing finally slows. “Emmett said you weren’t picking up your phone and Mellie couldn’t get in—lovely girl, by the way—so he let her in. Then he noticed that she left but came back an hour later with a bag from a drug store. So I took a shot.”
I’m too confused to be grateful. “Wait a second. You got all of this from Emmett? Why are you talking to my building manager?”
He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out for a few seconds. “I stopped by. Saw him here. Never mind that. Are you okay?”
“Let’s go talk in the living room,” I say, guiding him out of the bathroom before he spies the pregnancy tests lining my sink. Thank goodness my hips are big enough to block views sometimes. Really comes in handy.
“Sit.” I sit next to him as he puts his bag of drug store remedies on the coffee table. “Before you say anything else, I need to say I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t care.”
Excuse me? “You don’t care?”
“Well, I do care. Thank you. I really do. That’s not what I meant to say. And you can say you’re sorry later. But I need to say what I practiced or I’m going to forget it.”
“You practiced what you wanted to say? Like in front of a mirror?”
“In fact it was. I don’t think before I speak most times, and I didn’t want to say anything stupid.” Simon pauses to breathe and takes my hands in his. “Bug, I understand why you reacted the way you did back then. Hell, if the shoe was on the other foot, I can honestly say I probably would have done the same thing. Or I would have gone to jail for killing a guy. Either way, I would have acted first and thought later. I know who I am as a person. And what you went through with your mom, I can’t even imagine.”
I nod. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
“I’m not done.”
“Apologies. Continue.”
“Thank you.” He takes another deep breath, and I feel my smile forming at how cute and nervous he looks. It reminds me of the night of our first kiss. Funny how just a few days ago, thinking of that night brought me nothing but sadness. Now all I feel are butterflies. “We can’t change the past. And while I know I was living in it, begging for answers, I don’t want to be that man anymore. I just want to think about the future. And, I want that future to be with you.”
I think my jaw just dropped. “You what?”
He smiles that beautiful smile. “Charlie, I’m not one to believe in signs or the grand scheme of a universe, but it has to mean something that after all these years, you’re back in my life. And in this town. In this building. And, well, if you’re here, I want to be here with you. I don’t want to waste another day, Bug. I want to be with you. That is, if you’ll have me.”
I feel the tears welling in my eyes. He sounds so sure. So convicted.
And I’m about to drop the other shoe square on his head.
“Simon…”
“No. Don’t say anything else.”
“What?”
“Before you reject me, might I remind you that I brought you medicine? And I practiced. I thought before I spoke. You know how hard that was for me.” He looks downright reproachful.
I laugh. “It’s not that. And I’m not rejecting you. There’s just something else you need to know. Something that might change your mind.”
He shakes his head. “Nope. Don’t care. Whatever it is, I’m not changing my mind about us.”
“You say that now…”
“Whatever you say, Bug, I promise I won’t change my mind. Lay it on me.”
Welp, here goes nothing.
“I’m pregnant.”