4. Myer
M yer~
While my diplomatic talents had landed me that managerial position at work, I still wasn’t a big people person.
Oh, I didn’t mind large crowds or shooting the shit with people, but with my house being my sanctuary, it did bother me when people just stopped by without calling or texting first. With my family being the exception, there were just times when I wanted to enjoy the peace and quietness of my home.
Now, while she’d been as sweet as pie, her enthusiasm for historical re-enactments had been a bit much.
She had also seemed rather bloodthirsty with how disappointed she was that re-enactment actors weren’t allowed to use real weapons.
I mean, short of a Renaissance Fair, it wasn’t like you could just walk into a Walmart and purchase a cat-o-tails.
At any rate, she’d held me hostage in my front yard until my phone had begun to ring, thank you Lord.
I had also made sure to keep my left hand in my pocket most of the time, lest she’d see that I hadn’t been wearing a wedding ring.
Again, though sweet as could be, it was also easy to see that she was the type of grandmother that had the perfect granddaughter for me, and the last thing that I was trying to do was date someone whose grandmother felt that bloodshed was the only way to teach someone a lesson.
Nonetheless, all-in-all, I was happy with the neighborhood.
After breaking up with Paula, I’d wanted a fresh start, and moving had seemed like the first step in accomplishing that.
Now, while it hadn’t had anything to do with sentimentality, the house that we’d been living in had always been too big for just the two of us, and I knew now that Paula had chosen it to make a statement, not to start a family in it, and it hadn’t been that hard to sell it for something different.
I’d also been here only a week, and between work and trying to get settled, I hadn’t been able to meet anyone else, though the neighborhood seemed like a good one.
I had also noticed a lot of families last week when I’d been moving in, and so far, everyone seemed respectful of each other’s space.
Of course, one week wasn’t enough to determine that for sure, but I was still hopeful that no assholes would be popping up later.
Setting my copy of The Control by Michael Layne down, I went to go check on Lilibeth when a knock sounded at my door, and my first instinct was to pretend like I wasn’t home.
If it was Mrs. Lewis again, I might actually have to consider moving again.
However, when the doorbell rang in addition to another knock, a voice also called out, telling me to answer because he knew that I was home.
I immediately went to answer the door, and when I did, Zachary was standing on the other side, his scowl deep with annoyance, though I wasn’t sure what I’d done to annoy the man. I mean, after letting Mom dump on me all throughout dinner last week, you’d think that he’d be feeling more grateful.
“What took you so long?” he asked as he muscled his way past me. “I sent you a text that I was on my way over.”
“Well, you must have text when I was taking a piss,” I told him as I shut the front door. “Unlike you, I don’t take my phone with me everywhere.”
“Everyone’s addicted to their phones,” he pointed out. “It’s not just me.”
“Are we going to start talking about the fall of society, or are you going to tell me what you’re doing here?” I asked as I followed him into my living room.
Turning around to face me, he said, “I think Whitney’s pregnant.”
Okay.
I hadn’t been expecting that.
“What makes you say that?” I asked carefully, knowing what a delicate subject this was for my brother.
“Remember how she was feeling worn down last week?” I nodded. “Well, she can’t shake it, and I caught her throwing up this morning.’”
“No possible chance that it could just be a stomach bug?” I suggested hopefully. “I mean, she does work around a lot of people that come and go.”
“No stomach bug lasts this long, Myer,” he replied, his voice a bit strained.
“Well, what does Whitney say?”
Zachary started pacing my living room floor, and I really did feel for the man. “She insists that she’s not,” he answered. “She swears that she takes her birth control faithfully.”
“Well, birth control isn’t always one-hundred percent effective, so...” I shrugged. “I mean, she shouldn’t count out the possibility completely.”
“Yeah, I told her the same thing,” he practically bit out.
“And what did she say?”
“She still refused to believe that it’s possible.”
Yeah, that wasn’t good.
“Do you remember the last time that she had her period?” I asked. “I mean, you’ve been back for two months already, so...I mean, you’ve gotta know if she’s due or not, right?”
Now, while women liked to believe that men weren’t in tuned with their menstrual cycles, we were.
We were very aware of when that bitch came each month because we were men, and a week without sex really left a lasting impression.
Granted, I wasn’t the type of man that let a little blood stand in my way, but some women were against any kind of physical touch during that time of the month, and Paula had been one of them.
“I don’t know,” he rushed out, his voice sounding a bit panicked. “I...I’m gone more often than I am at home, so I never really...I’ve never really paid attention. Plus, it’s not like we live together.”
That was another thing about my brother’s relationship with Whitney. Two years later, they still didn’t live together because neither of them had seen the point in giving up their own homes, what with him being gone most of the time.
“Okay...I think you need to relax a bit,” I told him. “I mean, women know their bodies, and if Whitney is telling you that it’s the flu, then you should probably believe her, Zach. I mean, why would she lie about something like that?”
“Because I’m a fucking asshole,” he said, and that threw me for a loop.
“What are you talking about?”
I watched my brother run his hands through his hair as he let out a deep sigh.
“Since I first met her, all I’ve talked about was how I didn’t want to get married or have children while still in the service, and so.
..so, I think that she’s lying to me, Myer.
I think that she’s trying to reassure me that she’s not pregnant or is trying to make sure that I don’t accuse her of trying to trap me, and that makes me the biggest asshole on the planet.
” My heart immediately went out to him. “No girl should be scared to tell her boyfriend that she’s pregnant, especially when they’ve both been careful. ”
His argument had merit, and that was unfortunate for their situation. “While that might very well be possible, it still doesn’t make any sense to lie to you about it. I mean, she can’t hide her pregnancy forever.”
“She can if she decides not to keep the baby,” he pointed out, and I’d never heard my brother sound so troubled before.
“And how would you feel about that?” I asked seriously.
“I love her, Myer,” he said, and I didn’t doubt him for one second. “I don’t want to lose her, and I sure as fuck don’t want to lose our child.”
“Then you need to tell her that,” I told him.
“What if she doesn’t believe me?”
I scowled at that. “Believe that you love her? C’mon, she should know that by now. I mean, yeah, you’re hardly ever home, but you’ve still been together for two years.”
“No, what if she doesn’t believe that I want the baby?” he corrected.
“I say you don’t borrow trouble,” I advised. “Go home, talk to her, and tell her how you really feel about her and the possibility that she might be pregnant, then go from there. You never know, she might surprise you.”
Eyeing me, he said, “You know, the more that I feel like she’s pregnant, the more that I want her to be, and if that isn’t crazy, then I don’t know what is.”
“And that is life changing at the drop of a dime,” I joked. “Now, go home and tell her that you love her and hope that she’s pregnant, so that you can finally start the next chapter of your lives.”
“Saw that on a Hallmark card, did we?”
“Either that or one of those stupid jewelry commercials,” I snorted.
After shaking his head at me, he said, “Thank you, big brother.”
“Anytime, little brother.”