Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
“Papa. Papa, I want to leave. Can we go right now?” There was pure humiliation in his baby’s voice, and Sam responded in the only way humanly possible.
Sam nodded. “Of course.”
He hadn't heard everything, but he'd heard enough. He'd heard "girlfriend". He'd heard "big as a house".
He got it.
He grabbed his phone and put in for an Uber. He knew now what Evan's house number was, and they could go there and talk to Evan later.
“Come on, mi’ja, let’s go.”
They slipped out of the kitchen door without their coats or Hillary’s purse or anything.
At least they had their shoes by the back door, and he had his wallet.
It was quiet out here and very still and fucking cold.
Of course, neither of them had super warm clothes on, because why would they? It was Thanksgiving, and there was cooking going on.
Hil glanced down at her belly. “He’s right. I’m as big as a house.”
“You’re eight and a half months pregnant, mi’ja.” Of course she was big as a house. “You’re very, very pregnant.”
Hil’s eyes were wide, her lips trembling. “Did you see her, though? Why did he sleep with me if that’s his type? I’m so embarrassed.”
“Why? You’re not in love with him, are you?” Girls were so damn complicated.
She shook her head. “No, but I wouldn’t have come to Thanksgiving dinner if he was gonna bring his girlfriend. They all laughed at me.”
“Bobby and Annette didn’t laugh at you, mi’ja.” In fact, he thought Annette was going to rip that kid a new asshole.
She turned on him, her eyes flashing. “No? Don’t you take their side, Papa. Don’t you dare take their side because you’re in love with him. I get to be the most important thing to somebody, and that’s you.”
He nodded without a single hesitation. “You’re absolutely right. Fuck those people. Fuck them until they explode.”
Because he flat-out didn’t know what else to do.
He didn’t even know who to be mad at.
He could be mad at Hillary for not trying to communicate with Max better. He could be mad at himself for putting them both in the situation where they were with strangers on Thanksgiving instead of at Mama’s.
He could blame Evan for deserting them to talk to the Biyaliks. They could blame Max for being a complete dick. He could blame that girl for having a stupid name like Brett.
But none of that, not one bit of the blame, made a difference because his little girl was right here, fingers digging into his arm, staring at him and begging him to be on her side. And that was his job. He was the papa and he loved his hija more than anything else on earth.
He knew Evan would catch up to them at the house, and he would be able to explain what was going on, but right now his baby girl was shivering, crying, and angry.
Hillary sniffled, kind of laughing a bit. “I don’t want them to explode. Just Max. I don’t even want that little girl to explode. Maybe she’ll see what an asshole he is though, and she’ll stop dating him.”
“Yeah well, she shouldn’t have been dating him anyway, knowing he got another girl pregnant.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “You were the ones saying it shouldn’t bother me because we haven’t talked in forever.”
“Don’t point out my flaws when I’m cold, mi’ja. I’m sorry. We should be at home having Thanksgiving with the family.”
She’s snuffled harder. “Do you think we can get Thanksgiving dinner delivered to the house from somewhere?”
“I bet you we can. It isn’t that late in the day.” Jesus. It was only midday, not even one in the afternoon yet. They were supposed to be eating around two, and now the whole day was a clusterfuck.
He checked his phone to see where the Uber was, but he also was hoping that Evan had texted him or something. Nothing yet, but then maybe Evan hadn’t even noticed they were gone.
Sam was trying not to build up a huge head of steam, but he was tired already. He was cold and he was pissed off, so he wrapped an arm around Hillary and steered her out to where they were supposed to meet the Uber. It was supposed to be there in about a minute and a half.
“Oh, Papa, it’s cold.”
“Mira, I’m sorry. I should have thought to grab your coat. I’ll make sure Evan gets everything, though.”
“It’s okay. You left with me, and that’s all that matters.” She was really down already, her anger having faded and her shoulders slumping.
Tears trickled down her cheeks too, and that made him pissed off as all fuck. No one did that to his girl. No one made her cry. He would kick that Max boy’s ass.
The Uber came and he stuffed her in the back and hopped in with her, giving Evan’s address. He knew the front door code, so he didn’t have to worry about standing around in the cold or going to a restaurant or something.
His phone did buzz then. Evan finally chiming in with
Where did you guys go?
Hillary wanted to leave. We’re heading back to your place
He thought Evan might call maybe or something, but his phone didn’t buzz or ring again, so he just went with it.
“I’m so sorry, Papa. I didn’t know…” The tears were coming hard and fast now, streaking down her baby face. “I’ve ruined my whole life.”
“Mira, look, you haven’t. What’s messed up? One Thanksgiving?” And it didn’t matter now, did it?
The baby was coming in a few weeks, and they would love her. That was that.
“These people are way fancier than us, huh?”
“They’re just people.” It was true. They simply were high-dollar, and there was part of him—a big part, an ugly part—that was screaming in pure outrage.
This kid got to go to college, join a fraternity, have a sorority girlfriend, play hockey, and go on his freshman year in college as if he didn’t have a daughter on the way.
Sam’s little girl was the one who was going to end up with Denny’s for fucking Thanksgiving dinner.
And of course there was this huge emotional drama inside him, because if Max wanted to be more involved, Sam would have less time with his grandchild, so there was a part of him that was pleased.
What did that even mean?
Christ, he was so tired of feeling things. He kind of just wanted to go back to work, throw himself in front of a bull a few thousand times, and have a beer with Kacey.
His phone buzzed again, Evan telling him
I’ll be there soon. I’m hashing things out with Max. Light the fireplace, and I’ll order a supper.
He rolled his eyes but that was Evan’s way, right? He wanted to deal with everything.
The ride share driver didn’t talk, which was good because Hillary was crying and clinging to his hand, and he wanted to kill something. At least the guy seemed to be aware that they were having a family drama, and he had realized they didn’t have coats on, too, so he’d cranked up the heat.
In fact, by the time they got to Evan’s house, Sam was feeling a little queasy from too much coffee, not enough food, and too much damn drama.
“All right, mi’ja, let’s go ahead and go on in, and we’ll deal with our Thanksgiving dinner.”
He got out of the car and went around to help her out. As he opened the car door and she stood up, all of a sudden, she screamed—a sharp, short sound that made him blink, and then water splashed everywhere.
“Oh, Jesus.” Oh, this was bad.
Hil’s eyes were the size of saucers. “Papa, Papa, it’s too early.”
He blinked at her, and then just put her back in the Uber driver’s car, ignoring the guy’s squeak. “I need the nearest hospital right now. I’ll pay you double to get us there fast.”
He wasn’t sure if everything was okay, but he swore to God if it wasn’t, he was going to tear that Max kid’s balls off.
“It’ll be all right, baby. I promise.” He held her hand. “I’m right here. We got this.”
* * *
Evan raced upstairs after Max, who had fled to his bedroom like some kind of kid, which he was.
Evan understood that Max was only nineteen, but by the time Evan was nineteen, he had been playing hockey for a year, and he’d been on his own for longer than that, billeting with families all over the United States and Canada.
Time for Max to grow the fuck up and face his responsibilities.
He pounded on Max’s bedroom door and then opened it, not waiting for the kid to call out. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Max shook his head, all hunched shoulders from where he was plopped on his bed, his arms wrapped around his chest. “I didn’t think she would be big like that.”
“Jesus Christ, you’re a fucking idiot.” Evan shook his head. “I want you to get your ass downstairs right now. I want you to apologize to your parents and that little girl. And I want you to take your girlfriend away someplace. I don’t care where.”
“So what, I’m not supposed to have Thanksgiving with my family?” Max snapped.
Evan’s eyes narrowed. “I know you are not snarling at me. I know this, because if you were, that would make you a really, really dumb fuck without a single bit of self-preservation to his name. And that’s a bad quality to have in a person.”
Max’s eyes went wide, and Evan figured he must be looming, but he was going to use every weapon in his arsenal to deal with this.
“I just wanted—”
Evan sliced his hand in the air. “I don’t give a shit what you wanted.
That little girl flew here on her very last week of travel before she drops this baby to see your family.
And all you had to do was show up on time and not be an asshole, and you couldn’t even accomplish that.
And I’m sick of your boys-will-be-boys fucking mentality. ”
Then they heard it, the call from the bottom of the stairs. “Max, you get your ass down here.”
Oh fuck, Max was really in for it now. He thought Evan was bad. Annette was going to rip his head from his neck and shit right down it. He stepped aside, bowing and sweeping an arm across his body, so Max could precede him.
He followed, frowning when he peeked in the kitchen expecting to see Sam and Hillary, and not seeing them there. They must be in the bathroom or something. Then he thought he heard sniffling from the front room, so maybe she was in there with Sam.
Poor little girl.
“What the fuck do you think you were doing?”