Chapter One
Phoebe
Of all the ways I ever imagined spending the Christmas of my thirty-first year, I can say, with certainty, tracking down the Santa Claus who impregnated me was not one of them.
Yet, here we are.
“Oooh, this place is nice, Phoebe.” Gavin walks into the living room and sets down a box marked Lincoln.
“Maybe the owners will decide to stay overseas so you can buy the place. The furniture is pretty sick.” My idiot brother flops face down on my furnished rental’s overstuffed blue velvet couch and groans obscenely into the cushion.
“Oh, man. You don’t want to know the dirty things I’m thinking of doing to this couch. ”
It’s not every day I rent a place sight unseen, so you can imagine the relief I felt when we got here and the place looked precisely like it had in the photos.
That I found a furnished place on such short notice, right before the holidays, could be considered a miracle in itself.
Finding a nice place in a safe neighbourhood?
Yeah, there had to have been some divine intervention involved for that to happen.
Maybe I’ve had a visit from the Ghost of Christmas Present.
Heh. Get it? Because finding this place had been a gift.
A gift that I don’t want defiled by my disgusting brother and whatever he plans on doing to my new couch, regardless of how temporarily it’s in my possession.
“Ew, don’t be gross, Gavin. And get your stinky ass off the couch. You’re filthy.”
“Hey! Is that any way to treat the guy who spent one of his infrequent days off both school and work carrying all your boxes into the house?” He drags himself off the couch. “Speaking of carrying boxes, didn’t you promise me pizza and beer as payment for helping you move?”
“Ha! Nice try, kid. I’ll order pizza, but you’re sticking with soda until you’re of legal age. Plus, you still need to drive home so I wouldn’t let you drink even if you were old enough.”
Gavin is only eighteen, my much younger sibling from my mom’s second marriage.
Two days after my mom gave birth to Charlie, and with a few months left to go before my second birthday, my biological father decided being a father wasn’t really his thing, and he left.
It took Mom a long time to find another man worth taking a chance on after that.
She started dating Warren ten years later, and they married a couple of years after that when Gavin was born.
Like most teenage guys, Gavin is all raging hormones and unrestrained snark.
But, despite his many annoying traits, he has a huge heart, and that’s why he’s one of my favourite people.
No one was angrier than Gavin when I found myself waiting at the altar for a man I knew in my heart wasn’t right for me.
He spent that night a year ago storming around the hotel, hoping to run into my former fiancé so he could unleash his teenage fury.
It’s probably a good thing he never found him, though.
I doubt it would have been a fair fight.
Webster kept himself in excellent shape and would have been more than a match for seventeen-year-old Gavin.
Seventeen-year-old Gavin was a short, scrawny little shit.
Eighteen-year-old Gavin is almost six and a half feet tall and packed with muscle.
He’s never said so, but I’m pretty sure he started working out after the wedding disaster, so he’d be ready if he ever saw my ex again.
After a year of protein shakes and lifting weights, not to mention a huge growth spurt, Gavin is formidable.
It still wouldn’t be a fair fight, but the advantage would go to Gavin, not Webster.
He took it pretty hard when I told him Webster did me a favor that day.
I almost felt guilty for not being as upset as Gavin about the situation.
It had been a shock when I got the text telling me he wasn’t coming, but not marrying Webster Day turned out to be the best thing that could have happened.
It seemed like a dick move at first, but in the end, he made the best decision for both of us.
I’d been considering making that same decision that morning as I sat through the hours of hair and makeup appointments required to turn me into a blushing bride.
I should have done it, too. If we’d both skipped out on the wedding, I bet we’d have been able to get past it a lot faster.
To this day, I’ve yet to speak to Webster face to face.
The failed wedding incident has forced me to connect with my lifelong best friend through phone calls and the odd video chat only.
Which sucks. I could have used his support when I found myself pregnant and alone.
“No way. Charlie said she would do the driving on the way home.” Gavin jumps up off the couch and yells down the back hallway, “Isn’t that right, Charlie?”
Oh, shit. Despite being one of my favourite people, I will still murder Gavin if he wakes up Lincoln. That thing they say about never waking a sleeping baby? Yeah, that’s not just an old wives’ tale.
“Shhh. Will you shut up?” I slap my hand over his mouth. “Lincoln is sleeping.”
He looks so sheepish I could almost believe he felt bad about waking my baby if I didn’t already know better.
There’s no way Gavin would leave here without saying goodbye to his nephew, even if that nephew is a baby who still hasn’t figured out things don’t disappear when he can’t see them.
Gavin is sure he has a special bond with my baby, though, and it’s something he’s incredibly proud of.
I believe they have a bond, too. Lincoln always seems calmer when his Uncle Gavin is holding him.
And Gavin never misses a chance to hold him, even when he has to make his own chances.
“Too late,” Charlie says, coming out of the back hallway with a tiny baby snuggled in her arms. “The little guy was awake when I tried to sneak into the room to drop off a box. I think he sensed me because as soon as I walked in, an unholy rumbling started coming out of his little rear end. You’ll need to do laundry, by the way.
I rinsed everything and left it to pre-soak.
” She looks down at Lincoln with a grin and singsongs, “Isn’t that right, Linky?
Mommy has to do laundry. Yes, she does. She’s lucky Auntie Charlie changed you and the sheets instead of running away and letting her deal with it. ”
My heart swells while I watch my little sister snuggle my baby, and not for the first time, I second-guess my decision to move back to Westborough.
What am I going to do without my family around to help me for the next three months?
Why did I follow through with this terrible idea?
Oh, right. If I want Lincoln to have the chance to meet his father, this is where I need to be.
And my sense of right and wrong won’t let me entertain the thought of not trying to find his father.
There’s a man out there who doesn’t know he has a son, and that doesn’t sit right with me.
There’s still a possibility he will decide not to, but I want him to have the option to be involved in Lincoln’s life.
So, even if he ends up being a dickhead like my own biological father who wanted nothing to do with me or my sister, I’m going to find Lincoln’s father and give him a chance to do better.
“Hey, hey. None of that now. I can see your brain working from here.” Gavin is back on the couch, getting his sweaty teenage boy smell all over it.
Whatever, I’ll use a fabric refresher on it when he leaves.
He can’t stink it up too badly in such a short time, can he?
“Everything is going to be fine. Tell her your news, Charlie. I can’t handle seeing Fifi cry. ”
I rub my fingertips over my cheeks, and sure enough, they come away wet. “Sorry if my feelings offend you, you little twerp. I’m going to miss you guys, that’s all. I’m allowed to be sad about that.”
He jumps up off the couch and wraps me in a sweaty hug. “I’m going to miss you too, Fifi,” he says. “But you won’t have to miss Charlie.”
I blink a few times and pull myself out of his embrace. “What’s he talking about?” I ask Charlie, then repeat my question to Gavin. “What are you talking about?”
Gavin takes Lincoln from Charlie, snuggling him to his chest, and takes him into the kitchen. I hear the cupboard doors open and close and the water running in the sink. Sounds like Uncle Gavin is making his nephew a bottle.
“I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d try to talk me out of it, but I’m staying with you.
You have the third bedroom I can sleep in.
I even got myself a part-time job at a coffee shop.
I’m staying to help you with Lincoln so you can focus on finding his dad.
It will be easier to track him down if you don’t have to bring Lincoln with you everywhere you go.
Plus, I can’t be away from you guys for that long.
” Charlie’s eyes are shiny with unshed tears.
“You know I can’t get enough of those midnight feedings,” she jokes.
I chuckle. “Are you sure? You don’t have to put your life on hold for me, Charlie. I love you for wanting to do this, but you don’t have to stay.”
“I know that,” she says, wrapping her arms around me. “I want to stay.”
“You’re the best sister I could ever ask for,” I choke through a sob. “I couldn’t have made it this far without you.”
And it’s true. The seemingly endless months of my pregnancy would have been so much harder if it hadn’t been for the help of my brother and sister, and, of course, my mom and stepdad.
I’ll never admit it to them, but after living back home with my parents for the last year, and having my family around all the time, I was a little scared to be on my own with Lincoln.
I loved living here with Webster, but being on my own with a baby is different.
The excitement of Westborough seems almost scary when I think about protecting my son from unseen dangers.
I tried to play it cool, but I’m thinking I didn’t do such a good job of it if Charlie covertly arranged to move here with me.
I’ve never been so happy to be such a shitty liar.
“Are you guys done with all the girly feelings out there? Me and the big guy want to come chill on that sweet-ass couch, but we don’t want your emotional breakdowns cramping our style. It’s hard to relax with all this crying going on.”
Charlie and I both burst into laughter. After one more squeeze, I let her go.
“Yeah, we’re done,” I call out. “I’ll order that pizza now so you can get on the road.”
“Oh, yeah. About that,” he says, walking back to the living room with my son in the crook of his arm.
“Mom told me to spend the night and drive back in the morning. She doesn’t want me driving alone at night in the winter.
I don’t know what she thinks I do after work at home.
It’s usually pretty late by the time I get out of the market. ”
Charlie sits next to him on the couch, her eyes on Lincoln. “There’s a huge difference between driving five minutes in Fallbridge at ten at night and driving on the highway at two in the morning. Especially in the middle of winter.”
“Yeah, yeah. Okay, Mother,” he teases. “I’m already staying the night. Happy?”
“You bet,” she says while ruffling his hair, taking advantage of the fact that he has his hands full feeding Lincoln. “We just wuv you so much, Gavvers,” she adds in a baby voice. “It would devastate us if anything happened to you.”
“Hey, no fair. Hands off the hair. Do you know how long it took to get it like that?”
They sit side by side, alternating between cooing over Lincoln and bickering with each other while I busy myself with ordering the pizzas.
After I do that, I focus on unpacking my few boxes.
The best part about finding a furnished rental is how little I had to pack to come here.
It would have sucked if I’d had to move my furniture out of storage for such a temporary stay.
Three months isn’t long enough to justify renting a moving van.
I only hope three months is long enough to find Lincoln’s dad.
The doorbell rings, and Gavin hops up to grab the pizzas. “Oh, thank god. I’m starving,” he says, spreading the boxes down on the coffee table and flipping one open. “I’m a growing boy, you know.” He grabs two slices and stacks them sandwich style.
I bring plates and napkins out from the kitchen. “We know, Gavin. You tell us every time you get even the tiniest bit hungry.”
He wiggles his eyebrows, and grins before shoving the makeshift sandwich in his mouth.
“So, Phoebe. Why don’t you tell me how you’re going to find this guy? You didn’t go into much detail when you announced you were moving here for three months to look for him. Do you even have any idea where he is?”
I heave a sigh. We’ve hit on the biggest problem with my plan.
It sucks. Getting drunk and hooking up with a stranger after skipping your own wedding would be a lot easier to get over if you didn’t get yourself pregnant in the process.
Failing that, it would be nice if you remembered the name of the guy or any detail about him other than he’d been dressed as Santa Claus for a Christmas party being held at the same hotel as your wedding.
The only things I have to go on are the luxurious red velvet coat I stole when I crept out, and a blurry photo I took of his face mashed into the pillow. Not great clues.
Why did I take his jacket, you ask? I guess I thought my walk of shame would feel less shameful if I covered my wedding dress with Santa’s jacket.
It didn’t. But I made it back to my room without being seen, packed up, and headed home with no one finding out I spent what should have been my wedding night with a stranger.
Until a month and a half later, when two pink lines gave me the shock of a lifetime, ensuring that everyone would know exactly how I spent that night.
That’s right.
My fiancé left me at the altar and the first thing I did was run out and get knocked up by Santa Claus.
Talk about a Ho Ho Ho.
Keep reading in Santa’s Baby