Chapter 40
Liz, February 7
That’s it, I’m doing it today. Enough is enough. Matt is supposed to come over after work tonight for a nice dinner. I’m making chicken parmesan and I’m going to tell him I’m having his baby. Wow, is it suddenly hot in here? I’m stressing about this. Let’s hope I can be more tactful than to just blurt it out.
“So, how’s the food?” Small talk. I’m making small talk because I’m scared to talk about the big issue. What if he flips out? What if he doesn’t care? What if… oh my gosh, I’m going to ‘what if’ myself to death.
“It’s amazing. Thank you. I haven’t had a good home-cooked meal in so long.”
Probably since you cooked spaghetti for the Mom you didn’t want me to meet. Wait, that’s unproductive thinking. Focus, Liz. “You’ve been working so hard, you deserve it.” Wait, did that sound like I am happy he’s working so hard? Well, that’s not true. Oops, change the subject. Better idea, bring it around to the subject.
“Hey, can I tell you something kind of important?”
“Shoot.”
“Um, can you look at me?” He obliges, putting his fork down first. “Thank you. Um, I don’t really know how to say this. I guess I’ll just say it.” I take a deep breath then slowly blow it out. “I’m pregnant.”
Matt says nothing. He stares at me, it feels like an eternity is passing. Can’t he say something?
“Seriously?” he finally asks.
I just nod, scared that anything else will cause a chain reaction of events that I accidentally set in motion.
“Liz, that’s fantastic!”
I’m shocked.
“I’m so excited. This is great news. How far along are you?”
“Um, I’m not exactly sure since I haven’t really been to see a doctor yet. Maybe a few months?” I’m so taken aback by his excitement when I was expecting him to be scared, like I was, that I don’t know how to respond.
“This is just so great, aren’t you excited?” Matt’s blue eyes are flashing as he stares at me. “We’re going to have a little family, Liz. A little hockey baby.” He reaches out and rubs my stomach. “I suppose you can’t play hockey again until the baby comes, but that’s alright. I’m so happy. You can move into my place and —”
“You want to move in with me?” I ask. Where did that come from?
“Don’t you want to? We’re going to be so happy.”
I think about it. Would it make me happy to come home to Matt? To see Matt every day? Actually, that’s a great feeling. I always stress about how much he works, but he must go home sometime. If I lived with him, wouldn’t I reap the benefits of his going home?
“I would like that, actually. Why have you never mentioned this before?”
“I never really thought about it before.”
Ouch. “You never thought about our future before?” I ask, hoping he will say he absolutely has. Hoping he will correct my mistake, tell me he thinks about our future all the time.
“No, never really had a reason to before. But I do now.” He leans closer to my belly, even though it’s not any bigger than it was before he knew. It annoys me, but I don’t stop him. “I have a great reason now, don’t I baby?” he baby-talks to my belly.
At least you’ll have someone to baby now, I think. Then I catch myself being mean. I’m not being fair, he’s taking it really well. Focus on the positive. I notice myself smirking when he shuffles closer like he’s doing a performance for the baby. God, I really am a little weird. “I am glad you are so happy about this.”
“Why wouldn’t I be? Aren’t you?”
“I am excited, but I’m also very nervous. Aren’t you nervous? Babies are so much work.”
“Don’t worry, baby.” He sits back upright and pats my hand. “You can handle it.”
Deep down, I think I know he means something more like ‘you’ll be a great mother’ but it really feels like ‘you can do all the work so why would I be nervous’. I suppress a giggle at the thought — maybe it’s the nerves, maybe it’s the absurdity of thinking about doing this alone, but I can’t help it.
I grab my fork and resume eating, maybe stabbing my chicken a little too fiercely. I consider my options, only partially aware that beside me Matt is still blithering on about our future and when I should move in. I can suck it up, find a reason to be happy, count my blessings, and make this work with Matt. I can stand up, throw him out of my place, and raise this baby alone.
I refuse to consider options that do not contain this baby. Like it or not, this baby and I are in this together. I am suddenly terrified of being this baby’s only life-line. This baby and I, we need another anchor. I smile at Matt and bring myself to listen to his end of the conversation. I even nod when it’s appropriate because, really, what other choice do I have?
A small, rogue thought pops into my head: I wonder what Ben would do if he knew. I push it down immediately. Not the time. Not the place. But it makes me grin despite myself—tiny, hidden Liz, still lurking somewhere under the surface.