Chapter 1 #2
“We just kinda stopped reaching out after a while. He’d just broken up with his ex too. I think it was just a first try for both of us—you know, getting back out there again. Neither of us were looking for anything serious. It was just … fun.”
“But don’t you think he deserves to know?”
I let loose a groan. “It’s going to be weird. What if he thinks I … want to be together? Or what if he thinks we should be together? I don’t know if that’s what I want. I barely know him.”
“Well, maybe it’s not what he wants, either. But I think it’s the right thing to do. Plus, he can help support you and the baby.”
I sighed, trying not to let myself latch on to the idea. My father had never cared to support the child he’d left behind. Would Max?
“I guess you’re right. I guess I should give him a call.”
Jesus Christ. Way to go, Savannah.
“I’ll have a—dammit.”
“Excuse me?” the barista asked.
“Sorry … I just remembered something. I’ll have a decaf coffee, please.”
Probably for the best anyway. I was so nervous, caffeine would have made me even more jittery.
As I waited for my drink, I reached into my purse for the ultrasound printout my doctor had given me a few days before. It was thin and narrow and curled at the edges, like a grocery store receipt. Floating in a black and white sea was a tiny, blurry blob shaped like a lima bean.
It was the first picture of my baby—my baby with Max. A guy I met in a bar a couple of months ago.
As the barista handed me my drink, I turned around and spotted him walking into the coffee shop. I shoved the printout back into my purse, my heart pounding in my chest. How was he going to take this?
He looked good; his dark brown hair was still damp from the shower. He was dressed casually in a hoodie, jeans, and sneakers, his hands in his pockets. There was a light layer of stubble on his cheeks, which I liked.
The night we met had been my first night alone in my new apartment.
I’d felt out of place, restless. It had been years since I’d spent a night alone, having lived for more than three years with Jason, and then the last nine or ten months at my mom’s after he’d left.
The quiet in my apartment was suffocating.
I’d called Ellie, hoping she’d want to come over or meet me at the pub down the street, but she was filling in for a coworker at the upscale bistro where she tends bar.
After about fifteen minutes or so of sitting on my brand-new IKEA couch, staring at the ceiling, I’d put on my coat, grabbed my purse, and headed to Ellie’s bistro.
I sat at the bar for a while, chatting with Ellie whenever she had a moment in between customers. I downed a glass of red wine and ate a plate of the night’s special that she snagged from the kitchen for me.
By the time I’d finished eating, the bistro had gotten more crowded.
As I settled into a second glass of red, a handsome guy in jeans and a brightly colored band T-shirt pressed in between me and the guy sitting on the stool to my left, trying to get Ellie’s attention to order a drink.
He’d looked down at me with striking hazel eyes and an alluring, lopsided grin, and mumbled an apology.
I felt my face flush with warmth as I realized, for the first time in years, I was actually finding a man other than Jason attractive.
The feeling felt odd and unfamiliar, but also kind of nice.
When the man on the stool next to me tossed a few bills onto the bar and left, the handsome stranger swooped right in to take the seat. I was surprised when he turned to me and introduced himself: Max Hunter.
Two bottles of Malbec and an hour and a half of conversation later, and I was being walked home by the sexy and funny Max. I invited him in, under the guise of showing off my brand-new apartment I was so proud of. We barely made it inside before his lips were on mine.
It was strange, waking up next to another warm body, after a year of sleeping alone. But when I opened my eyes the next morning, there he was.
“I had a nice time last night,” he said, brushing a stray brown lock out of my eyes as he gazed into them. “It felt really good to talk to someone.”
I remembered him talking about a recent breakup, and me sharing a bit about my own. “Me too. Thanks again for walking me home.” I smiled shyly at all that “walking me home” had ultimately entailed.
We exchanged numbers but made no promises to call or meet again, which I later decided was a good thing.
That would have felt like too much pressure for me at the time, and though my pulse quickened every time I remembered how it felt to have his body pressed against mine, his warm breath next to my ear as he nibbled on my neck while his hands explored me, I hadn’t decided exactly what I thought of him just yet.
I wasn’t even sure I was ready to date again.
The following week, we ran into each other at the bistro again.
I remember being a little flattered, like maybe he’d gone there on purpose, since I’d told him I went there often to visit Ellie.
He said he was there meeting some buddies from the office, but I liked the idea that maybe it was more than that.
We spent the night together again, at my apartment.
We saw each other a couple more times after that, but the mood was different.
I think we both enjoyed each other’s company—and the amazing sex, of course—but were hesitant to keep going in case the other started to take it too seriously.
After a while, we were calling and texting each other less and less. I didn’t see him at the bistro again.
I let it go, since I didn’t have the energy or emotional capacity to pursue it when, deep down, I knew I would only be doing it out of loneliness, and not any kind of real connection.
Now, six weeks later, here he was, walking toward me again. I wondered what he was thinking, about the way I’d texted him out of the blue. As he got closer, I felt a tiny moment of panic. Should we hug? Are we friends?
“Hey, Savannah. It’s good to see you.” He stopped about a foot away from me, took one hand out of a pocket, and raked it through his hair.
“You too.” I smiled shyly. “Do you want to order something?”
“Yeah.” He walked up to the barista and ordered a dark roast.
I stood awkwardly next to him as he waited for his coffee. I could have found us a table, but suddenly the coffee shop felt very claustrophobic, and all the people in it felt too close. I didn’t want their prying eyes and ears privy to what I was about to unload on Max.
As he turned around with his coffee, I said, “It’s a nice morning … want to go for a walk?”
“Sure.”
I avoided his eyes, took a sip of my coffee, and headed for the door. My body buzzed with nervous energy as I took off down the street too quickly, forcing Max to quicken his step to keep up with me.
“So … how have you been?” he asked.
“Good,” I said with fake brightness, thankful that walking meant we didn’t have to make eye contact. “Busy … work is going well … you?” Oh, God. How in the world am I supposed to bring up something like this?
“Yeah, it’s been a busy week.” Max was an insurance agent at a firm in the city. “I signed three new clients, so, you know, there’s all the paperwork that goes along with that and—”
“Max, I have to tell you something,” I burst out. I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and looked at him.
He stared at me with a blank face. I stared back, paralyzed by the realization that the next words out of my mouth would dramatically change his life.
Or would they? Maybe he’d want nothing to do with our child. Either way, his life would never be the same.
A frown started to spread across his face, the longer I stalled. “What is it?”
I bit my tongue. I had to blurt it out, before I lost my nerve. “I’m pregnant.”
Max’s face changed in a kind of slow motion.
First, his eyes widened. I could almost hear the gears grind and click in his head as he put the pieces together.
Then all the blood drained out of his face, leaving him pale with a greenish tinge.
He almost dropped his coffee before his other hand flew up to catch it. “What?” he asked quietly.
“I’m pregnant,” I repeated matter-of-factly. I’d already spent so much emotion on this news, it seemed I had none left at the moment.
His eyes widened further. “What?”
“I know … it’s a lot. I’m sorry,” I said, then inwardly chastised myself. What did I have to apologize for?
His free hand started raking through his hair again, more forcefully this time. We were blocking the sidewalk, so I took his elbow and guided him a few steps away to a sidewalk bench. We both sat down.
“But … what … how … when …?” He alternated between looking up at me, looking down at his feet, and pawing at his hair so much it eventually stood straight up.
“Well, I’m just as surprised as you are about the ‘how,’ you know, since we used protection.” I whispered that last word, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
An image popped into my head from that first night we were together—Max letting go of me for just a second to say, “Don’t worry, I have something.” I remembered my chest heaving with anticipation as I watched him pull a condom out of his wallet, unbutton his jeans, and put it on.
“And it’s not too hard to figure out the ‘when,’ ” I continued. “We were only together a few times in January and February, and according to the doctor, that’s about how far along I am.”
His head snapped up. “You’ve been to the doctor?”
“Yeah. It felt so … unbelievable. I wanted to be sure before I said anything.”
We stared at each other for a moment before I remembered what I had in my purse. “Anyway … the doctor says I’m due in early November.” I pulled out the ultrasound picture and handed it to him.
It took only a second for Max’s expression to shift. “Oh my God,” he said with awe. He put his coffee cup down on the bench next to him and covered his mouth with his hand. “Oh my God.” He traced the small, bean-shaped blob with his finger.
I gave him a moment to stare at it and let the reality of what was happening sink in. Then I took a deep breath. “Listen, Max—I know this is a lot. It is for me too—I still feel like it can’t be real. But I want you to know—”
“I just got back together with my ex,” he blurted out.
Whoa … what?
“Oh,” I said, the pitch of my voice suddenly higher. I coughed. “The one you said you broke up with right before we met?”
“Yeah—Madison. We started talking again, after the last time I saw you. We’re … giving things another try.” He looked down at the ground.
“Well … that’s great, Max. Listen—this doesn’t mean that has to change.”
He shot me a defeated look. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, that’s totally fine. You can choose how much you want to be involved with the baby. You can be with Madison.”
Max stood up and started pacing back and forth in front of the bench. “What am I going to tell her? She can get … pretty jealous. Things are going so well right now; this is going to freak her out.”
Panic simmered beneath my skin. “I’m sorry for the bad timing. It’s not like I wanted this to happen.”
Ugh. It was all so ironic. If Jason and I had stuck to our three-year plan, I could have been sharing this moment with him—and I would feel much more excited about it.
Max stopped pacing directly in front of me. “I’m sorry. This isn’t your fault—at least, not any more than mine. I don’t know … I guess the condom failed.” He sat back down and turned to face me. “I haven’t even asked—how are you feeling? Did the doctor say everything is going okay so far?”
I exhaled. It was nice of him to ask. “So far I feel fine.”
“I’m glad.” He looked back down at his feet. “So … I guess … it sounds like … you want to have the baby?” He met my eyes again.
My knee-jerk reaction was shock, but I guess it made sense that he would ask me that. It was an unplanned pregnancy with a man I barely knew, who had already moved on with another woman. A woman he had history with.
But in that moment, I realized I had never even considered not having the baby, as much as it had caught me by surprise.
The circumstances were less than ideal, but I was trying hard to look at it the way my mom and Ellie were—like a gift.
A lovely surprise. After all, I was rapidly approaching my midthirties—what if this was my one and only chance to be a mother?
“Yes, I do.” I held his gaze, feeling confident for the first time since taking a pregnancy test in that grocery-store bathroom a week before.
He took a slow, deep breath, then put his hand on my leg. It felt nice. Steadying. “Okay—then I’m here. I’ll do whatever I can. I’ll be a father.”
I smiled, not quite believing the words coming out of his mouth. Then I gave a small laugh. “Oh my God.”
“Oh my God is right,” he echoed with a laugh of his own.
We sat in stunned silence for a moment. “So … you’re going to tell her?” I asked.
“Yeah … I can’t hide something this huge from her.” Max took another deep breath and looked at me. “Listen, what do you need from me? Are there, I don’t know, any doctor appointments you want me to go to with you? Or …?”
“No, I’m okay for now, thanks. My next doctor’s appointment isn’t for another month or so.”
“You have health insurance?”
“Yeah, through work. And I have my mom to help too.”
“Good.” Max stood up and put his hands in his pockets. “Well, keep me posted. And again—let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“I will.”
We stood looking at each other for a moment, then he bent toward me and pulled me in for a hug. I was caught by surprise but didn’t fight it. “Everything’s going to be great,” he reassured me. Then he turned and walked away.
I noticed he’d left his cup of coffee on the bench.
I reached for it and turned around to wave at him, but he was pretty far down the sidewalk, with his phone to his ear.
He turned to cross the street, and I caught a clear glimpse of his profile.
The worry and panic I’d seen on his face just minutes ago were gone. In its place: a wide smile.