TUCKER
Ireceive a simple text from Joshua, but I can’t be bothered with responding.
‘OMW over.’
Great, now Joshua gets to hear firsthand about what a colossal waste of space I am.
I get up from my coach and open the curtains and windows to let the smell of weed out. The last thing I need is a lecture about how useless I am. I should also put on some actual clothes if my brother is coming round.
I text Josh after I spoke with Amber. I didn’t go into mad details cause I’m a dude and we aren’t wired like that. But I did say I was gutted, which for me is probably more than he was expecting.
I head upstairs and have a quick wash before throwing on the clean clothes I have left. It’s just a pair of blue denim jeans and a band t-shirt, but it’ll do.
I make myself some cereal and wolf it down before pulling out some chewing gum.
Two bars should hide the smell.
It takes Josh about 20 minutes to arrive, and when he does, I hear my overly screechy doorbell.
“It’s open,” I say. “I’m on the lounger.”
A few moments later Joshua arrives on the deck and slumps down onto the lounger opposite.
“I’m gonna grab us some beers,” I say, as I head back into the house then into the kitchen.
“This early?”
“Yes.”
I return with a cooler I’d loaded up earlier -- it’ll do the job -- and I sit back down on the lounger.
“So. How are you doing, Tuck?” Josh seems a little off, which is weird given I assumed he’d come over to check up on my failings in the love department.
“Swell.” I knew Josh could detect the sarcasm in my voice. We were always tight like that. “I poured my heart out to the perfect woman and still managed to fuck it up.”
Josh’s lack of a response isn’t what I expected. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t expecting him to fall at my feet crying about how awful it was, but he seems cold. Or if not cold, at least preoccupied.
“Errm. Bro, this is the part where you say something. Preferably something to make me feel better. Like there’s plenty more dirt in the pool or you’re buying me a new car.”
“Yeah, about that,” Josh finally says something.
“You are buying me a new car? Sweet, bro, that’s just what I wanted.”
“Huh? What are you on about? No, I am not buying you a car. Why would you think that?”
“Mostly because you’ve come over to my house all spaced out and not listened to a word-”
“Amber’s pregnant.”
I’m getting really tired of all the silence. I swear just a week ago, no one took gaps in between saying things. Everyone just rolled from one sentence to the next like they’re trying to get home for dinner.
I don’t understand what he's said. Amber’s pregnant.
I don’t get it. I know he doesn’t mean pregnant as in having a baby, because that would be mad.
We only had sex three times and used protection two of those times.
I know that it’s still possible to make a baby at that time, but the chances of getting pregnant are low enough anyway.
You hear about these 50-year-olds who’ve spent 30 years trying to get pregnant to no avail.
The chances of getting pregnant off of three bangs is way too low.
Like I say, I don’t get it. Unless this is a joke? Or some sort of plan to snap me out of it. Or he’s fucking with me?
“Sure, she is. What’s really the matter?
” I say, grabbing two cans from the cooler next to me and tossing one to Josh.
“You’ve come over here acting all weird for what?
You want my attention? You got it, man. I’ll listen to whatever’s up.
Oh shit,” suddenly it hits me. “Is it something with Caitlyn?”
We both open our cans and take a sip.
“No, it’s not Caitlyn. She told me. I mean, she spoke with Amber. Then she told me. And that’s why I’m here. Amber really is pregnant.”
Something about the quaky tone in his voice and the fact his hands won’t stop shaking tells me he’s not fucking around. Amber really is pregnant.
“Shiiiiiiiiit. Dude, that explains so much.” If I were a cartoon character, a giant light bulb would now be beaming above my head. “I saw her yesterday, at the dog shop.”
“Kennels.”
“Yeah, dog shop. She looked like she’d seen a ghost. I figured she was sick, and she said something about eating something bad. She must be having that thing where you’re sick in the morning.”
“Morning sickness?”
“Yeah, that. Oh man, that’s why.” A second cartoon light bulb appears above my head.
“That’s why what? I don’t follow?”
“That’s why she doesn’t wanna get serious with me. Or at least she doesn’t wanna even attempt a relationship with me. It’s not about me. It’s about her. Oh man, and I pursued her. I’m amazed she didn’t tell me to get lost with everything she’s been going through.”
Josh still looks super confused. I’m guessing he was amazed by how much of a grown-up I’m acting like. In fairness, I would probably be shocked if I heard Tucker Braddock thinking of someone else before his dick.
“You’re, errm, taking this rather well. I thought you’d be more, I don’t know. Cut up?”
“Of course, I’m cut up! The best woman in the world is pregnant and my chances just went from slim to non-existent. I am cut up, it’s just, I feel for her. It must have been hell for her.”
“How does this lower your chances? Surely if anything, this gives you a chance to fight?”
I take another sip. This cooler is shit and my beer’s too warm.
“I mean, I could try, but ain’t she gonna wanna get back with the dad at some point?”
Josh now only has one mode: Confused. Humor? Gone. Excitement? Nope. I’m guessing he must have had facial surgery because he’s just a constant statue of confusion.
“Tuck,” Josh says. “You’re the dad.”
At this moment, my whole world begins to spin. The words you’re the dad causes me to lose focus momentarily. That can’t be right. I feel like I’m looking down on myself from above. Oh, he must mean the other Tucker Braddock. Stupid me, maybe I’m the one suffering from confusion.
“Wha, what? Nah man, that can’t be right.
We only hooked up three times. She must have been pregnant before.
Yeah, that’s it. Unless you think she was trying to get with me so she could use my money?
Would she? No, that doesn’t seem like her.
Plus, there’s plenty of other more foolish rich dudes she could get with to be a baby daddy. ”
Josh leans forward on the lounger and puts his hand on my shoulder like he’s Ryan and about to say something dramatic.
“You’re. The father.”
If the world was spinning before, now it’s fallen off it hinges and is free sailing down the Grand Canyon.
“Well, nah, I mean, there can’t be, but it was just, dude, that isn’t possible. There’s no way it can be mine. I’m still young.”
“Tucker, listen. I know this is a lot to take in. Believe me, I’ve been where you are now. But Amber, and I’m sorry for how I phrase this, but I need you to understand this, she’s your Caitlyn. She isn’t making this up. She wouldn’t do that to her friends or to you.”
My stomach hits the bottom of the Grand Canyon. Fuckshitballscrap.
“I’m gonna be a … a dad. To my kid. My kid.”
“Bro, just breathe. It’s gonna be alright.”
There are too many thoughts in my head at once. It feels like an over-crowded auditorium at the end of show. Just constant noise with no real direction.
“Say something, Tucker.”
The next word out my mouth? “Fuck … I’m gonna be a dad.
Holy shit, how do I change diapers? Or that thing when you make them burp and they puke all over you?
Why do you even make babies puke all over you?
I don’t know any of this. How am I supposed to be a dad?
Dude, I smoked weed earlier. How am I supposed to do that, or surfing, or partying, when I’ve got a kid?
Fuck, how is Amber taking this? How’s she gonna service dogs with a kid?
Don’t dogs hate kids? Can you even have dogs if you have a kid?
What happens if the baby starts eating dog food?
Wouldn’t it choke? The hard food, not that mush stuff. Babies could probably eat that.”
“You good, bro?” Josh said with a smile forming.
“No! I’m far from good. I’m, I’m, I’m no good. I mean I’m bad. No, not bad, just…”
“Like you’re freefalling down a mountain without a parachute and you’re about to hit the bottom?”
“Well, I wouldn’t be a drama queen about it, but yeah. Something like that.”
Josh, only now, takes his hand off my shoulder.
“Tuck, listen to me. It’ll be fine. I’ve gotta learn all this stuff too. But once you’re over the utterly overwhelming shock of it all, you start to think a little clearer. Did you know babies aren’t born with the top of their skull fully formed?”
“NOT HELPING. What if I poke it by accident?”
Josh’s smile turns into a thunderous laugh. “You’ll be fine. I mean, we’re pretty much a whole family of dads when you think about it. We’ll all help. And hey, mine and Caitlyn’s baby will be able to play with yours and Amber’s.”
Mine and Amber’s. As in, mine and Amber’s baby. I thought fear was getting trapped beneath a wave, but this? This is real fear.
“I’m gonna be a dad. Dude, I’m gonna be a dad!”
“Cheers to that,” Josh says, and we clink cans.
I lean back in my chair. I still have too many thoughts, but the thoughts of fear are being phased out by thoughts of hope.
“I guess if Ryan and everyone can do it, so can I, right?”
“Yeah, of course you can, but you’re gonna have to-”
“Change. Yeah, I know. No more drugs. No more random hook ups. Fewer parties.” C’mon, I can’t get rid of parties altogether. Maybe I could throw baby parties. Where we sip on soda and talk about the best way to not drop them on their soft spot.
“I, we, I mean, we’re gonna make killer parents. We’ll be the cool young parents, with garish strollers that everyone rolls their eyes at.”
“Gold wheels?”
“Gold wheels, bay-bay! Me and Amber are gonna rock this shit.”
Me and Amber. The moment the words left my mouth I felt a pull in my gut.
“But we’re not together. We’re not a couple. Ah. Fear turns to hope turns to shit.”
“Huh?”
“Actually, you know what, bro? I’m done with this. I’m done feeling sorry for myself. Carp deems. I’m gonna be like that fish and seize the day.”
“It’s carpe -- actually, never mind. Good on you, Tuck. I’m proud of you.”
“Yeah, man, thanks. Look, I’mma be real with you for second, I am shit scared. Like, seriously. I don’t know how I haven’t puked on you. But this feels right. Me and Amber are gonna be great parents.”
“Yup. You know what you need to do though?”
“Talk to Amber. Properly. Sit down. And talk.”
“Got it in one. Hey, look at you, Mr. Grown Up, making smart decisions.”
“Hey Josh. Can I ask you something before you go?”
“Sure, anything. I’m always here if you need advice. Day or night, just ask.”
“Cool. Thanks. So, is it true about their boobs getting bigger or…?”