Chapter 6
CHAPTER
SIX
Mindy
I’m feeling a bit discouraged right now and I’m not sure what to do next. My first appointment for the obstetrician is scheduled for next week, which I’m kind of excited about, but it’s what my internet searches have revealed that makes me queasy.
“What am I gonna do?” I murmur to myself as I read yet another online forum about fathers’ rights even in the case of rape. “Because that bastard is not going to be part of my baby’s life. Nope, nuh-uh, not fucking happening.”
The question is, what kind of attorney should I find?
I already have an emergency protective order thanks to the detectives handling my case.
But they’re unaware that I’m pregnant, and unfortunately for me, by the time my case goes to trial, I’ll likely be as big as a house.
I hear a noise on the front porch and quickly open my front door, grateful that I opted for a change of scenery and am working in my living room today.
Normally, I sit in my office, which is actually the second bedroom that I converted into my work space. Seeing Cruz juggling a bunch of bags, I clear my throat and when he turns around, I ask, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
If the surprise on his face is any indication, I’ve managed to shock him. “Yeah, sure, come on in,” he says, motioning to the open door. I precede him inside and sit on his couch while he drops the bags on his kitchen table. “Do you want anything to drink?” he asks.
“No, I’m good. I… uh, I’m not really sure how to ask this, so I’ll just blurt it out, okay?”
“Go for it, Mindy,” he advises.
“Okay, so that night, while you were getting my clothes, the nurse gave me one of those Plan B pills since he didn’t use any protection,” I say.
At his nod, I continue. “Anyhow, about a week ago, after I had been sick on and off for a few weeks, I took… I took an at-home pregnancy test. It was positive, Cruz.” My voice is now barely above a whisper as I wring my hands.
“I don’t believe in abortion per se. I mean, I know there are circumstances where they’re necessary, but I’m healthy and capable of raising a baby on my own.
The thing is, from everything I’ve seen online, he would have rights as the biological father.
I can’t handle that, Cruz. There’s no way I could live with seeing him every other weekend or whatever he would have as far as visitation goes.
If the pill didn’t work, there’s a reason it didn’t work, right?
So, what do you suggest I do to prevent him from having any access to my baby? ”
By now, he’s next to me on the couch and he has my hands engulfed in his own.
Instead of freaking out at the fact that he’s touching me, I find myself leaning closer.
He represents safety and security to me, and because he still treats me the way he always did before that night, I trust him and his opinion. Guess he broke into my small circle.
“Jolie’s husband, Dex, found an attorney who’s looking into my case. Would you like me to call her?” he asks. “She might have some ideas, after all.”
“If you think she can help, then absolutely,” I reply.
I sit there while he makes the call, lost in my own thoughts when he says, “Okay, we’ll be there soon.”
“What?” I question when he stands up, pulling me up as well.
“She wants to meet with us in about thirty minutes,” he says.
“Shit, I can’t go there looking like a homeless person!” I shriek. “Give me five minutes to get changed.” I rush out of his place and back into mine, my mind furiously racing.
Thank goodness since the night he brushed my hair I’ve gotten my hygiene back in line.
My hair is already brushed and put up for the day, but I am not going out of the house in sweats and one of Brock’s old graphic T-shirts.
In a few short minutes, I have a pair of jeans and a cute blouse on, and I’m swiping a little bit of makeup on my face since I still look so damn pale.
Morning sickness, my ass. I’m sick at all hours of the day, and ginger ale, as well as ginger chews, have become my best friends, they’re the only thing that somewhat settle my churning belly.
I’ve eaten so many boxes of saltines at this point that my recycling bin is overflowing with them as well as the empty bottles of caffeine free soda.
“Well, this is as good as it’s gonna get,” I mutter as I walk back through my place, grabbing my keys and purse along the way. I make sure my door is locked and turn only to stop in my tracks to see Cruz, casually sitting on our porch railing.
“Damn, if that’s what you’re able to accomplish in a few short minutes, I might have a stroke if you have hours to get ready,” he teases, jumping to his feet and holding out his hand.
I don’t even question what I’m doing as my fingers slide into his warm grip.
He leads me over to his truck and helps me inside, before he shuts the door and rounds the front of the truck, sliding into the driver’s seat.
I’m quiet as he starts his vehicle and puts it into reverse before he heads toward town, but my nervousness gets the best of me and I start wringing my hands once again.
The warmth of his hand covers mine and with very little prompting, I find my fingers laced with his as we head to his attorney’s office.
“This would be so much easier if you were married or had a boyfriend already who’s willing to step in and share vows with you,” Ms. Butler murmurs as she looks down at the notes she took.
“We can make that happen,” Cruz says, shocking me into silence.
“What do you mean?” I whisper.
“Well, unless you’ve got an aversion to being hitched to an ex-con, and I can understand if you do, I am willing to be your baby’s daddy, Mindy,” he says.
“Why? I don’t understand, Cruz,” I reply, focusing on him as I forget we’ve got a captive audience.
“Honestly? Because I’ve been interested in and intrigued by you since the day you moved in, Mindy. I never asked you out before since I wasn’t sure how you’d feel dating someone who went to prison.”
“Falsely, from what you and Ms. Butler have talked about,” I interject.
“True, true, but until Dex called her firm, I didn’t know how to proceed about getting my conviction overturned,” he says. “So, if we got married, my name would be on the baby’s birth certificate. That asshole… sorry, ladies, but he is, wouldn’t have any recourse at all.”
“Unless he asked for a DNA sample,” I retort.
“But why would he do that? As far as he’d be aware, not that I personally care about his thoughts and feelings, we started seeing each other after that night,” he rebuts.
“And while we don’t know when your court date will be on the docket, you’ll either be heavily pregnant, wearing wedding rings, or you’ll have had the baby and again, be wearing wedding rings. ”
“It could work,” Ms. Butler says, jerking me back into awareness that we’re not alone, she’s heard everything, and she thinks it’s a good idea.
“And as for your concern regarding him asking for a DNA sample, he has no reason to do so and no judge would require that since you’d be legally married.
Cruz’s name on the birth certificate would supersede any claims Clark would have.
Not only that, but he’d be admitting what he did, and while I’m not his legal counsel, there’s no way his attorney should allow him to do that. ”
I shudder when I think of that man and his actions that night.
The fact that he’s out on bail scares me half to death.
I may have a protective order against him, but I watch way too many crime documentaries and listen to podcasts as well and know they’re usually ineffective.
Nothing more than a piece of paper, a twig from a tree.
I have my reservations about this hoax of a marriage, however, because while I’m okay with Cruz’s touch to a point, I don’t know if I can be intimate with him or any man anytime soon.
Would that be fair to ask that of him? Or would our marriage be like Jolie and Dex’s was before they realized how much they loved each other?
Before I can respond to her comment, Cruz leans in and whispers, “I know you’ve got doubts and we can discuss those later, but it’s a good plan, Mindy, and it’ll protect the baby who is gonna be born against all odds.”
“I need to call Jolie and tell her,” I say. “Then I need to tell Brock and my parents. Should I tell him the truth or sell the lie that you’re the father?”
“Things done in the dark always come to light, Mindy,” he replies as we head into town toward the diner. “I think you need to tell him what happened, but maybe make sure Dex is around since he’s his best friend and can hopefully keep him in line so he doesn’t do anything stupid.”
“This is gonna kill him,” I tell him. “He and Dex worked so hard to teach me and Jolie how to keep ourselves safe when we started dating. They may be older than us, but they taught us all they knew as far as fighting dirty, then Brock paid for self-defense courses for me. He’s going to think he failed me.
” Tears are welling in my eyes at the perceived reaction I anticipate from Brock.
“Plus, what about you? I mean, we barely know each other, Cruz, yet you’re willing to saddle yourself with a hormonal, pregnant woman who’s having a baby that’s not biologically yours. ”
He clears his throat and glances in my direction.
“Mindy, I wasn’t lying when I said I was into you, I just wasn’t sure how you’d take it when you found out my status as an ex-con and parolee.
However, it seems you're not worried about that, you’re concerned about something that doesn’t really matter at the end of the day. ”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“My sisters and I were all adopted by our parents,” I admit.
“Mom couldn’t have kids and wanted them so much that she and my dad became foster parents.
They took the three of us in so we could stay together, and ended up adopting all of us.
I don’t think of them as anything other than my parents, plain and simple.
Family isn’t always about who shares your blood, sweetheart, it’s about who comes into your life and decides to stay.
And for the record, I’m staying. I know you’re worried about the physical side of things and I’m gonna tell you this, as long as it takes, that’s how long I’ll wait, okay? ”
“But what if I can never—” she starts to say before I cut her off.
“Then I’ll be sure to alternate hands so one arm isn’t noticeably larger than the other,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood. “Because at the end of the day, what does or doesn’t happen in the privacy of our home is nobody else’s business but ours, plain and simple.”
“I’ve got an appointment with a therapist next week,” I admit. “I was going to do it via a video chat, but Jolie convinced me that I need to start living again. Yes, what he did was horrible and vile, but by holing up in my house, I’m still allowing him to have power over me.”
“Do you want me to go with you?” he asks. “I don’t have to go inside, of course, but I can sit in the waiting room until you’re done.”
“I… I think I’d like that,” I reply. “Now, who are we calling first about this faux marriage of ours?”
“I think your parents and brother, then Jolie and Dex, because the sooner we get it done, the better. Especially since sometimes, babies come early, you know what I mean?”
Squeezing his hand in mine, I whisper, “Thank you. You’re saving me once again, Cruz, and if it takes me the rest of my life, I’ll find a way to show you just how much I appreciate it.”