Chapter 35 #2
“Mel had a brunch thing with her girlfriends, and I tagged along. This place does an amazing bread pudding, as good as M. Henry.”
“Doubt that, dude.” M. Henry did the best breakfast bread pudding in Chicago, and I was damned sure it could take all comers from Bean Town.
Sean scrunched up his eyebrows. “So, that doesn’t look like your place. Is everything okay?”
“Maybe I should call later. Let you get back to it.”
“No way. I hardly ever talk to you these days now that you’re back in Chicago.” He settled somewhere, maybe the corridor to the restrooms. “Is this about Mom?”
“No, she’s fine. We’re all fine.” I hadn’t really thought this through. “So, have you run into Franky?”
“Not yet. She’s been busy getting settled, and I think Rosie’s visiting this weekend.” He frowned. “Why?”
“Just wondered. You guys are good pals and all that.” Still frowning. When he got like that, he looked like Dad. “I have news. Franky’s pregnant.”
He blinked. Blinked some more. “She is? That’s great.”
I waited.
“Jason, why are you telling me this?”
I inhaled quickly and blew out a harried breath. “Because I’m the father.”
“No way! That’s wild! How did this happen?”
How about she was desperate enough to take me up on my offer? “After she asked you, we started talking about it. The whys, the why-the-fuck-not. I want a kid and she wants a kid and—”
“So you’re going to be involved in the baby’s life?”
“I know it sounds strange, but we have similar viewpoints when it comes to raising children.” We had similar viewpoints about a lot of things—the ick of domestic pets in costumes, cheese first always when building a taco, that Better Call Saul is superior to Breaking Bad. You know, the important stuff.
“I’m kind of stunned here, but happy for you. If this is what you want.”
Of course it was what I wanted. But his words confirmed my suspicion: people thought it was a strange way to go about things. I’d thought so, too, when Franky first suggested it.
“I do. But we’re keeping it under the radar for now, so not a word to Mom.” The “or Dad” coda was unnecessary. “I just figured you might see Franky soon and I’d rather she didn’t feel compelled to lie to one of her oldest friends.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.” Said as if it was the only thing about this situation that did. “I thought you guys despised each other.”
“‘Despised’ is a bit strong. More like a ‘healthy dislike,’ but that’s changed to a healthy respect that will center us as we co-parent our child.”
Sean snorted. “You read that in a book?”
“Maybe. Look, I know it’s hard to wrap your head around it, but I thought you should know. Plus, she asked you first, and I figured you might have … feelings about that.”
“Feelings?” He chuckled. “Oh, I have feelings alright. Confusion, bafflement, puzzlement.”
“Pretty sure they mean the same thing,” I gutted out. He was starting to piss me off.
“If you’re worried I might be, oh, jealous, then don’t be. Franky and I have never—well, there was that one time …”
“One time what?” It came out as a bark, and was soon followed by a red mist veiling my eyes. His next words were indecipherable, lost in the background noise of the restaurant.
“Listen, I have to go,” he said. “But seriously, J, I’m thrilled for you guys. And I’ll be seeing Franky soon, which will be great.” He spoke to someone off-camera. “Yeah, be right there.” And then he clicked off.
One time what?
One. Time. What?
My brother and Franky? I knew nothing about this, and suddenly I was thrown into a cauldron of black-biled jealousy.
They had a long history together, had things in common, were confidantes.
Not that it mattered. Sean had found his girl, and he and Franky were just friends.
If my brother had feelings for the doc, he would have jumped at her offer.
Right?
Bunsen had finished his meal and decided he needed someone to acknowledge this. He jumped up on the sofa beside me and hissed.
I knew exactly how he felt.
Now that I’d done my duty—cat feeds and the sharing of good tidings—I needed to go. I had morning skate in half an hour, and then lunch with Lauren to share the baby news. But maybe I should check in with the doc. Let her know the boys were fed and petted.
Bunsen sneered. Forget petted. Fed would have to do.
I took a photo of him and texted Franky with the caption: “I’m still hungry and this asshole thinks I’m cute.”
No response. I was weighing what that might mean when a text came in from Conor—or rather a photo of a pile of baby books.
On my living room table.
Next was a video clip of Duran Duran singing “Is There Something I Should Know?”
That little shit. I stabbed the call icon.
“Hi, Uncle Jason.”
“What are you doing in my house?”
“I have a couple of days before the Motors-Rebels game, so I came into town early. I wanted a little me time, so I stopped by yours. You gave me a key, remember?”
Me time? I was going to have to change my sheets, wasn’t I?
“You don’t text first?”
His chuckle was pure evil. “How else would I find out what the fam is up to? Care to explain?”
“Just holding them for a friend.”
“Oh, you need to do better than that.”
I blew out a breath. “We’re keeping it on the downlow. No announcements yet.”
“Like ‘secret meetings at a children’s birthday party’ downlow? Or ‘hooking up in a Detroit hotel’ downlow? Or maybe ‘dirty rendezvous in your niece’s bedroom at Halloween’ downlow?”
Fuck. All this time?
Franky had texted back.
He’s such a curmudgeon! I assume Beaker’s hiding.
“This is at a delicate stage,” I growled at my nephew.
“Jason Isner, did you knock up Francesca St. James?”
“Bye, Connie.” I clicked off and returned to the text thread with the doc.
Me
Yeah, he came out for food, though.
I told Sean the news.
Doc
Oh, wonderful! How did he take it?
Me
Good. Surprised. To be expected.
The three dots popped up, did their merry little dance, then disappeared. My phone rang instead, and something crashed behind me because that dummy Beaker got a fright.
I answered the video call. “Hey.”
“Hey there!” She looked a little flushed, which sent me into a mild panic.
“What’s going on? Have you been running?”
“No, just unpacking. I did most of it last week, but I had forgotten one suitcase, and I just brought it upstairs.”
For the duration of her stint in Boston, Franky had taken over a sublet in Cambridge from another professor who was currently in the original Cambridge, as in England. Apparently, professors were guest lecturing and subletting like there was no tomorrow.
“Isn’t Rosie there? She should be helping with that.”
“She went out for bagels.” She sat down on a bed. “Tell me about Sean.”
“Nothing to tell. He didn’t really get it, but then not many people will, I suppose.”
“I told Rosie and my family, and they got it. It’s not so out there, is it?”
Now I was projecting my insecurities onto her. Just because I expected people to respond with, that guy, a dad? And with that beautiful, intelligent woman? didn’t mean she felt the same way.
“No, not at all. It’s just weird telling people this personal thing.” I wasn’t even going to bring up the fact Conor was currently flipping through the baby books I’d left out for all and sundry to find.
“I suppose it is. But when it comes down to it, this is between us, Jason. We made this decision, this pact, if you will. We’re the ones who will be responsible for loving this child. For making sure she’s never hungry or scared or unhappy. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”
She was right. But that didn’t stop me thinking about Sean’s reaction and how that wide-eyed blink would be playing on repeat with everyone I told in the coming months. And it wasn’t much of a leap from that reaction to me drawing another conclusion.
She needed your sperm. That’s the only reason she’s even talking to you right now.
Because she certainly wouldn’t be, otherwise.