“Exactly,” I reply with a groan. “And if Dr. Dick doesn’t call and I have to raise this baby on my own, she’s going to have lots of feelings.”
Dean turns to face me, his jaw taut as he says, “I think you should stay with me, Lynsey.”
I roll my eyes and nudge him with my shoulder. “No way.”
He tilts my chin up so I’m looking at him. “I’m not kidding. You’re not ready to face your parents with this news, and Dr. Dick is a fucking asshole, which means you need someone to be there for you, now more than ever.”
“You’re insane.” I shake my head at the severe look in his eyes.
“No, I’m not,” Dean snaps and pins me with a glower. “I love you, Lyns. You’re my best friend, and I can help you through this.”
“Dean, you do not want me moving in with you,” I exclaim with an incredulous laugh. “I’m knocked up!”
“You’re pregnant, not diseased,” he retorts, his eyes challenging. “I can handle this.”
A manic laugh bubbles up my throat. “Dean, what do you even know about pregnancy?”
“Not much but I’ve proven to be good at self-educating.” He shrugs like we’re having the most casual conversation in the world. “I could even go to those panting classes with you if you want.”
“You mean Lamaze?” I laugh. “Dean, you don’t want all this”—I point at my belly—“invading your mancave. What’re you going to tell the parade of women marching in and out of your place?”
Dean smiles. “I’ll tell them, behold…your future.”
“Exactly. They’ll get one look at me and run for the door.”
Dean rolls his eyes. “I’m not worried, Lynsey.”
“You should be,” I state accusingly. “I’m emotional, my boobs hurt, and I haven’t shit in a week.”
“Now, that’s hot.” Dean gives me a flirtatious smirk.
I shove him. “I’m serious. I’ve been a wreck for the past couple of months, and now I find out it’s because I have a tiny human growing inside me. It’s only going to get worse.”
“You don’t have any better options!” His face grows serious. “Your mom will make you go to Mass every Sunday and force you to eat nothing but produce from her creepy basement hydroponic plants.”
I laugh, and then I cry because he’s right.
He wraps his arm around me. “I’ll buy you Oreos and rub your feet when they get all cankly. That’s a pregnancy thing, right?”
“Hell if I know,” I groan, holding up my bare feet just waiting for them to betray me. “I only recently learned that I can’t eat cold lunch meat anymore.”
“No lunch meat?” Dean asks curiously.
“There’s some weird enzyme in it. I can only eat it if I microwave it till it steams.”
“Gross.”
“You’re telling me,” I reply with a huff. “But seriously, I’ll be fine with my parents. Once I get the nerve to tell them, they’ll be…fine.”
“And you’ll be miserable.” Dean drops a kiss to my hair. “Crash in my spare room as long as you like. You don’t need them riding your ass about your lack of employment and weird baby daddy situation.”
My shoulders shake with a pathetic laugh. If there even is a baby daddy in the picture.
Dean chucks my chin. “I’m not telling you I’m your forever, Lyns. But I’m telling you I’m happy to be here for you as long as you need me.”
I stare at my friend incredulously. Who knew the mountain manwhore had a heart of gold buried deep inside him?
He smiles and squeezes me into his side. “Just remember when you’re at your parents tonight and your mom is asking why you can’t be more like Christine, you and I could be reading baby books and watching Nanny 911.”
I huff a laugh and search Dean’s face for any glimpse of anxiety or stress or worry. But it doesn’t seem to be there. There’s only one of my dearest friends trying to give me whatever I need.
I pace my empty living room, replaying that night Lynsey came here for the nineteen hundredth time. That night we slept together and I put that shitty condom on. That night I fucked her with abandon.
This is what I get for letting go of control.
When I relax, bad things happen. When I let myself feel and be emotionally involved, everything goes horribly wrong.
And now there’s a baby coming. My baby. Lynsey’s baby. A child. A child I never wanted. A child that, with my history, I swore I’d never have. But here we are. Now I will have to live with this new reality and worry about this baby getting sick or getting hurt for the rest of my life.
I push away the pain in my chest over that thought and focus on the task at hand. I can’t get wrapped up in the baby. Not yet. I can’t even get wrapped up in how completely altered my life is because of this one mistake.
Right now, I just need to take care of Lynsey. She’s in this position because of me, and she’s my immediate responsibility. Yes, she gave me the shitty condom, but I was the one who put it on. It could have had a hole or been expired. That was my responsibility so I have to make this right. I have to do everything I can to take care of her and this baby.
I hold my phone up and prepare to text Lynsey. Fucking hell, it’s been forty-eight hours, and my hands still tremble every time I pull her name up in my contacts. Goddammit, I’m a doctor. My hands should be as steady as a rock even in the most dire of circumstances.
But it’s different when it’s personal. I learned that mistake years ago—a mistake that haunts me to this day.
I steel myself to text her at last.
Me: Can you meet with me tomorrow around 2:00? We have a lot to discuss.
Lynsey: Okay…where? I’m sorta getting ready to move in with my parents right now.
Me: You can come here. Do you remember the address?
Lynsey: I remember.
Me: See you tomorrow.
I lower my phone and pinch the bridge of my nose, the weight of this situation pressing in on me like a vise.
I can do this. I can take care of her. I can’t turn back the clock, but I can at least watch out for this woman. And if I guard myself appropriately, then it will be nothing like last time. I can do this.
The next day, I pull up outside of Josh’s house, almost overwhelmed with anxiety as it rolls through me, so much that it makes me nauseated. Or maybe that’s the baby?
I have no clue honestly. My emotions are fried as of late.
Last night at my parents’ house went almost exactly how Dean described it. My mother berated me for not having a man in my life while my father grunted that I was being too picky in my job hunt, and if I would just settle for something clerical, life would be a lot easier for everyone.
One would think my parents would respect my passion to open a clinic devoted to helping children, but they just see it as a roadblock to finding a husband and gainful employment. A part of me wonders if they won’t jump for joy when they find out I’m pregnant because at least then I’m contributing to society in a way they find meaningful.