Never Have A Baller's Baby

“Hey… it’s Scott. I just… I wanted to call you to see if you would consider talking with me about the baby.” His voice was quiet and serious.

She felt a dim ray of hope glow in her heart. “What do you want to talk about?” she asked cautiously.

“Well, if you could come over, I think we should sit down and figure everything out. Obviously I want to be a part of the baby’s life and of yours, and I want to help in any way that I can. This is my responsibility as well. There’s a lot to talk about. What do you think? Would you please come over to talk with me about it?” He sounded sincere, and she did want to share the responsibility with him.

“All right. I’ll come over this afternoon,” she agreed. “But we’re just going to talk, and that’s it. Nothing else. Okay?” She wanted to be very clear on that point. She regretted making love with him the last two times they had fallen into one another’s arms.

“I understand. I’ll see you this afternoon,” he said quietly. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

She bade him goodbye and hung up, wondering how their talk would change things for the future of their child, and for them. She was relieved that he was willing to discuss it. That move at least showed some forward momentum from him, which was an improvement from where he had left it when she had initially told him that she was pregnant.

A couple of hours later, she drove to his house in the hills and rang his doorbell. She had nearly finished with his house, and she planned on giving him back his keys within the week. Though it was only his screen door that was closed, and not his front door, she remained outside. Nothing had changed between them to the point that she could just walk right into his home, not even the fact that sh

e was pregnant with his child.

He answered quickly, and invited her in, leaving the front door open as it had been. “Come in.” He tried to reach for her to hug her and she turned away from him. His arms fell to his sides, and he sighed and walked her out onto the back patio by his swimming pool. They sat in chairs at the covered table there, and he offered her iced lemonade.

Taking the cold glass in her hand, she sipped from it and looked up at Scott. “So what is it that you want to talk about?”

“Well, the baby of course, and you and me, and our future.” He sounded uncertain as he took his seat and looked at her with his hands folded in front of him.

“So, have you decided that you are willing to go public with me and with your baby? That’s my biggest problem right now, Scott. You just seem bent on keeping us hidden away from the world, and I’ll be honest with you, it feels like you’re ashamed of us. That’s not okay, and that will have to change before either one of us comes back into your life again.” She was speaking with a kind voice, but with a determined sense of self.

He lifted his hand to his face and rubbed his fingertips over his forehead. “I already told you that it’s just not that simple. I want to be a part of your life, and the baby’s, but—”

She stopped him and raised her voice. “But your career comes first. Your public image comes first. I know. You told me a few times. I get it. Being your lover doesn’t qualify me to be in your public life, and being the pregnant mother of your baby doesn’t change that either! You’re just as ashamed of this baby growing in me as you are of anyone finding out that we’re lovers!”

She pushed herself up from her seat, setting the cold glass of lemonade back down on the tabletop firmly.

“Have I come at a bad time?” she heard an older male voice ask. She turned around and saw a short, fat, squatty man standing near the doorway to the house. He was wearing a terrible suit and an old beat up fedora.

Scott groaned. “Hey Harold,” he said morosely.

Harold indicated the door behind him. “Door was open. Don’t mind, do you?” He took his time walking over toward the table, and all the while his eyes were on Naomi.

“I’m Harold. I’m Scott’s agent,” he said, extending his hand to her. She took it and introduced herself grudgingly. She realized that she was looking at the man who singlehandedly influenced Scott in making the public believe that he and Jennifer Jones were a couple. Her belly tightened.

“I’m Naomi,” she said quietly.

“You’re Naomi.” He nodded, and he looked at her seriously as he pushed a half-smoked cigar into his mouth. “…and you’re here to tell Scotty that you’re pregnant with his kid. Did I hear that right?”

She lifted her chin defiantly. She definitely didn’t like him. “I am pregnant with his baby, yes. That’s his business and mine.”

Harold eyed her carefully and rolled the old cigar around in his mouth before he replied with a muffled, “Uh-huh.” He turned then, and faced Scott.

“So you got another chick knocked up. That’s two, Scotty! What in the hell are you doing? What are you trying to do to me, huh kid? I work my ass off to make sure that you’re a star, and to make sure that all of the public adores you, and that all of the sponsors want you, and what do you do?

You go around and you keep poking your willy into places it shouldn’t be, and now you got two chicks saying you’re gonna be a daddy to their kid. What in the hell am I going to do with you?” He lowered his eyebrows so far that his beady black eyes almost disappeared.

Scott’s eyes widened. “Harold,” he said in a warning voice, “we can talk about this later? This isn’t something that we should go over right now, okay?”

Naomi turned and stared at Scott. “Two women? What’s he talking about? What does he mean by saying that you got two women pregnant?” Everything in her had come to an abrupt halt.

Scott sank low in his chair and covered his eyes with one hand. “Great. Thanks, Harold. That’s just great.”

“Scott!” Naomi shouted at him angrily. “What in the hell is he talking about?”

Harold turned from him to face her. “What? He didn’t tell you? He didn’t tell you that he knocked up some other broad? Yeah. She’s pregnant too… you’re both having somebody’s kid, but I’ll be honest, I don’t know for sure that either one of you is really having Scotty’s baby, or if you’re just making up stories for the fame and fortune you want to get.” He narrowed his gaze at her suspiciously.