“That’s nice, Ian,” she said. “I’m glad to see you have such respect for the miracle of birth.”
“You really think you’re in the position to have a baby right now? You’re twenty-six. That’s pretty young.”
“It’s not that young. There are teenagers who have babies.”
“Yeah, sure, and they live at home with their parents, or they’re on welfare and live in subsidized housing. Is that what you’re telling me? You’re going to move back in with your parents? You’re going to go sign up for food stamps?”
“Of course not,” she said. “I was hoping that this news might make you a little more willing to explore the possibility of the two of us getting back together—”
“Hold the fuck up,” I interrupted. “We were never together. We hooked up and had a physical relationship. That was it. And when it became clear to me that you were after something more than that, I broke it off. I didn’t string you along like I could have. And now you want to call up and tell me this shit.”
She started to laugh. “Wait—are you saying that you deserve some sort of medal or something? Some man of the year award, because you ended things with me when they started to get real? Holy shit, Ian, you’re stupid.”
“Watch yourself,” I said.
“Well, you are if that’s what you think. Listen, Ian. I wasn’t planning to get pregnant. I’m pretty good about taking my pills every morning. I may have missed a day or two here and there, but this is the first time this has ever happened to me.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“I don’t know. I’m just telling you because I want you to know this wasn’t something I planned. But it’s happening, and I’m not going to get an abortion. I’m actually very pro-choice, but I just can’t do it.”
“You can, though. That’s what the service is there for. For unplanned pregnancies, especially when the mother is nowhere near ready to actually become a mother.”
“I am, though. And I was hoping you’d say that you wanted to step up and be a father, too. That we could do this together.”
I swear my blood pressure just shot up fifty points. “Listen, Annie,” I said. “This isn’t some fucking Lifetime movie where everything ends happily ever after. You don’t get to call up and announce this pregnancy and have me suddenly realize that I’ve been in love with you all along and that we should really be together. That’s not how it works. Or at least not in this case.”
“I wasn’t expecting that. It’d be nice, of course, but I wasn’t expecting it. No, what I was hoping, Ian, was that you would realize you were at least willing to give it a shot. I don’t think that’s asking too much, considering there’s going to be a whole new life entering the equation in nine months.” I cringed. “I was hoping that you’d realize that you could actually settle down and just be with one person, and that maybe you and I—and our child—could have a really nice life together. We already know we’re sexually compatible, and that’s a big part.”
Why had I answered the fucking phone? I stood up, so quickly that my chair almost toppled over.
“That is not going to happen,” I said. “And honestly, Annie, from the sounds of it, I’m starting to suspect that you got pregnant on purpose. That you conveniently forgot to take your pills, not just for a day or two, but probably more like a week or two. Or maybe a whole month.”
“That’s not true,” she said stiffly.
“Yeah, sure.”
The longer I had to think about it, the more I realized that that’s probably exactly what happened. I could picture her, standing in the bathroom, pushing the little pills out, dropping them, one by one, down the drain. Then having me fuck her six ways from Sunday. Women were always going on and on about how the world was sexist and they didn’t get a fair shake, but they had this power they could use whenever they wanted. They could be deceitful and manipulative and trap men by claiming to be on birth control when they weren’t. Fuck!
“Fine,” I said. “I obviously can’t make you have an abortion. But listen to me now and listen good—I am not getting together with you. Notice I didn’t say back together, because we would have had to be together in th
e first place. You and I are not going to have some happy little family. You can go ahead and have a kid if you want. Ruin your life. Have fun with that.”
“You’re such an asshole,” she said, and she sniffled, and she was probably crying. “This kid will be yours, too.”
“Yeah, well, I want a paternity test when it’s born. How the fuck do I know you weren’t out banging half of Boston?”
“I wasn’t. You were the only one I was with.”
“Go ahead and do what you want. I don’t even know why you called me to begin with when it’s clear that you’ve already made up your mind. I’m telling you, though, I don’t want to have a kid right now, and I certainly don’t want to have a kid with you. So if you want to go ahead and become a single mother, then by all means.”
“You don’t want anything to do with this baby? Really, Ian? Well, you’re at least going to have to pay child support. You’re right, I won’t be going on welfare or moving back with my parents—you’ll be paying child support, and don’t think for a second—”
I threw the phone across the room, where thankfully, it shattered, ending the call. I didn’t know how long I stood there for, trying to take deep breaths, waiting to wake up because surely this was just a horrible fucking nightmare, but after a few minutes, I realized that wasn’t going to happen. My phone was still smashed on the ground, the cereal I’d been eating was a soggy mess in milk. I’d been feeling so good that morning when I woke up, eager to get to work to see Daisy, and now suddenly that had all been completely obliterated.
God fucking dammit.
I was not in a good mood when I got into the office, and even Daisy’s smiling face didn’t do much to improve it.