Fat Cat Liar

“As far as I can tell, it happened in Connecticut. If I’ve done my math right, almost eight weeks.”

Both of them roll their eyes, because if there is anything I never mess up with it’s mathematical sequences.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Denial, embarrassment, shame.” My voice cracks at the confession.

“Embarrassment? Shame? What in the hell?” Jenny scoffs.

“It’s hard to admit that I got knocked up by a Fat Cat Liar that used me for a business deal.” I cringe at the truth. “Imagine the mortification once word gets out.”

“I’m a doctor, Greer. I can help you. We can discuss options.” Her voice is flat, and I know how much it hurts her to even think of ‘options’.

“There’s no need to discuss anything. I’ve made up my mind. I have an appointment tomorrow to confirm. Again. As long as this is a healthy pregnancy, I’m having the baby,” I announce with such certainty a little flutter swarms in my stomach. This is the first time I’ve spoken my decision out loud.

They exchange a look then focus back on me with a sense of pure amazement.

“We’re going to have a baby in the mix?” Jenny’s lips start to quiver.

I nod.

Both of them swarm me, squealing until my ears ring. The mood in the room takes on a new energy that sends a little spark of excitement through me. It’s incredible how my emotions can swing so quickly.

Haley comes in, taking in the scene, and her eyes land on where Bessie’s hand is on my lower stomach. Her jaw drops open as realization hits, and she hesitantly steps in closer.

“Are you?” She stops herself, biting her lip in case she’s mistaken.

I nod again, this time with a smile.

She joins the circle, throwing her arms around us and giving me her own praise.

I let myself enjoy the moment, not allowing myself to think about the next steps.

•8•8•

“You’re sure this is what you want?”

“Absolutely.” I answer Dad’s question, staring at the printout of sonogram pictures in my hand.

“It’s a frozen tundra up there right now, Greer.”

“That’s fine with me.”

There’s a hesitation on the line, so I peek to make sure we didn’t lose the connection. Then I hear some papers shuffling and Dad’s muffled voice calling for his assistant.

Then it hits me; this is the worst time for me to pull him away to spend the holidays at the house in the Hamptons. He’s got a mound of work to complete before year-end.

“Dad, I didn’t think about the timing. Forget I said anything. We’ll go after the first of the year.”

“We’ll make it happen. We’ll make anything happen that will put a smile back on your face.”

“It was a lapse in judgment to try and hightail it out of the city. You have too much going on right now.”

“I may have to commute back and forth, but that’s why I own a helicopter. I’ll call the staff and have everything arranged.”

“Really?”

“Yes, we haven’t spent Christmas in the Hamptons in years.”