Charlotte is all smiles and dressed in a black lacy nightgown when she answers the door. Not bed-rest attire for a pregnant woman at all. “I knew you’d come.”
“You didn’t give me a choice.”
“Sorry about that. Come in.”
I follow her into the living room and the scene is set for romance. Dim lights. Candles burning. Soft, romantic music. Some girly pop shit you hear on the radio every day. Nothing like the music Frankee would choose.
She gestures for me to sit down. “What did you decide?”
“You got what you wanted. Frankee and I are over.”
Charlotte’s smile couldn’t be bigger. “I knew you’d come to your senses and see that I was right.”
“I didn’t come to my senses, and I damn sure didn’t get what I wanted. I’ve told you from the start that Frankee’s the one thing I love most in this world. And that’s why I was willing to let her go rather than hold on to her and cause her any more pain.”
“You’ll get over her.”
“I will never get over her. Ever.”
“I think you can. And I think you can come to love me too with her out of our way.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“I understand it’s going to take time. I’m patient. Until then, focus all of your love on our daughter. And I promise you that the moment you lay eyes on her, it will be as though Frankee was never in your life. That little girl is going to wrap you around her finger. You’ll see.”
“You agreed not to go to Frankee’s parents. I need your word that you aren’t going to do that.” Not that I believe her word is worth anything.
“I’m not interested in anything having to do with Frankee as long as she’s out of our lives.”
“You don’t ever have to worry about that. I hurt her so deeply that she’s never coming back to me.”
“What did you do?”
“She thinks I’m choosing you over her.”
“You’re here. You are choosing me over her.”
“I’m choosing to no longer hurt her because I love her so fucking much. There’s a difference.”
“Doesn’t matter. She’ll never know that.”
“She won’t. Because she’s leaving. Leaving Lovibond. Leaving Birmingham. Leaving me.”
“Where is our precious little blue-eyed angel going?”
“Texas. She’s moving to Austin to live with her best friends just like she planned. Just like we never happened.”
“Texas? That’s fantastic. How many miles is that? Must be at least a thousand, right?”
“Seven hundred eighty-five.”
“Far enough that I don’t have to worry about her popping in to shit on my life. I’m proud of you, Porter. You finally manned up and made the right decision.” Charlotte slides across the couch and puts her hand on my thigh. “I think you deserve a taste of what you’ve been missing out on.”
“No.”
She tosses her leg over me and climbs onto my lap. “I could ride you all night.”
“No.” I grasp her wrists and push her off me. “First of all, I’m not interested in sleeping with you, but even if I were, you’re pregnant and on bed rest for preterm labor. You shouldn’t be doing things like that. It could make you go into real labor, and they might not be able to stop it.”
“But I’m so horny.”
“Having sex right now is putting the baby’s safety at risk. She’s barely far enough along that she’d have a chance at surviving right now. You don’t need to be messing around with me or anyone else.”
This baby may or may not be mine. Either way, doesn’t matter. She shouldn’t be putting a child’s life in jeopardy because she wants to get off.
“But I’m so lonely. You’ve been able to fuck any time you want while I have to lie here and do nothing. Be celibate. How is that fair?”
Such a liar. She hasn’t been lying around doing nothing. And I’d probably be right if I guessed that she hadn’t been celibate either.
“You’re going to be a mother. It’s your job to put your child’s needs ahead of your own. That includes taking your medicine on time and staying inactive. And no sex.”
“We don’t have to have sex. You could go down on me.”
“Fuck, no.” My mouth isn’t going anywhere near that.
“I need you to listen to me closely because the rules of this game are changing. Frankee isn’t in this picture anymore. That means you’re fucked because she was the only leverage you had with me. This shit you’ve been pulling ends now.”
“I haven’t pulled any shit with you.”
“I will continue to pay your rent and bills, but you will not show up at my house. You will not show up at my work. You will not text me. You will not call me. I will not be going to any of your doctor appointments or ultrasounds. I have no intentions of bonding with you ever. And I do not intend on bonding with this baby until I know for a fact that she’s mine. If it’s confirmed that she is, we will make some kind of custody arrangements at that time. If we are unable to agree on the arrangements, we will go to court and a judge will do that for us.”
“Porter … don’t do this.”
“Did you think you were going to win my heart by forcing me to end my relationship with Frankee?”
“You just need a little time away from her, and you’ll see that you belong with the mother of your child.”
“The next time I hear from you, you better be giving birth.”
My office landline rings. “Porter Beckman.”
“This is Charlotte’s mother, Sandy. She asked me to call you because she’s in the hospital. They weren’t able to stop her contractions this time. The baby’s coming.”
Ten weeks early. She’s going to be tiny.
“How dilated is she?” No way I’m going up there and sitting with her for hours.
“Six centimeters. They told us the baby would probably come soon.”
“I’m on my way.”
I end the call and take a deep breath. “Fuck.”
This is it. I’m finally going to be able to prove or disprove my paternity. No more wondering. I’ll either be set free or imprisoned in hell.
I’m a little more nervous than I thought I’d be.
I stop by Molly’s desk on my way out the door. “I’ll be out the rest of the day. You can forward my calls to my cell if anything pressing comes up.”
“Will do, boss.”
I enter the labor and delivery unit, and I hear Charlotte howling. What the hell? She should have had an epidural by now. That’s one reason I didn’t rush to get here.
Charlotte makes an over-the-top spectacle of everything. I figure giving birth is the worst possible scenario. And I’m not wrong, based on the sounds I hear coming from her room.
She has been writhing in the bed so hard that she has a huge rat’s nest in the back of her hair. Definitely not a good look for her. “Fuck! This is the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life. I didn’t think it was going to hurt this bad.”
Charlotte sees me in the doorway. “Porter, I’m in so much pain. Come hold my hand.”
I look at her mother. “Why doesn’t she have an epidural?”
“Part of her blood was too low. The clotting part or something. They said they can’t do the epidural because it could cause a bleed in her spine.”
“Motherfuckers want me to hurt!”
Oh damn. This is going to be unpleasant.
“Here comes another one,” Charlotte’s mom says.
“Shut the fuck up! Y
ou think I don’t know when another one’s coming. I’m the one feeling this shit.” She beats her hands on the mattress. “I’ve got to have something for pain. Call my nurse and tell her.”
“The nurse just gave you something.”
“Well, it’s not fucking working.”
Scream. Yell. Cry. Moan. That’s what’s in my ear for the next hour.
I know Charlotte is in pain. I don’t doubt that for a second. And as much as I dislike her for all the pain she has caused me, I don’t wish this kind of agony on her.
“Do you have to smile so fucking big when you come in my room?”
Charlotte’s nurse is a young woman who radiates with happiness–which is probably great for this line of work–but her smiles aren’t flying with her patient right now. “It’s time to check you, Miss Patterson.”
The nurse lowers the head of the bed and does the exam. “Motherfucker!” Charlotte grabs the nurse’s wrist and I can tell that she’s squeezing it. “You’ve got to stop.”
“Ten centimeters. You’re ready to push.”
I back away from the bed and sit in the chair when the nurse begins to uncover Charlotte and position her pushing. I don’t plan on watching anything that happens below the waist.
“Porter, I want you to watch the baby come out.”
“Forget that. Not happening.” I’m in this delivery room for one reason and one reason only. To give the doctor the cord blood paternity test and let him collect the sample for me. I’m out of here as soon as that happens.
The nurse gives Charlotte direction on what to do when it’s time, but I’m not sure she even listened. She’s too busy hounding me about holding her hand and watching our baby come into the world.
Breathe. Push. Scream.
That’s how the next few minutes go.
“I can see the top of the baby’s head.”
That catches my attention. “What kind of hair does she have?”
Charlotte perks up because she thinks I’m interested in the baby. And I am interested. But not for the reason she’s hoping for.
“None.” The nurse giggles. “She looks bald.”
No wild Beckman hair. Doesn’t prove she’s not mine but it’s a good start in my book.
Charlotte’s doctor comes into the room and gowns up for delivery. “Push and we’ll have a baby in the next few contractions.”