#Babymachine (Baby Crazy 1)

I was all alone.

And crying out once more, my body made a sharp left. There was no reason to be a fool in public. If I could hide somewhere, I would.

So I stumbled my way into Central Park. And it was a little better. The winding trails and towering trees calmed me down, fall colors brilliantly red, orange and yellow. Central Park. How beautiful, how magical and mystical, the setting for so many movies. But the sun was already growing dim, shadows on the walkways, people calling their dogs and kids to go home. Figures. I was the only one with no place to go.

I couldn’t go to Mason’s apartment, that was suicide.

I couldn’t go to work, Carlton Corporation belonged to him.

And my old apartment? I’d run out without the key. There was no doorman, no live-in super to let me in.

So I was stuck.

My messenger bag felt even heavier than before, dragging on my shoulder, posture tilting to the left. I was the walking dead, limping lifelessly down a wooded trail.

But the park was safe at least. It had been a long time since anybody was assaulted here by criminals. Now it was more raccoons and fireflies, just animal sounds at night. I was going to be okay. Right?

A shot of adrenaline briefly jolted through my frame. But my jaw clenched, teeth grinding against one another. Because I had to stay strong. With nowhere to go, this was my only safe haven.

Nobody will attack you, the voice in my head said firmly. Let’s get real. Nobody even wants you.

Another sharp sob ran through my frame. But what could I do but keep moving?

So walking forwards, I wandered deeper into the foliage, purposefully trying to lose my way. The wondrous thing about Central Park is that it’s still possible to get lost. The acreage is expansive enough so that even in the middle of an urban setting, you can block everything out. No buildings. No planes visible overhead. No people, just wild foliage and the darkness of night.

I stumbled forward, seeing nothing.

It was a little scary, but I squared my shoulders again.

Nothing to be afraid of, reminded the voice in my head. You’re going to be fine.

Suddenly, my phone shrilled, the sound tinny and artificial in the air.

With trembling fingers, I picked up.

“Hello?”

I hated how sad my voice sounded.

“Bethy! How are you!”

Silence for moment.

“Dad?” came my stupefied voice. “Dad?”

“I’m shocked you remember the sound of my voice,” George teased. “How are you, baby girl?”

Of course, it’d been months since we talked, but George always acts like everything’s okay.

“Um, I’m fine,” I managed to stammer. No need to let him in on the sad state of my life. My dad is always too wrapped up in his own thing. “Why? Wh- what’s going on?”

My father never calls me. I didn’t even have his phone number for emergencies. But he plowed on ahead, like we were chums.

“I let you a message the other day. Didn’t you get it?”

“Oh sorry,” I managed. “Sorry about that, just been busy.” The truth is, I hadn’t bothered to check my messages in weeks. My life with Mason had been so amazing, the whirlwind of loving consuming my all. But now that was gone.

And George sensed something wrong.

“You sure you’re alright, Bethy? You don’t sound so good.”

I rubbed my eyes tiredly. Why are you asking now? I wanted to say. It’s not like you care. But there was no point in getting into that at the moment. I was too exhausted, my frame limp, sitting lifelessly on a nearby log.

“I’m okay, Dad. Why, what’s going on?”

He was quiet for a second. “Well, I wanted to get together with you. Maybe have some dinner, you know, the three of us.”

The three of us? My heart jolted with electricity. Did he mean Mason? Oh wait. George didn’t even know about Mason. He was talking about his girlfriend, Lynne. The one who had him over the moon.

So I opened my mouth, words dull.

“Yeah, sure. But I can’t leave the country until Christmas, okay? I’m in school, remember?”

He chortled.

“Of course you are, Bethy! I meant we would come there. To New York, that is.”

I was so shocked I actually stopped walking. “Really? Is something wrong, Dad? What’s going on?”

“No, no. Nothing like that,” came his voice. “I just want to see my little girl again, that’s all.”

This was so strange. After two years, George had barely bothered to reach out, and now he wanted to meet me in the city? But why not? There was nothing to hide. My relationship was over. Or more accurately, my would-be relationship that never really existed was over. So I agreed.

“Okay,” I managed in a defeated voice. “Come whenever.”

“Good, good. I’ll call back later to firm things up, okay?”

His voice crackled all of a sudden, like the signal was dying.