Amanda Jason - Lucky Number Four

“Pinky swear? Really?” He chuckles and I join in.

“You know what I mean. I’m serious. This is serious.” My eyes fill up with tears. God, this hormone thing is real.

“Okay, don’t cry. I’ll do anything if you don’t cry. I won’t tell a soul, promise. Dora, I’m here for you and the baby. I won’t desert you, but I think down the road, Drew needs to know. It’s his baby too.”

“But it’s my fault. I was so careless and worked up that night, and didn’t have him use a condom. We were so mindful after than night though. Who gets pregnant the first time?”

“How many first times are we talking about? How many times that night?” He looks at me in amazement.

“I lost track after the first, but it was quite a few,” I say sheepishly, the law of averages was definitely against me.

“So it seems you played the odds and gained a bundle.”

He did not just say that. Just wait until I get my strength back.

“Something tells me you’re angry now. If the sparks shooting out of your eyes are any indication, then you are, but at least you’re not crying.” Jeff jumps off the bed and sits in a chair, a few safe feet away when I send him a playful glare.

The last few weeks have been a complete blur. I felt much better after the hospital visit, and Jeff has been the ultimate caretaker. He made me an appointment after doing tons of research on every obstetric doctor in the area. Thank heaven, it’s a woman. She doesn’t normally take my insurance, but miraculously, she made an exception. Jeff won’t tell me why though. All he said was it must be his magnetic personality, which is a bunch of bull.

The doctor visit went okay. I got a clean bill of health and a prescription for horse-sized vitamin pills. She said the ER doctor was right, and she agrees I got pregnant on New Year’s once I informed her that we had used protection every time after that. Jeff came in with me and used the same line that allowed him to be in the ER with me—that he was my boyfriend. Which technically isn’t a lie since he is both my friend and a boy.

Every day after my first appointment, Jeff has made sure I follow the instructions of the doctor and eat three meals a day, all bland tasting of course. Luckily, my nausea has started to subside. In fact, it seems surreal that I have a “bun in the oven,” as Jeff lovingly refers to the baby.

I still don’t know how I’m going to tell everyone, so I’ve distracted myself by concentrating on my studies. My heart is still mending, and I lie in bed every night wondering where Drew is, and what he’s doing. It really hurts. Jeff and I had a blowout or up, whatever, the other day, as he took it upon himself to tell my job I won’t be coming back. I was mad for a whole day and told him I needed the money, and he said he would pay for all my stuff, which is ludicrous. His parents have always made him work to pay his bills. He says not to worry, and I wonder where he’s getting the money since he quit his job as well just to take care of me.

I promise to pay him back one day, but I’m not sure how realistic of a promise that is. Every time I think of what it takes to raise a child, it makes me sick to my stomach. Termination or adoption are most definitely both out. I want to keep this baby, so I’ll just have to make it work.

“Dora, how about Papa’s tonight?” Jeff asks from the living room.

“We can’t afford to eat out. I wish you would tell me where you’re getting all this money.” I come out of my bedroom and put my hands on my hips. I’m going to get him to spill or die trying. Okay, I’m not going to die … it’s just a saying. “Anyway, my pants are getting tighter, and soon I’ll have to wear bigger clothes. Everyone will know soon. But I’m giving you an out, so spill. Where’s the money coming from?” I glare at him, hoping I’ll scare his gorgeous face into fessing up.

“Okay, stop nagging at me. I have a trust fund. I swore to myself that I’d support myself with a job and never dip into it. My parents agreed that it’d do me good to have to work for things, but things have changed. This is what I want to spend my money on,” he says. “I want to help you, Dora.”

“How will I ever pay you back?” I moan, putting my face in my hands. My life is such a mess.

“We’re family. You mean the world to me, and I can’t wait to be Uncle Jeff to your little bump.” He pulls my hands from my face and pulls me in for a hug. He gives the absolute best hugs, and yes, my eyes fill up with tears at his words. “Now, no crying. Grab your coat and let’s go. I won’t take no for an answer.” He pushes me away and I go to my room to retrieve my coat.

Papa’s is busy, but it’s no surprise with it being Friday night. Jeff is leading me through the crowded place and every table is full. I wonder if we’re going to sit at the special kitchen table. We make our way to the back, and when I move to the side to avoid a customer getting up from his seat, I see two people I truly want to avoid. They’re waving to us, and Jeff pulls me with him to their table. Later, we’ll have a heated discussion, but I put on a smile and both Liam and Colin take turns hugging me and telling me they’re happy to see me.

I know Drew won’t be joining us, as the Internet says he’s in Australia on a job. Yes, I may have been stalking him recently. Jeff avoids my eyes and I think of ways I can get him back for his deception, making me believe this was a spur-of-the-moment decision.

“We’ve missed you two.” Liam’s eyes sweep both of us, but linger longer on Jeff.

“The loft isn’t the same without you, Dora. When are you coming back? Jeff says you’re temporarily with him because of the bad weather and he worries about you driving to school in it,” Colin says, and I restrain from eye-rolling at such a lame explanation.

“I know it’s more convenient, and now that Jeff has a two-bedroom, it’s handy. You guys have been traveling a lot, so I would’ve been alone anyway.” There’s a huge elephant in the room. Nobody is talking about Drew and me, and maybe they don’t know? But surely he would have told them. They’ve been best friends forever.

“Oh, it’sa my favorite people in the wholea wide world. How did you sneaka in here?” Papa’s loud voice makes me jump a little.

Tears well up in my eyes as he leans down and kisses my cheek and hugs me. Then it’s Mama’s turn, and our table erupts in laughter as they tell us about the crazy customers they’ve had in lately. We order, and when the food arrives it smells delicious as always.

My mouth waters, but as soon as I take a bite of perfectly made lasagna, my stomach rolls and I reach for the bottle of antacids in my bag. I bend down like I’ve lost my napkin and throw two in my mouth. I chew them quickly and then sit up to find three sets of eyes fixed on me.

“Napkin fell,” I say, and they continue eating.

It’s hard to pretend to eat. I finally give up and ask for a doggie bag, which makes Papa’s eyebrows rise. I’ve never needed a to-go bag in all the years I’ve been coming here. He looks at me suspiciously, but says nothing.