Rachel Gibson - Not Another Bad Date

“Yep. That’s a baby.”

It looked like a shrimp to Adele.

The doctor slid the probe a few inches. “And here’s the second.”

Adele scrunched up her eyes. The screen looked kind of like a television between channels except for two black circles with white images in the middles. “The heartbeat shows up in a second place?”

The doctor laughed. “Two babies.”

“What?”

“Shit.” Zach sat back in his chair.

“Two?” Adele heard a buzzing in her ears.

“Yes. You’re having twins,” the doctor assured her.

She closed her eyes. “Shit.”

A half hour later, Zach helped her on with her coat. Armed with prenatal vitamins, a card with her return visit on it, and a printout of the twins, Adele walked from the doctor’s office. She was numb from shock as she made her way to Zach’s Escalade. Her vision blurred, and she looked down at the picture. “These fuzzy white spots don’t look like babies to me.” Her voice sounded like it was coming from a distance. “I don’t want to have twins,” she said, and held up the photo. “ You did this to me, Zach.”

“Yeah, me and my turbo swimmers.”

“That isn’t funny. What am I going to do with…” she held up two fingers, “two?”

He opened the passenger door of the Cadillac. “Twins. Jesus, are you on fertility drugs?”

She hit him on the shoulder through his coat. “You get me pregnant with twins, then act like you’re the wounded party.” She thought of how big Sherilyn had gotten with Harris, then doubled it in her head. “I’m going to be as big as a whale,” she wailed. “My hands and feet are going to swell up, and it’s all your fault!” Hot tears splashed down her cheeks as she climbed in the car. Zach closed the door, and she wiped her face with her hands. Twins! She hadn’t known what she was going to do with one baby, let alone two. How was she going to take care of twins? One baby would be hard enough, but two? She stared out the side window as Zach got into the vehicle. He started the engine and sat for several long moments, the sound of the heater filling the silence between them.

“Just once,” he finally spoke, “I’d like to attend my own wedding where the bride isn’t knocked up.”

Adele turned and looked at him across the SUV. “What? I’m not marrying you.”

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “You’re pregnant,” he said through a sigh. “With twins. You can’t take care of two babies by yourself.”

She’d been thinking the same thing but wasn’t about to admit it to him. “Which is no reason to get married.” She shook her head. “You don’t want to marry me any more than I want to marry you.”

“Doesn’t matter.” He put the Escalade into gear, and they rolled out of the parking lot. “Pick a date, and we’ll go to the courthouse and do it,” he said without the slightest hint of emotion.

“I’m pregnant, not stupid. I’m not going to make two mistakes.” It was all so horribly unromantic, so loveless, that it might have been funny if it weren’t so sad. “You don’t love me, and I don’t want a bad marriage on top of everything else. Admit it, you don’t want to marry me any more than you wanted to marry Devon.”

He glanced over at her, and he lifted his gaze to her hair. “It probably wouldn’t be that bad.”

She hadn’t realized until he’d spoken that she’d been holding her breath, waiting from him to tell her he wanted to marry her because he loved her. She’d fallen in love for the second time with the same man who didn’t love her. Only this time it was worse. Two times worse.

“You’re not Devon.” He looked into her eyes.

She laughed through the little sob that broke her throat. What irony. She and Devon had always loathed each other and yet they’d ended up impregnated by the same man, and he didn’t love either one of them. The only difference was that Adele hadn’t done it on purpose. And of course, Adele would demand a lot more from the man she married than money and social position. “You’re right. I’d expect more from you than Devon. Money is easy. I’d expect something that I don’t think you can give.”

“What’s that?”

“I’d expect you to be faithful.”

“And you don’t think I can?”

She shook her head. “A man has to have a reason to be faithful.”

“Yeah?” he said through a scoff. “What’s that?”

“He has to love his wife.”

Zach watched Tiffany push ravioli around on her plate. She’d eaten half her pasta and salad and was now making patterns through the sauce.

“Are you finished?” he asked.

She nodded but didn’t look up.

“I have to talk to you about something important.”

“Is it about Adele?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t want to talk about her.”

Hell, Zach didn’t really want to talk about her either. Not with Tiffany. Not until he had it all sorted out in his own head, but he figured he better before she heard the news from Kendra. “She’s going to have a baby.”

The fork stopped and Tiffany finally looked up.

“Two babies, actually.”

“Your babies?”

“Yes.”

Her big green eyes rounded. “You had…” she paused and spelled out the word, “…s. e. x.?”

“That’s generally how babies are made.”

She sat back in her chair and looked at him as if he’d suddenly turned into some kind of pervert. “Yuck! That’s so…yucky.” She gasped and her mouth fell open. “And you’re not even married.”

Lord he felt like a sinner. A perverted sinner.

“How could you do…that?”

He stood and reached for the plates. “I’m an adult, and sometimes adults do ‘that.’ You’ll understand someday.”

“You’re gross!”

On top of everything else, he thought as he moved from the dining room, his daughter thought he was gross. He set the plates on the counter and planted his hands on the cold granite. How had his life gotten this fucked up? Just when it had been better than it had been in a long time, the bottom falls out. God, he’d give anything to go back to his life a few weeks ago, when everything had been good. When he’d won the state championship and he could relax. When he looked forward to seeing Adele every morning, making love, and sharing a waffle afterward.

How had this happened to him again? He’d learned his lesson the first time. He’d been careful with Adele. Even after she’d told him she had an IUD, he’d always worn a condom.

He thought of her face as the doctor examined her. She’d looked so pale and tired. When she’d slid off the table and stepped into her pink panties, he thought she might pass out, and he’d grabbed her arm to keep her from falling. He’d fought the urge to pull her against his chest and tell her everything would be okay, but he hadn’t. It wasn’t going to be okay.

Twins. He couldn’t wrap his brain around one baby, let alone two. He didn’t want any more children. Hell, he didn’t know what he was doing half the time with the child he already had. He didn’t want a wife either. He hadn’t meant to mention marriage as an option, but as she’d sat in the Escalade crying about getting as big as a whale, he’d felt responsible. She’d accused him of getting her pregnant, then acting like the wounded party, which was partly true, and for a few unguarded seconds, he’d felt like he had fourteen years ago when Devon had told him she was pregnant. Like before, he’d proposed marriage, but unlike Devon, Adele had turned him down flat. He should be congratulating himself.

I’m pregnant, not stupid. I’m not going to make two mistakes, she’d said. You don’t love me, and I don’t want a bad marriage on top of everything else. He should be doing a victory dance in the end zone, but he didn’t feel like celebrating. Admit it, you don’t want to marry me any more than you wanted to marry Devon. He hadn’t given marrying any woman a lot of thought. Knocked up with his twins or not. He remembered how he’d felt when he’d married Devon. Responsible. Resigned. Trapped. Like fourteen years ago, he was responsible for creating new life, two new lives, and he felt like someone had kicked him in the chest and knocked the wind out of him, but he didn’t feel trapped. Adele hadn’t tried to trap him, or she clearly wouldn’t be so upset about it herself. He should probably clear that up with her. Maybe even apologize for thinking she’d lied about the IUD. Yeah, maybe he’d do that when she wasn’t so emotional.