Christopher Ransom - The Birthing House

'Not that I know of. But, you know,' Gail frowned, 'Eddie is sort of like a drug, so maybe you could say that.'

'Young love can be that way,' he added, ready to play sage to the hand-wringing parent.

'You know she's pregnant,' Gail said.

'It appears so.'

'Obviously we wouldn't be leaving during this time, but Nadia's very determined to do this all on her own. She insists we go, and John really needs this vacation.'

'Sure, she seems capable.'

Gail finished with her vision of his role for the next ten days, fourteen if they got carried away. Conrad would 'feel free to stay at home', which made sense seeing as how he lived next door, ha ha. But Nadia was not to be trusted with the house. 'One friend at a time . . . no Eddie, no parties, no loud music.' It was to be a strictly pizza and Netflix affair. In addition to keeping one eye on Nadia, Conrad would need to mow the lawn, to water all the plants, check the mail.

'Sure,' he said. 'I need the exercise.'

'Actually, we also need our gutters cleaned. John's worried all this rain's going to start seeping into the basement.'

'I can do that.'

'The important thing is to be present at regular intervals. We'll pay you, of course.'

'I'm home all the time. I wouldn't hear of it.'

Gail touched his arm. 'Just a few hundred dollars. John would insist.'

'Then I won't argue.'

He didn't need the money, of course. But at least he would be assuming some sort of responsibility. Helping the neighbors. Maybe a chance to learn something about the house through Nadia.

Nadia. Pretty little pregnant Nadia.

It depressed him that his new neighbors saw him as closer to their own level of maturity than Nadia's. It suggested he was an adult, which he knew he was, on paper. He just hadn't realized other adults saw him this way, too. He felt too young to be a father, too old to be Nadia's friend.

Stop whining. Have some fun. You're still 'Rad, man!

'I'll be honest, Conrad,' Gail said, the beer having its way with her. 'We like you. And we just don't know anyone else we can trust. Steve and Bailey offered, but if we had someone our age poking around, Nadia would fly off the handle. I think she relates to you. Maybe you can be the cool older brother she never had.'

The older brother. Nice.

'When do you leave?'

'Tomorrow.'

'Whoa - watch out, Kentucky!'

'It's like fate.' Gail leaned in close enough that he could smell the garden and her sweet, beery breath. 'Do you believe in fate, Conrad?'

'I used to believe it was all in my hands. That we made our own choices and there was nothing else.'

Gail nodded. 'And now?'

'I try to keep an open mind.'

Jo again, back on the horn. 'That's great. It's perfect for you, honey.'

'Really? You're not disappointed?'

'Why would I be?'

'I just thought maybe you'd want me to be out looking for a real job. There are sales jobs in Madison, temp work.'

'Is that what you want to do? Sell advertising?'

'No.'

'So our new neighbors offered you some easy work. Maybe it happened for a reason.'

'Like fate?'

'Sure,' she said. So far she hadn't mentioned the pregnancy. He knew they weren't ready to go into it, maybe not until she came home.

'So the job is good? You're confident this is the right thing?'

'What? Oh, it's good. It's fine. It's not really the kind of job I can see myself in for the next five years.' She snorted, implying the ridiculous.

'Sweetie?'

'Yes?'

'Why do I feel like you've made some decision and haven't told me?'

'Like what?'

'Jo.'

'What?'

'You're so "whatever", like you had another brilliant breakthrough. '

She sighed and he heard the bed squeak like she'd just given up and plopped down to dig in for the inevitable.

'I'm not going to turn this into a whole production,' she said.

'I just don't want you coming to some big decision without me. Don't tell me today it's Detroit and tomorrow it's Amsterdam or--'

Somewhere in the room, a door shut. He heard a faint 'Oh, hey, is this a . . . time?' in the background. The voice sounded neutral, possibly male. There was a muffling sound and he heard his wife say, 'Gimme one second.'

'Who's that?' Conrad said.

The phone unmuffled. 'You know what I think, honey? I think you need to remember I'm just not really there right now.'

'No shit, sweetie.'

'And we might as well get it over with. I'm not going to be there for another five weeks.'

Stay cool, boss. 'Heh heh. Yeah. Please tell me that was a joke.'

'There's a lot going on, for both of us. The move, the house, the job, and your father even though you weren't close and I still think you need to see someone about that, but it's your choice, so okay, and there's everything else. And it's too hard to do it all at once.'

'So . . . ?'

'So, I'm saying, we're not going to do it, not now. We're just not.'

Anger, like whiskey in his belly, flaring out.

'Conrad?'

'I'm coming out,' he said.

'What?'

'To see you.'

'Conrad, no.'

'Why the hell not?'

'Because I don't want you to.'

'Why not?'

'I don't want to say it.'

'Say it, or so help me I will drive there tonight.'

'I can't stand you right now.'

'Nice, Jo. Real nice.'

'I need space.'

'What does that mean?'

She wasn't crying. Not even close. She sounded like a woman he had never met.

'I'm not coming home and I don't want you to come here because I don't want to see you. Do you understand?'

'Ever? What the fuck? Jesus, who's in your room, Johnny Depp? Does he have, a what, a fucking earring, too?'

She didn't say anything for fifteen seconds. Was she trying to make him suffer? Make him go off?

So be it.

'You don't want to see me ever again. You're leaving me, the dogs, the house? And what is this, "I can't do this right now" shit? Are you thinking about having an abortion?'

He'd never even thought of that until just this second and now it was like a neon sign in his brain - SHE'S GOING TO KILL YOUR BABY - while he stood here in a fucking birthing house. If she did not answer soon he would start screaming and not stop until someone jammed a needle in his arm.

'You bitch--' he started, and then she did scream. No, it was yelling. Like his father speaking at some terrible hoarse volume, controlled and therefore twice as scary.

'You fucking asshole! Are you out of your mind? I'm pregnant with your child! I just moved across the country with you because you decided to buy a house without even asking me! I'm in training for eight weeks, I miss my home, I miss my dogs and, yes, until tonight, I missed you. I can't deal with work and being pregnant and your insecure bullshit about one stupid night that I passed out after talking - TALKING - to your friend. So, no, not now, do you understand? '

'I'm sorry,' he croaked.

'I'll be home in five weeks and then we can worry about whether or not we have the baby, but right now I am trying to follow through on a commitment and I NEED TO GET THROUGH THIS ALONE!'

The same sexless voice said, 'Do you want me to go?'

'No,' she said.

'Who's that--'

'Night, Conrad.' She hung up on him.

So arrived the night that Conrad Harrison learned, to his utter amazement, that there are certain times you don't want to see a young woman's breasts.

As Big John showed him the plants to be watered, the windows to shut when you ran the a/c, and the ladder and tools for the gutter repairs, Conrad felt something was eating the big man - something other than the hope his wife was packing in her Samsonite. Like, for instance, leaving his obviously troubled and not at all unattractive pregnant daughter with an older male he hadn't had time to get to know over bocce and a six-pack.