Wrong choice of words.
Her face changes. A hand goes to her hip. "Are you trying to pick a fight?"
"No. In fact, I came here because I want to talk to you about a few things."
Her face is set. She pulls a chair out and gestures for me to sit. But I feel like I'm about to be attacked for my comment. "So, sit. Talk."
She doesn't bother to turn the radio down. It's like she's not about to let me ruin her vibe, even though her face says that it's already ruined. "Well, um, I think we ought to talk about this baby."
She's irritated. "What about it?" A hand goes through her hair, and her tone says that she's in a hurry.
I chuckle facetiously. "What are we going to do about it?"
"Define 'do about it'."
"Are we keeping it? Are we giving it up for adoption? How far along are you? Things like that. Normal things that two people expecting a baby would have discussed already."
A quick sigh. "Look, Levi. I don't have any answers right now, okay? Jesus Christ, here I am, trying to forget about my problems for the night, and here you are, reminding me of every last one of them."
"I'm sorry." I say, although my tone is unapologetic. "But we need to get this shit out in the open. I need to know."
"Why? Why do you need to know this very second, Levi?" She demands.
"It's not this very second, Shelly. Shit, we've known about this long enough. We've not discussed a goddamn thing, and I need to know."
She rounds on me. "Why? If I say I'm keeping it, are you going to flee? What if I don't want it? Are you going to try to talk me down off the ledge? And why do I have to decide now, anyway? I'm in school, just like you are. I've got assignments and tests to worry about, too, you know."
"I get all that." I raise a hand and level with her. "Really, I do. But nothing is going to get solved if we don't talk about it."
Sitting down with a slump, she huffs but then goes silent. I'm thinking it's best to keep quiet while she thinks, but then I do something stupid. "Are you married, Shelly?"
Slowly, icily, her gaze meets mine. Her voice is low, warning. "Why would you ask me that."
"The rings. The ones that were on your counter until just a few days ago. I figured y'all was married and now you're up shit's creek without a paddle."
Her snuffle is mirthless. Her smile is more like she can't believe what I just said. "Where do you get off?"
"What do you mean? When a woman that I'm seeing and is having my baby owns a pair of wedding rings one day and then they disappear the next, I think I have a right to know, or am I crazy?"
It's like she can't handle my angle on this. Her eyes flutter as she drags a hand through her hair. "Let's just get back to the subject at hand here, okay? I am pregnant. Beyond that, I don't have a goddamn clue what I'm going to do about it yet, okay? And the last thing I need is for you or anyone to come around and try to tell me what I should do."
"Then why did you blurt it out to an entire fucking restaurant?" I say aloud, not bothering to hide the ire in my voice.
She swallows, so angry I swear to God there is smoke coming out of her ears. "I made a mistake. It was a Freudian slip. If I could take it back I would, but I can't, and you shoving that in my face right now is really low."
My chest heaves with a deep breath. When I let it out, I place a hand on her arm. "I'm sorry. Look, I'm no better at this than you are. We both aren't great with being put in surprise positions. I just, I want to be on the same page as you. If we're going to make these important decisions together, then we've got to talk it out first, that's all." I pause and search her eyes, which are softening some. "Can you at least do me one favor, so that we're all on the same page?"
After a beat, she nods. "Sure."
"Can you go to the doctor and at least find out how much time we've got until a decision needs to be made? Figure out how far along you are?"
A swallow, and her voice evens. "I can do that. But can we agree that we don't talk about this again until I do?"
"That sounds fair." I nod.
She leans forward and kisses me on the mouth. I kiss her back, but it feels different. It's like she's my fucking sister now. But I hide it by changing the subject and speaking like I need to ask her something quick. "Okay, so, since this is going to be a PG party, do y'all want me to head down to the Cineplex and grab you some movie popcorn or something?"
"They're bringing guacamole and junk food, but thanks."
