“He's twenty-two, in his last year of a business degree at Exeter Uni. He surfs in his spare time, wants to open a beach bar, shares a student house with his best friend Trey – who is also insanely hot, by the way, I don't know what they're putting in the water down there but it's working – and two other guys I've only met once. He’s unbelievable in bed, has washboard abs and the Adonis belt V thing going on, is really attentive and complimentary and sweet and funny and is TWENTY-TWO!”
“Damn. He's still at uni! That feels reeeaaalllyyyyy young. So, do you have a photo of the V, or…?”
I burst into laughter. “Ahhh Jaime, I wish. At least I would have had that to fondly look back on and one day show this baby. ‘See those cut abs? That's your daddy. Mummy hit that in her forties!’ Because I just don't see how he'll want any part of this. He's barely an adult and having a kid with an older woman he hardly knows would completely turn his life upside down!”
A breeze brushes past, creating a cascade of goosebumps on my arms so I grab one of the throws Max brought out and wrap it around me. The soft, fluffy material envelops me like a warm hug and I feel minutely better.
“You are going to tell him, though, right? You need to let him make this decision for himself and not put words in his mouth, hun. I know you're scared right now but it'll be ok. No matter what happens, you have us.” Max's dark hair reflects the oranges and golds of the fire as she leans forward to squeeze my knee.
“I know, babe. And yes, of course I'm going to tell him and let him decide if he wants to be involved. But he needs to be sure because I won't let him hurt this baby by walking away one day if he changes his mind.”
Max positively beams as she gets up to wrap me in a hug. “You're having a baby! And I'm finally going to be a godmother!”
“Whoa, hey now! Who said anything about you being godmother? Let Shari be the one to make this huge, important, life-altering, winning decision to choose me.”
“Uhhh, actually, guys, it'll be me. I'm the only one to make Shari godmother, so of course she'd want to reciprocate!” Elle argues.
I go back to staring at the stars with a smile on my face as they bicker back and forth, and for the first time in two days, I feel like everything really will be ok.
6
I’LL STAB HIM WITH A RUSTY SPORK
SHARI
9th June2023
“Ok,I've got you, come and sit on the couch with me,” I say as soothingly as I can whilst slowly walking him backwards into his living room. The backs of Brad's knees hit the cushion, and he immediately falls to sit on the sofa. I move my grip from his biceps to his hands as I shift to sit next to him, and his grip tightens on my fingers.
“I know this is a shock. But I just want you to know that I don’t expect anything from you. If you never want to see me again, if you don’t want anything to do with this baby, I get it. You can even sign away your parental rights if you really want to wash your hands of us. I won’t hold it against you and?—”
“I thought you couldn’t get pregnant,” he accuses quietly. The look in his eyes has morphed from shock to anger. “I distinctly remember you saying that you can’t get pregnant. So how the fuck did this happen? Did you lie to me? Is it even mine?What the fuck, Shari! I can’t have a kid!” he pulls his hands from mine to slap his thighs.
I expected some anger, but his words are like a slap to the face, regardless. “You…you think Iliedto you? Why would I do that?” I feel my own ire rising in response and there is no stopping it. “I just told you I don’t expect anything from you. So, what exactly would I have to gain by lying to you about this, Brad? I realise we don’t know each other very well other than the physical, but fuck you very much for thinking so little of me!”
His jaw flexes over and over again like he's biting back his words as he stares at the wall behind me.
“Seriously? You can't even look at me?” I choke out, my throat clogging with the threat of tears. Maybe I'm being overly sensitive, I have just dropped a bomb on him, but rationality is not in the driver's seat right now.
I stand and start marching for his front door, and I don’t know why, but my heart breaks a little when he doesn’t try to stop me. I pause with the door ajar and say over my shoulder, “I only came to let you know because that is your right. Your involvement after this point is down to you. I won’t stop you from having a relationship with our baby if that’s what you want, but I won’t let you break their heart either, so you need to decide if you’re in or out.”
Just as I'm about to shut the door behind me, I hear his quiet, “And what about us?” I look up in time to see his furrowed brow aimed at the floor, but I can’t figure out exactly what that expression means.
“There is no us, Brad. We were a fling. An occasional hook up. We don’t even really know each other and you're just...you're so young, so don't worry, you don't need to feel obligated to try and be with me for the sake of the baby.” I pause to take a breath and try to wrangle my emotions. “But if you want to know our child, they will need to be a priority for you. You’re their father,not a fun uncle who sometimes dips in and out of their life. You have time to think about it and you’ll get no pressure from me, but I’d like to know your decision before the baby is born.”
He gives me a terse nod, still unable to look at me, and I just about manage to get to my car before I burst into tears.
When I get homefrom Brad's, my girls are all waiting in my living room – we all have emergency keys to each other's houses – and it just makes me dissolve into a fresh round of tears. Jaime phoned me when I was driving home, so she must have put out the SOS call to rally the troops.
Most women have one or two people in their lives that they can call a true bestie, if they're lucky. I'm fortunate enough to have three. These ladies lift me up, keep me sane, and make me laugh like no others. We have each other's backs, no questions asked – well, ok, that's a lie, I always have questions but I'll still help a sister out whilst I interrogate them. So, although a tight group of four may be unusual, I'm so privileged to be part of the awesome foursome.
Elle rushes over to me and wraps me in a tight embrace whilst Max and Jaime bracket us for a group hug. Pickles hates being left out, so he jumps up and paces and whines until we let him into the circle. His derpy little face is so happy that it eases some of my turmoil.
Once I'm able to speak past the hiccuping sobs, I recount everything that happened with Brad. My baby's father. Who clearly thinks so little of me that I must have lied to...what? Steal his sperm and force him into fatherhood? Because sure, a uni student who works in a bar was the best option to trap inthat way. I'd roll my eyes if they weren't so swollen from all the crying.Stupid hormones.
Max, ever the practical one, squeezes my hand and starts planning my life. “You don't need him. We will help you every step of the way. We can make a rota so you're covered for all the big things, and you know you can just text or call for the smaller things too. I'll come with you to your first scan, and we can find out if they'll allow all three of us in the birthing suite with you.”
Elle, who has retreated into the kitchen to remove what smells like chocolate cake from the oven, shouts, “I’ve got dibs if they only allow one!”
