Baby Daddy (23 page)

I noticed the manila envelope on the desk where I had left it yesterday.  Wrapped in all the conflict of his death, I decided I wanted to know what sort of things about my mother and myself Roger had felt were important enough to save.  I took the envelope and climbed up on the big bed where I could spread
it all out.

I carefully removed everything and started going through the pile, piece by piece.  There was a copy of my birth
certificate and my tiny footprints from the hospital.  I compared them to my size 8s and smiled to see each print was barely bigger than my heel was now.  I set that document aside and picked up the next, my baptismal certificate.  After that were photocopies of several of my report cards, school pictures and childish drawings.  There was even some yellowed tape still stuck to the top of one that showed he had, at some point, liked it enough to hang it in his home or his bus or wherever he had lived at the time.  For some reason, that small testament that he had actually cared enough to display it touched me deeply.  I ran my fingertips over the pieces of tape, knowing his fingers had once been on that exact same spot, and he had been thinking of me.

My eyes filled with tears and I blinked them back.  I didn’t want to get all silly and melancholy.  There was still so much to see. 
I sorted through dozens of newspaper articles about my Little League games, my four years on the high school varsity softball team, even a photo of me as the homecoming queen. I remembered how much I had loved the strapless midnight blue dress I wore that night.  My step-dad had just lost his job and my mother had told me she couldn’t afford to buy me a new dress.  I was ashamed to say that I had cried myself to sleep, thinking I would have to wear something old.  Miraculously, the day of the game, the dress had appeared on my bed and I had felt like the most beautiful girl in the world.  Now that I knew Roger had actually paid for it, I looked at it with new interest.

I found more clippings covering my first two years at ASU, including an interview where I had expressed my hopes for making the Olympic
team.  There were two photos with the article, one of me in my uniform on the mound, just after releasing a softball from my windmill pitch.  The ball was a blur as it blasted toward the plate.  The other photo was a posed shot of me and Brandon.  I stared at it, trying to remember that moment.  But honestly, so much had happened in the past two months that it paled in comparison.

I paused and looked at the condensed version of my life.  It was like a movie preview with all the elements of the story projected on
-screen in short snippets.  But it was all there.  I smiled, a sad, wistful smile.  He had known about me all along.

There were only a few things left in the pile.  One was
a single page flyer that advertised a concert on Saturday, November 13, 1993 by the popular band Scandals featuring Roger Elliott playing in Killeen, Texas.  It was a little tattered around the edges.  Underneath that was a Polaroid photo of my mom and a man I assumed was Roger.  But it wasn’t the mom I had known.  This woman was my age and looked very much like me with long flowing blond hair.  Her eyes were hazel, but they were big, like mine, almost oversized in her small oval face.  It wasn’t just her facial features that caught my attention.  It was her expression…the look of a woman in love.

She was laughing, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at Roger who was much taller than her.  That must have been where I got my height, I thought. 
I turned my focus on Roger and, even though I now knew he was my father, I had to admit that he was a strikingly handsome man.  Shaggy dark brown hair, sexy smile, slender, but muscular body and those electric blue eyes…just like mine.  He was looking down at my mother adoringly as if she was the only woman in the room.  It was then that I realized a truth about Roger…he had truly been in love with each of our moms, for that moment or month or year or however long their affair had lasted.

An equally compelling realization was that he had been very young then, too,
only in his mid-to-late-twenties.  I could imagine how sudden fame, access to all the alcohol and drugs…and women he could ever want, combined with life on the road that was usually lonely and boring, had offered temptation he wasn’t mature enough to resist.  Who was I to judge him?  Who knew how I would have reacted in his situation?

Not that I would have sex with a half dozen different men and fall in love with a new one every year…although I was well on my way to doing just that with two men in two serious relationships in less than two months.  And I didn’t even have the rock star excuse.

I picked up the last photo and saw it was of my mother…naked.  Instead of being shocking or disgusting, she was standing in profile against a window with sunlight forming a brilliant aura around her, throwing her features into shadow.  It was her pose that made the photo striking because she had her hand on the small mound of her stomach and she was looking down at it with a Madonna-like smile on her face.  Not Madonna, the slutty singer, but the serene Madonna, like on Christmas cards.

I held the photo closer, so moved by the fact that it was me inside her stomach, causing that glowing expression of love and anticipation.  I looked down at my own taut stomach and tried to imagine what was going on inside me.  Did it have teensy arms and legs yet?  Was it the size of a bean or a peanut?  Was it a boy or a girl?

Oh God, I didn’t want to think of it as a real person.  Not yet.  Not when it was still possible that I wouldn’t carry it to term.  Another flood of tears rolled down my cheeks.  I was too young.  I shouldn’t have to be making decisions like this.  I should be playing beer pong and shopping for my Rush Week dress, not thinking about baby formula and maternity clothes.

Gently, with much more care than before, I gathered all the papers and photos into a neat stack and put them back in the envelope.  It had become my most treasured possession.

A soft knock sounded at the door and I jumped up.  I quickly wiped my eyes and checked my reflection in the mirror.  Not too much damage.  I just looked a little tired…which was appropriate since I hadn’t gotten much sleep last night.  I placed the envelope back on the desk and hurried to the door.

I opened it enough to peek around the edge, not wanting just anyone to see me in my teddy.

“Can I come in?” Christopher whispered, and I opened the door wide enough for him to slip in before closing it behind him and turning the lock.

He had come.  My heart did a little happy dance.  He wanted me…at least for one more night.  His appreciative gaze swept my body slowly, so intensely that I could almost feel him touching me.  The heat swirled in my stomach and melted into my loins in anticipation.

“You look amazing,” he breathed.

I had never felt more beautiful.

CHAPTER TWENTY

An hour later, the teddy lay forgotten on the floor on top of his
discarded jeans.  We reclined on the rumpled sheets, gloriously naked, having long ago kicked the comforter half off the bed.  Christopher was on his back and I was sprawled on top of him, our legs intertwined.  I lifted my head off his chest and leaned back far enough so I could look down at his face.

We were both still flushed f
rom our lovemaking even though we had taken it slow, teasing and tantalizing each other until he eased inside me and sent me into an almost instant orgasm that had been so intense I thought I was going to pass out.

He looked up at me from beneath heavy, half-closed lids.  His
delicious lips tilted into a lazy grin.  “You’re going to kill me, darlin’.  But it’s a great way to die.”

“
You probably say that to all your women,” I purred.  Okay, so I was blatantly fishing…for a compliment…for information about his other women…for any sign that I was the lover he wanted to keep around.

He reached up and pushed my tousled hair back from my face.  “Not so much.”

That did nothing to address any of my concerns.  I tried to think of a way to rephrase my comment, but before I could, he continued, “You are the only woman I would risk my reputation in the office for.  I’ve spent almost every waking hour going to school, working for Roger or learning how to run the business.  I haven’t been tempted to take time just to…”  He gave me that slow, sexy smile, “have fun.”

“Did you ever date Sunny?”  I was horrified that I needed to know that so much.

“No, not even tempted,” he answered.  “Don’t get me wrong…I’m not a saint.  But I’m not a player either.”

That relieved my fears somewhat.  I put my head back down on his chest.  He continued playing with my hair until the steady beat of his heart lulled me to sleep.

We didn’t wake until after 10 a.m…but we didn’t get out of bed until just before noon.  A shower that should have been quick turned into a hot, slippery vertical quickie when Christopher decided to join me.  We giggled and played like little kids until we knew we had probably passed the point of using the coincidence excuse when we both were the last people down to breakfast again.

Christopher peeked out the window.  “They’re all around the pool.  I’ll go to my room and get dressed.  You go out the
back way and I’ll wait a few minutes and go out the kitchen door.”

“Sounds like we’re planning a military invasion,” I commented.  “Would it be that horrible if everyone found out?  Think how much easier it would be to be together?”

“Not yet.  I don’t want them to get distracted from the Roger investigation.  After it’s over…”

He didn’t finish the sentence, and I knew I couldn’t push.  I watched as he opened the door, peered into the hallway, then gave me a wink and slipped out.

I refused to let his reluctance to share ruin what had been a wonderful night.

Nobody asked, but my new half-siblings were pretty sharp.  I could see it in their eyes that they suspected exactly what was actually happening.  More importantly, I could tell that they
didn’t care.  I honored Christopher’s timeline…whatever the hell it was, but I didn’t insult their intelligence by making excuses.

It was a typically beautiful June day although the temperature was rising a degree or two every day.  Soon it would be July and August and well into the hundreds.  We took plenty of sunblock, cold beverages and snacks and finally walked down the forty feet of
vertical pathway to the floating dock.

The boat was a 25’ pontoon boat with a center console, perfect for partying.  There were p
added seats circling both ends for sitting or getting a tan.  Around the console was plenty of open space so we could walk and mingle without feeling crowded.  The Mercury outboard was powerful enough to pull a skier, and we all took turns showing off, except of course, for poor Liberty who stayed under the canopy and watched us while keeping her leg elevated.  It was her first boat ride in anything that wasn’t powered by a paddle, and she seemed to be enjoying herself.

It was a great day.  For that brief period of time, we were able to completely push Roger’s death and all the related complications out of our minds.  Reno dazzled us with magic tricks, made even more amazing because he was wearing nothing but a pair of baggy swim trunks.  There was nowhere to hide the cracker he made appear and disappear or the pickle he somehow managed to slip into Dallas’ slightly tighter swimsuit, causing a suspicious bulge that we all tried not to notice, but laughed uncontrollably about once it was revealed to be a dill pickle.  Dallas, of course, wasn’t quite so amused, but his sense of humor had taken a turn for the better in the last few days.

I was pleased that my turquoise bikini didn’t show any signs of my own personal pickle.  And Tulsa looked surprisingly sexy in a black, of course, two-piece that showed off a tattoo of a hummingbird on her left shoulder. Liberty was wearing a more modest tank swimsuit.  However, it was Christopher, a pair of surfer baggies hanging low on his slim hips with his well-defined abs on display that drew my attention.  He wasn’t obvious, but whenever our eyes met, he gave me a little wink or a special grin just for me to see.

Like I said, it was a wonderful day.

It was a much more difficult hike back up the forty-foot trail, carrying the ice chest, our wet towels and a bag full of garbage, especially since we had completely transferred the contents of that ice chest into our stomachs and we were all a little red from too much sun.  We finally made it back to the house, laughing and half-drunk from the alcohol and the physical exhaustion.

We stumbled into the kitchen and saw John serving a freshly grilled hamburger to a young man sitting at the bar.  He turned and as soon as he saw us, a big smile lit his handsome face and he slid off his barstool and hurried forward, his arms spread wide.

“Killeen, sweetheart, I’ve missed you.”  His brown eyes roved over my nearly nude body.  “God, you can’t even tell you’re pregnant!”

My feet were frozen to the tile floor.  I was so shocked I could barely sputter, “What the fuck are you doing here, Brandon?”

“I came to see you and ask you to forgive me,” he said.  “I was a shithead, but I’ve had time to think about it.”  He grabbed my hand and dropped down on one knee.  “Killeen, will you marry me?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Behind me I heard the ice chest drop to the floor, all the empty cans
and bottles inside clattering together.  I looked around at six varying levels of surprise and horror.  Even Tulsa whose face rarely showed any emotions was staring at me with what looked suspiciously like empathy.  But it was Christopher whose reaction twisted my heart and made me want to scream.

His eyes were hollow and as I watched, the flash of pain was replaced by the squint of anger.  He looked at me and shook his head, not daring to speak.  I saw his hands…those big gentle hands…clench into fists.  For a second I thought he was going to punch Brandon.  For a second, I wished he would.

Then he was gone.  I heard him pick up a set of keys off the car board, followed by the slam of the front door.  An engine roared to life and the squeal of tires on flagstone signaled he had left the property.

“Uh…we’ll be outside if you need us,” Reno offered hesitantly.  He and Dallas looked at me, willing to protect me and beat Brandon to a pulp at my signal.

On the one hand it felt good having brothers who were ready to fight for my honor.  On the other hand, I was completely humiliated that my secret had been outed so harshly.

“I’m fine,” I managed to choke out.  “Thanks.”

Reluctantly, my four siblings exited outside and John quickly followed.  I turned back to Brandon.

“Stand up, you fool,” I told him.

He blinked, startled by my lack of enthusiasm for his generous offer.  He obediently stood.  “You look so hot!” he exclaimed.

Funny how that didn’t mean anything to me from his lips.  But when Christopher said it, I wanted to rip his clothes off.

“How did you find me?” I asked.

“One of my buddies from ASU saw the article in the paper about how your father was Roger Elliott.  My mother had all his CDs.
  Apparently, he was a really big deal.”

“So, I guess the bigger question is
why
did you find me?”

He tried to look hurt.  “Because I realized I love you.  Paris just wasn’t any fun without you.”

“You left me, you ass.  What makes you think I want you back?”

He reached out and rubbed my
belly.  I flinched away.  “Because you have a little Brandon inside there.”

That literally turned my stomach.  I felt like I was going to throw up.  I’d had a few terrific mornings without tossing my cookies
, but now I could taste the bile in my mouth.

“Brandon, get out,” I demanded.  “I don’t know what your angle is, but I don’t want to marry you.  When I walked out of that dirty-ass apartment, I left you
and our life together behind.  I’m sorry you made the long plane trip here, but I’m sure you can be back in Paris by this time tomorrow night.”

He frowned, unable to comprehend that I wasn’t falling at his feet and kissing his toes.

“Seriously, Brandon, this isn’t going to happen.  You don’t love me and you don’t want to be a father.  You made that perfectly clear, and I always say that you should trust your first impression.”

“I thought you loved me…”

“I thought I did, too.”  I shrugged. I noticed his hair, so artfully combed into a faux-hawk and his sprayed-on tan.  How had I ever been attracted to this phony pretty boy? “But I had no idea what love was.”  He looked so hurt by that confession that I hurried to add, “You were my first real crush.  It was a college fling, and now we’ve both moved on.”

“What about your inheritance?  I heard you were a millionaire.”

I laughed out loud.  “I knew there had to be a reason for your sudden change of heart.  You’re such a jerk.  I have absolutely no interest in getting back together with you, but I could probably get you a job if you wanted it. We need people to sit in cars and peep in windows all night.”

“Shit no.  When I get back in the fall I’m going to work at my dad’s firm in Minneapolis.”

“Good luck with that,” I said sarcastically.

“
What about the baby?”

“
You mean
my
baby?  Don’t worry, it won’t have your last name.  I don’t want your help, and I don’t expect you to have any part in his or her future.”

The look of relief on Brandon’s face was so obvious I almost laughed.  “Are you sure?”
he asked.

“Positive.”

“Will you sign a release from my lawyer?”

“Gladly
,” I agreed.  “I’ll have my lawyer check it out.”  I didn’t really have a lawyer unless you counted Harlan, but it felt really good to snap that back to Brandon.

He heaved a big sigh and smiled, the first genuine emotion of the day.  “It’s good to see you, Killeen.  You look better than I remembered.”

I didn’t bother answering.  I didn’t need his compliments, but it felt damn good to hear them.  “Do you need a ride to the airport?”

“No, I rented a car.”

He came in for a hug and I held my hand out, stopping him before he got too close.  He took my hand and with an elegance that was as phony as he was, lifted it to his lips.  “I’ll never forget you,” he promised.

I hoped I’d be able to forget him.  “Goodbye, Brandon.  Have a nice life.”

I watched him walk away, and I had no regrets.  Well, maybe one…a little pickle-sized complication that would soon make me outgrow my bikini.

With all the enthusiasm of a
woman on death row, I went outside to face whatever questions my new siblings might have.  Reno and Dallas were in the pool playing one-on-one water basketball.  As soon as they saw me, the splashing stopped.  Liberty and Tulsa sat at the table with John, and they, too, focused on me.  John stood, cleared his throat and announced before going inside, “I’ll get dinner started.”

“
So, are congratulations in order?” Reno asked.

I could count on him to get directly to the point.  “No on the marriage proposal and maybe on the baby,” I admitted.

“It’s true?” Liberty was the only one who seemed to be excited at the news.  “Oh, I love babies.  When is it due?”

“Yes, I’m pregnant.  But I haven’t decided if I’m going to have it.”

“How could you
not
have it?” Liberty asked, truly not comprehending the possibilities.  “I mean, once you’re pregnant, it’s pretty much a done deal, isn’t it?”

“I
still have a month or so to decide whether or not to terminate it.”

Liberty gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.

“Or I might give it up for adoption,” I hurried to add.  “I’m sure there are a lot of wonderful people who would love to have a baby.”

That appeared to make Liberty feel a little better.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Tulsa asked.  “Didn’t think you could trust us with the news?”

I slumped down on a chair between Liberty and Tulsa.  “I’ve been trying to accept it myself.  It was quite a surprise, and it’s just such a big deal.  I think I’ve been in denial, you know…hoping it would just go away.”  I shrugged.  “It didn’t.”

Dallas and Reno had gotten out of the pool and pulled up chairs next to us.  “So that Brandon douche is the father?” Dallas asked.

“Yeah, sad to say.  I thought I was in love with him, but I think I was just
caught up in the dating a frat boy kind of thing.  I felt really alone after my mother died.  Brandon made me feel like I was part of something.  When I was with him, exciting things were always happening, you know, parties and trips to Cabo.”

“How’s that working out for you now?”
Reno asked wryly.

I looked from face to face.  These people that I hadn’t known existed a week and a half ago were now
my best friends.  I didn’t want to get all sappy, but I wanted them to know how much they meant to me.  “Brandon treated me like shit, but I thought that was how being in a relationship was.  I was pretty beat down when I arrived here,” I admitted.  “But I found a family and new friends.  I’m not alone anymore.”

“So what’s with
you and Christopher?” Reno already knew the answer to that, but I suppose he thought it would be good to get it all out in the open at once.  The truth was, I didn’t have a definitive answer for that.

I glanced around.  “He’s not here, is he?  I guess he’s not interested in being a baby daddy either.”  Even though my tone was flippant, I was dangerously close to tears.  I realized I couldn’t talk about Christopher and my relationship…or lack of.  Apparently, he wasn’t in it for the long haul.
  Why was I always attracted to men who ran away at the slightest hint of responsibility?

I stood, took a few steps to the pool and dove in.  The warm water felt good against my flushed face.  Now nobody could tell if the liquid on my cheeks was tears or pool water.

Christopher didn’t come back for dinner.  I tried not to care.  I could tell the others were trying to make me feel better as we grilled pork chops and corn-on-the-cob.  Reno entertained us with crazy stories about Vegas.  Liberty brought a guitar out and we had a little sing-a-long of Taylor Swift, Katy Perry and other campy songs.  Everyone was determined to keep the mood light and funny.

It worked on some level
.  I felt like a spear had been stabbed through my heart, but other than that, I sang along, laughed along and ate along with the others.  It would have helped if I could have added some alcohol to that mix, but until I was ready to let the baby go, one way or the other, I was determined to stay sober and not fuck up another life.

But getting shit-faced would have made the evening so much better.

Hours later I lay in my bed, unable to sleep.  I had left my door open in case Christopher came back in the middle of the night.  I knew he wouldn’t come to see me, but I was hoping I’d hear him go to his room.  I wanted to talk to him, just to tell him that I was sorry for not being upfront with him.  Not that I owed him an explanation, since it wasn’t like we were exclusive…or even dating.  All we had were a few nights together and a lot of sex.

Okay, the nights had been wonderful and the sex had been
amazing, but that didn’t mean anything.

At least
not to him.  For me…it had been everything.

My decision about whether or not to stay or go back to ASU had been made.  As soon as we proved that Roger was murdered, I would take my share and go back to college.  I wouldn’t need the scholarship and I would be able to afford an apartment.  After looking at the things in the envelope, I felt closer to Roger.  I owed it to him to find out the truth and redeem his reputation.  He was, after all, my father.

But I couldn’t stay.  It would be too awkward and too painful for me to be around Christopher every day.  Just as he had said, office romances never worked out.

So, I had one more secret.  I wouldn’t tell everyone of my decision to leave until the last minute.  I didn’t want them to try to change my mind.  As much as I wanted to be a part of their daily lives…I couldn’t.

I was exhausted the next morning, and I looked like crap.  I had to dig some concealer out of my makeup bag to try to cover up the dark circles under my eyes.  I knew it didn’t help that much, but everyone was too polite to mention it at breakfast.

Liberty and I rode in with Tulsa in her Ford Edge.  I didn’t feel like driving today, although I had already decided to ask Harlan if I could keep the Mini when I left.  It was such a cool little car, and it would be easy for me to park on campus.  I had already registered for my fall classes, but I would need to pay for them pretty soon, depending on the status of my scholarship.

We brought our mugs of coffee and cocoa into the conference room and found that Pam had left a box full of warm Krispy Kreme donuts for us.  I took two. 
What the heck?
I thought.  If I was going to get fat, I might as well enjoy it. One for me, one for the baby.

Dallas set
one of Roger’s boxes on the table and we took out all the scribbled songs and passed them around while Liberty dug through some of the other boxes.  Tulsa had brought her laptop in and was inputting the information into an Excel file when Christopher finally walked in.