#Jerk (11 page)

O
ne thing that doesn’t surprise me about Marcus’s kitchen is that it is a complete and utter mess. It’s midday, Saturday, and the place looks like a tornado has just blown through. My OCD is having a heart attack, desperate to grab some disinfectant and scrub the whole place clean, but this isn’t the purpose of my visit. Although I am wondering if it would be highly inappropriate to offer to clean his apartment after I tell him I’m pregnant with his cousin’s baby?

A late night drunken call from Marcus alerted me to the welcome back party being held for the Jerk and what’s-her-face. Okay, that’s mean. She’s got a face, a pretty one at that, so no need to get on that jealous horse, Presley!

According to Marcus, Haden never showed. Eloise was worried but somehow got over it and partied hard with the rest of them. Of course I know why he didn’t turn up; he was probably smashing up the city, picturing my face on every pole.

So here I am, sitting in front of the countertop as Marcus sits beside me looking like death. Dark circles surround his dull green eyes, and his skin looks pale and sickly. Even though we are indoors, he is wearing his hoodie with the hood covering his head. The sun filtering through the small window appears to irritate him and he squints his eyes involuntarily, curling his body like a nocturnal animal.

The giant curveball to this mad situation—I didn’t expect the Jerk to be here as well.

He turned up only moments ago and sent Eloise on a mission to get everyone coffee from the café a couple of blocks away. She hadn’t appeared as wasted as the rest of them, and still looked stunning after a night of partying. A mini-argument erupted after she blatantly refused to be his coffee monkey, but he managed to somehow convince her.

Haden stands against the sink, and just as I predicted, bandages are wrapped around his right hand. I probably should ask if he is okay, but that would mean I care, which I
don’t.

He is purposefully avoiding eye contact with me and is clearly still
very
pissed off, insinuating that this is all
my
fault. Well, it takes two to tango buddy, and one selfish dick to blow his load.

Earlier I had asked for a glass of water, but after witnessing how dirty the kitchen is, I leave my untouched glass sitting on the bench. I am parched, but can’t be bothered to rinse the glass out. Marcus interrupts my thoughts, questioning why the three of us are standing in the kitchen.

So, I start with the beginning—what happened that night in the alley. Throughout my recollection of the events, I honestly have to pinch myself. Here I am, standing with a guy I was fooling around with and a guy who would be my child’s father. Throw Jason into the mix and it’s like
Three Men and a Baby
. Ah, that Tom Selleck is one gorgeous fox!

Calm the hell down, Kitty. Stop sidetracking and clean up this goddamn mess you created!

The reality of the situation is that I barely know them, have no clue when their birthdays are, let alone their favorite colors. Okay, favorite color is lame, but I cannot feel any more like a stranger in this confined room. I have a better relationship with the man who owns the local Laundromat, and that’s saying a lot.

“You’re pregnant with Haden’s baby?” Marcus laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. “Honestly, what a sick joke you guys came up with.”

“It’s true. Why would I lie about this? But we aren’t together. It’s not like we were seeing each other,” I tell him, in my defense.

“You’re not together. You’re with me,” he responds bitterly, spitting out his words in haste.

Clearly I was stupid in thinking that being pregnant with his cousin’s baby was not an automatic breakup. Not being accustomed to this possessive side of him, I choose my words carefully, not wanting to rub salt into his very open wound.

“Marcus. We had our fun but the reality is, I’m going to be a mother. My priority is raising this baby.”

The Jerk crosses his arms in silence, waiting for a reaction. I look in his direction, goading some sort of help from him to save me from this uncomfortable situation. Nothing of course, even when Marcus reaches for the bottle of bourbon from the cupboard and drinks it straight from the bottle.

He wipes he mouth with the back of his hand.
“Why the fuck did you both tell me nothing went on?”

I glance aside, avoiding the Jerk. “Because it was nothing. A drunken mistake.”

“Well it’s not nothing since you’re having a baby together!” He slams his fist against the countertop.
Ouch!
It looks painful, but nothing in Marcus’s expression, aside from pure hatred, makes me think he feels a single thing.

Looking much like death himself, the Jerk is dressed in all black, and if one didn’t know his life was turned upside-down less than twenty-four hours ago, you would think he was attending a funeral. Maybe it was a funeral, a farewell to his carefree life of no responsibilities and only having to worry about himself.

Finally, the Jerk steps in. “Back off, Marcus. This is hard on all of us.”

Marcus jumps to his feet and stumbles to where Haden is standing. Head on, Marcus sways the bottle, taking another swig and throwing it into the sink behind him. The sound of the glass smashing startles me and I know shit is about to get real.

With shaky hands, Marcus latches onto Haden’s shirt and presses against him.

“You fucking knew she was with me. You fucking knew I loved her!”
He almost spits into Haden’s face.

Being somewhat sober gives Haden the advantage and he pushes Marcus off, watching him fall backwards. I reach out to help him up, and with a shrill, he laughs as he wraps his arms around me.

“Get rid of it. You can have another baby with me. We’re in love. We can get married if you want. Just get rid of it,” he demands, in a calm yet dominant tone.

Shocked at the harshness of his words, I set the record straight once and for all. “I’m seventeen weeks along. If that was what I wanted, no one would make that decision for me,” I angrily yell at him, annoyed at his lack of morals and willingness to voice them. “I don’t expect you to understand but it is happening, whether you like it or not.”

“Of course I don’t fucking like it! I love you and this is how you repay me?”

Did he really just say those words? This is getting worse by the minute. Marcus has no clue what love is. Love to him is mind-blowing orgasms at night followed by a morning blowjob. I don’t know how else to spell it out for him without being the wicked witch and breaking his heart.

Kitty is the wicked witch. Dressed in her black dress, albeit lacy and slutty, holding a broomstick and wearing a pointy hat. Her wretched laugh is echoing through the room, hauntingly disturbing as she grabs some popcorn and watches the show.

“Put yourself in my shoes for a second. I’m raising this baby alone. I’m terrified. I didn’t purposely do this to hurt you.”

Marcus turns to face Haden with an arctic glare.
“You’re not even helping her?”

“Back the fuck off. Let me deal with this shit,” Haden warns him.

I sit in silence, listening to the argument unfold before me. Like a strong force gravitating me towards my stomach, I rest my palms on top of the baby. Suddenly, the protector instinct kicks in and I can no longer sit here and listen to what is being said about this tiny human growing inside me.

“Now the baby is ‘shit’?” As I raise my voice above the incessant noise, they both stop and turn to face me. I grab my purse and hop off the stool. I think about saying a few final words but instead leave their apartment and the mess behind me.

Turning the corner amongst the other pedestrians, my cell vibrates and I contemplate reading the text. Whoever it is can wait. Finding myself a small café a few blocks down, I order myself a tea and
the
most expensive chocolate cake that ever existed. It is a slice of heaven and exactly what I need at a moment where alcohol isn’t an option.

I try calling Vicky but she is MIA, so then I call my sister Gemma. We have a long chat about everything and by the end she reminds me again that she will always be there to help me and the baby, even suggesting I move to California.

After hanging up the call, I sit for a long time thinking about my options. In five months I will have a baby to raise. Maybe moving to California isn’t such a bad idea. I need help (despite having too much pride to ask for it) and I need to consider what future I want for my baby. Even though I love the city, it may not be the best place to settle down. A child needs a home, not a shoebox apartment, which is all I can afford at this moment.

In the midst of this train of thought, there is Jason to consider. It seems like common courtesy to tell him I was pregnant, but every time I attempt to type a message or even make that call, my body will start to dry heave. One goddamn problem at a time, and he is perhaps the least of my worries.

Back at home, I avoid reading that text and dive into some housework. Cranking up the music as loud as my neighbors will tolerate, I grab a bucket and some gloves to do some major scrubbing on my bathroom tiles. When I can practically see my reflection, I decide to take a long shower and climb into bed with a good book. I keep reading the same line over and over again, and I know that I have to read that text because it’s eating away at me.

I didn’t mean it. This is a lot.

The Jerk wasn’t saying anything that I didn’t already know. Caught up in the heat of the moment, I was able to understand how overwhelming this was for him. The difference was that I had no choice but to accept my actions. This baby was growing inside of me and every minute that ticked past, I was reminded of that.

The Jerk didn’t show up at work for two weeks. When I asked Mr. Sadler of his whereabouts, he simply informed me that Haden had taken some personal time off. I didn’t question further, and our resident fairy, a.k.a. National Inquirer Clive, told me he was in Maui at some surfing gig and scouting wedding locations with Eloise.

Seriously, what a fucking
jerk.

Marcus didn’t call me, except for last Friday night when he was obviously blazed and asked if he could come over so I could give him a blowjob. It was laughable, and a polite ‘no’ was all I could give him. He then proceeded to rant on and tell me that I’m a no-good bitch and he could get better head elsewhere. That was my cue to disconnect the call, but not before he threw the apologies in and professed his love for me,
again.

Talk about being a hormonal mess—and I mean Marcus, not me.

Project
Fallen Baby
was in my hands, so I spent time tying up all the loose ends. The author would be attending our yearly publisher’s event on Friday night. It would be a great chance for her to meet fellow authors and for us to let our hair down at a fully-paid catered event. Too bad I couldn’t drink, though Clive would no doubt drink enough for the whole office.

My biggest dilemma is finding a dress to wear to the party since my belly now pops out and my current wardrobe is no longer an option. Vicky offers to go shopping with me, but her voluptuous figure fits perfectly into every dress she tries on. I, on the other hand, give up shopping with the regular women and hit up the maternity store. I expected ugly frocks, so I am quite surprised when the shop assistant shows me some fabulous evening wear.

It doesn’t stop me from feeling sorry for myself.

“You’re silly. You haven’t put on a pound apart from this little stomach forming,” Vicky tries to reassure me, rubbing my belly while cooing at the baby.

“I feel like a beached whale.”

“You think you feel like a beached whale now? Wait until the end.”

“Thanks. So much to look forward to,” I answer back sarcastically.

“It’s all part of the experience, Pres,” she reminds me.

As the shop assistant bags the items, I lean into Vicky, whispering, “My breasts are huge and my nipples…I can’t even begin to tell you what’s happening with them.”

Vicky raises her eyebrows and the nipple-talk is put on hold until we leave the store.

Having found a black cocktail dress in a stretchy fabric, I am all set and ready to go. Most of the office will attend, and Vicky is dead-set on there being some eligible bachelors she can get her hands on.