Johnny Loves Krissy (3 page)

Oh god, she was going to tell them now. Johnny braced for their reaction. Here's where she told them about her plan. He fortified himself with a drink. If she thought he handled the news badly, just wait. Rule number one between Krissy and her girlfriends— no kids until thirty.

“I'm going to have a baby,” Krissy blurted. “With Johnny's help.”

The beer in Johnny's throat slid down the wrong pipe. Coughing and pounding his chest, he whispered, “Rephrase and explain.”

Krissy laughed and turned to the group. “We've already clarified that you and I aren't fucking.”

“What?”

“Why?” Shelby and Casey asked simultaneously. “Are you pregnant?”

“No. At least not yet.”

“Wait a minute, Krissy,” Drew said, clutching the front of his shirt in his fist. “You need to think about this. If you want a child, fine by me, just don't fuck up the six- pack by fucking Johnny.”

Casey wagged her finger at Drew. “Not that I think Krissy and Johnny sleeping together would be any of our business, because it wouldn't. But I don't see how it would be much different than Ryan and Shelby. In fact, they'd probably be good for each other.” Casey was the responsible one of the group. Wearing her hair in a conservative bob, subtle makeup, she wanted to land a Fortune 500 man when she finally decided to settle down. Until then, she dated selectively.

“Yeah, until Johnny falls in love with Krissy,” Drew said. “The
wood girl
doesn't do love.”

Krissy slapped her hand on the table. “It's a moot point. I asked, and Johnny isn't up for the job. We're friends and he doesn't want to screw that up any more than I do. So you don't have to worry about the gang breaking up. We're all practically family.”

Actually being
up
for the job wasn't the problem. Johnny did his best to ignore the conversation, watching the people on the dance floor instead. Fall in love with Krissy? Too late. He hit that mark in ninth grade. By the time he was a junior in high school, she was the star of every one of his wet dreams.

“Remember the nursery rhyme,” Ryan said. “Krissy and ‘someone’ sitting in a tree. K- I- S- S- I- N- G. First comes love,
then
comes marriage
and then
comes the baby in the baby carriage. You don't have any of those things. Shopping for a dad for your kid isn't supposed to be like a trip to the mall for a new pair of shoes. Kris, you can't return a kid because it doesn't fit.”

“I know that. Do you think this was an impulsive decision or that it was easy? It's now or never. I saw the doctor. My endometriosis is getting worse. There won't be another laparoscopy for me. Next time, I'm having a hysterectomy. Six months from now, I'm not going to have a choice.”

“Oh my god, are you sure?” Casey asked. “Couldn't you go on the pill? I heard that helps.”

“My disease is too advanced. I'm not taking the chance. I talked to my mom. She got emotional about the fact that I'm her only child and her only hope of grandchildren. I know what you're going to say, and I agree. I'm not getting pregnant for her.
I
want to be a mother.”

“I can't believe it,” Casey said.

“It's true,” Johnny said with a note of sarcasm to his voice. “It isn't a joke.” No, there was absolutely nothing funny about Krissy searching for a man to take her to bed. This wasn't sex for sport, but rather procreation, permanence, and a family.

“Exactly what is
good daddy material
?” Drew asked. “Most men who come to bars are looking to get laid, not audition for
let me be your baby's daddy
.”

“Getting laid is all they need to think about. Leave the rest to me. He looks good,” she said, indicating a man on the other side of the dance floor. “Johnny?”

He looked in the direction Krissy gave a slight nod. Blond hair, decent build, dressed nice, so he could be as good as the next guy. How in the hell was he supposed to decide? “What do you want me to say, Krissy?”

“I don't know. I know I'll never have a Mr. Perfect. Can you think of another solution?”

“No, so I'm sure he'll stud himself out to you. Looks like he's having a good time. Does he have a job? Does he have mental illness in his family? Hell, he could be sterile. Go find out. Bring him over and see if he meets your minimum basic requirements.”

Her eyebrow rose at the challenge, and her mouth did that incredibly sexy thing when it curved up on the left side. “Fine.” She adjusted her shirt to reveal an enticing amount of cleavage and fluffed her hair.

“Wait.” Casey put her hand on Krissy's elbow. “The bar might be the best place for an easy pick up, but I don't think this is fertile hunting ground for the kind of man you want to father your baby.” She held up her beer bottle. “A toast and a wish to Krissy, to being brave enough to make this decision— ”

“Or stupid enough.”

“Shut up, Drew.” Casey didn't break her cadence. “Here's hoping you find more than you expect, a great guy who'll end up being supportive, but not controlling.”

“A guy who'll want to help and have the money to do it,” Shelby added.

Ryan picked up his drink. “Here's hoping he never finds out you tricked him.”

“And if he does, he isn't pissed off. Because I know I sure as hell would be.” Drew didn't wait for the toast to finish. He tipped his beer and drank.

“To finding a man who could be your best friend.” Casey ended the toast and everyone clinked longnecks together.

Nausea rolled in Johnny's stomach. Krissy had a best friend. He wasn't going to toast someone else coming in and replacing him. If he was filling the role of best friend then some nameless donor could be dad. “Why don't you go to a sperm bank?” he blurted.

The table grew quiet. Everyone looked at him.

“What? It would be a hell of a lot safer than picking up Joe Blow at the bar. At least they test the men for disease. You'll get a complete dossier. And you wouldn't have to sleep with him.” And no one would interfere with their relationship.

“It also costs more money than I have.”

“You think kids are cheap?” Johnny asked.

“No, I don't.” She gave him a steady glance. “You still don't really know what you're buying. I'll agree that I'm not going to find him here. Tomorrow I'll get my game on and make a plan. Where else is a good place to look?”

“You mean
shop
and the answer isn't at the mall,” Ryan said.

“Very funny. I'm serious.”

“Do you want to go to the gym with me? I know you can find a good guy there.” Shelby leaned into Ryan and playfully punched his over- inflated biceps.

“I've got to study tonight.” Johnny stood. “I'll catch you all Sunday for brunch.”

“Wait.” Krissy tugged on his shirt. “There's a demolition derby at the fairgrounds tomorrow. Want to go?”

He must have been fifteen the last time he went to the derby. Junk cars, mud splattered T- shirts, good family fun at the fairgrounds. Not the setting for Krissy to continue with her plan to find a dad for her baby, the men at the derby had their kids in tow. Perfect. A night just like old times, old as in less than a week, before her plan for conception.

Maybe he could plant a seed of doubt. He worried about her. What she planned was a one- night stand to last a few weeks until she conceived. Men lusted after Krissy. It wasn't her fault. Her appearance, bubbly personality, and great sense of humor were impossible to resist. In truth, she had just as many female friends. Unlike girlfriends, Krissy didn't keep male friends close. They inevitably wanted more. He groaned and leaned back in the chair. Only he was smart enough to keep what he wanted hidden.

Krissy sat next to Johnny in the cab of his truck. She shifted a glance in his direction then smiled. Her pink T- shirt stretched across her breasts. She inhaled, pulling the shirt tighter. His gaze wandered lower. She wore a pair of white Capri pants to hug the contours of her thighs. Even her toenails were hot pink, poking out of cork wedge sandals. His gaze roamed back up her body until his eyes met hers. She curled her lips in a grin letting him know she'd busted him staring. Johnny dragged his finger under his lip, pretending to wipe away drool.

He turned his attention to the road and drove them out to the fairgrounds just outside of town. The glare from the setting sun in the west reflected off the other automobiles on the old highway. Almost as intense was the glare glinting in Johnny's eyes.

She needed him— always would. If not him, who did he think was going to teach her son to play ball? Johnny would also be great with a little girl. Look how well he handled her over the years. Krissy tended to jump in with both feet and then remember she didn't know how to swim. Johnny— the life preserver— always saved her. Life was better with him around.

“Am I getting the silent treatment?” she asked.

His shoulders visibly slumped. “No.” He turned to her and smiled. “Sorry, I want to enjoy tonight, just the two of us.” He reached over and took her hand. “Can you make me a promise?”

She nodded.

“Just for tonight, will you put aside your search?”

Her search? Yes. Her plan? No. It was hard for her to explain to Johnny what she didn't understand herself. Something had snapped inside her when Dr. Hart said she wouldn't be able to have children. In a few years, mentally she'd be ready. However, by then she'd have had a hysterectomy.

Krissy listened to the experts. Two parent families were best. Now or never rang through her ears again. She had to show Johnny they could maintain their friendship and have a baby. That just might take her showing him that all other men were Mr. Wrong.

“Let's just see what happens,” she said. “I'm not stupid. I'm not going to take a string of men to bed.” No, she just wanted Johnny. “When I finally get pregnant, I will know who the father is.” And so would he. “The man I want has to be perfect.”

Johnny parked his truck in the grassy lot adjacent to the fairgrounds. He walked around the front of the truck and opened her door. He blocked her exit, bracing his hands on the top of the vehicle's cab. “No matter how much
you
plan, you can't predict how another person is going to react.”

She squeezed around him. “I can't worry about what I can't control.” She started to walk away.

“I guess the subject is dropped.”

“Yes, because we're going to have fun.”

Winding their way between cars, they approached the entrance gate. Mostly the derby attracted couples on dates, some families. She linked her arm through his. “I want pink cotton candy.”

A few minutes later, they had found their seats and the first round of cars made their way into the dirt- covered arena. Pieces of junk that barely ran with names, such as Destroyer and Terror Truck, spray- painted on their sides lined up on the field. The announcer introduced the drivers and encouraged the crowd to scream and holler for their favorite. Krissy cheered when a purple station wagon backfired, flames shot out from under the hood and black smoke billowed from the tailpipe.

“The Purple People Eater is mine,” she said, latching onto Johnny's shoulder for stability and stood on the bleachers. She pointed to the field. “Pick your car and let's make a bet.”

“I don't know.” Because the stands were full of screaming fans, he stood to get an unobstructed view. “It seems to me the crappier the car looks, the better it does. I'll take the piece of shit on the end. What's the prize?”

Krissy touched her tongue to her upper lip. “If I win, I want a piggyback ride to the car after the derby. What do you want?”

“Chicken enchiladas tomorrow night at your place. Only this time, could you make more than two?” He shook his head while he sat.

Like her history with men, her kitchen record wasn't perfect. Casey's mom had told her about this great recipe with sour cream, cream cheese, shredded chicken and cream of chicken soup. How was she supposed to know how much to use? That wasn't included with the recipe. After hours of planning and preparation, she'd gathered the six- pack. Too bad her meal only served four. Barely.

“You got it.” She hollered with the crowd and then turned back to Johnny. “You really like my cooking?”

“You've had your moments.” He put his hand on her waist while she stepped from the bleachers and then Krissy plopped down next to him. “There was the Spaghetti- O thing.”

“Anyone could make that mistake.” Taking a piece of cotton candy out of the bag, she stuffed it into his mouth. “I thought it was like Campbell's Soup. I didn't realize I wasn't supposed to add a can of water.” Johnny ate the candy. She licked the sugar from her fingertips. “Yummy.” She pulled another piece from the bag.

“You're reading my thoughts.”

They planned the enchilada dinner for Monday around six. She should have picked Destroyer at the derby. Purple People Eater ate dirt and Johnny's pick caught fire shortly after. Technically neither of their junkers won, but Johnny claimed to be the victor since hers was the first one out.

She stopped at the grocery store for supplies before driving home. A good thing Johnny was the only one coming over. Her apartment wasn't in any condition for company. Johnny didn't count. Her apartment had a common floor plan. Open dining room and living room, but the kitchen was small and could use more cupboards. Textured linoleum flooring in the bathroom matched the kitchen. The large picture windows sold her on the place, that and the covered parking spot and because it was a one level building. She didn't mind neighbors on the right and left, but she hated having upstairs tenants.

She sighed. Earlier she'd gone to the gym, but she should've been cleaning. She should've been at work with cabinet orders to get in, and with a couple of jobs ready for installation. Not to mention the laundry spilling out of the bedroom, down the hall, and a pile waited in the bathroom.

Since her doctor's appointment, none of it had matter. Krissy was on a mission. Her biological deadline approached faster than her deadlines for work or her messy house.

Thoughts of her endometriosis triggered more thoughts of Johnny. He needed more persuasion. Dinner preparation could wait. She was missing an opportunity. Krissy grabbed her keys and headed out the door.