Maybe Baby (24 page)

Read Maybe Baby Online

Authors: Kim Golden

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #African American, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Contemporary Fiction

BOOK: Maybe Baby
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"You have to come out with us tonight." Johan perched on the edge of my desk. "Shut down your computer. Chop, chop! And text your hunk, tell him you've got a date with your GBF."

"
So you're my GBF now?"I laughed as I did what was ordered. "This is such an honor. I thought you were here just to torture me with always being late with brainstormings and creative ideas."

"
You are such a bitch sometimes," he said in mock horror. "Come on, Marius and I want beer, and we want to ogle some of these hot Danes. And we want to hear about what's going on with you."

"
Wait. I'm supposed to meet Ingrid. Is it okay if she joins us?"

"
Yes, yes. Just hurry up," Marius grumbled from the door. He was shrugging into an expensive-looking black overcoat. I was sure I'd seen it in the New Designers section at Illum. "Is she single?"

"
No, she's very married."

"
Fuck it, she can come. I can flirt with her until a singleton comes along."

"
You are so chivalrous," I teased. I sent two texts very quickly, one to Mads, the other to Ingrid. Ingrid answered in record time. She would meet us there. Mads was slower to answer, but he texted that he had to run an errand and that I should have fun with my workmates.

"
Is your hottie coming?" Johan asked.

"
No, he said he had something to do."

"
Cryptic," Marius mused. "I like it."

I rolled my eyes at both of them and put on my coat.

We ended up at a bar near Nyhavn. Marius ushered us in and said, "Trust me, this isn't a tourist trap. I've been here a few times."

"
It's my round," I said as soon as Johan drained his glass. Marius and I had been waiting patiently for him to finish his beer. I scooted out of the banquette, and then gathered our now empty glasses. "The same, or you want to try something different?"

"
Same for me," Marius said. He tapped his pocket. "I need a smoke. You coming with me?"

I shook my head.
"I'm trying to quit." 

Which was difficult. I loved everything about smo
king, but Mads didn't smoke inside and I hated standing outside in the cold, shivering for the sake of a cigarette. And it was one of those wet, frigid nights. My feet were still cold from walking in the rain in ballerina flats. Niklas was right. I wasn't the most practical person. I ought to have a pair of stylish Ilse Jacobsen wellies, like all the other women here.

"
Johan? You coming?" Marius asked.

"
I could murder for a fag." He chuckled, and then the two of them headed for the door.

I went over to the bar and placed our order. The ba
rtender was an Australian girl who didn't speak much Danish. I switched to English and she smiled in relief. "Thank God—are you a Yank? You don't sound like you're from around here."

"
I'm American," I told her as I watched her pull our pints. "I'm just working here. Well, working and living here."

"
Cool! Are you a love refugee too?"

"
A love refugee?"

"
Yeah, you know. You came here for love?" She set the first of my pints on the bar. "That's what I did. Came here for a Danish guy I met on my gap year, and I'm still here."

"
Something like that." I grinned at her. "I was in Sweden first, with a Swede. Then I met a Dane."

"
They know how to get us, yeah?"

I nodded and laughed. She set my other pints on the bar and asked if I needed help carrying them. I was about to answer no when the door to the bar opened and Mads walked in. I lifted my hand to wave, but his eyes swept past me and then he nodded at someone I couldn't see and waited. The bartender asked me again if I nee
ded help. I shook my head and straightened my shoulders. "I'm fine. I've got this."

I managed to get the pints to my table without spil
ling and set them down. Johan had just returned and was hanging up his coat. "Fucking cold out," he muttered. He rubbed his hands together and then looked around. "Where's your guy? I saw him outside."

"
He's here somewhere. I don't think he was looking for me, though." I nudged his beer toward him.

Johan caught the sharpness in my tone.
"Laney, don't jump to conclusions. Maybe he's meeting a client."

That jarred me even more. Johan didn't know Mads had been a sperm donor.
"I'm not jumping to any conclusions. I'm just stating the obvious."

"
No, you're jumping to conclusions. Just like you did that time with Niklas."

"
Stop, Johan." I warned. "You're treading on thin ice now."

"
Well, you did."

"
No, I didn't. He was fucking his ex-wife," I reminded him tersely. "I didn't imagine it. He confessed, remember?"

"
That doesn't mean Mads is fooling around." He tried a different tactic. "Now, did I tell you I found a great new flat?"

I shook my head, but I'd stopped listening. Too many worst-case scenarios were taking shape in my head. I wanted to trust Mads. I knew I should. But seeing him sitting there with another woman, watching him laugh at the things she said, the sudden smile he directed at her, it all unnerved me.

"You're right. He's probably here with some his friends. I'll just go and say hi, and then I'll be back." And I stalked across the pub, ignoring the curious looks cast at me. I just knew I needed to confront him.

"
Fancy meeting you here." I smiled a little too brightly.

Mads nearly knocked over his pint. He managed to right it before it toppled over.
"Laney...
hej
. Yeah, what a surprise."

He stood up quickly and touched my arm, but I stepped away.
"I'm sitting over there if you want to join me."

"
I'm here with—"

"
Yeah, I saw you were here with someone else." I folded my arms. My fingers clenched. "Interesting. I really hope she's commissioning you for some furniture."

"
No." His jaw twitched as he glanced over my shoulder. I turned to see who he was looking at. The woman coming towards us was plain, almost mousy, but she had that Scandinavian poise that helped even the ugliest woman exude confidence. She was so focused on Mads, she didn't notice me. But there was something in the look he gave her that made her pause.

"
I helped her… a while ago."

"
Right." Everything pulled tight inside me. I tried to push it away, this awful tightness, but it burned. He promised there would be no more of these women asking for his help. Fuck. FUCK! It was the only word filling my head.

The woman inched forward. A nervous smile flic
kered over her lips. "
Hej! Er du Laney?
"

"
I don't speak Danish." It was my standard defense when I didn't want to make contact with someone. She blinked at me nervously. Then I glared at Mads. I couldn't think of anything to say to him. My pulse throbbed. Mads tried to take my hand but I shook him off. "No, you... help your friend. I'm leaving."

I didn't explain anything to Marius and Johan as I snatched my coat and scarf from the coat rack. Mads was right behind me, trying to get me to slow down, but I shook him off. I pushed my way out of the bar and, once I was out in the night again, I picked up my pace, not caring that cold water was
seeping in through the thin leather soles of my shoes. Just another mistake.

Mads called out my name. His voice hit the base of my spine, touching all the right buttons that made me want to melt, but that red-hot ember of anger was still glo
wing inside me. I shook my head and kept walking. But there was no point trying to run from a very fit Dane. Sooner or later, they'll catch up with you. He caught my arm and forced me to stop.

"
Why are you running away from me?"

"
You said you weren't going to help them anymore. You said it made you feel dirty."

"
It wasn't that this time. She needed my help—"

"
What were you going to do, Mads? Build her a crib? You know she wants to fuck you and you lie to me and tell me you have an errand?"

"
She doesn’t want that, Laney. And I did have to run an errand, and then I bumped into her. And now you’re jumping to the wrong conclusion."

"
Newsflash: if I catch you out having drinks with another woman, I'm going to jump to the wrong conclusion."

"
Laney, just listen to me."

"
I don't even know if I want to hear any of this."

"
You think I fucked her?"

I glared at him as an answer. I didn't want to say it aloud but I was afraid that he'd given in to another one of these desperate women. I stalked away from him, craving a little distance.

"I'm not Niklas!" he shouted after me. He was still behind me, keeping pace. Damn his long legs! I started walking even faster, not caring that my shoes were officially ruined. I didn't want to hear his excuses; I just wanted to be away from him. "I'm not going to let you walk away, Laney. You need to hear me out."

I don't know why I started running. I saw the bus to
Husum stopping at the traffic light. All I could think was going to Ingrid and Anton. I waved down the bus and jumped on right before the doors slammed closed. The driver asked me if he should wait for my friend, but I shook my head, paid my fare and moved through the bus until I found an empty seat. I didn't look out the window until we were pulling away from the bus stop. Mads stood there, shaking his head. He raked his hair back and then raised his hand in a reluctant goodbye. And the look on his face broke my heart. Hot tears were already streaming down my cheeks. My hands were shaking. I tucked them under my thighs, but it didn't help. The other passengers pretended not to stare, but I could feel the weight of their curiosity. I didn't want to look at them.

Oh God... what was I doing?

 

"
What are you doing here?" Anton closed the door behind me, shutting out the raw winter air. "Ingrid's on her way to meet you..."

"
Mads and I had a fight," I said before he could say anything else. "Or...no, shit, I don't know what happened. I just needed to be around people who felt like home for me."

"
You look like hell."

"
Thanks, Anton. I really needed to hear that."

"
Look, go in the living room and warm up by the fire. I'll call Ingrid and tell her to catch the next train back, then we'll sort out some dry clothes for you."

I did as Anton suggested and went into the warmth of the living room. Anton must have been looking forward to an evening alone. A bottle of his favorite beer from
Nørrebrø Brygghus stood on the coffee table along with a bowl of potato chips and a
Battlestar Galactica
  DVD box set.

I sank to the floor in front of the fireplace and stared into the flames.  Why had I run from him? I shrugged off my wet coat. I could hear Anton speaking in Danish to
Ingrid. He sounded more confused than annoyed with my appearance on their doorstep, and for that I was grateful. I should have stayed. I should have stayed and let Mads tell me what was going on.

"I caught Ingrid just before the train pulled into
Nørreport," Anton said when he returned with some of Ingrid's clothes. "She should be back in a few minutes."

"
I'm sorry I ruined your night-in."

"You didn't ruin it. You interrupted it--I was getting ready to see what
Adama and the gang could offer." He handed the bundle of clothing to me. "Go and change into these. Ingrid will have my head if you get sick."

I retreated to their guest powder room and changed into the clothes Anton had found--one of Ingrid's cozy sweaters, a thick pair of leggings and wool socks. When I looked in the mirror, I grimaced. The rain had washed away most of my make-up and my mascara had left black rivulets on my face. I scrubbed it away until the face in the mirror looked like a younger, less certain version of me. Mads always said he liked it when I didn't wear makeup. He said my makeup was like a mask I put on to keep people from knowing the real me.

Mads.

Sooner or later I was going to have to call him and tell him where I was. I'd have to hear him out. I tried not remember the pained look on his face when the bus doors slammed shut. What a fool I was. The tears came again , hot and furious.

"Laney, you were supposed to meet me in town—" Ingrid stopped short as soon as she realized I was crying. She stepped into the bathroom with me and pulled the door closed. She took me in her arms and rocked me the way she used to comfort her daughters when they were younger, the way my mother used to soothe me when I cried too many times over my dad.

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