The Job (34 page)
“Yeah,
he’s here, why?” I responded.
“I
just really need to talk to him,” she said.
Eric
told me that he was going to go grab some towels and he left the room as I was
saying, “He’s kind of busy at the moment. Is it important?”
The
line was quiet for a few seconds.
She
finally answered, saying, “I just got back from the doctor. I’m pregnant. I
really need to talk to Eric.”
Already
knowing the answer, I asked, “Why do you need to talk to
him
?”
The
line was quiet again.
“Linda?”
She
took a loud breath and said, “Because he’s the father.”
That’s
when I left the room and found him wiping himself off from the sex we’d just
had.
Now,
he’s standing in front of me, asking his question into the phone, “Are you
sure?”
I
just stand there, ready to rip the phone out of his hand, but I’m stuck,
unmoving.
“All
right,” he says, finally. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, then.”
He
hangs up and I snatch the phone from his hand, yelling, “What the fuck?”
His
hands are up and in front of him and he’s saying, “It happened a few months
back, before anything happened with us.”
“Funny
how you never bothered mentioning that you fucked one of my employees,” I
rejoin. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
“I
don’t know how this happened,” he says. “We were careful.”
“Careful?”
I ask. “You don’t get someone pregnant by being careful. Did you use a condom?”
His
hesitance is not doing him any favors.
“No,”
he says, “but I pulled out well before I… you know.”
“God,
you’re a fucking idiot,” I tell him. “Were you ever planning on mentioning this
to me?” I ask.
“I
don’t know,” he says. “It only happened the one time. I haven’t even thought
about it in—”
“Yeah,
I’m sure that’ll be a fun story to tell your new kid,” I interrupt. “I need to
get the hell out of here.”
“Please,”
he says, “wait. I want to talk to you about this.”
“There’s
nothing to talk about!” I shout at him. “Do you have any idea what that’s like:
having the most intimate, mind-blowing sex you’ve ever had in your life and
immediately afterward to get a phone call saying the person you just slept with
has a baby on the way and oh, by the by, it’s with a friend of yours?”
He
takes a step toward me, saying, “Listen, I know I should have told you, but it
happened months before we ever got together.”
“Get
some fucking clothes on,” I snap. “I can’t be here right now. This is so
fucked.”
He
follows me about as far as the door, but he stops short of public nudity. All
the while, he’s calling behind me, saying, “Wait!” he’s saying, “Jessica,
stop!”
I’m
not stopping for a fucking thing.
I
get down to my car and I just sit there in the driver’s seat for a minute,
waiting for the rest of the world I was beginning to envision to crumble before
me.
Yeah,
we weren’t together when it happened and as far as I know, Linda
still
doesn’t know that we’re together.
Why
did she try to call him on my phone, though?
That’s
an easy enough answer: They didn’t even bother exchanging phone numbers.
I
feel like an idiot and when my phone rings again, I’m ready to throw it out the
fucking window, right until I realize that it might be my dad with an update on
my mom.
“Oh,
I need good news right now,” I mutter as my hands shake over my phone’s screen.
“I can’t handle bad news right now. I can’t take any more fucked up—” I answer
the phone, “Hey, Dad. Did they get the test results back?”
“Are
you okay, sweetheart?” he asks. “You sound upset.”
“Don’t
worry about me,” I tell him. “I’m going to be fine. Have you heard anything
about Mom?”
“The
doctor just came in,” he says. “It looks like they got everything. They’re
going to have her come back to make sure it doesn’t regrow, but from the look
of things, she’s going to be just fine.”
“Oh,
thank god,” I tell him. “I really don’t think I could handle any more bad news
right now.”
“What’s
going on, Jessica?” he asks.
“I
really don’t want to talk about it right now, Dad,” I tell him. “Thanks for
calling and telling me what’s going on with Mom. When do you think they’re
going to let her go home?”
“They’re
going to keep her overnight just to make sure her SATs stay where they need to
be and give her another night with the painkillers. They gave her a
prescription, but I guess it’s not as strong as what she’s getting
in—sweetheart, are you crying?” he asks.
“Yeah,
Dad,” I tell him. “I’m crying. I’m sorry. It’s just been a rough day since I
left your house.”
“Did
something happen with Eric?” he asks. “What’s going on?”
“Dad,
I really don’t feel up to talking about it right now. What’s important is that
Mom’s going to be okay,” I tell him. “I’ll call you tomorrow. I promise,” I
lie, “I’m going to be just fine.”
Hesitantly,
he responds, “All right, sweetheart. If you need anything at all, even if you
want to just talk, you give me a call, okay?”
“Okay,”
I tell him. “I love you, Daddy.”
“I
love you too, sweetheart,” he says and I hang up.
After
that, I just hunch over the steering wheel and bawl.
Drowning
in Your Sleep
Eric
She
won’t answer her phone or any of the messages that I’ve sent her. I know that I
should probably give her some time, but I just don’t want to see things with
Jessica end like this.
As
if the situation wasn’t already awkward, to put it very lightly, I still don’t
have Linda’s number and I sure as hell don’t want Jessica to have to be on the
other end of one of those phone calls again.
I
honestly wasn’t trying to hide it from her. Up until last night, it was all
ancient history as far as I was concerned.
Yeah,
I knew it was stupid going without a condom, but I figured the chances of
conception after pulling out with so much time before… but that doesn’t matter.
The fact is that Linda’s pregnant with my baby.
She’d
gotten back with her boyfriend very soon after she and I hooked up, but apparently,
the two wanted to get to know one another again before they brought the
relationship back to the bedroom.
I
asked her if she’d been with anyone else during the period of time—but she
wasn’t. It’s definitely mine.
Linda
told me that she wasn’t asking for anything, but she just wanted to let me
know. Still, the fact of the matter is that it’s my child, and I’m going to
make sure he or she is supported, whether or not I go for any kind of custody.
Custody.
Jesus.
Part
of me has always wanted to have a kid, but this has to be the furthest thing
from the way I imagined it happening.
The
store should be opening up, and I’m not sure if Jessica’s at work or not.
Regardless, I need to get Linda’s phone number. The fact that I didn’t get it
before now seems so ridiculous, but it really was just a one-time thing.
Wasn’t
there something about a boyfriend?
Isn’t
that why she called it off after that first time?
Part
of me wants to think that she’s lying about being pregnant or lying about being
mine, but the rest of me hates myself for even hoping for something like that.
Yeah,
I’ll ask her about the boyfriend, but I’m not going to try to get out of the
responsibility if it is, indeed, mine.
I
look up the phone number for Lady Bits online—the only number I had for it
before was Jessica’s personal line.
Come
to think of it, I haven’t checked my work phone since before I met up with
José, Ian and what’s his name that bailed halfway through the meeting.
That
doesn’t matter right now.
I
call the number and pray for a friendly voice on the other end of the line,
though I don’t expect one.
“You’ve
reached Lady Bits, home of—”
“Linda?”
I ask. It sounds like her voice, but I’m really not keen on taking that kind of
chance right now. As much as I’d love to talk to Jessica, this is not the
context.
“Yes?”
she asks. “Who’s this?”
“It’s
Eric,” I tell her. “I don’t have your phone number, and I wanted to make sure
that we could keep in contact.”
“Oh,”
she says. “Can I call you back in a few minutes? I’ve got a customer coming up
to the front.”
“You
don’t have
my
number,” I tell her.
“That’s
all right,” she says. “I’ll just get it from Jessica.”
“No,
wait!”
She’s
already hung up.
I
start to write Jessica another text, but decide against it. Instead, I press
redial.
“You’ve
reached Lady Bits, home of—”
“Linda,
it’s Eric,” I tell her. “Take down this number.”
She
sighs. “All right,” she says. “Go ahead.”
“All
right,” I tell her, “
it’s
555-2625. Did you get that?”
“Yeah,”
she says, “555-2625. I really have to go now. I’ve got a customer waiting.”
She
hangs up the phone and I feel like I’ve dodged a bullet. Okay, maybe not a
bullet, but at least one bb from the shotgun blast.
The
rest of it, it seems, is headed straight for me, and there’s nothing I can do
to stop it.
I
have no idea what to do here. There doesn’t seem to be anything left that I
can
do except for wait and hope for the
best.
I’ve
never been so good at waiting.
I
pull my phone back out of my pocket and dial the number.
“Hello?”
“Hey
Irene,” I say, “I don’t suppose Alec’s around, is he?”
“No,
he’s out,” Irene says. “They’re just finishing up in Jersey. He should be back
tonight, though, can I take a message for you, Eric?”
“Yeah,”
I tell her, “no. I don’t know. I’m kind of gotten myself into a mess here, and
I don’t know what the fuck to do.”
“Ooh,”
she says, “lady problems?”
“Yeah,”
I tell her, “but make that plural.”
“You
sly dog,” she says. “What’s going on?”
“I
really don’t know if you want to hear about it,” I tell her. “It has to do with
one of your friends.”
“Oh,
don’t tell me you got things going with Jessica and then decided to sneak
around with that sister of hers,” Irene says. “She really needs to stop doing
that shit. I mean, she’s pregnant for
fuck’s
—”
“Everybody’s
pregnant,” I mutter.
“What
was that?” she asks.
“No,
it doesn’t have anything to do with Kristin,” I tell her.
“Then
what’s going on?” she asks.
“I
really don’t know if I want to talk about it,” I tell her. “I don’t even know
what to say.”
“Are
you home?” she asks.
“Yeah,”
I answer. “Why?”
“I’m
on my way,” she says.
“You
really don’t have to do that,” I tell her.
“Oh
come off it,” she giggles. “I love giving advice. You should really know this
by now. Besides, you’re one of my friends, too.”
There
really doesn’t seem to be any better option on the horizon, so I say, “All
right. I’ll be here.”
“Okay,”
she says. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
Irene
does love giving advice. How useful it is, though, generally depends on how
much she’s had to drink that day and from the sound of things, she’s already
had a couple.
Before
I set my phone down, I send Irene a text, saying, “You’re not driving, are
you?”
I
wait a few seconds and then pull up her number to call, but I get a text back,
just one word: “Cab.”
Well,
this should be embarrassing.
Of
All the Clothing Stores on the Upper West Side…
Jessica
I
come into work a bit late, but I’m just glad I summoned the courage to come in
at all.
Last
night, the vengeful part of me wanted to fire Linda, but she can’t really be
blamed for what happened. Yeah, I told her specifically not to sleep with
Eric—of course, back when I said that, it was just because he was going to be
working in the store—but still, unless it happened after Eric and I got
together and she knew about it, I can’t really be too mad at her.
