When You Least Expect It (8 page)

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“What’s this?” Trav asked when he got home from the gym that night. Lainey was sitting at the coffee table, eating pizza right out of the delivery box, which she’d paid for with a twenty she’d found in Trav’s sock drawer. It was one of his favorite places to stash money, although why he continued to put it there, when Lainey just helped herself to it, she didn’t know. Maybe he forgot about it. Either way, she was glad—she’d been craving pepperoni all day.

Lainey glanced up and saw that Trav—still sweating and smelling like a gym rat—was holding the cable bill.

“It says
Mike Jankowski,”
he said.

Lainey let out an excited gasp. “You learned to read! Good for you,” she cheered sarcastically.

“Who is he?” Trav asked, ignoring her sarcasm.

“Why? Are you jealous?”

Trav snorted, and dropped his gym bag on the ground. “As if. In fact,” he hesitated, “I’ve been thinking. After you get the … well, you know.”

“You can’t say the word
abortion?”

“Fine. After you get the abortion, I think you should move out,” Trav said.

Lainey stared up at him, the pizza slice frozen en route to her mouth. “Are you kidding me?” she asked.

“Come on, Lainey,” Trav said, sitting in the La-Z-Boy recliner. It had always grossed Lainey out that he’d lounge there after working out before he’d showered. The gray microfiber upholstery was starting to smell. “This—the two of us—it isn’t working out. We both know that, right?”

Lainey didn’t know what was more irritating: the fact that Trav had beaten her to the breakup, or that he was now talking to her in a soothing, sympathetic voice, as though she might be upset. As though he had the ability to break her heart.

“Let me get this straight: I’m pregnant with your baby, and you’re kicking me out of our apartment,” she said.

“My apartment,” Trav said. “I pay the rent. And you don’t have to go right away. Stay until you have the abortion.”

The irritation quickly became a hot, buzzing anger that filled Lainey’s lungs and choked in her throat. She hadn’t planned on using her decision to keep the pregnancy as a weapon to bludgeon Trav with. If anything, she was hoping he wouldn’t interfere or do anything to screw up the adoption. But that resolve was swept away in her rage.

“I changed my mind,” Lainey said. She smiled maliciously at Trav’s look of dumb incomprehension. “I’m not going to have an abortion after all.”

The color drained from Trav’s face. “What?” he asked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m going to have the baby. I canceled my appointment at the clinic,” Lainey said.

She stretched out her legs and took a bite of the pizza. She took her time chewing and swallowing.

Trav sat heavily on the end of the couch, looking like he might cry.

“Why?”

“I changed my mind.”

“But you don’t want a baby,” Trav said. His voice was now a whine, which Lainey found both irritating and satisfying.

“Relax. I’m not keeping it,” she said.

“What?” Trav’s head snapped up, and he turned to stare at Lainey with something that looked very much like hatred. “So you’re just fucking with me? You’re lying to me?”

“No, I’m not lying. And drop the ’roid rage, I’m not in the mood. I’m going to give the baby up for adoption. That guy’s name I wrote down on the cable bill? He’s a lawyer,” Lainey said. “An adoption lawyer. I’m going to see him tomorrow.”

“But you said you
wanted
to have an abortion. I gave you the money for it,” Trav said.

Typical, Lainey thought. All he cared about was his eight hundred bucks. He’d turned into such a cheapskate.

“I’m going to use that money to hire the lawyer, genius,” Lainey lied. She’d checked that out when she called Mike Jankowski’s office to schedule the appointment—she wouldn’t have to pay a dime. But she was fairly sure that Trav wouldn’t know that, so she’d decided to add his eight hundred to her Los Angeles savings. She figured she deserved it, just for having to put up with his steroid-induced mood swings.

“Jesus, Lainey. You can’t make these decisions on your own,” Trav said.

“Why not? It’s my body. It has nothing to do with you. I’m going to have the baby and put it up for adoption. It’s not like I’m asking you to raise it or anything.”

“Why?”

“Because I think you’d be a shitty parent.”

“No, I mean why are you doing
this
. Having the baby. What do you get out of it?”

Lainey shrugged and took another bite of her pizza. “Nothing. I just think it’s a good thing. The baby gets a shot at a decent life, and some sad couple out there who can’t have a kid gets to have one.”

Trav let out an incredulous bark of laughter.

“What?” Lainey demanded.

“You’ve never done anything for anyone else in your life.”

“That’s not true! I gave Flaca a pedicure today.”

“Yeah, you’ll do shit for Flaca,” Trav admitted. “But not for anyone else.”

“Look, if I want to have this baby, I will. And there’s nothing you can do about it,” Lainey snarled. She kicked at Trav with one bare foot, but he jumped out of the way before she could make contact.

“Yeah, well, there is,” Trav said. “You can get out of my apartment.”

Lainey stared at him. “What?”

“Yeah. I want you out. Now.”

“Now?” Lainey’s voice was shrill. “Where am I supposed to go at this time of night?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” Trav said. “I just don’t want you here.”

“Then
you
should leave!”

“This is my apartment. I pay the rent. You never pay a fucking dime for anything. In fact, where’d you get the money to pay for this pizza?” he asked.

“I have a job,” Lainey retorted.

“You stole it from my sock drawer, didn’t you!”

Lainey was so surprised he’d caught on, that she didn’t rebuff his accusation quickly enough. “No,” she said finally. “Fuck off.”

Trav snatched up the pizza box. “Then this is my pizza,” he said.

“I’m pregnant with your baby!” Lainey stood, her hands balled at her sides.

“You just told me it has nothing to do with me. It’s your body, remember? So get your shit, and get your body out of here,” Trav said.

“Fine. Whatever,” Lainey said. As she passed by him, she reached out and knocked the pizza box out of his hands. Deep-dish pepperoni spattered onto the graying vinyl floor and, even better, down the front of Trav’s black sleeveless moisture-wicking gym shirt.

Lainey knocked on the door of her mother’s house. She was clutching a kitchen garbage bag containing all her possessions, which bumped uncomfortably against her shins. To make herself feel better, Lainey tried to picture herself as a television star with a complete set of Louis Vuitton luggage. The fantasy didn’t have the calming effect it normally did.

The porch light wasn’t on, although that didn’t necessarily mean that no one was home. It could have blown out weeks, even months ago. Lainey’s mother, Candace, rarely got around to such mundane tasks as changing lightbulbs. Lainey knocked again. This time, she could hear an unintelligible squawk of conversation, followed by footsteps approaching and the metallic jingle of a chain lock being unfastened. The door swung open, and a backlit Candace peered out at her daughter.

Candace was a large, blowsy woman. She had meaty shoulders and arms, and a bloated face that was bare of makeup. Her hair was her one vanity. Although it was too long and, Lainey thought, too blonde, Candace put a lot of effort into styling it—curled bangs, feathered-back sides, lots of volume on top.

“Hi, Mom,” Lainey said. “Can I come in?”

“Baby!” Candace exclaimed. She swung open the door and folded Lainey into her arms. Candace smelled as she always did: a potent combination of Aqua Net and gin. Lainey allowed herself to be hugged for a few beats, but then stiffened and stepped away.

“What are you doing here, sugar?” Candace asked. The words were slightly slurred, but still comprehensible, which Lainey took as a good sign.

“Trav kicked me out,” Lainey said. She dropped her garbage bag full of clothes on the ground. “Do you mind if I stay for a few nights? Just until I find a new place.”

Candace peered at her daughter. “He kicked you out?”

Lainey nodded. “He’s an asshole,” she said by way of explanation.

“Come on in,” Candace said, turning to start down the short hallway. “We’re all in the living room.”

“Who’s here?” Lainey asked, her heart sinking. She’d noticed the cars parked at the curb, but had hoped they belonged to one of the other houses. The street was mostly made up of duplexes, all tightly squeezed in on too-small lots, each with only a single driveway.

“Al, of course, and his friend Richie.” Al was Candace’s live-in boyfriend, and as he was a complete loser, he had a lot in common with every other boyfriend she’d ever had. He sponged off Candace for every dime he could get out of her. Candace wasn’t wealthy, but she did have a steady job at the Florida Department of Transportation that she’d managed to keep despite her drinking problem.

Lainey followed her mother down the hall, into the tiny, cramped living room. The house was a mess, littered with empty soda cans and discarded chip bags. There was a funky odor, too. A mixture of unwashed male and stale beer. Al was stretched out on a recliner, drinking a can of Budweiser. He had greasy hair that was prematurely gray and a scrawny build. His friend, who was the size of a baby whale, was lounging on the brown sofa, his feet propped up on the coffee table. They were both absorbed in the Gators game blaring on the television.

“Hey, girl,” Al said. “This is Richie. This is Candace’s kid, Lainey.”

“Hey there,” Richie said, leering at Lainey in a way that he obviously meant to be sexy. Lainey rolled her eyes. As if. Richie’s thick curly hair had receded back to display a shiny forehead, and he’d cut his sideburns into muttonchops. Behind his thick glasses, he had small, piggy eyes. She was fairly sure that he was the source of the unpleasant smell.

“You want something to drink? A beer or something?” Candace said, passing through the living room, into the kitchen. Lainey followed her, mostly wanting to get away from Richie, who was now looking at her like she was a lollipop he’d like to cram into his mouth.

“No. Just some water,” Lainey said.

“What’s this about you and Trav?” Candace asked. She stuck a smudged glass under the tap and, once it was full, passed it to Lainey.

“I’m pregnant,” Lainey said.

Candace stared at her and, for a moment, looked surprisingly sober. Then she shook her head, sighed, and sipped from a glass containing a bright yellow liquid. Gin and diet Mountain Dew—her mother’s favorite cocktail. Actually, this was a good sign, Lainey thought. She only really had to worry when her mother switched to whiskey, which she drank straight.

“I thought you were smarter than that,” Candace said.

“You’re one to talk,” Lainey said. Her mother had given birth to Lainey when she was sixteen, four years younger than Lainey was now.

“That’s why you should know better,” Candace retorted.

“I’m not keeping it,” Lainey said.

“Make Trav pay for it,” Candace said immediately.

“I’m going to have it. I’m just not going to keep it. I’m putting it up for adoption,” Lainey said.

Candace, who had been in the middle of lighting a cigarette, stopped and peered at Lainey. “You are?”

“Why does everyone find that so hard to believe?”

“You’re just not the type, I guess,” Candace said. She inhaled deeply on the cigarette and then, without removing it from her mouth, blew the smoke out one corner of her mouth.

“Obviously I am,” Lainey said. She waved away the smoke. “And can you please not smoke around me? I
am
pregnant, after all.”

Candace shrugged and continued to puff on her cigarette. “So that’s why Trav kicked you out?”

“Yep. Well, that, and the fact that he’s a dick.”

“Trav’s not so bad. Didn’t he buy you that nice handbag?”

“Yeah, he’s a real prince. So can I stay here for a few nights?”

Candace shrugged. “We don’t have any room. If you haven’t noticed, this isn’t exactly Mar-a-Lago. Richie’s got all of his stuff stored in the second bedroom. You can’t even open the door to get in there.”

“I can sleep on the sofa.”

“Richie’s got the sofa,” Candace said. “He’s staying here for a while.”

“Since when?” Lainey demanded.

“Since he lost his job and couldn’t pay his rent,” Candace said.

“Now it’s not just Al sponging off you, but his friends, too?” Lainey asked, her eyebrows arched. Her mother just shrugged. “Jesus, Mom, I’m pregnant and I’ve got nowhere to stay. Shouldn’t your daughter come before your scumbag boyfriend’s freeloading friends?”

“Watch your mouth, little girl,” Al said as he ambled into the kitchen, heading straight for the refrigerator. He pulled out two beers.

“Don’t tell me what to do, asshole,” Lainey said. She could feel her temper flaring again.

“I won’t be insulted in my own house,” Al said. He puffed his thin chest out.

“It’s not your house, it’s hers.” Lainey thrust a chin in Candace’s direction. “So I’ll speak to and about you however I fucking please.”

Al looked at Candace, who said, “Cut it out, Lainey.”

Lainey laughed without humor. “That’s right. Take his side. You always do. Doesn’t even matter who the guy is, it’s always the same.”

“Hey, buddy, you getting me a beer or what?” Richie shouted from the living room.

Al gave Lainey one last triumphant look and shuffled back out of the kitchen.

“Why do you put up with him?” Lainey demanded. “He’s disgusting.”

Candace didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. Lainey knew why. Her mother would always do whatever it took to keep a man, no matter how greasy and worthless he was.

She’s pathetic
, Lainey thought as she felt something inside of
her harden.
And there’s not a chance in hell I’m ever going to end up like her
.

“That’s it, then? You’re going to let that fat piece of shit stay here instead of me?” Lainey said.

“I just can’t kick him out without notice.”