“To many days and many nights chasing little bare feet through the house,” John said.
“To miracles moving us beyond celebration and into a time of healing,” I said, looking over at Jason.
I was so excited that everyone wanted to celebrate, and I smiled and laughed right along with them, but in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but feel bad. I knew that I had a right to feel however I wanted and so did Jordan, but I couldn’t fully put myself into the celebration, knowing how upset Jordan was and how badly Jason and I had hurt him. I sat there quietly, listening to Jason and his parents talking excitedly about the new baby, trying to shake the feeling of guilt I had.
Sure, Jordan had treated me terribly, and for all intents and purposes, I didn’t owe him any explanation for my choices, but that didn’t mean it was right of me to completely bash his heart. I didn’t have those kinds of feelings for Jordan anymore, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t a human being, capable of understanding when certain news should be delivered in a different way to different people. I should have sat down with Jordan and explained things better. I should have told him about the doctors I was going to and how they were already under the impression that my last doctor wasn’t completely correct in my diagnosis. With as angry as I wanted to get at him, I knew that he had cared for me at one point and wasn’t as ruthless as I told myself when deciding to divorce me. It was difficult information to handle, thinking you would never have your own children. He probably felt especially cheated now that Jason and I were expecting.
We stayed for another hour or two, talking and celebrating before my constant yawning caught Jason’s attention. He took me home, so I could get some good rest in my own bed, and though I would miss being by his side, it felt really good to be home. I went to the fridge and grabbed a big glass of juice and some fruit and sat down in the living room. I picked up my phone, realizing I had missed one incredibly important person in the announcement process. Mona.
“Hey, slut,” she answered, making me laugh.
“Hey,” I said. “I have news.”
“I like news,” she said. “Unless it's bad, then I don’t like it.”
“Guess who is pregnant,” I said.
“Hmm, Angelina Jolie? I knew that slut had a lover on the side. Poor Brad,” she said, laughing. “No? Is it someone I know?”
“Yep,” I said cheerfully.
“Dude, I have no idea,” she replied. “I could—wait. Is it you?”
“Ding, ding, ding.” I laughed.
“What? You’re pregnant?” The tone of Mona’s voice was more excited than any other time I had ever talked to her. “I can’t believe this! Are you happy? Is Jason happy?”
“We are both really happy,” I said, pleased with her enthusiasm.
We talked for over an hour after that as Mona went on and on about how excited she was. I could hear her on the other line typing on the computer as she talked about planning the baby shower, picking out furniture, and all the other exciting things I hadn’t yet had a chance to really think about. She had some crazy ideas for a gender reveal party, and I just sat back and let her get even crazier talking about everything. It was nice to have someone to talk to who didn’t make me think about all the stressful aspects of this pregnancy. Still, in the back of mind, hiding in t
he shadows was that guilt about how Jordan had found out. I couldn’t help but think that everyone should have stepped back for a second and given him a little extra room to understand what happened. I was worried he would never come around, and Jason would be left with a rift in his relationship. Our child wouldn’t have an uncle to grow up with. For all of Jordan’s faults, in the end, he was not a bad person, and I really needed to start thinking of a way to repair the damage everything had done to our relationship. If not for me, then for the father of my child.
Chapter 27
Jason
I walked into the office with a new pep in my step, greeting everyone with a good morning, and making my way to my desk. It was the first time I was this excited about being at work. There was something invigorating about becoming a father, and it filtered down into everything around me. I had a brand new purpose in life, a meaning to everything I was working for, and it no longer just affected me. Though the pressure was a lot to handle, I took it and turned it into a positive, almost a challenge to myself to be the best man I could possibly be so that I could set a good example for our child. I wanted to show my child that hard work paid off, that treating others with fairness and respect was something that should be done on a daily basis, and I wanted to provide a life for my new family that was more than ideal. I wanted to never need for anything and only want for something out of choice, not out of necessity. But still, sitting down in my office chair and staring over at Tiffany, I couldn’t help but notice she had been acting weird since the night before at my parent’s house.
Jordan had been an extremely important part of Tiffany’s life, and she was revealing to him that she had acquired a dream with someone else, the dream that happened to be what split them apart in the first place. I understood why Tiffany felt we should have sat down with Jordan and really explained things, instead of including him in with the celebrations, understanding that it may not feel like an exciting thing to him. He wanted children of his own. He had the understanding of pride and accomplishment that went along with having your own family, and he had made a decision, not based on love but based on those wants, that had left him alone. He had to stand on the outside and watch his ex-wife become pregnant by another man, the thing that kept him from staying with her in the first place. I couldn’t even imagine how hurtful and angering that must be for him. However, having given him that due respect, there was still no reason for him to act and behave the way he did toward her at my parent’s house. He had said some horrible things to Tiffany, and everyone noticed that it really did affect her. I tried to talk to him, but by the time I got out there, he was racing off in his sports car, waving his hand at me as he passed.
I looked over at Tiffany as she sat at her desk, going through files and typing on her computer. She had been very quiet during the celebrations and had insisted on sleeping at her own house the night before. I wanted to keep her close, but I also understood I needed to give her space when she was feeling overwhelmed and understand that I couldn’t fix every single issue she had. Still, I couldn’t help but be worried at how withdrawn she had gotten after Jordan’s outburst. I could tell there was more going on in her head than what she was saying. What I didn’t know was whether she was just hurt or if she really felt bad for getting pregnant with me and not him. I was trying to be as understanding as I possibly could. This had to be a bit confusing for her on that front. However, as I sat there watching her sullen face, I started to worry that I was going to lose her. I had this perfect picture of our lives, with her as the wonderful and amazing mother and me as the doting father, but those were my dreams. I really wished she would talk to me so I could head off whatever might be coming from the thoughts going on in her head. I loved her more than anything and the thought of losing her and the baby was so crushing, it almost made it hard to breathe.
After about an hour, I got up from my desk and went looking for Tiffany. She had left her office earlier and had yet to come back. I didn’t want to smother her, but seeing as she was in a bit of a fragile position, I couldn’t help worrying about her. On top of all of that, I knew there was something going on in her head, and I wanted to get to the bottom of it, for her peace of mind and mine. I needed her to know that whatever she was feeling, she could talk to me about, even if it hurt me, and even if I had to open my mind to a broader perspective. I felt like she was pushing me away at every single turn. I walked into the break room and smiled, watching her standing in front of the coffee machine, her cute little dress blowing back and forth as she moved. She reached up for a cup and poured some coffee into it.
“Are you allowed to have coffee?” I asked the question in the nicest tone possible, truly unsure of what was allowed.
“Yeah,” she sighed. “My doctor said I could have up to 100 mg of caffeine per day, so one cup of coffee isn't going to hurt. Especially since we stock the office with the crappiest coffee we can find.”
“I always thought it was punishment.” I laughed, walking over next to her. She smiled at me and looked back at her cup, stirring it slowly.
“Hey,” I said, putting my hand on hers. “Are you okay? You’ve been acting strange ever since last night.”
She sighed and looked up at me, tears tugging at the corners of her eyes. I turned her toward me and pulled her in close, rubbing her back with my hands. Whatever it was, I needed her to get it off her chest and let it out, even if it was something I couldn’t fix.
“I feel terrible,” she said, pulling away. “To be completely honest, the way Jordan reacted last night made me feel absolutely horrible. It wasn’t what he said as much as how much pain I could see in his eyes as he looked at us. I wish we had pulled him aside and really explained what happened. I think we were reckless just including him in the announcement. How could we possibly think he would be happy for us? No, he didn’t act on the best choice possible, but it’s Jordan we’re talking about here. We all know he lashes out when he’s hurt by something. I feel awful for being so negligent with his feelings. I really felt like it made us no better than him. It was almost like we did it on purpose to make him feel terrible. If you look at it from his perspective, you have everything he was trying to create and with the woman he tried to create it with.”
“Baby,” I said kissing her on the forehead. “I know you feel guilty, and I would be lying if I said part of me didn’t completely agree with you, but you have to remember what happened. He left you, without giving anything a second opinion, a second look, or really understanding anything about what was going on. He didn’t want to stick around when things got even the tiniest bit rough, so to me, his pain is brought on by his own regret. I agree, maybe we should have handled it a better way, but are we going to have to tiptoe through the rest of our lives so that Jordan doesn’t get his feelings hurt? Where does it end? Do we not invite him to our baby’s first birthday party? Do we continue to hide our feelings for each other for the rest of our lives? You cannot put this on yourself.”