Doubts keep slipping through the cracks no matter how hard I try to keep them at bay.
What if he already has a family? Or what if he doesn’t want anything to do with me or the baby? Especially when he finds out who my dad is.
One thing at a time. For now, I hope I didn’t completely misjudge his character, and he deserves to know he’ll be a dad.
I open a new browser tab and search for flights from New York to San Francisco or Oakland and find one for next week that still has seats available that I can actually afford. I fill in all the information and wince when I press the “complete booking” button. My poor savings account will feel this trip, but it needs to happen.
My hands shake as I reach for my phone and type out a message to my dad.
I booked a flight for next week.
After a week of binge-watching TV, eating way too much takeout, definitely not getting enough sunlight, and more pity parties than I’d like to admit, I’m finally in California. I got to Oakland last night after an awful twelve-hour trip due to a long layover in Salt Lake City. Exhausted to the bone, I pretty much passed out the second I buckled into my dad’s car. When we got to their house, my dad grabbed my things out of the car, and Sharon helped me into my room, where I promptly fell asleep again.
It’s all a bit hazy thanks to this ridiculous pregnancy exhaustion that hit me out of nowhere last week. I’d read about it but thought it was a total myth. Turns out, it isn’t. Sometimes I literally cannot keep my eyes open, they just close on their own.
After a good night’s sleep, I’m relieved to find the house empty, which allows me to snatch the car keys and head out for my mission.
The aquatic center is only a short drive away, and I park a few rows from the entrance so I’m not easily spotted. I’m still not sure how to tell Ryan about the pregnancy, or my dad. He obviously needs to know about it, but does he really need to know about my dad at this point?
Damn it.
My palms sweat just thinking about it.
I glance at the clock on the dashboard. Swim practice should be over soon, so I stare out the windshield until Ryan comes out.
Five minutes later, he walks out with his gym bag slung over his shoulder, and his wet hair is slicked back. He’s dressed in a white T-shirt and black sweats which is so contrary to the suit he wore when I met him, but he’s not any less handsome. Casual suits him just as well.
He abruptly stops and turns around, and I’m ripped out of my thoughts because Ryan’s not alone.
My dad is standing right next to him.
“Oh, shit.” I slide down my seat until I’m completely out of sight.
What the hell is he doing out here? And why didn’t I notice him?
A beep comes from somewhere to my left, and I look out of my window, straight into a pair of green eyes that belong to an elderly lady. She tilts her head and peeks inside the car, her whole face scrunching together.
How nosy.
Since I don’t plan on explaining myself to her, I smile and wave.
She rears back a little bit, speaking loud enough for me to hear through the window. “Crazy people.”
She probably thinks I’ve lost some of my marbles. Which she might actually be right about.
Why are you hypothesizing what this old lady thinks? Focus.
Crap, man.
It’s like these pregnancy hormones are normal hormones on steroids, but instead of making everything better, they make everything worse.
The old lady shakes her head at me before getting into her small car and driving away.
Thank goodness.
I push myself up enough to see over the windshield to the spot where I last saw Ryan and my dad. They’re still there, but I’m not sure if that’s good or bad because now they’re glaring at each other.
They’re talking, and it’s easy to tell by their crossed arms and almost identical frowns that it’s not going very well.