I nodded, embarrassed but thankful for Carol’s kindness. “OK. Thanks.”
After grabbing my purse and clocking out, I headed to the elevator. Normally I’d take the stairs, but Carol was right. I was a bit tired. I wanted to get home as soon as possible.
When I stepped out of the elevator and into the main lobby, before turning to the corridor leading to the parking garage, I spotted a tall man with a bushy brown beard holding a paper takeout bag.
Dad?
He saw me then, through the big glass doors to the lobby, and came striding energetically inside, grinning widely.
A panic shot through me.
I had just found out I was pregnant with his best friend’s baby, and I hadn’t even told the father yet. I wasn’t prepared to face my own father. It was the last thing I needed.
But this was my dad, my protector, my nurturer, my rock.
“Hey, kiddo!” he said, beaming, holding up the bag and shaking it a little.
“Dad, what are you doing here?” I asked, walking up to give him a hug.
“I figured you’d be starting your lunch break and wanted to spend some quality time with my baby girl. Wow, was that perfect timing, or what?”
“Oh, OK…” I didn’t have the energy to explain to him that I had just been dismissed for the day.
“I brought your favorite, Sunny’s Deli,” he said, waggling his eyebrows. Sunny’s was my favorite smoked meat sandwich place. He used to take me there when I had half days at school, just the two of us before it was time to pick up my sisters. I developed a fondness for pastrami at a young age because that’s what my dad ordered, and I wanted to be like him.
All of a sudden, I was ravenous, my stomach grumbling audibly.
“Wow, thanks, Dad…”
“How about you go grab us one of those picnic tables outside, and I’ll pop a few coins into the machine for some sodas, OK kiddo?”
“OK.”
– – –
We sat at a table outdoors next to a grassy area in front of the hospital and inhaled our sandwiches. Hospital staff, patients, and caregivers milled around on the grass, soaking up the sunshine after the recent rains.
There was a small play area that had been recently installed, paid for by an anonymous donor, for families to use when visiting their sick loved ones. Happy children played around on big, colorful boulders. Older couples watched fondly from benches. A new mom used a nursing cover to drape over her infant as she breastfed.
My heart felt like it was being ripped in half, watching the sweet kids giggle nearby, listening to my dad’s innocent questions –How was your day? How’s work going? Do anything fun lately?– and finally I just couldn’t take it anymore.
“I’m pregnant.” The words came unbidden, and I gasped after blurting out my secret.
My father’s face fell, and his jaw dropped.
“Pregnant? Amelia…”
“I–”
“What are you talking about?”
I didn’t answer. My dad was shaking his head in disbelief.
“You’re not ready for this. You’re only twenty-one years old; how did this happen? This is going to change everything in your life. You’ve just started your career and you live with two roommates; where is the baby going to sleep? How are you going to do this?” His questions were so rapid-fire, I had no time to answer. Before I could even think of where to start, tears welled up in my eyes. My father’s face carried the weight of his confusion and worry, and finally, he asked the worst question. The question I knew had been coming all along. “Who is the father?”
I began to sob. This was not how I had imagined telling my father I was pregnant, not when I dreamt of marriage and children when I was a young girl. I had always hoped for one of those grand reveals, those touching moments like people post online where loving couples announce to their parents that they’re going to become grandparents, and everyone cries happy tears and hugs each other and celebrates the good news together.
This was not that.