Deep

“How dare you ruffle my hair like I’m your kid sister or something.” I dropped my empty glass onto the carpet. “How dare you?”

 

“I was doing you a favor.”

 

“Like hell you were.”

 

The man set aside his beer aside and stormed forward, towering over me. “The guy is a fucking man-whore, Liz. Nearly every night on tour he’s had a different woman.”

 

“What utter crap.”

 

“I’m not lying to you. He was flirting with you, trying to get into your pants. It’s what he does.”

 

“I’m not talking about him.”

 

Ben blinked.

 

“You and I, we are not together, remember? If I want to flirt with a guy, I will. It is none of your business.”

 

“You’re pregnant with my child.” The anger in his eyes—a smarter woman would have stepped back. Screw that. I went nose to nose with him. Well, as close as I could get to it, with the height difference. Next time we fought I was definitely bringing a ladder.

 

“That’s right, Ben, I’m carrying our child,” I said, breathing hard. “And I’m on tour to help us to figure out how to get along and be parents. Something that involves us having mutual respect for one another.”

 

“I got respect for you, Liz. What I haven’t got is the ability to stand by while some player tries to chat you up.”

 

“Oh yeah? Tell me you haven’t had sex with one of those wonderfully liberated, barely dressed ladies out there. Let me know this isn’t just some messed-up double standard you’re trying on me.”

 

He couldn’t do it. His lips slammed shut and he shifted, edging back, putting room between us. It shouldn’t have hurt, but it did. Hearts are dumb like that. At least he didn’t try to give me excuses.

 

“No?” I asked.

 

Still nothing.

 

“We’re not together. You have no right to try and warn a guy off me. And treating me like you did—like a child, ruffling my hair, calling me ‘sweetheart’ that way.…” My eyes were itchy, turning liquid. Like hell. “How fucking dare you.”

 

I should have stormed out. I wanted to. The thought of losing it in front of the cool party crowd, however, stopped me cold. There had to be an alternative. Just a few minutes and I could pull myself together, go find my room. “I need to use the bathroom.”

 

My dignity was small, about the same size as my bladder since the invention of Bean. I pretty much had to pee constantly, so it wasn’t a complete lie, despite the sudden rising damp in my eyes. Dumb hormones. Idiot men and their god damn sperm. I strode into the grandiose bathroom and slammed the door shut. A tear trickled down my cheek, followed fast by another.

 

And the girl in the mirror, she still wasn’t glowing. How fucking unfair.

 

I went and did my business in the toilet, scrubbed my hands and then my face. All of the emotions inside of me kept building up, threatening to leak out again. This situation with Ben was doing my head in. So I did what any sensible knocked-up twenty-one-year-old college dropout would do and climbed into the massive, empty sunken tub to cool down and reassess my life. It was actually quite comfortable. In the distance I could hear the party carrying on with chatter and music. You’d think an upmarket hotel such as this would have thicker walls.

 

For a good five, ten minutes I sat in there, calming myself, coming to grips with the situation. Perhaps Ben and I shouldn’t talk for a while. We didn’t have to be friends to raise a child together, if indeed that’s what was going to happen. Him changing his mind on being involved would surprise approximately no one. Harsh but true.

 

Whatever. Come what may, I’d manage.

 

“Where’s Lizzy?” asked a muffled voice in the next room, male and abrupt. Jimmy Ferris. Why he’d be interested in me I had no idea.

 

“In the john,” said Ben. “What do you want with her?”

 

“Take it Mal and Anne are busy making up for lost time. Lena thought she might like to come hang with her.”

 

“We’re in the middle of something right now. I’ll ask her in a few.”

 

Jimmy snorted. “You’re having a nice chat, huh? That why you’re dripping wet and there’s an empty glass on the floor? Try again, Ben.”

 

“None of your fucking business.”

 

“You’re right about that. It’s not. But oh well…”

 

For a moment there was nothing, during which I strained to hear something, anything.

 

“Man, you are fucking shit up with her so damn bad,” said Jimmy, breaking the silence. “One way or another, this girl’s going to be in your life from now on. Way you’re playing it, won’t be in a good way.”

 

“What do you know about it?” growled Ben.

 

“What do I know about fucking up things with girls? You serious?”

 

No reply.

 

“How many times you talk to Lizzy in the last month?”

 

“We talk.”

 

“Not face-to-face or I’d have heard about it from Mal. Another fucking mess you’ve failed to fix.”

 

“I’m working on it,” said Ben, his voice full of anger. “I’ll smooth shit over with him.”

 

“Believe it when I see it.”

 

“Don’t lecture me on messing with the band. Where the fuck were you that last practice session before Seattle, huh?”

 

Jimmy scoffed. “Taking Lena to see her obstetrician. Do you even know what the hell one of them is?”

 

“Of course I fucking do.”

 

“Yeah? You taking Liz to her visits? Looking after her? ’Course not. Because if you were, every other member of this band would have a shitload more respect for you than they got right now.”

 

“We were heading on tour,” said Ben.

 

“Some things are more important, man. Take looking after the woman carrying your child, for example.”

 

“Jim—”

 

“How many times have you even called that girl since we’ve been on tour?”

 

“What the fuck? You a relationship counselor now?”

 

Jimmy laughed. “My woman isn’t throwing drinks in my face, so as far as you’re concerned, I might as well be.”

 

“She’s not my woman.”

 

“She’s the girl you put a baby in, asshole. And if she’s been going through half the shit Lena’s been dealing with, then you are just about the lowest cunt I’ve come across in a long time for making her do it alone.”

 

Guess Ben had no answer to that.

 

Have to admit, I felt bad for him. He loved these guys like brothers, and I’d been coping okay on my own, give or take. And yes, I did feel a little guilty for listening in on the conversation. Given that I was the topic, however …

 

“The baby’s got her moods bouncing all over the place. One minute she’s depressed as hell, worrying how we’ll deal with this, sure things are gonna go to shit and I’ll leave her. As if. Then the next, everything’s great and she’s excited again about becoming a mom.”

 

A pause.

 

“It’s hard on her, man, all the changes. And it’s scary as hell to be facing, I know.”

 

“Jim—”

 

“No. Just shut up and listen. I’m nearly finished.” Jimmy exhaled roughly. “None of us planned this. But you need to drop out of the running for dickhead of the year and get yourself sorted out before it’s too late.”

 

“Okay. I’ll talk to her.”

 

“Think, Ben. Just think. How the hell are you going to explain this to your kid in five or ten years’ time, hmm? That your baby momma doesn’t talk to you because you spent her entire pregnancy hiding behind a bottle and getting blown by groupies?”

 

My stomach contracted sharply. There we go. I knew he’d been with other women, of course. It still hurt, however.

 

“It’s not like that,” yelled Ben.

 

“It’s exactly like that. Give me a fucking break, dude. Just because I don’t come to your nightly soirees doesn’t mean I don’t know what’s going on here. Hell, anyone can see it.”

 

Silence again from Ben.

 

“I don’t know if you want her or not. But I’m telling you now, you’re gonna lose her, and you’re gonna lose your kid, and any shred of self-respect you might still have along with them. Your parents were useless, same as mine, so you know what it’s like. Get your shit together.”

 

The bedroom door opened, the noise from the party coming in clearer.

 

“Lizzy wants to hang with Lena, just bring her on over. She’s welcome any time.”

 

Ben didn’t reply.

 

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