Sunday Morning (Damaged #7.5)
By: Bijou Hunter
I knew I was pregnant before I missed my period, but I didn’t tell Kirk. The day I took the test, I left school early so I’d have the apartment to myself. Smoking a cigarette while waiting for the result, I paced around the apartment and heard a mental clock ticking. A positive result would be a bomb going off.
Holding the test, I cursed under my breath and threw my cigarette in the toilet. Next I cried. All of my old fears about becoming Robin resurfaced. Kirk would ditch me, and I’d fuck any man willing to give me the time of day. I’d spend my days wasting away in a trailer park while raising a kid who didn’t like me.
Except that wouldn’t happen. Even if Kirk dumped his kid and me, I wasn’t Robin. I didn’t like men enough to beg for their attention. In fact, Kirk was the only guy I ever wanted. The rest could fucking disappear for all I cared.
Crying alone in the apartment, I told myself I was capable of being a good mom. How hard could it be to be better than Robin? As long as I fed the baby, kept it clean, gave it an occasional hug, and didn’t beat the shit out of it when it pissed me off, I’d be miles ahead of most of the mothers I knew.
By the time Kirk arrived at the apartment, I had hidden the test and washed away my tears. I planned to keep this baby. Kirk and I made it, and I wanted it, and that was that.
Except Kirk might not agree, so I didn’t tell him that night.
Or that week.
Or that month.
I got into such a habit of not telling him that making my big announcement soon felt impossible.
Kirk was relaxed with our situation. He stopped all of the bitching about our ages and enjoyed my company. We were happy, and I didn’t plan to stop being happy. The truth could wait until the right time, or until the baby fell out of me. I was leaning toward the latter.
Three months after I peed on the test, I was cramming for finals. Kirk was at a club meeting and didn’t plan to be home for hours. When he finally arrived, he walked into the kitchen and returned with a beer in his hand. He took a gulp while studying me.
“Want some?” he asked.
My mind immediately flashed to the tiny person inside me. As much as I could use a little buzz, I shook my head.
Kirk nodded and then leaned against the wall. “How long have you known you’re pregnant?”
I stared at him in horror, unable to understand how he saw past my amazing deception.
“What?”
“You haven’t been smoking for weeks. You keep saying no to liquor. Plus you got that belly now.”
I frowned down at my belly and then back at him. “I’m not getting rid of it.”
“Sounds about right.”
“You’re not mad?” I asked, suspicious of his calm demeanor.
“For what? I was in charge of the condoms. I’m not gonna blame you for me failing at my job.”
Kirk joined me on the couch and patted my knee. “Hiding this from me wasn’t a very mature move.”
“Fuck off.”
Grinning, he leaned over and kissed the top of my head. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
“I was waiting for me to get through the first trimester. I read in a book I found at the library that waiting was smart.”
“So it said not to tell your man until after the first trimester?”
“Yes,” I said, fighting a smile. “I was scared you were going to make me get rid of it.”
“That doesn’t sound like me. I’m a laidback guy.”
Rolling my eyes, I muttered in my version of Kirk's voice, “I’m too old, and you’re too young. This ain’t happening, kid. Life don’t have no rainbows and pineapples.”
“Pineapples, huh?”
“Well when you start bullshitting me with the age thing, I stop listening.”
“Fair enough,” he said, holding my hand.
“I love you, and I love the baby. I’m glad you’re not freaking out, but I’m also scared because you’re not freaking out.”
“You’re having my son. That’s a good thing, Jodi.”
“It’s a girl,” I said immediately.
“Do you know that for sure because I sense it’s a boy.”
“You’re wrong. I had a dream. I’m already thinking names. I like Tiara.”
Kirk grinned. “We’re not naming our daughter something silly. Sorry, Jodi. You can run me around like your fucking bitch on most things, but I refuse to have kids will stupid names.”
“Well, I’m not naming our son Kirk Junior. I hate that stuff.”
“I’m Kirk Junior.”
“Oh, sorry,” I said, patting his hand in fake sympathy. “I should call you KJ.”
“We’ve got lots of time to talk names.”
I exhaled hard and let the realization of this moment take hold.
“I was really nervous about your reaction.”
“I know. You’re probably right to worry. I’m not used to having anyone depend on me like you do. I’ll probably fuck up a lot before I stop fucking up.”
“At least, you’re honest about it.”
“That I am.”
Kirk removed the pillow from in front of me and rested his hand on my stomach.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m hungry a lot, and I cried yesterday at school because my French fries were soggy at lunch. Otherwise, I feel okay.”
“Well, I guess we better feed you more so my boy can get big and strong in there.”
“It’s a girl, Kirk.”
“Said your dream. My gut says otherwise.”