Accept Me (15 page)

“Okay, Lindsay, let’s go talk. Noni, you too,” I wave for both women to follow.

“Me?” Noni squeaks.

“Yes, you.” I affirm. “We’re a team, you know.”

Noni says nothing as she follows Lindsay and I into the office. On the way in I grab the stool behind the cash register and drag it into the tiny office space.

“Okay, so Noni, as store manager, I need your help here.”

Her eyes bulge while one hand covers her mouth. “Manager?” she says softly.

“Yep. Manager.”

Lindsay smiles sweetly at Noni and I can’t help but grin too. Noni jumps from her stool and wraps me up in a hug. Cursed hormones have me fighting back emotion. I love that she’s over the moon about her new title.

“Thank you, Jo,” she gushes. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t thank me. You’ve earned it. I’d be in trouble without you.”

She pulls away from me, swiping a rogue tear on her cheek.

“Okay, enough of that emotional stuff,” I begin, then look to both women, who are watching me with a knowing look on their faces.

“Dammit! Brian has a big fat mouth!” I complain, taking my seat at Captain’s old desk. I bury my face in my hands, too embarrassed to look at them and positive I’m going to start crying.

“Oh, come on, Jo,” Noni says, “everything’s going to be fine. A baby is one of the best things in the world.”

“I promise it isn’t so bad, Jo,” Lindsay adds.

I look up to both of them. These women were both dealt shitty hands just like me, but they seem to be doing okay. Noni is practically a new woman these days and Lindsay is the epitome of resilience in the face of adversity. She lost her job and has a beautiful little boy to care for. No men in either of their pictures.

“I don’t know if I can keep it,” I admit, covering my face in shame again.

Noni purses her lips in sympathy and looks down at her hands. Lindsay just nods. I imagine Brian has given them the whole scoop on Damon and the penthouse and everything.

“Well, you just need to know that I support whatever decision you make,” Noni begins, “but don’t let fear make that decision for you. Only your head and heart can make the choice that’s right for you. Understand what I mean?”

I sigh. Noni is so good at giving advice, just like Grams. It’s how I’ve always imagined my mom would talk to me if she were still alive.
Oh my God. Does Grams know too?

“You’re so much like me, Jo,” Noni continues, taking my hand. “I remember seeing you for the first time and thinking that someone was playing a rotten joke on me or something. You came into that diner with barely any money in your pocket, looking miserable, homeless, and alone, just like I had done so many years before. Now look at yourself.” She motions her hand towards the whole of me. “You’re a gorgeous, strong, driven, business owner who’s expecting her first baby. If you and Damon don’t work out, it doesn’t change who you are and how far you’ve come.” She pauses and squeezes my hand. “You’re still you even if you aren’t half of him.”

Talking about my failed relationship and unplanned baby tugs at my tender heartstrings. I take in a deep breath and fan my face, trying to keep tears at bay. This is stupid. I never cry this much. Noni and Lindsay both laugh, knowing full well what I am going through.

“I hate hormones,” I whine.

It only instigates more laughter from the two woman who inspire me.
I wish Grams was here.
I couldn’t help wondering if Damon or Brian were bringing her by to see Noni. I certainly wasn’t, since Damon wanted me to keep my distance, but I wouldn’t put it past the old broad to make someone else bring her.

“Back to business,” I say suddenly, clapping my hands and turning to Lindsay. “Want the job? We’re going to need someone to run the register, help customers, and be willing to cover any loose ends that may pop up. Like ordering takeout for lunch.” I fake a wide grin, hoping that I’ve lifted the mood.

Lindsay’s eyes widen at my directness but she shakes her head enthusiastically. “Absolutely.”

“Want to hire her, Noni?”

Noni looks from me to her then back to me. “Of course,” she says with a smile in place.

“Okay, then. Guess you two should get to it, then. Lindsay, Noni will show you around and explain the plans for the store. If you need anything, let me know.”

Both women hop up from their seats and hurry back out into the store to do whatever Noni has planned. I’m sure coffee and Danish will be priority, knowing Noni. Food is love in her eyes and she’s happy to dole it out to everyone in our screwed up inner circle. It’s all she knows. Good food and great advice. And I love her for it.

With so much to think about, I open the browser on my computer and pull up the search engine. I have to decide what the best choice is for me and go for it. It hurts to think of myself ten or twelve years down the road with no Damon and a pre-teen that looks just like him.

It’s not a life I think I can endure alone. I have a train wreck of a life and bringing a child into this is just not fair to the baby. What right do I have to screw up this kid’s life before they even take their first breath? I need to explore my options and sleep on it.
Adoption? Abortion? Keep him?
I don’t have the slightest idea why I would think of the baby as a
he,
it’s just kind of the direction my brain went.
He. Him. Baby Damon Cole.

About a million and one results come up when I search key terms: pregnancy, abortion, adoption. My mind is swirling. I’m overwhelmed. There’s a veritable sea of information out there and I’m just trying to stay afloat.

Adoption seems like a really good option, but I can’t help but wonder how hard it would be to give up a baby that I would have carried for nine months. I feel like I would feel a bond with the baby that would be too strong to actually go through with giving
him
up. What if I go through the entire pregnancy preparing myself to sign my child over to adoptive parents and then I back out? I’d feel terrible for doing that to people who are likely very deserving of a child. Then again, what if my baby were to end up being adopted by some monster? I know that adoption agencies are generally very thorough, but you never know. What if I found myself in the nightmare that Noni’s negotiating right now—finding out somewhere down the road that someone abused my child and helpless to rectify the situation? There are just too many possibilities.

If I went with adoption, I’d always wonder where my baby was and who he was with and if he was happy and healthy. Adoption scares the shit out of me and makes my heart ache in a completely different way than it aches for Damon.

Abortion doesn’t feel any better. In fact, it feels worse. My hand drifts to my stomach instinctively, ready to guard this little human against anything. Against everything. But what if my baby needs guarding from me? What if I’m doomed to wreck everything I touch, including my innocent child? The prospect of that makes abortion sound less scary and more like an option that needs further exploring. How do they abort the baby anyway? What’s involved?

I grab a piece of paper and jot down the information to the adoption agency and to a clinic that performs abortions. I’ll make my decision tomorrow. Hopefully.

I close the browser and lean back in my seat. I’m so tired.

I’m nearly to my car when I see Damon’s BMW come whizzing into the parking lot. He comes screeching to a halt and jumps out before the car is even completely at rest.

His eyes are wild and his breathing labored. “What have you done?” Damon demands, sounding panicked.

Is he monitoring my browser somehow?
Is there a tracking device in my car? How in the world would he have any idea where I was otherwise?
I’ve never seen him this way. I’m not sure what to say. I look to the clinic then back to him, feeling at a loss for words. I’m instantly ashamed that he’s seen me here and must now know what I’ve been considering as an option for myself and our baby.

“I—” Finding words prove to be more difficult than I’m used to.

“Oh my God. Fuck!” he shouts. “Josephine, you had no right!” The way he’s yelling is making me flinch. I look around to see if anyone is watching this embarrassing display. “That is
our
baby. It’s
our
decision. Not yours!” he snaps, causing me to bristle.

“What do you care? How did you find me? Go back to whatever slut you’re seeing today and leave me alone. It’s my body and therefore, my decision,” I grate with my finger pointed accusingly at him like a loaded gun.

“Brian told me you were talking about doing this.” He motions his hand towards the clinic. “How could you?” He looks defeated. All anger has evaporated and the man before me is beside himself. He looks close to tears.

“Of course Brian told you! His mouth is as leaky as a goddamn sieve. I haven’t
done
anything. I just wanted more information, okay?” I admit weakly. I’ll choke Brian when I see him. He is the biggest loudmouth I’ve ever met.

Damon’s chest rises as he takes a deep breath—
of
relief?
He steps closer to me and pulls me by the arms to the passenger side of his car.

“What are you doing?” I yell.

“We have to talk.” Damon looks around as if making sure no one has seen us and it only pisses me off even more.

“Worried Carrie may see us talking?” The bitterness in my voice speaks volumes.

Damon doesn’t respond. He just shuts my door and takes determined strides around the front of the car to his side. He slides in and turns the key, bringing the car to life. He takes off into traffic, driving who knows where.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere we can talk,” he says without even looking at me.

“Um, sure, Damon. I don’t mind going with you,” I mock his forwardness.

Fifteen minutes later, Damon puts the car in park in front of the house that should have been my home too. It hurts even being here. The first time he took me to see this place was when he proposed. I’d never been happier in my life.

Damon jumps out and skirts the car to let me out. His big hand reaches out toward me. I take it, my hand in his feeling like home. It spawns pure anguish deep in my gut. It hurts so damn much. Being away from him hurts but being so close to him, touching him, is agonizing.

As soon as I’m back to my feet, he releases my hand. I die a little on the inside the moment it’s gone. Again. I follow him into the house, where he leads me to the living room and motions for me to sit down.

I settle into the couch and look at him expectantly.

“Listen to me,” he orders in a calm voice. “No matter what, don’t ever think that I don’t want our child. No matter what’s going on between you and I, that is my child,” he points at my stomach making me feel like I’m under some high voltage spotlight, “and you can’t just make decisions with regards to him or her without me.” Damon shakes his head disapprovingly. “That isn’t right, Josephine.”

“I just thought—you acted like you didn’t want to have anything to do with me or the baby. You
left
when you knew I had just taken a test, for God’s sake! And when I saw you at Ga Tan with Carrie—”

“I wasn’t
with
Carrie. She was there with a client. I was there meeting with Mike. She saw me, came over, and asked where you were. I told her we broke up—”

“No. You broke up with me. There was no
we
to that,” I remind him.

Damon rubs the bridge of his perfect nose with his fingers. He’s frustrated. “Anyway, I explained that we were no longer together and she helped herself to a seat at our table until I told her to leave.”

“You told her to leave?”

“Yes. I had to go make sure that Andy wasn’t bedding you in my penthouse. Or bedding you at all for that matter.” He mutters the last part mostly to himself, making me wonder if he’s just being territorial or if there’s any part of him that still thinks of me as his. Stifling that smoldering ember of hope is the only logical thing for me to do. Hope has a way of ripping me apart. I won’t indulge in it ever again.

“Andy won’t be bedding me at all. Ever. I told him about the baby.”