Sheblinked at me through her judgment and doubt, but I wasn't going back on myplans. Because the apartment that was once perfect felt way too small, and Ifelt way too alone.
Chapter Four
Myfeet moved with a mind of their own, carrying me through the streets andavenues of bustling shops, street vendors, and hurrying pedestrians. I wonderedwhat had made me want to live here in the first place. It was so crowded thatthe air I craved seemed impossible to find and the smell of boiling hot dogswasn’t helping my nausea at all.
Itried to remember exactly what had convinced me to move here. If I was honest,the list of reasons still lingered in my mind, and mostly, it had been Brendan.Him and the hope that living closer together would be enough to strengthen ourrelationship. But it was also the potential inspiration that might have comefrom being somewhere else, away from my little hometown on Long Island. It wasthe appeal of adventure, and the excitement of living in the big city. Butright now, in my current frame of mind and predicament, I seriously questionedwhat had made me sign the lease and put myself so far away from my supportsystem. Now, all I wanted was to be home, close to my parents and family, wheremy baby could grow up surrounded by the people who loved me.
Mybaby.
My.Baby.
Realitystruck hard with those two little words. I was having a baby, one that I hadhardly wanted initially, and one whose father didn't seem to want at all.
Ifelt awful.
Ifelt awful abouteverything.
Itwas then that I looked up to see the bar I'd wandered into days ago, TheThirsty Goose. It was true that I had thought about that guy and the mocktailhe had made several times throughout the vitriol this past week, but I hadnever intended on coming back. Or so I’d thought.
I'dwritten about things like this. I made my money doing it. The desperate heroinealways seemed to find herself at the very place she needed to be,in order tocatch just a glimpse of the man she couldn'tstop thinking about. It was predictable, but it was romance.
This,however, wasn't.
Thiswas my life. And although nauseous, I was also thirsty and hungry, so, I headedinside without a second thought.
“SweetHome Alabama” played loudly on the jukebox. A couple of day-drinking younggirls swayed their hips and worked their arms to the beat. They were tourists,made obvious by the matching, midriff-exposing “I Heart NY” t-shirts they wore.I walked past them, successfully keeping my eyes from rolling out of my head asthey hollered and whooped, and I approached the bar with a sudden craving forwings.
“Iswear to God, if I have to hear this song one more time,” the burley bartendermuttered to himself, as he worked a dishtowel around a pint glass.
“Nota fan of Lynyrd Skynyrd?” I asked, as I folded my arms over the bar.
Heturned in my direction and at the sight of me, his bright blue eyes seemed toget just a little bit brighter. “Hey, girlfriend, nice to see you in hereagain. Another virgin cocktail, or something harder?” He raised an inquisitivebrow with the question.
“Virgin,”I answered, reluctantly smiling as I lowered my eyes to the bar.
“So,are congratulations in order this time?” he asked cautiously.
Inodded reluctantly. “Yeah, I guess so. I …” I pulled in a deep breath, thencontinued, “I decided I’m keeping the baby.”
“Well,then. Congratulations.”
“Thankyou.”
Ilifted my eyes to watch him grab a large, wide glass. He began pulling togetherthe ingredients for the drink he'd made for me last time.Inthe midst ofhis creation, his eyes met mine with a smile.
“AndIama fan of Lynyrd Skynyrd,” he told me. “But I hate this song.”
“Youhave something against Alabama?”
“Neverbeen, so I couldn't say,” he said, dumping the fruit and ice into the blender.
“So,what’s your deal with the song, then?”
“Well,let's just say I'd like it a lot more if it wasn't played to death on that damnthing,” he groaned, as he opened the bottle of orange juice and poured.
Andas if he had planned it, the girls groaned disappointedly as the song ended,before promptly bouncing off to the jukebox to play it again.
“Wow,”I said, glancing over my shoulder as the bare-bellied girls cheered. “I seeyour point.”
