Of course, he did. Dad can’t deal with anything. Nothing at all. “What do you need from me?” I’ll do fucking anything so that that baby stays a Meyer.
“Adopt the baby.”
From the outside that’s a fucking strange request. After all, the baby is Dad’s too, but Sandy and I know why Dad said to call me. He can’t look after an infant. He only has the capacity to look after children part-time. Children aren’t a part-time gig. Rage courses through me. I’ve never been mad at Dad, ever. Even when some pretty shitty things have happened as a result of the way he is and because of his damn incompetence as a parent. I think I understand some of Rachel’s outburst now. I’ve stepped up and stepped up and stepped up. I’m not even mad that I have to now.
I’m mad because he’s such a fucking coward.
I know my answer without having to think about it. “I’ll adopt the baby and they’re fucking mine.” Dad isn’t having this one.
“That’s what I want, Mercy. I want them to be yours and well, if you end up with someone, it would be nice if they were theirs too, but it’s not a requirement.”
Shit. My someone else. Idohave a someone else now. A twenty-four-year-old with his whole life ahead of him who barely wanted a boyfriend. Will he want a boyfriend with a kid? I’ll have to find out later.
There are a lot of things to find out later. Like, how am I going to keep my full-time coaching job and look after a newborn? Fixing cars is still doable if I run a business out of my home garage, but coaching? Fuck. I’m not sure. And I can’t quit my coaching job since the whole reason I got it was to afford another human.
“Dad’s also getting a vasectomy.”
“I agree that he should, but you’ll have to take that up with him.”
Oh, I fucking will. At this point, I’m ready to drug him and pay off a doctor to do it in my living room. Let him wake up in a bathtub full of ice just to scare him.
In an instant, Sandy goes from being my dad’s girlfriend to the mother of my child—even if she has no wish to be a mother—and I’ll look after her as such. Financially and emotionally anyway.
“What do you need from me in the meantime?”
“Nothing, Merc. This is enough. I know you need your coaching job. Just worry about that and I’ll make sure your babe is fine.”
“You must not know me very well, Sandy.” I’m not like dad or mom in this regard and if you’re in my care, I’m going to know everything about you. I don’t know where I get it from. Maybe the protective streak over what’s mine developed from having to pull everyone together and keep everyone together at a young age. I’m still not quite over “losing” the baby if I’m honest, even though the losing wasn’t real. The frantic buzz is still coursing through me.
“Fair. Okay, I’ll let you know if I need anything,” she says.
“Appreciate that. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Maintaining a standing posture requires several deep breaths once I’m off the phone. That’s when Jack chooses to prance into my condo. He’s got the key that I gave him. Or did he steal it? I lent it to him, and he never gave it back. Nor have I asked.
“Fuck, Merc. You, okay? Did the Vancouver Orcas already get kicked out of the playoffs? Figures. Only they could get axed before the playoffs even start.”
Vancouver’s still our favorite NHL team even if they’re in time-out for whatever shady shit happened. It’s not the team’s fault.
I might as well tell him. “No, I’m … well I’m having a baby, I guess.”
Jack raises his brow. “There’s just no way there’s enough spunk left in you to impregnate someone when you’re done with me. Who’s giving you a baby? Or fuck, is it me? Am I pregnant, Merc?”
In the middle of hell, Jack’s still able to force my lips into a smile. “You’re not pregnant, chucklehead.”
I tell him about the call I just had.
He shrugs when I’m done.
“A shrug? What the fuck does a shrug mean, Jack?” This might be the first time I’m annoyed with him for real.
“Whoa. Not that I don’t care, but I guess I already figured that baby would be yours anyway. Sorry if that was a dick assumption.”
“I figured you’d have more feelings about it. I’m going to be a dad now. You barely wanted to date me before I was a dad. Do you want someone with a child?” I’m fucking heated and mad at him for something that he has every right not to be involved in. In other words, I’m preemptively mad at him for leaving me over this.
What the hell is wrong with me?
He loses some of his calm and cool Jackness. “Kay, double whoa. First of all, you already have like eighty kids, Merc. You’ve been a DILF since I met you. You drove me to your house in a soccer mom van, remember?”
