I frowned. “You’d have to leave West Point. You’d be giving up your education in your senior year.”
“Right.”
“And you’d have to walk away from the football team. What does that do to your opportunities to play pro ball?” Several of my father’s former players had wound up in the national league, so I knew that it was an incredibly important consideration.
“That’s a moot point,” Dean answered. “I can’t play pro ball. I have to fulfill my obligation to the Army. I owe them six years for educating me here.”
“Oh.” Again. This was news to me. “So you can’t go into the draft? Play the combine?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Let’s put that aside, though. I want to finish my football season here, but I’m more worried about my military career, which I’d lose if I tell anyone about—this.” He pointed at me, gesturing vaguely in the vicinity of my stomach. “I’m willing to do that. But if you’re not sure what you want to do—if you’re still considering an abortion or if you’re thinking about adoption—then maybe . . .” His voice trailed off.
I understood. If there wasn’t going to be any baby, or if the baby wasn’t going to be ours, it would be an absolute waste for Dean to admit that he was the father.
“I haven’t decided yet,” I said slowly. “About the adoption part, I mean. Iamgoing to have the baby, though. No abortion. But I guess I’m leaning toward adoption. Today, at least.” I managed a painful smile. “So I think . . . no, Dean. You shouldn’t tell anyone. There’s no need for you to sign papers or whatever they’d want. Just . . . just keep your life as it is.” I patted my chest. “I’ll be fine.”
Dean canted his body toward me, his face somber and his eyes intense. “Are you sure, Willow? I didn’t make that offer just to make myself feel better. I’ll do it. I don’t want to be a deadbeat or some dude who gets to live his best life while the woman he knocked up has to deal with all of the crap that goes along with having a baby.”
“I wouldn’t think any less of you, Dean. It’s just—it would be such a waste for you to ruin your life just because you slept with me one night and the condom malfunctioned.”
“Sorry for the wait!” The cheery server returned with a big tray. “Here’s your chicken, ma’am, and for you, sir, the cheeseburger.”
“Thank you.” Dean waited for her to walk away before he answered me. “Willow, I’m sorry. I’m sorrier than I can tell you—that this happened. That you’re the one taking the biggest hit. That I’m not in a situation where I can—I don’t know, move in with you, be there whenever you go to the doctors or whatever you might need me to do. I just feel so helpless here.”
I bit back the snarky reply that was on the tip of my tongue.You get to feel helpless. For me, it’s not a choice.But instead of saying it, I reached for a French fry.
“Which I know is ridiculous, because how I feel doesn’t matter one single fuck in this scenario.”
I almost dropped the fry on the way to my mouth. “It’s like you’re reading my mind.”
“Nah, it’s just common sense. And probably a guilty conscience.” Dean took a bite of his burger, chewed and swallowed. “Speaking of which, I reallyama dick. I didn’t even ask how you’re feeling right now.”
“Ah.” I shrugged. “Well, you know, there are so many moving parts right now, right? You weren’t a dick, Dean. Not really. You apologized for what happened at my house after dinner. And you’ve laid out everything to me on your end. I told you that I get it.” I grappled to think of how to express what I wanted to say. “This whole thing is crazy. I’m not judging you, because I don’t think there’s a right or wrong way for us to act or be. Believe me, I wasn’t exactly a posterchild for expectant motherhood when I found out. Or more accurately, when I finally accepted it. So I’m not keeping a checklist of anything for you, either.”
“Okay.” He finished another bite. “That’s generous of you. But you didn’t answer my question. How are you feeling?”
I laughed softly. “Today—and all this week—I’ve managed to avoid puking. That was a big problem up until then. This week, it’s just been nausea. If I can sleep long enough, it’s gone by mid-morning.”
“Ah, so the morning sickness deal isn’t just something you see on TV?”
“Not so much, no. It was wicked.” I ate some of my chicken and grinned. “Want to hear a funny story? Well, I mean, it’s funny now, but it wasn’t so much at the time.”
Dean smiled back at me. “I’m always up for a funny story.”
With not a little fanfare and embellishment, I related the tale of my interview at St. Barnabas. By the end, Dean was laughing loudly enough to draw the attention of the customers at the bar.
“In her planter?” He wiped his eyes. “Holy crap, Willow. And then you went on and finished the interview?”
“Eh.” I grimaced. “It was mostly a formality at that point. Dr. Rogers had already made up her mind when I dissed her favorite tuna salad by barfing in her fiscus.”
“I’m sorry about that, Willow.” Humor faded away. “I’ve been going on and on about my career, but what are you going to do about yours?”
I drew in a deep breath and sighed. “If I decide on adoption, it’ll just mean putting everything on hold for about a year. Maybe less, if I can start sending out feelers after the holidays and see if I can start a job during the summer session next year. If I don’t . . . then I’m not sure. I might just look for a junior professorship at a small college, one where they’d let me teach without my doctorate. Maybe I can work on that degree at the same time, if they have a program.”
“Could you do that with a baby?” Dean didn’t sound disparaging, just concerned.
“I guess I’d find out pretty quickly.” I finished my chicken and sat back. “But again, I don’t know. I’m not sure. And that’s the hardest part right now. I don’t know when I’m going to be sure. There’s no checkpoint where I have to make the decision. It’s not like I’ll hit six months pregnant and wake up with an answer.”
“Okay.” He studied me in silence for a long moment. “Well . . . there’s not much I can do to help you with any of this. But maybe I can be there if you need someone to bounce off ideas or thoughts. Or if you just need to throw shit fit and yell and scream.” His mouth curved. “I hear pregnant women can get a little emotional and moody.”
