SWNOVELS Beyond the Game: Chapter 8
Laundry doesn’t fold itself.
I set the basket of clothes on the coffee table next to me so I don’t have to completely bend at the waist to reach for them. At seven months pregnant small tasks like this get harder and harder to do. It was sweet of Rory and the other teachers at the school to hold a baby shower for me before the holiday season got underway. It’s given me time to wash as many of these new baby clothes as I can and set up some resemblance of a nursey in my second bedroom. It’s a little cramped in there but with it just being the two of us, we don’t need much space yet. Picking up the remote I scroll through the random channels on the television looking for something to watch while I fold this laundry.
“Too bad I don’t get the Hallmark Channel.”
I scroll through several news channels that I have zero interest in watching. News these days just makes me sad and with my hormones as they are, I don’t feel like crying over the latest shooting or getting all worked up over politics. I hit an entertainment channel about a day in the life of a Kardashian and roll my eyes. “Nope. Not this either.” Law and Order is on three channels at the same time and then I come across one of the local stations playing tonight’s hockey game against my home team of Detroit. A few of their names I recognize, as my brothers are big hockey fans, so I leave it on as something to absentmindedly listen to while I get work done. I don’t know what the Red Tails’ record is right now, nor do I pay that much attention to hockey, so who knows, maybe Detroit will win this one.
I’ll consider it a nice gift from home.
“Up ahead, Detroit’s Yugchenko couldn’t get to it, Redtails’ Foster and Nelson move to the inside. Foster moves to shoot but passes to Nelson and Foster takes it back,” the announcer calls, his energy and excitement building. “It’s Foster going in and he stops, locks, and SCOOOOORES and the Red Tails are in the lead three to one!”
“Oooor maybe they won’t win tonight. Get your shit together, Detroit!”
I don’t know how long I sit here folding clothes before I nod off but when my eyes open again there are two baby onesies on my stomach, the hockey game is over, and the press is in one of the locker rooms holding interviews. They talk to Chicago’s team captain, can’t quite remember his name, and then move to the next guy.
“Dex Foster, how happy are you with the stats tonight? You had one goal and one assist. Not something you see every day from a defenseman.”
“Uh, yeah. I was just thinking there are only two minutes left in the game, we better score so we can keep our lead. I didn’t want us going into a tie. It would’ve been too tight. When Nelson gave me the perfect shot I…you know.”
“You made sure to shoot your shot.”
As I fold the last two onesies and add them to my pile of clothes, I roll my eyes and snort at the interviewer who just spoke. “You just wanted to say shoot your shot.”
Finally, I raise my eyes from what I’m doing to the television, catching sight of the player being interviewed, and freeze. My chest tightens as if all the air has been sucked away and a shocking jolt zips through my whole body.
“Holy fucking shit. It’s him.” I stare at the television, my jaw nearly unhinged and my heart racing in my chest. “Ben Dover,” I whisper. “Is it really…how is this…” I squint hard at the television. “Is this even possible?”
The man I’m staring at is the spitting image of the man I spent a blissful night with in Key West this past summer. The man who gave me multiple orgasms. The man whose child I’ll give birth to in just two short months. He’s grasping a towel around his neck and his hair is wet. Either he’s that sweaty or he just got out of the shower. His eyes though. I would recognize those stormy gray eyes anywhere. And his voice…
“I had no idea you would be this incredibly tight.”
“Let me feel this pretty pussy clench around my fingers, and when they do, I’m going to clean you out with my tongue.”
It’s him.
It has to be.
How do I know for sure?
I grab my phone from the couch beside me and search his name on the internet. When I click on the image search, I’m rewarded with tons of pictures of the man I one hundred percent recognize as Ben Dover from Key West.
“Dex Foster.”
Foster.
Hmm, is it possible there’s a relation to Rory?
Nah. I’ve never heard her talk about him.
Surely if she had a celebrity athlete brother, she would talk about him.
Holy Shit. I can’t even believe this is happening.
Dex Foster.
“I slept with Dex Foster of the Chicago Red Tails.”
I glance down at my huge baby bump. “Oh, my God I’m having this man’s baby and he doesn’t even know.”
A wave of nausea hits me hard. I high tail it to the bathroom and dry heave into the toilet. My skin breaks out into a sweat and my hands start shaking.
“Oh God. How is this happening?”
I sit on the edge of the shower, my head in my hands. “How the hell am I supposed to tell him?”
No way will he believe me. Fuck, he probably doesn’t even remember me. He’s a celebrity and I’m just the first-grade teacher he knocked up. Shit. Nobody will believe I word I say. I’ll be seen as some crazy lady trying to find my own celebrity status or as someone trying to trick him into money or a relationship. Fucking hell. I don’t want that.
My hands on my head, I rock forward and back reminding myself to breathe.
Forward and back.
Breathe.
Forward and back.
Breathe.
What do I do?
How would I even go about telling him if I wanted to? It’s not like I can just drop into his DMs and say ‘Oh hi, remember me? The girl you fucked in Key West? Hey yeah that was great and now I’m having your kid so…just wanted to let you know’.
Maybe I just don’t tell him?
Not right now?
If not now, when?
After the baby is born?
What if I never tell him?
Ugh, and deny this child the right to know his or her father?
What if I tell him and he wants nothing to do with the baby?
What if he offers me money to shut up about it?
Would he do that to his child?
My phone dings with a text in the living room so I calm myself enough to leave the bathroom to see who it’s from.
Eliza: Hey babe! Haven’t chatted in a while? How are you feeling? How’s baby?
Yes! Eliza! She’s exactly who I need to talk to. She’ll tell me what to do.
Me: Call me right fucking now!
I don’t even let my phone ring when I see her name appear on my screen.
“Hey.”
“Are you okay? Is the baby okay? What can I do? Should I call someone for you? Are you in labor?”
“What? No. I’m fine. Well…” I scoff. “I’m so far from fine, but physically, I’m fine. Baby is fine. What’s going on?”
“TATUM! You do NOT text your best friend and tell her to call you ASAP when you’re seven months pregnant and could technically go into labor at any time! You scared the bejeesus out of me!”
“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, but also, oh, my God, Eliza I need to tell you something and it’s a big something and I don’t know what the fuck to do about it, so I need you tell me what to do because I am at a complete loss here.”
“Okay. Take a breath, Sis. What’s going on?”
“Remember Key West?”
“Uh, yeah…” she says.
“Remember the guy? Like, THE GUY?”
She snickers. “Ben Dover? Yeah. You didn’t stop talking about him for months. He’s the father of your baby. We know this. What about him?”
“Eliza, I know who he is.”
She gasps on the other end of the line. “Wait, whaaaat? How do you know who he is? You guys didn’t trade real names, right? Isn’t that what you said?”
“Yes, that’s what I said but I saw him tonight.”
“WHAT? In CHICAGO?”
“He’s in Chicago, yes, but I saw him on my fucking television because he plays hockey for the Chicago Red Tails!”
Dead. Silence.
More. Dead. Silence.
Even. More. Dead. Silence.
Then she chuckles. “Shut up.”
“You think I’m making this up?”
“Who is it?”
“Dex Foster. Google him right fucking now and tell me it’s not the same guy.”
I hear her putting me on speakerphone and can only assume she’s using her phone to look him up. “Ooooh. My. God,” she murmurs.
“It’s him, isn’t it? It’s totally him.”
“It’s very much him. I would recognize those eyes anywhere.”
We both say, “Stormy gray” at the same time.
“Holy shit, Tate! I don’t…I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. In a roundabout way I feel sort of responsible for all this. I’m the one who encouraged him to hit on you. He looked like your type, you know?”
“He was totally my type.” I don’t know why my chest hurts so much right now. It’s not like Dex and I were a thing. It was one night. Sure, it was one mind-blowing, larger than life, oh-my-God kind of night, but a moment of earth-shattering orgasms doesn’t equal soulmates for life or anything.
“I’m really sorry I—”
“No,” I stop her. “Please don’t apologize for hooking us up because in all seriousness, it was the best night of my life. Ben, err, Dex allowed me to forget about all the difficult things I had gone through up until then. He opened my eyes to what my body deserves and it was hands down the best sex I’ve ever had. The consequences of our actions are my fault just as much as they are his, I guess.”
“What are you going to do?”
“This is where you come in, because I don’t know what the fuck to do. Do I tell him? Do I not tell him?”
“If you tell him, you know he’ll deny it or throw money at you to walk away.”
“That’s what I fear will happen as well. I mean, God, for all I know he sleeps with women all the time. He could have fathered more children than Nick Cannon by now.”
Eliza giggles. “Doubtful. That man has a serious breeding kink.”
“But if I don’t tell him, he’ll never know he has a kid and his kid will never know their father. How is that fair?”
She’s quiet for a minute before she says, “What if you just don’t do anything…yet?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you’re seven months pregnant, Tate. What you don’t need is unnecessary stress and although this ordeal seems very necessary, it doesn’t have to happen right this moment. You could wait until the baby is born and then decide what to do. Or wait until the season is over even, when you know he’ll have more time to dedicate to the situation.”
“I don’t want him to think I’m trying to trap him into anything. I’m not that person. I’m happy with my life the way it is. I accepted this pregnancy. I’ve done all the right things to prepare for the baby. I can do this on my own, but also…he deserves to know, right?”
“Okay, if you’re asking me, I say wait until the baby is born, snap a picture, and send it to his agent with a note detailing everything. If the baby looks at all like him, he won’t be able to deny it’s his. If he contacts you, okay. If he doesn’t…then we’ll know how he feels and what he wants, or, you know, doesn’t want.”
I nod even though she can’t see me. “Yeah. Okay. After the baby comes. That makes sense.”
“Tate, you know I’ll fly to Chicago and help you in any way I can. I’m totally there when the baby is born, alright? I’ll stay with you when your mom and sister have to go back home. We can coordinate so you’re not alone until you really feel like you have your feet under you. Especially if you end up with a C-section for any reason. You’ll need extra help. Hey, speaking of your mom. What are you doing for Christmas? Will you be in town?”
“No. Doctor doesn’t want me to travel this late in the game so my family is coming to me for a couple days.”
“All of them?”
“Yep. As far as I know. They rented an Airbnb, so we can all be comfortable for the weekend.
“Aww I bet you’re excited to see them.”
“Very much.” I feel myself smile. “We talk almost daily but it’s not the same, you know? Feels like I’m in college all over again and only see them for Christmas break.”
“I hear you. I’m glad they’re coming down though.”
“Yeah. Thank God for a good support system.”
“We love you, babe. What’s not to love? You’re an amazing human who will have an amazing baby and you’ll be an amazing mommy.”
“Thanks for talking me down, Eliza. I’m glad I got to talk to you tonight.”
“Me too. Anytime babe. Call me anytime.”
“Love you.”
“Love you.”
Rory: Still riding with me to the staff xmas party tonight?
Me: Are you sure that’s okay? I don’t mind driving myself. I can’t drink or anything tonight anyway. *smirk emoji*
Rory: LOL good point, but I won’t be drinking tonight either. No way am I getting sloshed if there’s even a remote possibility of you going into early labor.
Me: Ummm…you know I’m not due for another six weeks, right?
Rory: Six weeks is nothin’ Tate! Shelly had one of her kids eight weeks early. You better have a packed bag in your car just in case.
Me: Oh God! Don’t tell me that! You might jinx me into labor! I’ll get on that, I promise. Is there parking at your place or should I secure a spot somewhere ahead of time?
Rory: Oh, there’s a parking space underneath my building. You can just follow me to my place and we can change and get ready there.
Me: Sounds good! See you after dismissal.
Rory: *high five emoji*
___
“Wow, you live here?”
After I followed Rory into the city, we park in an underground parking garage that sits beneath a fancy skyrise of luxury condominiums. There’s no doubt in my mind this is way above my pay grade and now I wonder just how much money Rory is pulling in as a Kindergarten teacher, or what her lucrative side job must be.
Is she a stripper?
Nah…not Rory.
DoorDash?
I mean maybe…
Personal escort on the weekends?
Professional gambler?
If she’s a hooker and this is her pimp’s place…
“Yeah. I live with my older brother,” she explains, hitting the button to the elevator to take us up to the fifteenth floor.”
The top floor?
Isn’t that like, a penthouse?
“Is your brother a doctor? A lawyer? Oprah’s long-lost brother?”
Rory laughs. “No silly.”
“So, what does he do and is he hot, single and does he have a passion for babies in general?
Rory laughs. “If only. You clearly don’t know my brother.”
“Should I?”
Rory unlocks the door and swings it open. “No. Just seems like everyone in this world does. My brother’s a defenseman for the Chicago Red Tails. I can’t believe you didn’t know that. Have I never told you?”
I feel myself shaking my head but words aren’t coming out of my mouth as we step inside her home.
Nooooo.
No, no, no, no.
It can’t be.
A spark zips through my chest at the mention of hockey and the Chicago Red Tails, and several thoughts happen all at once.
This isn’t happening.
Fuck.
There’s no way.
Fuck.
She would’ve said something.
Fuck.
How did I not know?
Fuuuuuck.
Oh my God…
I swallow the huge knot in my throat and am about to ask Rory what her brother’s name is when the refrigerator door closes and a male voice speaks out.
“Hey Ror, did you put those bottles of wat—“ He freezes as we step into the space and his eyes meet mine.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
It’s him.
“It’s you,” he states with a befuddled stare.
I cannot believe this.
What are the fucking odds?
“Amanda.”
“Uhh…” Rory’s brow furrows. “Her name is Tate. Tate, this is my brother Dex.
“Dex,” I whisper because for some reason I can’t get my voice to do more than that.
His brows rise. “Your real name is Tate?”
Continuing to hold Dex’s stare, I nod. “Short for Tatum. Everyone calls me Tate.”
“Wait.” Rory’s shoulders fall as she twists between her brother and me, her brows furrowed as she watches us both. “You two know each other? How do you…?” She frowns and swings back to her brother, an angry scorn on her face. “Are you seriously telling me Tate has only been in Chicago since August and you’ve already found a way to fuck her?”
He holds my gaze but shakes his head. “No.”
“Well then how…wait…you called her Amanda.” She gasps, her mouth wide open in surprise. “Dex, is this the girl? The one you were hung up on all summer? Amanda Hugginkis?”
Hung up on me?
He’s talked about me?
He missed me?
When he doesn’t answer her, she turns back to me, her eyes bulging. “This can’t be happening. Tate, did you vacation in Key West this summer?”
Slowly, I nod, still refusing to take my eyes off the man who has invaded my every dream since the day I left. His square jaw clenches and his eyes fall over the rest of my body and suddenly I feel naked in front of him once again, only this time, much more vulnerable as I now have an unmistakable baby bump I can’t even pretend to hide.
“And you hooked up with my brother on vacation?” Rory’s unending line of questions brings me back to my senses. She gasps and her eyes bulge even more. “Oh, my God, Tatum! Is my brother your baby daddy?”
“Whoa. What?”
Her words are like a record coming to a screeching halt.
Fuck.
I squeeze my eyes closed. My heart tumbles down through my stomach.
“What the fuck did you just say?” Dex lowers his water bottle to the counter, bracing it with his two hands. He gazes at me again, eyes falling to my very pregnant baby belly, and then bulges his eyes at his sister. “Rory Jean Foster is Tatum…the friend?”
“What?”
His words come out flustered and fast. “The one you were…you know. The one you were telling me about when the school year started. The new teacher friend with the…you know, the…” He makes a rounded gesture over his stomach.
“Oh, my God, Rory, you told your brother I was pregnant?”
She flips her head between the two of us. “I…you texted me that day and I was here and…” She gestures to me. “It’s kind of blatantly obvious now, don’t you think?”
“You’re pregnant.” Dex stares.
“Looks that way, doesn’t it?” Sorry not sorry for my unfiltered sass.
He shakes his head, his forehead wrinkled. “Wait…and you think—”
“It has to—
“Rory!” Dex shouts.
“Alright! Alright! YES!” She flails her arms, her tote bag still in hand. “Dex, meet Tate, one of Riverside’s new first grade teachers, though I’m pretty sure you not only know her already, you probably know her better than I do at this point.” She turns to me. “And Tate, meet Dex, my brother, and the man who I guess gave you the best fuck of your life according to you, though I wish I didn’t know that, and seemingly knocked you up at the same time. There. I said it. Now it’s out in the open. Can we be adults about this now?”
“What the fuck are you playing at?” Dex’s words are now targeted at me.
“Me? What are you—”
“How did you even find me?”
“Wait.” I shake my head. “What?”
“Please tell me you are not that psycho to have conjured up this grand scheme?
“Come again?” I rear back, not understanding what he’s trying to say.
“What, did you figure out who I was when you left Florida, and now you’re here to try and trap me in some…” His face contorts to one of disgust. “Fucking parent trap?”
“Dex,” Rory tries to stop him, but he only has eyes for me at the moment, and to my misfortune, they’re anything but loving.
“No.” I shake my head. My eyes fill with unshed tears. This is not a situation I ever thought I would find myself in, but exactly what I feared would happen. “I didn’t know y—’
“You’re really here right now? We haven’t seen each other or talked to each other since that night because you left me without a trace, and now you’re here to tell me you’re pregnant and you think I’m the father?”
“Dex I…” I shake my head. “There hasn’t been anyone else. Not since…”
“I wore a condom sweetheart,” he says, shaking his head with disdain. “I always wear a condom.”
Rory scoffs, mumbling, “Not always fool proof.”
“Shut it, Rory.”
“No. You need to quit being an asshole before y—”
“It’s okay,” I stop them both, finally finding my brave button. Rory and Dex both turn toward me. “It’s fine. I can do this by myself. I didn’t come here to spring this on anybody. I only just found out who you were a few days ago when I saw you on TV.” I hold my hands up in defense. “I didn’t know you played hockey and I didn’t know you were related to Rory. I’m sorry. I am. Rory, for putting you in this awkward position and Dex for…well, I guess for all of it. You gave me the best night of my life and now I’m dealing with the consequences of our actions.”
Finally, my tears spill over and down my cheeks. My body is trembling because I hate confrontation, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the past year, it’s that nobody sticks up for me in this world but me. I’m all I have. All I can trust.
“But I will not let you stand here and tell me this is all my fault,” I continue. “I didn’t ask for this. I moved away from an asshole once. I certainly don’t plan to get involved with another one. And if you think for one second I did this on purpose t-t-to trap you or take your money…” I huff. “Then you don’t know me at all.”
Rory sighs, her head tilting. “Tate,”
“I should go.”
“No,” Dex says. His mesmerizing eyes the color of storm clouds carrying considerable pain and abounding confusion gaze at me as he steps forward only to shove past me to the front door. “Don’t bother. I’m out of here.”
“Dex!”
“I can’t Rory!”
And that’s all he says before he slams the door.
The moment he leaves, I release the sob I was holding back. Rory wraps her hand softly around my arm. “I promise he’ll come around.”
Even if he does, do I want him to?
I can’t raise my baby with an asshole father.
And right now, that’s what Dex Foster is. An asshole.
I might be scared out of my mind, but I’ll be damned if I put myself and my child in a loveless, unhappy living situation.
I won’t do it.