Pretty Little Mistake

I never should have invited Lennon over. It was a moment of weakness at the sight of her tears and pleas for a pet. I convinced myself it wouldn’t be so bad, but then she had to push me, question me.

When the food arrived, we ate in awkward silence.

All because I’m an idiot.

“Are you sure this is okay?” I ask for the millionth time, pointing the remote at the TV, ready to change it the moment she gives the word.

“Yes.” She laughs lightly, petting Cheddar, who’s curled in her lap. The traitor. “This is a cute movie.”

“But it’s a Christmas movie.” I sound appalled because I am. It’s not even Halloween yet.

She stifles a yawn, resting her elbow on the arm of the couch and her head in her hand. “It’s always Christmas at Hallmark Channel.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Well,” she says, stifling another yawn, “now you do.”

“Are you tired? Do you want to lie down? I can move.”

“Beckham,” she groans, “please, just shut up and let me watch this movie and pet your cat, okay?”

“I . . . okay.” This is the weirdest fucking night of my life. “All right. I can do that.”

She shushes me. “Watch the movie. You might like it.”

I doubt that. Sappy love shit gives me hives.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I watch the movie like she requested. I observe her from time to time too. If she notices, she ignores me.

When a commercial comes on, I ask her, “Do you really want a puppy?”

She snorts. “Why? Would you get me one?”

Maybe. “No, I’m just curious.”

“I don’t think so, not really anyway. I guess I’m just feeling really unprepared for this whole thing. I thought I’d have kids someday, just not . . . now, you know? I didn’t grow up around babies, and it’s not like my parents were very nurturing. How do I know I’ll be good at this thing?”

“You will be.”

“But how do you know?”

“Because you wouldn’t be worrying about this if you weren’t going to be a good parent.”

“I’m not sure I believe you, but thank you.”

“Maybe we should take some classes. Surely, they have classes on changing diapers and keeping kids alive.”

She laughs, and fuck if it isn’t the most beautiful sound. She’s got to stop doing that. It makes my chest feel funny, almost warm.

“I think it’s so crazy the hoops you have to jump through to adopt a pet, let alone a child, but one that’s biologically yours, they just send you on your way from the hospital.” She stifles a yawn, leaning a little heavier on her arm.

“Should I get you home?”

She turns to glare at me. “Stop trying to get rid of me. The movie is back on. Pay attention.” She points a bossy finger at the TV.

Helplessly, I sink deeper into the couch to focus on the screen.

Hours later, I jolt awake on the couch to find Cheddar curled in my lap and the spot on the couch where Lennon was empty.

I set Cheddar off my lap, then get up and call out her name.

“Lennon?” I head toward the bathroom, but it’s empty. I spin around, searching the guest room and my bedroom.

She’s gone.

That should relieve me, I think, that she left and went home, but instead I feel panicky inside.

I ring her phone and she doesn’t answer, which only makes me spiral further.

Me: You better answer your phone.

I wait a moment.

Me: LENNON.

Me: I’m calling again and if you don’t answer I’m calling the police.

Me: Don’t think I won’t.

I ring her again, and she answers after five rings. “Relax, Dad. I was in the shower.”

I nearly choke. “You’re talking to me naked right now?”

“I have a towel on since someone was so incredibly impatient. It’s not my fault you fell asleep. You snore, by the way. You might want to get that checked out.”

“I don’t snore,” I bite out through gritted teeth, swiping a bottle of water from the fridge. Cheddar follows me from the kitchen and back to the bedroom before leaping onto the bed.

She laughs, and it sounds like she puts her phone down on the counter. “Trust me, you do. Mouth hanging open and everything.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to believe me, but that doesn’t mean I’m not right.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “You should’ve woken me up. I would’ve taken you home.”

“I hate to tell you, but I’ve lived in New York for years now. Getting home at a late hour is nothing new.” I choke on water—why I chose to take a sip at that moment is beyond me. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I gripe.

I’m not fine at all, because now all I can think about is Lennon heading home from late nights with other men. That shouldn’t infuriate me, but it does. She doesn’t belong to me, and yet it feels like some part of her has always been mine. Selfish, that’s what I am.

“Well, if you’re fine, and I’m fine, then I’m going to finish putting my lotion on and go to bed.”

“Don’t do that again.”

“Do what?”

“Leave and not tell me.”

“Oh, so you think there will be another time?”

“That’s not what I—”

She hangs up.

I stare down at the phone screen, tempted to ring her back and chew her out.

As much as I love arguing with her, it’s late and she needs to go to bed. She has my kid to take care of.

My kid.

It’s still a weird thought—that I’m going to be a parent, a dad.

“Do you think I’ll be a good dad?” I ask Cheddar. He peeks one eye open from the pillow I sleep on. The bastard always tries to take it. “What do you think?” He closes his eyes. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. It’s not like I’ve managed to keep you alive.”

Yanking back the covers, I climb into bed and lie there with my hands crossed on my chest, thinking.

My life has been upended in the short amount of time since Lennon came back into it, and it’s about to change even more, in the most monumental way.

I would never admit it to anyone—I don’t even like thinking it to myself—but I’m scared.

A child isn’t a cute accessory, no matter how some people treat them. I know there’s no such thing as a perfect parent, but I don’t want to fuck up my kid. I want my son or daughter to love me, trust me, and always feel like they can come to me with anything, but how do I do that?

I press the heels of my hands to my eyes, exhaling a frustrated breath.

Cheddar gives a matching frustrated meow. I should’ve known better than to dare disturb his beauty sleep.

Rolling over to my side, I squish my eyes closed and will myself to fall asleep.

And when I do, I dream—a rarity for me. In it, Lennon walks down a long aisle covered in petals toward me in a white dress.

It’s a cruelty, that dream, because bastards like me don’t get the girl.