Baby Business. Brenda Novak

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      “DON’T LOOK AT ME like that. You’re the one who got me into this,” Macy told Lisa, who was sitting on her couch, drinking a large Coke and finishing the rest of a McDonald’s Combo Meal.

      “I told you to have Thad’s baby and get paid for doing it, so you could help Haley. I didn’t tell you to marry him. That’s crazy. What are you going to do after the baby?”

      “Uncontested divorce. And I’ll have to sign over full custody, of course.”

      Lisa’s breath hissed through her teeth. “I thought you guys were going to stay out of each other’s personal lives.”

      “I guess we’ve decided that if we’re going to have a baby together, there’s just no practical way to keep our distance, not with Thad giving me the money up front. Having me marry him makes him feel more secure. Anyway, he has a point about the baby not being born a bastard. I’ll have a name to put on the birth certificate, and I won’t have to write ‘single’ on every form the doctor or hospital hands me.”

      “So he’ll be living here?” She used a french fry to motion at the cramped but comfortable living room.

      “Yeah, it’s a point in his favor that he doesn’t expect me to uproot myself, not with Haley in the hospital.”

      “Well, I think he sounds like a nice guy.”

      “We’ll see if you still think so in nine months.”

      Feeling a pang of hunger at the smell of Lisa’s food and regretting her decision not to get something when they went to McDonald’s after leaving the hospital, Macy kicked off her shoes and wandered into the kitchen. “Do you want any ketchup for those fries?” she called.

      “No, I’m almost done.”

      Macy opened the refrigerator to survey her meager possibilities, and stiffened in surprise when she found it teeming with food. Fresh fruits and vegetables filled the drawers, a gallon of milk and a gallon of freshly squeezed orange juice sat side by side, and lunch meat, a loaf of whole-wheat bread, a large, ready-made salad and a giant jar of pickles were arranged neatly on the shelves. A note was taped to the milk, written in a bold masculine hand, outlining the nutritional requirements of an expectant mother.

      “Damn him!”

      “Who?” Lisa followed her into the kitchen, her wrappers and McDonald’s sack crackling as she wadded them up for disposal.

      “Thad Winters.”

      “What’s he done now?”

      Macy pushed the refrigerator door open wider so Lisa could see for herself.

      “What a jerk!” she exclaimed. “He went and bought you at least a hundred dollars’ worth of groceries. I can’t think of anything worse.”

      Rolling her eyes, Macy slammed the fridge door. “It’s the fact that he stocked my fridge without asking me. Doesn’t that strike you as a rather personal, not to mention, controlling, thing to do? He has no right to do stuff like that.”

      “I’d call him on it, if I were you,” Lisa teased.

      “This isn’t funny. I don’t think he should feel so free to make himself comfortable here.”

      “He’s going to be living here in a few days!”

      “That’s just it. He’s not living here yet. I still have five days. And I want every one of them.” She turned her back on the offending refrigerator and reached above the sink to make herself a cup of coffee, but she found a note there, too. “Caffeine causes birth defects,” it said in big block letters.

      Lisa started laughing so hard she had to sit down.

      “I can’t believe you,” Macy complained. “You’ve been on his side from the beginning.”

      “I’d love to see what he’s done to the liquor cabinet.”

      “You know I don’t have a liquor cabinet. The most I ever drink is an occasional glass of wine.”

      “Then tell him you have some Jack Daniel’s stashed away and let him knock himself out trying to find it. That would be a fitting revenge, don’t you think?”

      The telephone rang, but Macy made no move to answer it. At this hour, it had to be Thad…or the hospital. Her heart skipped a beat at the second possibility, and she dived for the receiver. “Hello?”

      “Macy?”

      Thad. She made a face into the phone, but was actually grateful it wasn’t the hospital. “I see you’ve been in my house again.”

      “You had nothing but baking soda in your fridge. How can a person survive on baking soda?”

      “Okay, that’s it.” Macy set the phone on the table and marched through the living room to the front door, where she promptly removed the spare key from under the mat and shoved it into the pocket of her jeans.

      “Hello? Macy?” Thad was saying when she picked up the phone again.

      “I’m back.”

      “Where did you go?”

      “To remove your invitation to enter my house.”

      He whistled. “It’s a good thing I know you like me. Otherwise, my feelings might get hurt.”

      “Yeah, СКАЧАТЬ