My eyes drifted to the time and fatigue settled over my limbs like a heavy blanket, weighing me down every time I made a move. I honked my horn once and then pulled off. Ten minutes later, I was home, too, and already imagining the feel of my mattress against my back. I swear that's the best part of my day.
I rolled into the driveway and hit the button on the opener for the garage, only then remembering that it slipped my mind to change the battery because the door didn't rise. The night before, I'd done the same thing, but of course I forgot to take care of it. I was too tired then to walk all the way to the panel to punch in the code, and I was definitely too tired now. Instead, I shut off the engine and decided to just stay parked where I was.
The sound of my key disengaging the lock came with a sigh of relief. Days were long and nights somehow seemed even longer, but working like this was all I knew. By day, I nurtured my dream of being a business owner. About two years back, I bought the tattoo parlor I worked in part-time since I was nineteen. Running it wasn't quite what I expected, but I did love the hands-on part. It was the management side I didn't particularly care for, but for now, I had to wear two hats; one as the owner, one as an artist.
Then there was my night gig-dancing. Performing at private parties was just a once in a while thing, but I was at the club faithfully every week; Thursday through Saturday night.
The alarm chirped when I walked in and I disarmed it using the code, only to reset it again right after. I didn't feel like bothering with lights, so I found my way up the stairs through the darkness. The only thing I let hold me up from getting in bed was the brief stop I made at my bedroom window to crack it. It was a good twenty degrees warmer inside than out, so I didn't have much choice. After that, I pulled my shirt off and collapsed on top of the comforter, knowing I'd wake up regretting that I didn't bother showering off the remnants of body oil tonight. But that was a risk I was willing to take. Right now, I had a one track mind and it was stuck on sleep.
My eyes were already shut and I'd just gotten fully relaxed when my damn phone sounded off, snatching me back from the brink of unconsciousness.
" … Ain't this some-"
I caught myself, hearing my mother's voice scold me when the curse almost left my mouth. She stayed on me about using foul language and I was conscious of it even when she wasn't around.
Refusing to lift my head from the pillow as I patted both pockets of my jeans, I found my cell inside the left one.
"Yeah, hello?" I answered groggily, waiting for the person on the other end to respond. When whoever it was hesitated, my eyes popped open.
"Um … is this Marco?" she called out-soft, kinda nervous.
Her voice wasn't immediately familiar, so I listened harder. "This is him." More silence came after that, piquing my curiosity. "Hello?"
"I'm sorry to wake you. I mean, if I woke you," she mumbled. "I know it's late."
Frowning, I turned my face toward the open window. "Don't apologize, it's cool. I was up." Pulling the phone away from my face, I checked the number. I didn't recognize it, nor was it programmed into my contacts. "Is there, uh … Is there something I can do for you, Miss? Are you calling about a booking?" I asked.
There was dead silence on the other end and my suspicions only deepened.
"A booking? No," she said back, sounding confused. A heavy sigh preceded her next statement and she had my full attention. "Okay … you might not remember me, but my name's Brynn. We met a couple months ago at The Alibi?" she added, forming the statement as a question, hoping to jog my memory. I knew the place, but I still wasn't sure who I was on the line with.
I muffled a yawn and then answered. "I uh … I go there quite a bit."
The Alibi was me and the guys' go-to place for beer and good food. It was far enough outside the city that we could go there, eat in peace, and not have to worry about women recognizing one of us.
I also met a lot of ladies there; we all did, so I'd need more to go on than just a name.
"I was there with a group of women. It was the night before my best friend and brother's wedding. We had her bachelorette party there."
Still, I said nothing. I was lucky to leave that place remembering my own name most of the time. I stared into the darkness, lying there as I waited for something she said to help me remember.
"Okay, well … should I describe myself?" she asked, letting a nervous laugh slip, probably judging me pretty hard on the other end of the phone.
This is terrible. I must sound like such a dick. How bad is it that I clearly gave this woman my number and now have absolutely no idea who she was?
"No, it's cool. I think I remember you," I lied, for no other reason than to save face.
She blew out another breath. "Good … good. I um … this is kinda awkward, but … here goes."
In the few seconds it took her to continue, I held my breath, thinking of all the things a girl I'd only met once could be calling me for now, months after our encounter. I was silent while awaiting the verdict.
And then it came.
Hard and swift.
Like a blow to the chest.
"I'm pregnant," was all she had to say. In one forced breath, this woman had me wide awake again.
I sat straight up in bed and fumbled with the lamp. A chill ran up my back. "Repeat that? I think I misheard you."
"I'm sorry to just spring it on you like this, but … I'm in shock, too," she added, and I could hear that through the phone.
Dragging a hand down my face, I turned to hang my legs off the edge of my mattress. "Hold on … What'd you say your name was again?"
She hesitated a moment, but then answered my question. "Brynn. Brynn Palmer."
For all I knew, this girl was crazy. Last year, a woman who'd seen me perform ended up with the number for my personal line and basically stalked me until I changed it. For that reason, I considered it a real possibility this time, too, but I didn't reveal my suspicions.
"Pregnant? I mean … damn … " I sat there quiet for a few. In that time, I searched for more words, which wasn't easy considering the blow this woman had just delivered. The first thing I thought to ask was: "How do you, uh … how do you even-"
"How do I know it's yours?" she said, finishing my statement, but then she did something else; she corrected herself. "I mean … how do I know he or she is yours?" she asked, swapping out the word ‘it'. "Because, as hard as this may be to believe given our present circumstance, I'm a very careful person and the only time there's even been a remote possibility that I wasn't careful … was the night I met you," she explained. "I don't usually drink, but apparently, when I do it goes straight to my head."
I had absolutely nothing to say. Nothing to add. None of this was registering inside my head yet. Pregnant? I couldn't even tell you what this girl looked like if you paid me. All I knew was her name-Brynn.
"I know this all sounds crazy," she admitted, taking the words right out of my mouth. "To be quite honest with you, Marco, I only remember you because I found your number in my phone the morning after. I can't recall a whole lot of details either."
This just kept getting better.
I felt a headache coming on and massaged my forehead. "So I … I don't really know how these things are supposed to go."
And I didn't. Even with all the stupid, careless things I'd done over the years, this was by far the stupidest.
"Well, I was actually thinking we'd meet and … I don't know … talk?" she suggested. "Whenever you have time, that is."
There was no way I was gonna put this off. I needed answers now. The sooner we met up, the sooner I could discredit her story and put all of this drama to bed.
"You have anything going on tomorrow?" I asked, already thinking of how to rearrange my schedule so we could take care of this.
She seemed shocked that I answered so quickly. "Um … no, actually. Tomorrow's good."
"There's a restaurant across the street from The Alibi," I suggested, inwardly cussing myself out for this even being an issue.
"Would noon work for you?" she asked.
My chest felt tight, but I tried to keep my voice even. "That's fine."
She paused for a second, maybe just to see if I had anything to add, and then one awkward goodbye later, we were off the call.
I sat there for a long time, unable to move, definitely unable to sleep.
This news consumed me, although, I doubted it was legit. At twenty-six, I still wasn't ready for a kid. My life was hella busy and this was just not in my plans-not for a good five years or so, anyway.