I’m a complete and total fraud. One day, not long from now, some reader is going to show up to a book signing. Instead of trying to attack me, they’ll stand with their finger pointed, yelling, “Fraud!”
I can’t believe Decode the Man in Your Life isn’t an abject failure. I can’t even capture the man I love. Hell, I can barely keep his attention for as long as it takes me to suck him off and let him do the same for me. That’s why I keep putting off calling him to get together—as friends.
I can’t do friends with Jackson. And even though I wish that somehow he’d change if he knew about the baby, a million women would probably tell me differently. He and I don’t have the same long-term goals. He’s not going to suddenly want to be a father simply because we’re friends.
I grab my phone. Gee-Gee will know what I should do.
On the fourth ring, she picks up. “Hello?”
“Hey, Gee-Gee.” I let out a slow sigh.
“Uh oh. I know that sound. What’s going on, Baby?”
All of the sudden, my throat clogs with tears that want to strangle me. My breaths hitch and I can’t talk. All I get out is a high pitched whine.
On the other end, Gee-Gee tut-tuts. “Now, Sweetie, calm down. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong. Did you have an accident?”
I pull in a shaky breath and wipe the wetness from my eyes. “Yes. But, not like you th-thi-think.”
Her tone changes to something more like the steel-backboned woman I admire so often. “Now, Ronnie. You need to tell Gee-Gee what’s going on.”
I’m five years old again and I’ve broken the chain off my bike and scraped my knee, and the only one in the world who can fix me is Gee-Gee, because she’s the only one who was always there. Mom worked all the time and she would run Dad off anytime he tried to visit.
Word vomit spews from my mouth. “I’m in love. He’s famous. He’s a playboy. He’s never going to want me for more than—than—”
I push out what I’m really getting at. “I—I’m pregnant. But he won’t want the baby.”
The silence on the other end might as well be thunder booming. I cringe. I wait. Nothing.
“Gee-Gee?”
A deep breath comes through the line.
“Well, sweet girl, it sounds like you backed into that relationship.”
I bite my lip and sniffle as her words sink in.
“I really did, didn’t I?”
“Now, you need to start at the beginning and see if you can’t turn it around. And if not, then he’s not the man you and your baby need, that’s when you wait. God will send the one you need.”
The tears spring up again. I press my fingers over my mouth, but the wail comes out anyway.
I sniff the snot threatening to run down my face and grind out my words between clenched teeth. “But I don’t want another man, Gee-Gee. I want Jackson.”
More soothing sounds come through, but I’m not comforted. As much as she tries, I’ll never be happy. I’ve got a baby with no daddy, and as soon as he finds out I’m going to get pregnant-fat and all unsexy, he’ll drop me like a pair of dirty drawers.
I’m such a colossal moron. How could I have done this to myself? I knew what he was from the moment we met.
Gee-Gee clears her throat. “You still there, Baby Girl?”
My voice is small. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Sweet child, there has to be something good in him if you started any kind of relationship with him. Uncover it and show it to him.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. Now, when do you go back on his show to finish up this bet business?”
I let out another long sigh. But then a tiny spark of hope ignites in my heart.
She chuckles. “God’s in charge, Baby Girl, and He’s good every day.”
I wish I shared her faith. I dab my tears with a tissue as we say goodbye.
I slump at my desk. The one Jack put together—three times. Three times to get it right. But he took the time. He was frustrated. He could’ve thrown up his hands and said forget it, but he didn’t. He stayed and finished it—for me.
That was the day he called us friends. Maybe we can be friends—at the very least. And if so, then I’ll gauge his reaction to my pregnancy before I tell him he’s the father.
I suck in a deep breath and hold it. No. I need to not get ahead of myself. One thing at a time.
Friends.
Try to make that work. And don’t let it crash and burn.
Decode the Man in Your Life
Chapter [3]: Men Are Smarter Than You Think
Correction: Men Are Fucking Idiots
FIFTEEN
I pace the living room.