All I Want. Nicole Helm
he returned his gaze to Meg, she was scowling. It was an odd expression on her. He’d seen her sad and nervous. He’d seen her smiling and flirtatious. Irritated and possibly a little angry didn’t suit her. It didn’t seem to naturally fit her.
He needed to continue to be reasonable. Reason always won. If he laid out his plan, explained it, she’d have to realize it was a good one. If she had a few caveats to add, he’d be happy to listen.
There was a lot of compromise that lay ahead, and he was willing to bend when necessary. Okay, maybe not always happily, but he wasn’t going to be unreasonable.
“So, listen,” she said. “Let’s just take this one step at a time. I think plans of action are a little premature.”
“A plan is never premature.”
This time she rolled her eyes and he had to bite back the irritation. Because this was irritating, but he was going to accept it, handle it, deal with it like a responsible adult. Like a father.
That was the point. Not that they hadn’t planned this, but that it was here and they were going to deal with it. As parents.
“I realize we don’t know each other very well,” he continued. “And yes, this is a surprise, but there’s really only one solution I can think of that makes any sense.”
She leaned back in the booth, crossed her arms over her chest. For a second all he could think was he’d created a child with this woman and he didn’t even remember what she looked like naked.
But for a fleeting second he thought he could remember the feel of her skin under his palm, the sigh of her breath against his neck and something uncomfortably like belonging.
But that was some figment of his imagination—or the alcohol’s imagination.
“Okay, so what is this only solution?”
He knew she was determined not to like it, and that made him hesitate. Maybe he should be broaching this subject somewhere else. Somewhere more private. After more discussion about what her plans were.
But she’d made it clear she had no plans for the future; everything she’d talked about was centered on just getting to the point where the baby was born, and there was so much more to worry about. So what was he supposed to do? He knew this was the right plan. The right course of action. He couldn’t keep it to himself.
“We should get married.”
It had to be his imagination that the entire diner went silent, that all eyes were on him. Really, it was just Meg’s two eyes. Big and blue and amused. She actually laughed.
“Is something funny?”
She choked, coughing a few times. “Oh my God, you’re serious. You’re serious?”
“Of course I’m serious. It makes financial sense, and it’ll offer everyone a sense of security.”
She laughed again, so hard she had to wipe her eyes. Charlie found none of it amusing, but he’d as soon let her get it all out before he tried to speak again. Maybe he could attribute this whole response to hormones. To the shock of the situation.
“I’m sorry you’re irritated,” she said after taking a deep breath. “And I know this looks like the fifties, but we live firmly in the twenty-first century. I don’t know you, Charlie. I only know your name because Dan said it...after we had sex and woke up not remembering said sex.” She grew more and more serious and angry with every word. “I’ve got all the financial sense I need, and I can handle my own damn security. What we’re talking about here is how much you want to be involved in this child’s life—not mine. I’ve had my fill of self-important businessmen who think they can plan everything into the ground.”
It was a wonder that it hurt, because why should something said by someone who was essentially a stranger bother him? But it did. It cut, the same way Dell’s dismissals of his offers for help years ago had cut.
When all you wanted to do was help, and people couldn’t even take that seriously, or got offended by it, how could it not hurt?
But why should she see how sincere he was? She didn’t know him. He didn’t know her. It was an old familiar feeling all in all, and one he knew just how to deal with. Give them what they wanted.
He stood. “Maybe we should meet to discuss this at a time when you’re more willing to be reasonable.”
She laughed bitterly. “You would be an asshole, wouldn’t you?”
If that was what she wanted to think of him, did it really matter what the truth was? He shrugged and fished one of his old business cards out of his wallet. He took the pen out of his pocket and crossed out everything except his name and his cell number.
Setting it on the table with a twenty, he slid it toward her. “You can contact me when you’re ready. But if it takes too long, I will contact you. Because I do want to be a part of my child’s life. You’ll hear from me one way or another.” Then, because he couldn’t help himself, he added, “And eat the sandwich and vegetables when they come.”
And because there was nothing else to say, he turned and walked right out of Moonrise, to his car, and got the hell away from New Benton and all the ways it’d never understand him.
* * *
THE FEELING SHE’D been wrong dogged Meg all afternoon.
It shouldn’t. Charlie had been so ridiculous, so familiar. She’d wanted to reach across the table and bash him over the head. With what, she didn’t know, but reasonable “action plans” always made her want to rip her hair out.
And he had been a jerk, so she shouldn’t feel one second of regret over calling him on it.
But it was something in his expression after she’d said it, a kind of weary acceptance, one she recognized from her family simply refusing to see her. Eventually, you just accepted they weren’t going to.
Everything about that last minute with Charlie burrowed under her skin and she couldn’t itch it away or ignore it. Something was off, and she had a terrible feeling the fault rested with her even though he was the one insane enough to propose marriage.
A proposal. Ha! It was a stupid suggestion and she hadn’t been wrong to scoff at it. But she didn’t feel right about the way she’d treated him.
What had happened to doing what was best for her child? Being a responsible, mature adult? There hadn’t been a lot of that going on at that table. She’d reverted into old familiar patterns that weren’t particularly fair when it came to Charlie.
He was involved in making half this kid’s DNA and it seemed as though he was interested in being a part of the kid’s life. She had to find a way for that to work, marriage to a stranger aside.
So he was traditional. Either that or he didn’t have a high opinion of marriage and thought easy peasy, we’ll get married. She didn’t know, because she hadn’t listened enough to find out.
She’d been too busy freaking out, because what man in his right mind proposed marriage to a stranger?
“And you can keep going on and on in this idiotic mental circle or you can call the man and find out yourself.” She stared down at the herbs she’d been processing and took a deep breath.
Part of growing up—part of getting clean—had been realizing she needed to own up to her mistakes. Accept them, and then learn how to move on from them. But that was all her, and the thing about being pregnant, even if she was the one dealing with all the growing and laboring and whatnot, was that she hadn’t gotten here alone.
She had to deal with the father of the baby, had to be bigger than her knee-jerk reactions. She had to be the reasonable one if he wouldn’t. He may have been calm and sure, but he was not reasonable if he was proposing marriage.
So she couldn’t get nasty about it. She had to show him he was wrong.