Nine Months' Notice. Michele Dunaway

      Chapter Three

      The day before her first doctor’s appointment, Tori was unable to shake the mixture of melancholy and excitement she was experiencing. On one hand, she was thrilled to be becoming a mom. On the other, she already felt overwhelmed—think of all the preparations she had to make. The phone rang and Tori picked up on the second ring.

      “Hey, stranger,” Tori said, having recognized Cecile’s phone number on the caller ID display.

      “Hey, yourself,” Cecile said. “I haven’t talked to you in ages. What’s up?”

      “Everything,” Tori admitted. “I—”

      “Ah, Jeff,” Cecile interrupted. “What’s going on with him? You haven’t gone back to him, have you?”

      “No,” Tori said. She chewed on her bottom lip. “He did stop by the office once.”

      “And?” Cecile prodded. A few seconds of silence later Cecile said, “Oh.”

      “No, not that,” Tori replied. “I held my ground. I told him it was over.”

      “That’s good,” Cecile said.

      “Maybe,” Tori agreed after a moment. She opened her mouth to tell Cecile about her doctor’s appointment when Cecile said, “I met someone at my sister’s wedding reception.”

      “Really?”

      “Yeah,” Cecile said. “Hotter than the summer day. Blond. Tall. Body to die for and more magnetism than the north pole.”

      “And what’s wrong with that?” Tori asked.

      “I imbibed,” Cecile admitted. “I said I wasn’t going to and I did anyway. So much for turning over a new leaf.”

      Tori winced. “Will you see him again?”

      Cecile sighed. “I don’t know. He’s my brother-in-law’s best friend. I’m sure our paths will cross. I didn’t leave a number and I’m still debating if that was the right thing to do.”

      “You got me,” Tori said. “That’s sort of what happened with me and Jeff. We got together one night and I regretted it afterward. Maybe I should have trusted my judgment.”

      “Debatable,” Cecile said. “You cared for him. It was an easy mistake—you shouldn’t beat yourself up over it.”

      “I guess. Things are a little weird right now, especially since I still work for him. This job’s so good, though, I wasn’t going to give it up for something less.”

      “And you shouldn’t have to,” Cecile said. “Wright Solutions is a great company to work for.”

      “Exactly. Still, it’s hard. I keep believing that if I don’t think about him it’ll get better. I mean, I’m not afraid of being alone.”

      She wasn’t because she had plenty of friends and work to keep her busy. But moving on was still difficult, she was letting a part of her life go. Jeff had been her present and—she’d hoped—her future, and now he was her past. Sort of.

      She’d always have a little piece of him now that she was having his baby. She wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, but it didn’t matter. It simply was.

      “Cecile, what would you do if you found out your one-night stand left you with a baby? Would you tell him?” Tori asked, moving into her kitchen and grabbing a plastic cup.

      “Why are you asking me this? Did you have a one-night stand you didn’t tell me about?”

      “No,” Tori said, holding the cup under the ice dispenser. She wanted Cecile’s honest answer before she told her about the baby. “Hypothetical. I just wondered if you’d tell him.”

      “In my opinion, children should grow up having two parents if that’s possible,” Cecile said. “But I guess it’s hard to say when it’s not happening to you.”

      “I suppose there’s no easy choice,” Tori said, sipping her water. For some reason she felt slightly dehydrated.

      “Why all this interest in this topic? You’re not pregnant, are you?”

      Yes.

      Tori opened her mouth to say the word but at that moment Cecile’s phone beeped, indicating she had another call. “Hey, that’s my mom. She and Dad are letting me take one of their old armchairs for my apartment. Do you mind if I answer them and get back to you later?”

      “No, that’s fine. We’ll talk soon. Call me anytime.” Tori hung up and glanced around her apartment. She’d splurged, getting a one-bedroom loft unit with upgraded appliances. On the first floor she had a living room with a fireplace, a kitchen, a washer/dryer and a half bath. Upstairs she had a full bathroom and a bedroom that overlooked the living room. Her apartment, which had seemed so spacious when she’d first moved in, wasn’t going to be adequate once she had the baby.

      She walked over to the refrigerator and pulled off the magnetic to-do notepad she’d hung there. She grabbed a stray pen she found on the breakfast bar and, standing, she wrote at the top: Go to doctor’s appointment. Underneath she wrote: Decide what to do about Jeff.

      Disgruntled, she sighed, set the paper down and finished drinking her water. She debated about what Cecile had said. What type of a father would Jeff be? He was never in town. He hired a pet sitter to care for his cat. How could he be a dad if he was always traveling? The man had no focus unless it was technology related. Babies were about as basic as things came. They couldn’t talk, walk, feed themselves or communicate. They needed nonstop care. She worried that Jeff wouldn’t be able to handle the work involved, even if he did babysit Hailey now and then.

      Long ago, when she’d first gotten into the relationship, she’d dreamed of what it might be like to be married to Jeff Wright. She’d quickly realized that it wouldn’t be the stuff of romance novels. While they were compatible in tons of ways, in reality she and Jeff had stayed together because they didn’t worry about things such as who was doing laundry, who was paying for what and who was doing his or her fair share. They’d neutralized the issues married couples dealt with. She’d wasted two years trying to make something work; she and Jeff didn’t have staying power—that deep commitment and determination to get through things beyond just pleasure and convenience.

      Tori put her glass in the dishwasher. When she’d been eleven her parents had divorced. Her dad had moved to California. She’d seen him only on rare occasions and heard from him when he’d remembered her on major holidays. She wouldn’t allow her child to have that type of life.

      People might argue that a child deserved two parents, but Tori thought a child deserved two parents who made the child a top priority. If that weren’t possible, then no parent was better than one who constantly made you wonder whether you were worth it or whether you were valued at all.

      If Tori wondered about her place in Jeff’s life, what would her baby think growing up, asking where Daddy was and why Daddy “forgot”?

      Tori tapped her fingers on the countertop, the background noise a comforting staccato. Her own mother hadn’t gotten remarried right away, waiting instead until the perfect man had come along when Tori was a sophomore in high school. Richard Kennedy was the perfect stepfather. Tori’s mother had never been happier. And Richard had always made Tori feel valued and welcome, even when she’d become a big sister. Although Tori was almost sixteen years older than her younger brother, Kenny, the two were close. The whole family was close. That was all to Richard’s credit.

      Tori reached for her phone and pressed a speed-dial button. Within seconds, her mother picked up. “Hey Mom,” Tori said. “When’s the next family dinner?”

      “You trolling for a