Baby Daddy

Chapter Twelve

By noon, I can't hold it back anymore. I feel the urge to say something grow more and more.

Randall makes it his life mission to ask if I'm fine every now and then while my mother lurks on the streets not so far away as my father makes his rounds at the church.

I feel my heart drop into the pits of my stomach whenever my mother's head pops into the shop with different foods and fruits said to help with morning sickness.

"Thanks," is what I manage to say. And this is supposed to be her day off.

At one point, I excuse myself to the store room and blink back tears, wiping some with the back of my hand.

I crouch over the shelves, hand on my stomach as I cry. I wonder whether a little prayer will make a difference, but denial gets the best of me and I push the thought aside.

After all, there is nothing to pray about. I'm okay.

I am okay.

I head back to the front, smiling from cheek to cheek and I'm grateful for every distraction I get.

The day goes by painfully slow. Almost like a punishment.

Teagan, one of my mother's employees, leaves work when the sun sets. She slings her bag over her shoulder, plugs in her earphones and walks out, leaving Randall and I alone.

Today I'd seen a side of Randall I didn't even believe was there. He's caring and sympathetic. . .when he wants to.

Like this morning -when I lied to my parents straight through my teeth.

Ah f**k my life.

I stand still in the middle of my mother's store, broom in hand, dust and dirt lined up right in front of it and tilt my head back.

My eyes close and I take deep breaths, trying to block out Randall's annoying whistling.

I believe in miracles.

"Me too"

"What?" I look at Randall, arching an eyebrow.

He stands up right, pulls his hands out of their shelter and narrows his eyes as he talks.

"You said something," he points out. "You said you believe in miracles."

Oh, that.

Me too, he said. I almost smile piecing everything together, but I hold myself back as my heart clenches against my chest.

I should pray. It will make a difference.

"But you're an atheist." I say sweeping around the store.

"It doesn't mean, I don't believe in miracles." He shrugs, a lock of hair slipping out of position.

Immediately I want to brush it back into place and feel it against my hand.

My breath hitches as the thought crosses my mind and I grip the broom and finish up with the chore, I promised Teagan I would complete, without another word.

It's almost eight o'clock when we start locking up the place. A cold breeze sweeps around the street, along with the rustling trees and I rub my arms, shivering.

The streets lights make it less frightening as a few people are scattered around the road. They are most likely heading for the bar down the road.

"I think I got it now." Randall says standing upright and analysing his work.

My wide eyes barely linger when I see Logan a few metres away with a woman by his side.

Oh s**t.

Randall's face suddenly comes into sight, blocking my view. I throw every sane thought out the window and do the unthinkable.

I fist his shirt, pull him down to me and kiss him, one eye looking out for Logan.

Where is he? For a track runner, he's surely taking his time.

What now? I pull on Randall's bottom lip and just as I'm about to pull away, I feel his arm smoothly snake around my waist and he kisses me back with so much power and emotion, it clouds my head.

Standing on the tips of my toes, I close my eyes and focus on his lips moving against mine and my wandering hand in his soft silk brown hair. His arms pull me up and against his hard body.

Well I'll be damned.

"Kira. . ." Finally.

I push away from Randall, touching my lip like I've just been burnt.

With my heart racing and chest rising up and down, I look at Logan apologetically.

"Hey Logan," I force a smile scratching my head. I glance at the woman beside him. "Hi."

She stretches her hand out, beaming,"Hi, I'm Christel." She says sweetly. A silver ring dons her pointed nose and silky black hair frames her face. She is definitely not his type.

I look between the two, and I feel guilty for the kiss I just staged.

"Kira," I tell her, "Are you guys going to the bar?"

My eyes widen, amused, the moment she slips her arm around Logan's. He looks hesitant, lightly coughing into his fist as he looks away.

"We're going on a date actually," she says snuggling up to him. Oh, I wonder where. Then she leans in, pointing behind me. "Is that Randall Michaelson?"

I nod, hearing metal clinking behind me and assume that Randall is still locking up.

Frowning, I glance at Logan. He's unusually quiet. "How have you been?"

"I've been worse," he shrugs dismissively. "Let's go, we're going to be late."

I nod and take a step back.

"Well it was nice seeing you." I tell them.

"Likewise." Christel beams waving at me as they walk away. "We should meet up sometime."

What?

"For sure." I lie.

I let out a breath and feel a small weight lift off my shoulders. That went well.

It only takes a few minutes for us to get home. As soon as I walk through the door my nostrils are overwhelmed by sweet and spicy aromas of stew and stir fry.

My mouth instantly waters and this time I manage to eat something.

At the table, as the spoons and forks clink against the plates, my mom talks more than the rest of us. She tells us about her book group and how she convinced her friends to start eating organic.

-which she does once in a while.

Everything goes well until dad starts talking about their plot of land on the farmsteads. The same plot of land they took out a loan for only to lose it to the Michaelson's.

"It was a tough time." My mother says. Her eyes race around the table as she folds her hands. She laughs sadly. "We almost lost everything."

I watch Randall eat his food and silently pray he doesn't defend his company.

He doesn't. I smile and dinner finishes peacefully.

"You're pregnant," My mother points out, her tired eyes narrowed. "Why would you want to sleep in separate rooms?"

Her body is hunched and she looks tired.

I sigh. "No reason."

With that said, she shakes her head, disappointed and disappears into her bedroom.

I stay in the hall for a little while and contemplate sleeping here.

"Kira!" My father shouts. Kill me now. "Switch off the damn lights." He says.

I can hear a faint voice in my head mimicking him. Think of the electricity bill, it says.

I open the door to my bedroom with a heavy heart and find Randall, relaxed atop my bed with his hands behind his head, whistling.

Uh-uh

"On the floor Mister." I say, pointing down.

"I don't sleep on the floor." He says smugly.

I'm surprised and want to laugh.

"Are you pregnant?"

"How about we just share the bed?" He says. "Put a barricade or whatever if you must."

"No." I need the extra space.

I grab the sheets and extra pillow out of the closet.

"Are you afraid you're going to kiss me again?" He mocks, chuckling.

My pulse races and I throw the things on him.

Not a second later, Randall fists the blanket and pillow, and rests on the carpet floor.

"You're a terrible kisser by the way." He says after turning the light off.

I'm frozen and shaken to my core with embarrassments. Why did I even kiss him?

Why the hell would he say that?

And his hair.

I hold on to the blanket, remembering the feeling of his hair in my hand. I must be going crazy.

I manage to fall right to sleep just as I close my eyes without another lingering thought.

Suddenly a scream escapes my lips, a sharp pain shooting through my abdomen and I feel liquid lightly flow out of me.

Randall's raspy voice grounds me."Kira?"

Instantly the light is flicked on and I see him looming over me.

I'm breathing heavily and I'm afraid to move. Something weighs on my heart and I know I can't lie to myself anymore.

Hot tears stream down my face as I try to sit up.

"Randall," I breathe, my voice barely audible. "The baby. Something is wrong."

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A very very very late update. I'm sorry, I know I did wrong but a series of things got in the way and I failed you.

Anyway, I'm sorry, please forgive me, and bare with me.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter.

Thank you.