Page 112 of Heartbreak Hockey

His clothes are strewn about my place since he seems to leave wearing something of mine. Often.

“Stop stealing my shit,” I complained when I ran out of sweatpants. “Don’t you have enough of my stuff at your place?”

“It’s not about the amount of items, Merc,” he whined. “Your smell wears off and I need more of it.”

“For it to get my smell, I have to wear it, Leslie.”

“Good point.”

“Consider my closet the library. You’re allowed to borrow up to four items and then you need to return at least one before you take another.”

Though I’m pretty sure we spend enough time around the other that we share scent by this point. We’ve been fucking since last September. We’ve been boyfriends since October. It’s April and we live in each other’s pockets.

I don’t mind any of it. Having a boyfriend is a lot more fun than I ever imagined it to be. Is that because it’s Jack? I’ll never know, and I don’t care to find out. I want to keep Jack. Forever. He’s fucking mine.

Picking up my phone, I pull up our text chat to tell him he’s been gone too long and to get his ass up here. I hesitate too long, wondering if I’m being a needy asshole. My phone rings and it’s not Jack. It’s Sandra, Dad’s girlfriend. I answer immediately. She doesn’t call often though I’ve tried to keep a good line of communication between us so that she’d reach out if there was trouble. Hopefully before a catastrophe.

“Mercy?”

“Yeah? You, okay? Baby, okay?”

“Baby’s okay. I’m not. Mercy, I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this.” Her voice is all screechy and shaky.

“Have a baby? Not much I can help you with there. Once they’re in, they’ve gotta come out somehow.” I make the joke because all my alarm bells are ringing and flashing and waking up the entire neighborhood. I’m hoping it can all be smoothed over by a joke and some soft words, but I know better. I expected it because history seems to repeat itself where Dad is concerned. But this is soon, even for this. Still, it’s almost anti-climactic with the way I predicted something like this would happen even if it was just within the depths of my subconscious.

“It’s not the having of the baby I’m worried about so much as the having it around after part. I’m not Mom material, Mercy.”

It? Even I call them Baby Meyer.No. That doesn’t mean anything, Merc. Calm the fuck down.But it’s hard when I’ve got seven different worst-case scenarios running through my head. I’m letting her state of panic rile me up. She just needs a little confidence.

“All Moms feel this way, Sandy. You’re gonna be a great mom.”

“How would you know, Mercy? You can’t know. You’ve never been pregnant before.”

No, and I know hormones can be a fucking bitch to deal with, which I’m sure must be hard so I don’t argue. But I have been a damn parent since I was ten years old. Latch-key kids were a thing of the eighties, not the nineties, but I had to be one anyway so that Dad could work. He couldn’t afford daycare. Not even a babysitter.

“We’re all gonna help, Sandy. Promise. You won’t be doing this alone. We’ve been coming up with a plan for months. You know that. The babe’ll be loved. They’ll have a roof over their head. They’ll never go hungry.”

It’s been hard being away from everyone. That’s the downside of my job, but the big upside is the money I’ve made. It’s good money and we’ll be fine. I’ll start fixing cars again when I’m home too for even more extra during the off-season. I’ll have enough to expand my house. I’ll build rooms for the Meyer teen division and a few extras for anyone else who wants to stay whenever.

She cries chest-heaving sobs. “I know and I feel like the world’s worst human, but that’s the same reason I feel that if I left the baby with you, it would be all right.”

There it is folks. “Sandy. You’re having a bad day. Once they’re here you’ll—”

“No, Mercy. I’ve felt this way since day one. I was gonna … well let’s just say I wasn’t sure if I wanted tohavethe baby, but Grant spewed the same bullshit you are now. My feelings never went away. I haven’t felt a connection the whole time.”

Now I’m all kinds of nervous. I’m in fucking love with that babe already. Not a day goes by that I don’t stare at the ultrasound picture Sandy gave me. I imagine what they’ll be like. I work hard to keep this job so that I can give them everything and more. I don’t want them to miss out just because there are so many of us.

An ache seizes my chest. As much as I didn’t love it happening, I don’t want to lose the new Meyer, but ultimately, it’s Sandra’s choice.

“I’ve made peace with bringing them into the world, but I don’t want to keep them,” she says and my whole being comes slamming back to me in such a rush, I physically take a step back.

“H-Have you told, Dad?”

“I have.”

“What did he say?”

“To call you.”