Not Quite Forever
Page 48

“Then I found a black marker and fixed that right up.”
They were both laughing now.
“I thought she was going to break the other one when she saw what you’d done.”
Dakota glanced at her watch, realized she was going to be late for her own doctor’s appointment if she didn’t end this trip down memory lane.
She stood and kissed the top of his head. “I needed that laugh. Thanks, Daddy.”
“We’re always here for you, sugarplum.”
“I know. That’s why I’m here.”
“She isn’t answering my calls or texts.”
Walt stood on Mary’s doorstep, hands on his hips.
“Welcome to the club. She’s not saying much to me either, and for that, I blame you.” Mary knew that Dakota had made it home and that she’d yet to tell her parents about the baby. Sadly, Mary managed this information through a few scattered text messages. Dakota had yet to answer her call. The last time Mary sent a text, she threatened to call her parents’ home if she didn’t make an attempt to speak with her.
Dakota had a few hours to call or she’d make good on her threat.
Walt looked like crap, and that made Mary smile. “Tell me she’s OK.”
“She’s not in the hospital or anything.” At least Mary thought that was the case. Surely Dakota would call her if something dramatic happened, right?
“Is she getting my messages?”
“I don’t know.”
He turned away, pounded a fist against the side of her garage.
“Hey, respect the plaster, Doc.”
He pulled his wallet from his back pocket, removed a card, and handed it to her. “All my numbers are there. Day or night.”
“I’m not—”
“I’m worried about her, Mary. I care too much to let this go.”
Mary released a sigh. He sure sounded sincere. The cell phone in her back pocket buzzed. She jumped when Dakota’s face popped up on the screen. She answered. “Hey, Mom.”
“Mom?” Dakota’s voice spelled relief.
“Hold on,” Mary told her.
Mary glared at Walt and hoped her face didn’t give anything away. “I’ll call if anything dramatic happens,” she told him.
He shook his head and walked away.
Mary cradled the phone and slammed her front door. “Holy cow, girl. I’ve been worried sick.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m in a really strange place right now.”
“I know you are. Are you taking care of yourself?”
“I’m actually sitting outside a doctor’s office with a list of instructions a mile long.”
Mary flopped on her couch. “I can’t believe you’re pregnant.”
“You and me both. I’ve been on the pill since the day I told Mom I needed Midol.”
“So how did it happen?” Mary couldn’t believe she asked such a stupid question.
Dakota must not have realized how crazy the question was. She launched right into answering it. “Get this, the antibiotic I was on last month countered the effect of the pill. Can you believe it? Walt’s dad prescribed a pill that is going to make him a grandfather.”
“Wow.”
“Tell me about it. If I thought the man liked me at that point, I would swear he did it on purpose.”
“You don’t think—”
“Please, Mary. My life is nutty, but it’s not a soap opera.”
That was a relief. “Does anyone else know?”
“No. Not yet.”
Mary squeezed her eyes shut. “I hate to ask this . . . but . . .”
“What?”
“Are you going to keep the baby?”
Dakota sighed. “I never really thought it was an option. I’m not a kid. I have money.”
“You don’t sound happy about it.”
“I can’t even think of what’s happening as anything but a pregnancy. The thought of a baby scares the crap out of me.”
The psychologist in her was on high alert. “We really need to work on this, Dakota.”
“I-I know.”
Mary glanced at her closed front door. “Are you going to tell Walt?”
“Eventually. He has a right to know.”
“Good. Good. Has he, ah, has he called you?” Mary was fishing for information, hoped her friend was off her game and didn’t catch on.
“He’s left a dozen messages. I just delete them.”
“Without listening to them?”
“I can’t get over him if I hear his voice.”
Well, that answered that. “He’s been by your house twice.”
Dakota was silent.
“I told him you left, but didn’t tell him where.”
“Oh.”
“He seemed a little desperate.”
“Probably feeling guilty.”
“I don’t know, Dakota, seemed to be more than that. I think he knows he screwed up.”
“Yeah, well, he did. And if there is one thing all this taught me is that I need to depend on only one person. Me.”
The fight in her friend’s voice was better than the sorrow that had been there a second ago.
“You can depend on me, too.”
“You know what I mean.”
Mary did, but changed the subject. “If you’re going to keep the baby, you’ll need to tell your parents.”