But I wouldn’t push. Instead, I reached over and put my hand on his leg, hoping he’d get the message—I know that was hard for you, and I’m here if you need me.
I don’t even think he noticed it.
By the time we were in the elevator going up to our floor, I was starting to get concerned. Nate still hadn’t spoken to me, other than answering my questions with short, vague responses, and his expression remained grim.
“You feeling okay?” I asked him.
“I’m fine.”
But he wasn’t.
The doors opened, and as we began to walk down the hall, I tried again. “So what kind of food do you feel like having? We could—”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
I looked up at Nate in surprise and saw that his eyes were focused on something farther down the hall. I followed his line of vision and spotted a woman knocking on his door. She looked about my age. Dark ponytail. Blunt bangs. Jeans, boots, a light brown sweater.
“Who is that?” I asked, although in my gut I already knew.
Nate didn’t answer, but he strode forward with huge, angry steps, carrying the car seat with one hand. I hurried to catch up.
“Now you decide to knock?” he demanded.
“Paisley!” After catching sight of the baby, the woman crouched down with her hands on her knees, smiling widely as Nate approached. “My baby girl! Mommy’s missed you so much.” She sniffed, her eyes tearing up.
“If you missed her so much, why haven’t you called for two weeks?” Nate kept the car seat handle in his grip and angled away from Rachel, who moved around him trying to see her daughter.
“Because I needed the time alone to work on myself. I was in an intensive therapy program. And I wanted you to have time to get to know her.”
By then, I’d caught up to them and probably should have gone inside my apartment to give them some privacy, but I felt rooted to the spot.
“What kind of program?” Nate demanded. “Are you an addict?”
“No!” She looked appalled, but softened her voice. “I have postpartum depression, Nate. I couldn’t sleep or eat or find the energy to do anything. All I did was cry and feel like my life was over, and all my doctor did was prescribe sleeping pills, which didn’t help. Now I’m finally getting real treatment. I have new medication that’s actually working, and I’m going to therapy.”
Hearing her story, I actually felt sorry for her, but Nate wouldn’t bend. “We said one month. It’s only been two weeks.”
“Please, Nate, can’t I just see her?” Rachel asked tearfully. She was pretty, with high cheekbones, a dimple in her chin, and straight white teeth. Self-consciously, I poked at my slightly crooked bottom teeth with the tip of my tongue. Dammit, why hadn’t I worn my retainer more often?
“That’s all you want? To see her?”
“Well, can’t I hold her a little? I’ve missed her so much. You have no idea.”
“You have no idea what it did to me learning I had a two-month-old baby. You should have told me.”
She held up both hands in surrender. “You’re right. I should have told you. Like I said in my note, I’d totally planned to give her up for adoption, but—”
“Without even asking me!” Nate yelled. “That was fucking not okay!”
“I know,” Rachel said, weeping openly. “I’m sorry, Nate. I wasn’t thinking straight. And we barely knew each other. I didn’t plan on any of this.”
“Me either.” He glared at her. “You can come in for a few minutes and hold her, but then you have to leave.”
“Um, I think I’ll head home,” I said quietly. “Nate, I’ll see you later.”
“No, Emme.” Nate made eye contact with me for what felt like the first time in hours. “You don’t have to go home. We have plans tonight, and we’re not canceling them.” He gave Rachel one last angry look before opening the door to his apartment.
I was torn between wanting to stay out of their business and fearing I’d miss something dramatic if I left. Also, and this is so stupid I’m ashamed I even thought it, I was kind of jealous. This beautiful, sad woman had a baby with Nate. He’d slept with her. He’d obviously found her attractive last year. What if she tried to seduce him or something? As soon as I had the thought, I felt guilty about it. I trusted Nate. But I still followed them into his apartment.
Nate set the car seat on the floor, and Rachel dropped her purse and hurried over to it. Kneeling down, she unstrapped her daughter and lifted her out, snuggling her close. Paisley woke up and started to fuss.
“She needs to be changed.” Nate stood aside, arms folded across his chest, feet planted wide.
“I’ll do it.” Rachel stood up and looked around his apartment. “Wow, you’ve got a lot of baby stuff. Did you buy all this in the last two weeks?”
“No, I’ve always decorated my apartment this way.” Nate rolled his eyes. “Of course I just bought it all. I had nothing here for her when you left her at my door. Not that you cared.”
“I did care, Nate. I just couldn’t think straight.” She took Paisley over to the changing table, talking softly to her, asking her questions, telling her how much she missed her. By the look on Nate’s face, I could tell he was getting angrier with every word. I went over and stood next to him.
“Hey,” I whispered. “Are you sure you want me here?”
“Yes.” He didn’t take his eyes off them, almost like he didn’t trust Rachel with his daughter.
When Paisley had been changed, Rachel picked her up and kissed her pudgy cheek. “She looks good.”
“Of course she looks good,” he snapped. “Did you think I wouldn’t take care of my own child?”
“I meant it as a compliment. I wouldn’t have left her with you if I thought you wouldn’t take care of her.”
“Thanks,” he said flatly.
“Give me a break, will you? I came here to do you a favor.”
He tilted his head. “What favor is that?”
Rachel stood a little taller. “You don’t have to keep her for the full month. I came to take her back.”
Nate moved fast. In two seconds he’d covered the ten feet between himself and Rachel and taken the baby from her arms. Rachel was so stunned she let it happen.
“No way,” Nate said, circling around the couch to stand next to me again. “If that’s what you came here for, you can forget about it. You’re not taking her out of this apartment.”
“Come on. You didn’t even want her for a week, remember?” Rachel stuck her hands on her hips.
“Well, things have changed. And I have rights.”
“Says who?” Rachel’s tone turned antagonistic. “How do you even know she’s really yours?”
My mouth fell open and I looked at Nate, expecting him to blow. But he didn’t.
“I just do,” he said calmly. “Want me to take a paternity test?”
“No.” Rachel’s shoulders slumped and she closed her eyes. “She’s yours.” A moment later she opened them, tears spilling over again. “But please let me have her back. She’s everything to me. I feel so guilty for leaving her.”
“No. After the month is up, we’ll negotiate custody. You owe me this time with her.” He paused. “Where do you live?”
Rachel wiped her eyes. “Battle Creek.”
“What’s your last name?”
“Brown.”
“Did you give her my last name or yours?”
“Mine.”
“What’s her middle name?”
“Ann.”
The authoritative way he was grilling her reminded me of a lawyer cross-examining a witness, or a detective questioning a suspect.
“I need your information and signature on the Affidavit of Parentage. Once paternity is established, I want my name on the birth certificate. And I want joint physical and legal custody.”
“Fine, we’ll work it out. But Nate, can I please hold her again?” asked Rachel. “Then I’ll go. You can have the rest of your month, and I’ll come back in two weeks. I thought you’d be glad to give her back early.”
I don’t even think he noticed it.
By the time we were in the elevator going up to our floor, I was starting to get concerned. Nate still hadn’t spoken to me, other than answering my questions with short, vague responses, and his expression remained grim.
“You feeling okay?” I asked him.
“I’m fine.”
But he wasn’t.
The doors opened, and as we began to walk down the hall, I tried again. “So what kind of food do you feel like having? We could—”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
I looked up at Nate in surprise and saw that his eyes were focused on something farther down the hall. I followed his line of vision and spotted a woman knocking on his door. She looked about my age. Dark ponytail. Blunt bangs. Jeans, boots, a light brown sweater.
“Who is that?” I asked, although in my gut I already knew.
Nate didn’t answer, but he strode forward with huge, angry steps, carrying the car seat with one hand. I hurried to catch up.
“Now you decide to knock?” he demanded.
“Paisley!” After catching sight of the baby, the woman crouched down with her hands on her knees, smiling widely as Nate approached. “My baby girl! Mommy’s missed you so much.” She sniffed, her eyes tearing up.
“If you missed her so much, why haven’t you called for two weeks?” Nate kept the car seat handle in his grip and angled away from Rachel, who moved around him trying to see her daughter.
“Because I needed the time alone to work on myself. I was in an intensive therapy program. And I wanted you to have time to get to know her.”
By then, I’d caught up to them and probably should have gone inside my apartment to give them some privacy, but I felt rooted to the spot.
“What kind of program?” Nate demanded. “Are you an addict?”
“No!” She looked appalled, but softened her voice. “I have postpartum depression, Nate. I couldn’t sleep or eat or find the energy to do anything. All I did was cry and feel like my life was over, and all my doctor did was prescribe sleeping pills, which didn’t help. Now I’m finally getting real treatment. I have new medication that’s actually working, and I’m going to therapy.”
Hearing her story, I actually felt sorry for her, but Nate wouldn’t bend. “We said one month. It’s only been two weeks.”
“Please, Nate, can’t I just see her?” Rachel asked tearfully. She was pretty, with high cheekbones, a dimple in her chin, and straight white teeth. Self-consciously, I poked at my slightly crooked bottom teeth with the tip of my tongue. Dammit, why hadn’t I worn my retainer more often?
“That’s all you want? To see her?”
“Well, can’t I hold her a little? I’ve missed her so much. You have no idea.”
“You have no idea what it did to me learning I had a two-month-old baby. You should have told me.”
She held up both hands in surrender. “You’re right. I should have told you. Like I said in my note, I’d totally planned to give her up for adoption, but—”
“Without even asking me!” Nate yelled. “That was fucking not okay!”
“I know,” Rachel said, weeping openly. “I’m sorry, Nate. I wasn’t thinking straight. And we barely knew each other. I didn’t plan on any of this.”
“Me either.” He glared at her. “You can come in for a few minutes and hold her, but then you have to leave.”
“Um, I think I’ll head home,” I said quietly. “Nate, I’ll see you later.”
“No, Emme.” Nate made eye contact with me for what felt like the first time in hours. “You don’t have to go home. We have plans tonight, and we’re not canceling them.” He gave Rachel one last angry look before opening the door to his apartment.
I was torn between wanting to stay out of their business and fearing I’d miss something dramatic if I left. Also, and this is so stupid I’m ashamed I even thought it, I was kind of jealous. This beautiful, sad woman had a baby with Nate. He’d slept with her. He’d obviously found her attractive last year. What if she tried to seduce him or something? As soon as I had the thought, I felt guilty about it. I trusted Nate. But I still followed them into his apartment.
Nate set the car seat on the floor, and Rachel dropped her purse and hurried over to it. Kneeling down, she unstrapped her daughter and lifted her out, snuggling her close. Paisley woke up and started to fuss.
“She needs to be changed.” Nate stood aside, arms folded across his chest, feet planted wide.
“I’ll do it.” Rachel stood up and looked around his apartment. “Wow, you’ve got a lot of baby stuff. Did you buy all this in the last two weeks?”
“No, I’ve always decorated my apartment this way.” Nate rolled his eyes. “Of course I just bought it all. I had nothing here for her when you left her at my door. Not that you cared.”
“I did care, Nate. I just couldn’t think straight.” She took Paisley over to the changing table, talking softly to her, asking her questions, telling her how much she missed her. By the look on Nate’s face, I could tell he was getting angrier with every word. I went over and stood next to him.
“Hey,” I whispered. “Are you sure you want me here?”
“Yes.” He didn’t take his eyes off them, almost like he didn’t trust Rachel with his daughter.
When Paisley had been changed, Rachel picked her up and kissed her pudgy cheek. “She looks good.”
“Of course she looks good,” he snapped. “Did you think I wouldn’t take care of my own child?”
“I meant it as a compliment. I wouldn’t have left her with you if I thought you wouldn’t take care of her.”
“Thanks,” he said flatly.
“Give me a break, will you? I came here to do you a favor.”
He tilted his head. “What favor is that?”
Rachel stood a little taller. “You don’t have to keep her for the full month. I came to take her back.”
Nate moved fast. In two seconds he’d covered the ten feet between himself and Rachel and taken the baby from her arms. Rachel was so stunned she let it happen.
“No way,” Nate said, circling around the couch to stand next to me again. “If that’s what you came here for, you can forget about it. You’re not taking her out of this apartment.”
“Come on. You didn’t even want her for a week, remember?” Rachel stuck her hands on her hips.
“Well, things have changed. And I have rights.”
“Says who?” Rachel’s tone turned antagonistic. “How do you even know she’s really yours?”
My mouth fell open and I looked at Nate, expecting him to blow. But he didn’t.
“I just do,” he said calmly. “Want me to take a paternity test?”
“No.” Rachel’s shoulders slumped and she closed her eyes. “She’s yours.” A moment later she opened them, tears spilling over again. “But please let me have her back. She’s everything to me. I feel so guilty for leaving her.”
“No. After the month is up, we’ll negotiate custody. You owe me this time with her.” He paused. “Where do you live?”
Rachel wiped her eyes. “Battle Creek.”
“What’s your last name?”
“Brown.”
“Did you give her my last name or yours?”
“Mine.”
“What’s her middle name?”
“Ann.”
The authoritative way he was grilling her reminded me of a lawyer cross-examining a witness, or a detective questioning a suspect.
“I need your information and signature on the Affidavit of Parentage. Once paternity is established, I want my name on the birth certificate. And I want joint physical and legal custody.”
“Fine, we’ll work it out. But Nate, can I please hold her again?” asked Rachel. “Then I’ll go. You can have the rest of your month, and I’ll come back in two weeks. I thought you’d be glad to give her back early.”
