Need a Little Company Ch. 10

Paul wasn't on the move, so Marcy was free to pursue him at a more comfortable pace than when she'd raced out of her desk. But while there was no great urgency in her pregnancy waddle, each step hit the ground with more fury than the last. By the time she was standing right over him she had a compelling urge to push him over and shout obscenities at him until she was hoarse. Yet looking at him in his current state, a man crippled by the shock of what he'd just discovered, Marcy couldn't help but feel sorry for him. She knew all too well how upsetting it was to realize that one of your careless indiscretions had been productive.

She stood beside him in silence as she shuddered and panted heavily. Her hands were balled up into tight fists, but her heart was too merciful to unleash them upon him. She felt like she needed to say something, but she had not clue what. What could she possibly say that could calm Paul down and persuade him to respect her privacy? What words could repair this disaster he had brought by stumbling back into her life?

Paul could see her, though only as a pair of legs in navy blue pregnancy pants standing in his peripheral vision. He was scared to think what her face looked like; scared to look at that loaded abdomen again. But he soon realized that she wasn't simply going to walk away, no matter how long he stood there staring at the curb. With a deep breath, he plucked up the courage to stand upright and look her in the eye.

Her face was contorted into a strange expression that was sad, scared, furious and lost all at once. Normally, Marcy was a skilled mistress of subduing her emotions. But not today.

"Who told you?" she demanded in a strong, calm whimper.

"Told me? Told me what?" Paul asked in confusion.

"That I was pregnant," she answered.

"Nobody," Paul gently replied with a furrowed brow, galled by the implication that he'd had the benefit of a forewarning about this bombshell.

"Bullshit!" Marcy snapped through clenched teeth. "Don't fucking lie to me, Paul! Who told you?" She repeated, swinging her arms up and down as if to pound them upon an imaginary lectern before her.

"Nobody! Nobody told me! I. Didn't. Know! I had no idea that if I came to see you I'd find... this!" he asserted, gesturing angrily towards her full belly.

They stood there for the longest time, staring each other down with poisonous, accusing glares. The sounds of their asynchronous heavy breathing overrode the songs of distant birds and the lively murmur of the main street, one block over.

Eventually, Marcy was able to put aside her stubborn assumptions long enough to notice the look of utter shell-shock in Paul's eyes. He may have been telling the truth.

Her icy gaze softened and eventually retreated.

"Shit!" she softly repeated. As the tears began to flow, her eyes shifted aimlessly from the road to the sky, to distant trees; anywhere but the livid gaze on Paul's face.

"Why the fuck did you have to come here?" she sighed, in a manner that made it sound so much like a rhetorical question, Paul didn't feel obliged to answer.

Paul looked on in silence, his eyes still locked firmly upon her as he tried to process the situation. His body felt numb; his mind was lost in a storm of a thousand conflicting emotions. Though dominant among them was anger towards Marcy: anger at her for being pregnant, anger at her for surprising him by looking like this, anger for having seduced him to begin with, which he felt sure was how she had gotten this way.

Marcy steeled herself against her thoughts of self-pity with huff of resolve. She took a second to compose herself by briskly wiping most of the tears from her eyes and sweeping her loose hairs back behind her ears. Then she turned to her unwelcome visitor.

"Listen, Paul..." she began, her tone far more conciliatory than it had been a moment ago.

"Is it mine?" Paul interrupted, staring at her with eyes that were both vindictive and frightened.

Marcy had sensed this question was coming, but she hadn't expected it to be sprung on her so soon. She contemplated her options. Should she lie to him - tell him the baby was someone else's? Or should she tell him the truth? It was a complicated matter, far too complicated to resolve in the split second she had at her disposal.

She opened her mouth, but she had absolutely no idea what to say to the father of the life growing inside her. She met his gaze for a moment, but quickly turned away, effectively retreating from the painful question.

Though it wasn't verbal, Marcy had given Paul a clear answer to his question: the answer he had been dreading. Right out of left field, it turned out that he was mere weeks away from becoming a father. His head sunk on to his chest. His legs became so weak and shaky it felt like he could collapse on to the ground at any moment.

"We should talk," Marcy softly suggested.

Paul nursed the steaming white coffee on the table before him, scarcely aware it was even there. The café's young waiter practically had to twist Paul's arm to get him to order it. He did his best to tempt Paul's into ordering one of the café's tempting meals, as well, but Paul had lost his appetite.

Marcy had been far less fazed by the afternoon's events. She ordered a double serving of cheery pie to go along with her white tea and began tucking in almost as soon as the plate hit the table.

It was she who suggested that they come to this café. They had an awful lot to discuss and being so far along, Marcy could hardly stand around on the curbside all afternoon. She had made a point of picking out the most secluded booth in the room; so long as they kept their voices down they would have all the privacy they needed.

Paul looked on in astonishment as Marcy devoured the meal before her like a lawnmower. She glanced up at him and noticed his furrowed brow.

"Pregnant," she justified her appetite with a shrug.

"Yeah. I noticed," Paul replied with dry sarcasm that made the atmosphere extremely uncomfortable. "So... you're looking well," he commented, in an effort to dispel the silence.

"Thanks," Marcy politely acknowledged.

"Is everything... going okay?" Paul asked, struggling to word the question in a way that felt appropriate.

"Yeah," she nodded in a cheery tone. She was about to make a crack about life being as good as it could be with a person stuck inside her, but she quickly decided against it. "I'm healthy. Baby's healthy..."

"Good," said Paul, trying to sound pleased. "How far along are you?"

"31 weeks," Marcy replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

"31 weeks..." Paul softly repeated. "So, four weeks a month, four eights are 32... almost 8 months... March, Feb, Janu..." he muttered to himself as he did the arithmetic in his head.

"So it was at the cabin," he sombrely declared when he had finished his calculations.

"Yeah," Marcy softly confirmed, sensing the tone of the conversation was taking a turn for the worse.

"Goddamnit!" Paul sighed with a quiver in his voice as he rested his temples in his hands. "You said it would be safe!" he remarked, in a voice that was an eerie combination of accusing and discrete all at once.

"No, I didn't!" Marcy countered with a defensive glare.

"I asked you about using a fucking condom and you said you were safe!" Paul whispered, pointing his finger at her for emphasis.

"I said I was *healthy*! I never said I was on birth control," she clarified.

"Oh, don't pull that legal, disclaimer-in-the-small-print crap on me, Marcy! You knew what you were saying..." Paul lashed out at her, holding back every urge he had to raise his voice.

"I only said I was *healthy*! I thought we'd be dead in 24 hours, Paul! Why the fuck would I think it mattered if I was on the pill or not?" Marcy spoke over him, her aggression mirroring his.

"*You* fucking threw yourself at me, I asked you about putting on a fucking condom and *you* said I didn't need one," Paul continued beating the dead horse.

"Okay, so if you'd known that I wasn't on the pill, would you have done things differently?" Marcy challenged him in a calm, confident voice. Paul opened his mouth, but Marcy cut him off before he could answer, "Honestly?"

The question gave Paul pause.

"You know, I don't know if you remember, Paul, but things were pretty fucking bad up in that cabin. It really seemed like we weren't gonna make it out. And I think it's safe to say that at the time neither one of us really gave a shit about whether or not what we were doing was sensible."

Paul shook his head with an angry scowl as Marcy defended her deceitfulness. There was truth in her words about Paul's own carelessness during the baby's conception, but he was too bitter to see it.

"You lied to me," he told her.

Marcy rolled her eyes in frustration.

"Whoa, wait..." he continued as something suddenly dawned on him. "If it happened in the cabin then... wouldn't you have known about it by the funeral?" He could tell by the guilty look that suddenly washed over Marcy's face that the answer was "Yes."

"So you knew? That whole night we... you knew the whole time? And you never said a word! Unbelievable!" he fumed.

"Paul, I... Okay, I knew I was pregnant, but I hadn't figured out what I was going to do about it," Marcy justified the omission. "Matter of fact, at the time, I was pretty sure I was going to terminate it."

It was an admission that caught Paul's full attention. He was surprised by the poignant honesty he could see reflected in her eyes.

"I figured if nothing was ever going to come of it, then you never needed to know," she said.

"I had a right to know," Paul responded after taking some time to consider what Marcy had told him, "especially when it turned out like this!" he said, gesturing to her belly once again.

Marcy couldn't argue with his feelings. She hadn't decided to keep the pregnancy from him lightly.

"I guess you're right," Marcy sheepishly admitted as she gobbled another bite of pie. "I thought about calling, you know? But who the hell wants to have that conversation, right? In the end I guess I just figured that you'd be better off without the worry."

Only now that she said that thought out loud did she realize that Paul's face was absolutely covered in worry. She felt sorry for him, but she also realized that Paul's fears about the prospect of fatherhood were just what she needed to secure the cooperation that she so desperately needed.

"Listen, Paul," she began in her most genial tone. "I know this all must've come as a pretty big shock to you. But if you're worried about child support or whatever, then don't. I'm not planning on keeping it."

Paul stared at her in confusion. What did she mean? Surely she was too far along to have an abortion now.

Marcy leaned in closer and lowered her voice, betraying how anxious she felt about what she was about to disclose. "I've arranged for a private adoption. It's all taken care of.

"The thing is that when I filled in the paperwork, I said that I didn't know who the father was. So, if you show up now and tell people who you are then... well, it could really fuck things up. I really, really need you to be cool about all this."

She studied Paul's face as he absorbed what she was telling him, but his expression was unreadable.

"Look, it's better this way. For everybody," Marcy asserted. "I've met the couple. They're really nice. He's in pharmaceuticals - makes a great living. I really think the kid'll do great with them.

"And come on, Paul. Would you really want the stress of having a kid at, what? 21? 22?"

Paul didn't react, but Marcy could tell her words struck a chord with him.

"I know I don't know you all that well..." Marcy admitted, "but I'm pretty sure that this isn't what you had planned for your life. It sure as hell isn't what I had planned for mine," she said with a remorseful chuckle.

"There doesn't have to be a problem. All you have to do is just leave town and forget you were ever here; forget you ever saw me," Marcy bargained.

Paul didn't answer, which made Marcy increasingly nervous.

"Please?" Marcy added, in the soft, sweet voice she had successfully used countless times throughout her life to get her way. She reached out and placed her hand gently upon Paul's.

Paul looked up at her but said nothing. However, Marcy gleaned from the lack of fire in his eyes that he had no inclination to fight her in this matter. There was no irrational broody instinct inside him pushing to claim his offspring for himself. She was cautiously optimistic that once he had processed everything she had told him, Paul would appreciate the logic of what she'd said and would leave her in peace.

She leaned back, giving Paul some time to think while she continued with the delicious pie before her.

"When you said you didn't know..." Paul softly uttered.

"What?" Marcy responded.

"When you told the adoption people you didn't know who the father is. Was that true?"

At first Marcy thought she'd misheard him. She hadn't explicitly told Paul he was the father, but she was sure he'd understood.

"I mean, really? Is there a chance that maybe you don't actually know?" Paul clarified.

Marcy awkwardly swallowed the piece of pie in her mouth. Again, she was faced with the difficult dilemma of whether or not to lie to Paul. If she let him believe that there was a chance he mightn't be the father, that might make him feel better. But on the other hand, the blow of realizing he had gotten her pregnant had already hit him. Marcy figured that absolute confirmation would do little further damage. Besides, lying to him could have consequences, particularly if he kept pressing the matter until he pulled the lie apart. In the end, she decided it wasn't worth the risk.

She shook her head softly, denying him his last ray of hope as gently as she could.

"No," she silently mouthed.

Paul sighed.

"Jeff always wore condoms," Marcy explained, "and there was no one else when..." she trailed off, beginning to feel uncomfortable discussing her sex life, or more specifically, lack thereof, in the aftermath of the cabin incident. "It's definitely yours."

"Damn," Paul quietly lamented after a lengthy pause and another loud sigh.

They sat there together in silence for a long time. Paul simply stared at the cup of coffee in his hand which he still hadn't so much as sipped. Marcy finished off what little remained of her pie, her enthusiasm for eating dampened somewhat by a lingering concern that Paul might make trouble for her future plans.

She thought about the astonished expression on his face when he had first seen her baby bump; the way he'd been staggering through their conversation in a daze ever since.

"You really didn't know, did you?" Marcy finally realized.

Paul looked up at her, his emotional weariness painted all over his face and answered, "No. No one at college does."

That wasn't true. In a moment of desperation, Marcy had confided in two close friends, Steph and Jane, that was pregnant. After she had settled in Calloway, she had even dropped them a line to let them know where she was living. However, she had never told them who had gotten her pregnant, nor where it had happened.

When Paul had first walked into her workplace, Marcy had jumped to the conclusion that one of her so-called "good friends" had betrayed her confidence and gossiped to Paul about her condition. Paul, realizing that he could well be the father then travelled across the country to have his suspicions confirmed. But now she realized that her doubts were unfounded: neither Steph nor Jane had betrayed her. Her shameful secret was safe.

That still left one important question.

"So what the hell are you doing here?" she asked Paul gently.

Paul shrugged.

"Well, I... I guess I... I don't know," he muttered. He wasn't being intentionally obstructive, he genuinely didn't know what the answer was. His lustful ambitions towards Marcy hadn't simply been dashed by discovering her in such a ripe condition - they had been completely forgotten! He could remember making the long drive to this place, but his reason for doing so was a mystery to him. In many ways, it almost felt like he was coasting through a nightmare, where one minute he was graduating college and the next he was sitting across a table from a woman with his baby in her womb.

In that awkward silence Marcy quickly deduced what Paul couldn't: he had driven all this way just to see *her*.

It was a staggering revelation to say the least, but it was only half an answer to her question. Why had he come to see her? Had he really come all this way just to check up on her emotional wellbeing? The last time she had seen him - the night of Karen's funeral - had been a rough time for both of them. They had been able to give each other some measure of comfort, but they were still plagued buy a great deal of grief and trauma when they parted ways.

They'd never been particularly fond of one another; the tragedy they'd endured at the cabin and the impulsive mistake they made therein were really the only things they'd ever had in common. But Marcy had always found Paul to be a sensitive, considerate guy. She wouldn't put it past him to have grown concerned about her when she didn't return to college for the final semester. But concerned enough to travel all the way across the country just to check up on her? Now that was surprising!

On the other hand, Marcy couldn't help but consider the other side of their history: the lively, no-strings sex side. Despite the dry, occasionally frosty nature of their overall relationship, there was no denying that their hook-ups had left Paul extremely satisfied.

Was this visit simply a long distance booty call?

Marcy was more inclined to believe the latter. In fact, she actually hoped it was the latter. The idea of Paul going to so much trouble to make an emotional connection with Marcy may have been sweet, but it made her uneasy. Baby or not, Marcy had never been interested in a deep relationship with Paul. He was nice enough but there were just too many bad memories and complications associated with him. The idea that he had come all this way to reach out to her, only to be repaid with the shock revelation that she was carrying his child only made this scenario more disturbing.

But as she reflected on her theory that Paul had driven so far just to screw *her*, when there was no shortage of fuckable women on the east coast, Marcy couldn't help but smirk. It seemed that she had left quite an impression on him all those months ago.

It was a surprisingly welcome ego boost for Marcy. It'd been months since she'd been able to look at a full-length mirror. Every time she looked at her body these days, all she saw was a hippopotamus. Knowing that the growth was completely natural and anticipating it had allowed Marcy to take it in her stride. In fact it had been such a seamless transition that she'd all but forgotten that not so long ago she'd actually been proud of her looks.

Paul coming here turned out to be a stirring reminder that Marcy's natural form was so desirable that a man would drive across the country just to get a repeat taste. It reminded her what it was like to feel attractive. She mightn't have had her gorgeous body anymore, but she nonetheless took to heart all these fond memories and flattering sensations which Paul had stirred up. It felt really good to be reminded that hidden behind the baby belly was a sexy young woman and it gave her renewed hope that after the birth, with some hard work she could be sexy again.