“Thanks, girl.” I appreciate her effort, although I’m not sure if it’s going to be fruitful. It won’t be easy to get another job in seven days.
“Hey, what are friends for? I’m always on Team Amy.”
She hugs me hard, then takes off so she won’t be late for work.
I watch the door close. It feels so weird to be home alone on a Friday. I even got up early because my brain refused to sleep past five a.m. on a weekday.
My phone buzzes with a notification. I look at the screen.
–Dad: Hey, sweetie! Happy Friday!
He attached a selfie—hale and hearty with a huge smile and crinkling eyes. It makes me smile in return. He is truly the center of my universe, my rock.
I inhale deeply. It’s time to come clean about the baby and everything, but telling him through texts seems a little cold. It’s the kind of conversation that requires a call. I’ll try to be calm and steady, and come across like I’m in control. Then he won’t worry.
–Me: Is it okay if we talk?
–Dad: Of course!
Good old Dad. He picks up instantly when I call.
“Hey, sweetie pie!” he says.
“Dad…” I bite my lip, shocked at how shaky I sound. I thought I could talk about this without getting emotional.
“What’s wrong?” He’s serious now, with an overt I’m-gonna-kick-the-ass-of-whoever-made-you-cry tone.
“I’m pregnant,” I blurt out, then cover my eyes. I didn’t mean to announce it like this. He’s going to be so disappointed.
“Uh… Did you… The guy didn’t force you or anything, did he? I just want to be sure, since…you’re so upset.”
“No!” That’s where his mind went? “We both wanted to do it.” That part was for sure, although I don’t know about the rest.
“Okay. Well, uh, good. I guess.” There’s a pause. “And the baby…?”
“I want to keep it.”
“Okay.” His tone says, I respect your decision.
“I’m sorry.” My voice is brittle and small.
“For what, sweetie?”
“I feel like I’ve disappointed you.”
“Amy, no. Never. You’ve never disappointed me. I’ve always been proud of you.”
I sniffle.
“Honey, I’m already in love with your baby. And I’ll always be in your corner, no matter what.”
“Thank you, Dad,” I manage through the hot lump in my throat. This is how my father always is. And I want my baby to have it, too.
“So. Is your new job going to be less demanding, Give you some time to take care of the baby? Or do you want me there?”
His immediate offer to help out chokes me up, and I fan my hot face. I don’t have to be a fortune-teller to know the Blaire Group isn’t going to be flexible about my situation. Most firms aren’t, contrary to what their fancy HR-generated brochures claim. But somehow I can’t tell him that, not because I want to lie about it, but because I don’t see a future for myself at the Blaire Group yet.
“I don’t know,” I say.