Quarterback's Secret Baby (Bad Boy Ballers) (21 page)

"You should bring a girl."

I messaged back: "Why?"

Less than sixty seconds later, my phone rang. Barry. The guy didn't waste time.

"Kaden, hey man. Yeah, as I was saying, bring a girl to the gala on Saturday. You got someone in mind?"

"No," I told him, slightly exasperated. "I've only had two minutes to think about it, though, that might be why."

"Well, either way Kaden, the point is to bring a girl. OK?"

I hesitated. Barry was always like this, insisting I do this or that with little to no explanation. "Uh, OK," I said. "But, why? Is it some kind of rule?"

There was an audible sigh from Barry. "No," he replied, "it's not a rule. But you haven't been photographed with a woman - and your mom doesn't count - since you moved here. People are starting to talk."

"Oh are they?" I laughed. "What, like, I might be gay or something?"

"To be blunt, Barlow, yes. And I'd be lying if I said this wasn't about the sponsorships - they always like a high-profile romance with a pretty girl - but it's about your career as well, in general. You're a big fat star, my man. The NFL wants to use you in this capacity. What they don't want is rumors."

"Jesus Christ," I said. "Really, Barry? So what if I am gay?"

Barry was silent for a few seconds. When he spoke, I could tell he was choosing his words carefully. "Uh, well, Kaden, you, um - are you?"

"No!" I yelled, laughing my head off. "This is so stupid!"

"It may be stupid to you but it's my job to advise you and that's what I'm doing. Bring a girl. A pretty one. She doesn't have to be your actual girlfriend, she just needs to wear something sexy but tasteful and stand beside you on the red carpet with a smile on her face. Can you do that?"

A red carpet. I wish someone - anyone - had mentioned to me that being a football star was about half football and half schmoozing.

"Sure, fine," I conceded. "I'll bring a girl."

"She has to be pretty, Kaden. No trolls."

I rolled my eyes. "You're a piece of work, Barry, you know that?"

"Yep, I know it. Call me when you have someone in mind, I'll get Angela to find her a dress and deal with all that girl stuff."

Angela was Barry's long-suffering assistant. "Sure. OK. Yeah, I'll let you know."

We hung up and I lay back on the wide leather expanse of the newly-purchased, custom-made sofa I'd bought for the living room. Regular sized sofas didn't cut it in a room so big it was more gymnasium then relaxing space. Fuck. Who to invite? Any woman in America would have said yes, I knew that. But I didn't want to show up with some stranger, that would have been awkward. And I knew without a shadow of a doubt that Tasha would have said no. Politely, of course, but no all the same. There was only one other real prospect. I dialed Jess's number and, thankfully, she agreed. She seemed to think it was the funniest thing that had ever happened.

"Really?" She asked, giggling. "You have to bring a girl so they don't all think you're gay? That's so ridiculous, Kaden. What year is it?"

"I know, I know," I told her. "But Barry was insistent. Besides, it'll be fun. You can get all dressed up and then drink free champagne all night."

"Ugh, I don't even like champagne."

"Then I'll insist they only serve you Jack Daniels in a coffee mug, then. Just like at Brooks."

So I flew Jess out to attend the gala and we had a great time. Back then I was still pretty naive about the media, too, so it actually came as something of a shock when the next day the papers and internet gossip sites were all talking about Kaden Barlow and his girlfriend. They also managed to publish only the shots where I had my arm around her or the cameras had managed to catch one of us smiling at the other. It was annoying, and my first thought was actually about Tasha. I shut that down pretty quickly, though, because why would Tasha care? She'd been more than clear that our night together was a one-time thing. Still, the thought of her seeing those photos - and they were everywhere so I knew she probably would, even if it was just while she waited in line at the grocery store - bothered me. I tried to broach the subject with Barry but he shot me down when I suggested releasing a statement that she was just a friend.

"Bad idea, Kaden," he barked at me down the phone. "Very bad idea. That's just going to look even more suspicious. Just let it go - in fact, maybe that cute little red-head is interested in making a few more appearances with you, have you thought about that? I'm sure you could make it worth her while.'

I rolled my eyes. "Barry, I know this may be confusing for you, but she's my friend and I'm pretty sure she'd find it insulting if I started offering her cold hard cash to continue to be my friend."

"Sure, Kaden. No problem. It was just a suggestion. If she's willing to do it for free then you're right, there's no reason to spend money."

I was starting to suspect Barry might actually be one of those lizard-people the trashiest tabloids sometimes wrote stories about.

When I told my mother I was pregnant she cried. I'd already told everyone else in the family but I held off on telling her, sensing that her reaction might be ambiguous. She apologized for her tears almost immediately, too, but it was too late for that dagger not to have wounded me.

"It's not that I'm unhappy, Tash," she wheezed, pausing between each word - that pausing to catch her breath was getting worse, but we hadn't talked about it yet. Just noticing it happening was terrifying enough, for all of us. "A baby is always a blessing. I just - it's a big change, isn't it? Such a responsibility. I guess I always thought you would leave it a little later than I did. Have some time for yourself."

I knew that. I knew my mother had high hopes for me. She had children young and she raised them as a single mother. Not a one of us ever doubted her love for us but I knew there was a part of her that mourned the years she spent changing diapers and cleaning up barf - or that wished she had left it just a little bit later to start that stage of her life.

I sat down on the bed where she was resting and took her hand in mine.

"I know, Mom," I said. "I know you're not unhappy, you don't have to apologize. I understand that you want me to be fulfilled - to be happy. But you did it alone, especially when we were small. I have you - and Ray and Ceecee and Alisha and Rosa and all my friends. I'm not alone, not the way you were. And you're the reason I'm not alone. I'm not going to lie and say this was planned because it obviously wasn't but I've had some time to get used to it and I want to be a mom."

"I know you do, dear," my mother replied, drying her eyes with a tissue. "Maybe I'm just emotional because you're not my little girl anymore. I wouldn't trade the world for any of you, you know. But motherhood is a whole new world, you have no idea."

That's what everyone was saying to me - everyone who knew, anyway, which at that point was only the people in my family. No one at work knew, not even Jennifer. That changed by September, when the thickness around my middle began to reveal itself as a small, distinctive little bump and the time came for me to tell my friend. When I did, she immediately started to cry. I sat back, slightly shocked at her reaction, and said nothing because I didn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry," she said, welling up again.

"Jen," I started, when the silence became uncomfortable. "I - why are you upset? My mom cried, too, you know. When I told her. I thought you would be happy for me."

"Oh, I'm not unhappy," Jen sniffled. "I just - Nat, why didn't you tell me? You're almost five months. I thought we were friends?"

"Oh my God!" I screeched, realizing what she was saying. "Jen, no! I didn't - it's not like that. It took awhile to sink in, at first. It didn't feel real. I only told the rest of my family because I was puking all the time and they were starting to think something was wrong with me. I didn't mean to hurt you, it wasn't some secret I was keeping from you specifically. I just only recently accepted that it was even happening!"

Jen gave me a small smile. "I'm sorry, Nat. Ha ha, I'm such a jerk. You tell me you're having a baby and I start crying because my feelings are hurt. You're just - I guess I'm still figuring you out. Most women would be bursting to tell everyone they knew the day they passed the three-month mark. You're not like that. Sometimes I don't know if you realize how not like that you are."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Oh, I've told you this before, but you're a bit of a weirdo, Nat. You're so damned secretive. I know what it's about - your dad and all that. I guess I just wish, as your friend, that you could be a little more trusting with the people who love you."

"You're right. I know you're right," I told her. "I'm trying. You're the first person I've told outside of my family. And I really didn't mean for it to be hurtful or an insult, not at all. The opposite, actually."

Jen wiped her eyes and smiled. "Jeez, I really am an asshole, huh? You're pregnant! Congratulations! And I apologize for getting my messy emotions all over you."

We were sitting in the little café that was part of the same strip mall as the office. Jen got up and gave me a big hug, apologizing again even as I insisted it wasn't necessary - and it wasn't, because she was right. Emotional availability was not one of my strong points, I was aware of that. When she sat back down and after the waitress had delivered a second cinnamon bun for us to tear apart, Jen caught my eye.

"It's Kaden Barlow's, isn't it?"

I gave her a little nod. "Yep."

"Have you told him yet?"

I shook my head.

"When are you - or, I mean, are you going to tell him?"

"I think so. It's just - I don't know, I don't feel ready to yet. He's in Dallas now, playing for the Cowboys . I mean, he's a huge star, isn't he? I can barely look at the internet without seeing some fawning article about him. I don't want him to think I'm trying to trap him or get money from him or-"

"It doesn't seem like that's the kind of relationship you had with him at all, Nat," Jen said. "And besides, he was there, too, right? You didn't poke holes in any condoms. This is just as much his responsibility as it is yours. And you have a right to child support, by the way. Although, I don't know, he seemed really into you. Are you sure he would react badly?"

I wasn't sure Kaden would react badly. But that didn't mean I wasn't scared of it happening anyway. The truth was I'd just been refusing to think about it. Now that I couldn't look at myself in the mirror without seeing the evidence that I was, in fact, having a baby, everything had suddenly become that much more pressing.

"No. I mean, I don't know, Jen. Kaden is a good guy. I'm sure he'll support me financially, all of that. It's not really about that. I guess I just always hoped I would be married when I had a kid, you know? I promised myself I wouldn't ever have a baby with a man who wasn't going to be there for them, because I know what that feels like. And now here I am. No matter how much Kaden helps, he's not going to be here, is he? He's halfway across the country playing football. It doesn't matter how much money he has, he still can't be here."

Jen shrugged. "Maybe. I think you're being a little pessimistic, Nat, although I guess I shouldn't be surprised, should I? Everything you've ever told me about Kaden makes him sound like a great guy. Lots of families with both parents living at home are messed up. And lots of families with non-traditional arrangement aren't messed up. You're a smart girl and you've got a good head on your shoulders. I don't think this has to be anything like it was for your mom."

She was right. So why couldn't I get rid of that pit in my stomach, the mom-guilt threatening to set in before I even gave birth? I drove home that evening and went to bed that night with various scenarios of how I would tell Kaden the news playing in my head. And there, behind all of them, was another scenario: just not telling him. I didn't want Kaden's money. Or his fame. All I wanted was him, and that conundrum, the one that had been stubbornly persistent since we were two kids in high school, was as real as ever. There was already talk of the Cowboys going to the playoffs. Maybe even the Superbowl. Kaden had made it. Unlike me, he was in the place he'd always aimed for, his life's goal achieved.

Time passed and my bump got bigger. People started to talk - at work, anyway. At least Jen was there for me, deflecting any rumors, insisting that I had had a secret, non-Kaden Barlow boyfriend back in the spring that I just hadn't told anyone about. It was a little silly, but part of me was genuinely worried - the tabloids were very interested in Kaden. All it would take is one person to see dollar signs in their eyes and the whole situation could blow up into a huge mess. It was the last thing I wanted.

I kept postponing a decision on telling him, too. It kept getting pushed back a week, a couple of weeks. Then in December I found myself at my doctor's office, waiting for a routine blood test, when Kaden's face on the cover of a magazine caught my eye. So did the headline.

"Kaden Barlow In Love!" It screamed in bright yellow text, seemingly right at me. With one shaking hand, I reached out and picked it up, knowing every second that I wasn't going to like what I saw. There it was, right under a huge photo of his face on the front page, a smaller photo of him and a gorgeous redhead, both dressed to the nines and staring at each other with real affection in their eyes. As soon as I saw it I threw the magazine back onto the table like it was on fire.

Luckily the receptionist called me in to see the doctor before I had a chance to think too much about what I'd just seen. I was shocked, though, and a little teary. At one point the doctor asked me if I was OK.

"Oh, yes, I'm fine," I lied. "Just feeling a little emotional lately, it must be the hormones!"

Appointment over, I drove home gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles were white. It was real, what I'd seen. The photos of Kaden and the pretty redhead, gazing at each other. I tried to talk myself out of everything I was feeling.
What did you think was going to happen? He's gorgeous and famous, of course he was going to get into a relationship sooner or later. This changes nothing.

But no matter how hard I tried to convince myself that it was fine, it wasn't. I was angry, even as I knew I had no justification for it. My hands shook as I mashed potatoes for dinner, my jaw was tight. The feeling of betrayal nauseated me. All of this as I knew I had no claims on Kaden Barlow. I hadn't even told him about the baby!

That's how emotions are, though. Sometimes, they don't make any sense at all and that fact does nothing to diminish their intensity. Apparently, I'd been holding onto the idea of being with Kaden. In spite of all that I'd told myself, all the practicality I'd feigned - mostly to myself, as it turned out - there was nothing I could do, nothing I could tell myself, to make the sickening hollowness in my gut go away.

The next few days were unpleasantly reminiscent of that awful time in high school, after prom. I couldn't seem to think of anything but the photos I'd seen. And I couldn't stop tormenting myself by imagining the details. Did she feel the same way it made me feel when Kaden put one of his hands on the small of her back? Did he kiss her the way he used to kiss me, like part of him wanted to consume me whole? Did she feel that same tightening at the very center of her soul when he came?

Alisha caught me alone one day, resting in my bedroom on a Sunday afternoon.

"Tash?" She asked, knocking on the open door. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," I replied, sitting up at the tone in her voice, which seemed to suggest she had something important to talk about. "What is it?"

Alisha sat down and put her hand on my belly. "Is she - or he - awake?"

I still hadn't found out the sex and by that point I'd decided to let it be a surprise. "Seems to have settled down for now," I told her. "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong. I just, uh, I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Sure..." I said, still wary of the way her voice sounded.

"Yeah," Alisha started. "I don't - Tash, don't get upset with me, OK? I'm not telling you what to do, I want you to know that. I just want to ask you a question."

Even though she hadn't even asked yet, I could already feel the tension in my body rising in anticipation. No one ever says 'don't get mad' if they think you're not going to get mad. I gave Alisha a little gesture to let her know she could go on.

"Yeah, so anyway, Tash. You're - what - seven months now?"

I nodded.

"I guess I'm just wondering if you've given it any more thought to tell Kaden about the baby. He always seemed like a great guy, I'm not sure why you've been so resistant to the idea. This is his baby, too, and he is responsible for-"

"I don't want his money," I said abruptly, cutting Alisha off and then immediately apologizing. "Ugh, sorry. Sorry, Alisha. But I don't want his money. It's not about that."

"OK," Alisha said, speaking in that slow, calm way people do when they know you're on the edge of getting upset. "I'm not saying you do - it's pretty obvious you don't. But you're going to need help when that baby is born. This isn't an insult, it's just the truth. You're going to have to cut your hours at work, at least at first. It's not about wanting Kaden's money, it's about him being a father and having responsibilities to his child. You can't make those disappear, you know."

I looked out the window at a gray, monotone winter's day. I couldn't look at Alisha. "I know," I said robotically. "I understand."

A few moments passed. "So," Alisha finally said. "You're going to tell him?"

"No."

It was the first time I'd said it out loud. I think I surprised myself more than Alisha with such a definitive statement, actually. She paused again, too, clearly not finished talking to me but also unsure how to word whatever it was she was going to say next.

"I respect that, Tash. It's your decision and I respect that. I guess I just don't entirely understand it. Why are you being such a hard-ass about this? That guy was into you, you know. It was so obvious to everyone.'

She was fishing for an explanation. I knew I wasn't going to be able to give it to her without crying so I just told her to go check out the website of the magazine I'd seen in the doctor's office.