The Maybe Daddy

Chapter Two

Affie got there five minutes too late, though Mandy hadn’t plucked up the courage to check the results.  She stood by the kitchen counter, rubbing her arms furiously, as if trying to get warm.  Affie went straight to her, and threw her arms around her friend.

‘We’re gonna get through this, no matter what that little stick says. Okay?’

Mandy nodded, numbly. She felt as if pins and needles coursed through her arms and legs, her body seemed a lead weight, and she was incapable of moving.  Affie held her close, feeling her friends heart beat coursing fast, and trying to be the level headed one, she decided to step closer to the test.

Mandy had placed it on the coffee table. Light was streaming in to the lavish apartment, and as she gingerly approached it, she took a moment to look around the room. At years of hard work paying off for a dear friend. She was surprised at the lump in her throat. Her usually cool calm exterior was about to be dented. If this test was a positive she feared the worst for Mandy.  She’d be forced to choose between her job and her child, that much was for certain. Her hours, the travel, they weren’t condusive to being a mother.

Even as she bent down, to pick up the test, the results were obvious. Every girl knew what two lines meant, whether you’d done a test before or not. She tried not to react, but she knew her back stiffened, and she knew that Mandy would pick up on that.

‘It’s positive’ Mandy sighed, and dropped down to the floor, her back against the counters.  Mandy’s shoulders heaved with sobs. Affie came and sat with her, the offending test in her hands still. For a while, all she could do was be there for her friend. Words weren’t necessary right now, where there was so much uncertainty. Affie felt her friends head slope down onto her shoulder and she stroked her hair.

She had called Allegra Cascarino the following morning, feigning a stomach bug. Now and again staff made use of the website to login remotely and edit articles, if they couldn’t get into the office. She knew Allegra often used the site to track workload whilst attending meetings out of town.  She decided to keep her mind busy and continue working on her new feature. She had been given a list of the latest bedroom furniture innovations, from various designers, and she was to create a virtual bedroom space for those looking to follow the seasons trends.  As she worked, she ignored the incessant beeping of her phone. Affie had left reluctantly, but she knew of no words of comfort that could ease her dearest friends mind. 

She knew she had a catalogue somewhere from a new German designer, Ez Klinsmann, and between bouts of sickness, she rifled through a pile of papers in the kitchen. As she tossed aside takeaway menus and bills, she found the flyer for the club ‘Risk’. Breathing deeply, once more trying to resist the urge to be violently sick, she ran her manicured nail over the embossed logo. Without another seconds thought, she grabbed her coat. 

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

The night before had been a roaring success, and a team of cleaners canvassed the club, sprucing it up for the next night of business. Mandy sidestepped a portly man cleaning the reflective black door, and entered the club. In spite of her inebriation, she did remember arriving here, and admired the contemporary coolness, the modern touches that would draw people back week after week.  She strolled up to the bar, the fresh air she had filled her lungs with protecting her from her morning sickness. At least for now.

The bartender looked up, one eye brow raised. ‘We’re closed lady.’

‘I know. I just need help finding someone.’

He was around thirty five, sturdy, with piercings through his eyebrow, and dotted down his ear lobe. A quick check of his hands revealed no tattoo, and she was relieved. He wasn’t her type, drunk or not.

‘You finished staring’ he teased.

She swallowed, her cheeks reddening. ‘I….’

‘You city girls are all the same’ he chuckled, dragging a keg from under the counter. Enjoying the blush flooding across her face, he smiled. ‘Who do you need to see?’

She inhaled sharply, placing her hands in her pockets, nervously. ‘I was wondering if you knew something about a guy who was here a few weeks ago. He had a tattoo on his hand.’

The man started to guffaw with laughter. ‘Doll, people pass in and out all night long. I’ve seen tattooed hands, but I wouldn’t remember a particular guy! What did he do?’

She winced at his words, lowering her head. The words spluttered out ,  ‘I’m pregnant’. The mere mention of those words suddenly hit her hard, like a hard punch in the gut, and she swallowed as a wave of bile threatened.  The bar tender stepped from behind the counter and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

‘Jono, can you help this lady out? She’s looking for a guy that might have been here a few weeks ago, he had a tattoo on his hand?’

Mandy was aware of a presence behind her,  she gave a sideways glance at a tall stringy man. His shaggy dirty blond hair was combed backwards, and like the bar tender he had a variety of piercings adorning his face. 

The stringy man narrowed his steel grey eyes at her. ‘What did the tattoo look like?’

‘It was a sun with some Arabic script…I think?’

‘No’ the younger man said, instantly. ‘But we get so many in here….’

‘Told her that’ the bartender affirmed, shrugging. ‘I’m sorry miss, not the news you wanted huh.’

She thanked the two men and fled from the club, the urge to throw up was overwhelming. She didn’t know whether it was through her morning sickness, or exasperation at the situation she found herself in.

One week later:

Mandy returned to work, reluctantly. Her working hours would not be kind to her condition, morning sickness plagued her from the moment she woke till mid afternoon. The only mercy was that her office had a bathroom attached. She shuddered at the thought of running through the busy office space to the shared ladies room and spewing in front of her colleagues.  Allegra had been moderately pleased with her article and had asked her to be her escort to a fashion show in New Jersey, held by Ez Klinsmann at the end of the week. In addition to her bespoke, highly coveted furniture range, she had branched out into the world of couture fashion. As the magazine had been supporters of her work from day one, they had VIP seats for the front row. The event would be covered on their website, and Mandy was to construct the article and provide photographs.

This would be her chance to meet someone she respected, and Allegra rarely asked anyone to accompany her unless highly pleased with their work.  It was an opportunity to look into another world, one that Affie was more accustomed with, but one she had great regard for.  Her initial excitement at her invitation was marred by the situation she could not yet deal with.

As she walked through the office, she never expected a fanfair, the girls she worked with were cool and aloof and in spite of them often having Friday evening drinks together, their relationships remained distant. One girl, Amelia Henstridge, had been a little more friendly from day one. She was a mere intern, but had garnered the attention of their mutual boss. She often worked late, and delivered coffee to all and sundry with a smile plastered on her face. Chirpy even on a Monday morning, she fell into stride with Mandy and accompanied her to her office.  

‘Mands, I have been so worried’ she gushed, holding her in a half embrace, her other hand holding a steaming mug of coffee. She set the cup down on Mandy’s desk and stepped back. ‘I’m not gonna break out in spots or catch some lurgy am I’ she screwed up her nose. At nineteen, she was endearing to most of the team, and in spite of being the niece of one of the board members, she was down to Earth.  Rumour had it that she had shunned college, wanting to pursue a career with a non academic direction. Allegra was impressed with her style, and her affinity for colour schemes that worked.

Mandy poured through the pile of mail that had been left on her desk. ‘No Amelia, it isn’t catching. Don’t worry.’ The coffee streamed through her nostrils, making her eyes water. She usually loved a cup to start her day, but the deep bitter scent of the coffee beans made her want to retch. She moved the up to the copier by the door and carried on busying herself with scanning a list of notes Allegra had left her pertaining to a meeting they were due to attend at 10am.

‘Marcus Fielding dropped by twice this week’, Amelia purred, sitting on the edge of her desk. She knew now that this visit was to collect some gossip, and as Mandy fought against her nausea, she glared at the intern. ‘I hope you told him to take a hike. He’s such a chauvinist, ugh the thought of him turns my stomach’

Adding to that lovely nausea.

‘He’s not that bad!’ Amelia defended, crossing her arms over her svelte form. ‘He’s got the figure of a quarterback, and the face of a top model.’

‘There’s more to men than looks’ Mandy wagged her finger, warning her younger colleague.

And I have no idea what the father of my child even looks like!

‘Looks help though’ winked Amelia. ‘Hey why don’t you and I go out tonight? Somewhere quiet? Have a little catch up?Something to eat? Maybe net ourselves some of New Yorks most eligible?’

That coffee smell is going to make me heave any moment….

Mandy took a guess that Amelia had no shortage of suitors. She was pert, young, and had a naivete that most men would take advantage of.  She reminded her of a younger Natalie Portman, perfectly symmetrical face and sparkling green eyes.  At twenty six, Mandy felt ancient in comparison.

Sitting down in her chair, feeling a little woozy, she found herself against her better judgement, agreeing to the night out with Amelia. Anything to take her mind off the club and the position she now found herself in.  Amelia skipped out of her office, and Mandy rushed to the bathroom taking the coffee with her. She flushed it away, and spent twenty minutes hugging the toilet bowl, begging for her nausea to abate.

The meeting thankfully went without a hitch. She took a back seat, and pretended to listen intently to the advertising companies proposal to include some pull out brochures in the magazine.  Her mind was focussed on anything but her fuzzy tongue, and the inability to swallow without it feeling as if a ball of cotton wool was lodged there.

Affie dropped by at lunch, and the conversation was dull. They both ignored the elephant in the room. Affie didn’t want to cause a rift with her friend by bringing up the subject she knew she wasn’t ready to address and in comparison everything else seemed trivial. For the first time in years, she took her leave early, stating that she had a complicated procedure to perform and she needed to brush up on details of the technique, before her client arrived. 

The afternoon sped by, Mandy busying herself with admin jobs she hadn’t been able to do last week, and as the clock ticked over to 5pm, Amelia appeared in her doorway. Nausea now in check, she looked forward to a quiet meal with her colleague, and as Amelia linked her arm through hers she looked down at her stomach. Her high waisted trousers did a good job of concealing the bloat she felt, but soon enough her petite frame would give it away.  Sighing, she looked at Amelia’s almost concave stomach, visible through the tight sheer blouse she wore.

‘So what is it exactly about Marcus that turns you off?’ Amelia questioned, taking a bite of her salad.

Small mercies. She ordered a salad and the soup. My sense of smell can deal with that.

Mandy wiped the corner of her mouth with a napkin. The tomato and basil soup had been refreshing and actually edible, unlike so many of her favourite foods lately.

‘I went on a date with him a few days after Aaron and I broke up. Never again. He was lecherous and….’

A hand tapped her on the shoulder, Amelia’s face said it all.

‘Hi Marcus’ she greeted, feeling heat on her cheeks.

‘Were you talking about me, sweet cheeks?’ he dragged a chair from an empty table and pulled it up to their table, sitting on it backwards.

‘Absolutely not’ She retorted, rolling her eyes at Amelia who was taking great pleasure in her colleagues discomfort, sniggering into her napkin.

He was oblivious, running his fingertip down Mandy’s cheek. She recoiled, the taste of bile resurging. As handsome as he was, as rugged and appealing as an outsider might deem him to be, she knew he was the least trustworthy man she could attach herself to.  His reputation involved bed hopping and an ego the size of the continent. He didn’t give up though, he saw Mandy as a challenge and was drawn to her feisty nature.  He knew she’d be a tigress in bed, nothing like the usual mousy, timid city girl, all talk and no substance.

She pulled his hand away, rubbing her cheek as if he had left a trail. Much as a slug might!

‘I was just saying to Tristan’ he pointed to his equally licentious friend, leaning against the bar making eyes at Amelia. ‘You ladies look like you need your Monday night perking up a little. Shall we hit the bars?’

Amelia bounced in her chair, eyes wide and doe like. ‘Ooooh can we Mands? Please?’

Mandy was tired, her eyes beginning to feel hot and grainy. The short paragraph online, she had made herself read, had told her this was very common in early pregnancy.  The truth was, she had fought the urge to fall asleep since early afternoon.

Great. The vomiting ceases, and the fatigue begins. I am the life and soul of the party!

Determined to fight against her drooping eyelids, she smiled broadly at Amelia. ‘Okay. Just a few bars. I have to work tomorrow, you do too!’

Amelia blushed, looking suggestively towards Tristan, eyes shuttered, long eyelashes toying with him. ‘You are the best. You wont regret it!’

But she did regret it. The instant she was jostled by intoxicated bankers, and lawyers, some celebrating days that brought a boost to their bank balance, others melancholy and wiping away the evidence of a bad day with a drink. The first bar, ‘O’Malley’s’ was an Irish pub, and a favourite of the younger wall street crowd. Buzzing even on a Monday night, she got the impression Marcus and his henchmen came here often.

As Tristan did the gentlemanly thing, much to Amelia’s delight, they were all presented with a sound of garish green shots. The mere scent turned her stomach, and she was unable to hold back the queasiness that churned in her gut. Standing, she rushed, pushing people away, to the ladies room.  As she lost the meal she had just had, and garnered disgusted stares from her fellow women glossing their lips and gossiping by the sinks, she tried to regain her composure.  In her dizzy, breathless state, she didn’t notice Amelia stood right behind her. A supportive hand was placed on her shoulder, as she stood panting over the toilet bowl, the door hanging open in her rush.

‘Oh gosh, do you think the food at Giuseppe’s was off?’ Amelia staggered to the sinks, clutching her own stomach. 'Ugh, just when I'm about to get lucky with that stud, Tristan!'. She sank against the sinks.

 The other ladies vacated the bathroom quickly, leaving them on their own.

‘No.’  Mandy sighed. ‘I’m pregnant.’