Pretty Little Mistake

I enter the care home with the same sense of foreboding I’ve had for months.

Watching someone you care about slip away and get weaker day by day is a hard pill to swallow. Especially for someone like me, who just wants to fix everything. This is one thing I can’t do a damn thing about.

“Today’s a better day,” Anna, one of the nurses, says when she spots me striding into the building.

Good days have been few and far between, and even those aren’t great.

I settle myself in the chair in my father’s room. He’s sleeping, his skin pale and almost translucent in areas, the blue of his veins standing out starkly in the fluorescent lights.

I turn some music on in the background and sit with him while he sleeps. I like to think he knows I’m here, but it’s probably a ridiculous hope.

One of the nurses stops by to check in on my dad. She shoots me a sympathetic look. I hate the pity I see in their eyes now. They’ve worked here long enough to sense when someone’s time is near. Being bedridden is hard on the body, and he’s had two different infections in the past few months. It’s all taken its toll, and his body is shutting down.

“How are you doing?”

I have to bite my tongue not to snap at her, that I’m not in the mood for small talk. “Fine,” I say instead. I know she’s just trying to be friendly, but sometimes it’s hard to remember that when I’m so close to losing control.

I hate feeling so fucking helpless.

“Do you want me to bring you a drink while you’re here?”

I shake my head. “That’s okay. I won’t stay long.”

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask one of us.”

She leaves the room, and once again I’m left with my thoughts and the man in the bed.

He stirs, eyes slowly peeling open.

I hate that I didn’t find him sooner. Maybe he wouldn’t be dying right now if I had. The other facility did a number on him, not really caring for him, and they haven’t been able to do much here because of his already-weakened state.

“Hey,” I say when he finds me in the chair. I swear there’s a smile in his eyes. “You look good.” His eyes narrow like he’s telling me I’m full of shit. He couldn’t talk much before, and the last infection left him without a voice. When he tries to speak, it’s more of a wheeze than anything else. “Lennon’s doing well. The baby too. I wish you could meet them.” I leave out the part where I haven’t told Lennon about him. I don’t know why I haven’t. I know she’d be happy for me, that I found him, but a part of me feels like, what’s the point? I know it’s the wrong way to think. “Would you want to meet them? Well, her. The baby’s not here yet.”

He blinks once.

That means yes.

We’ve developed our own secret language to be able to communicate with each other now that he doesn’t have any words at all.

“Okay. I’ll ask her.” And I will if that’s what he wants, which clearly it is. He deserves to look at someone else besides these nurses and me day in and day out.

I settle more comfortably into the chair, knowing I’ll be staying now until he drifts back out.

My stay ends up being two hours long.

A good day, indeed.

“Are you sure you don’t want one of these, Sulli?” Brendan digs into an apple pie at a diner near the office.

Since I’m hardly there these days, I wanted to catch up with my friend.

“I’m sure.”

He grins, oblivious of the crumbs around his mouth. “That’s right. You have to stay in shape. Some of us”—he pats his stomach—“don’t care.”

“If I wanted the pie, I’d eat it.” Which is true. I’m not much of a pie person. I prefer ice cream as my dessert of choice.

“Sure you would. How’s the wife?”

I roll my eyes at his joke. “She’s fine.”

I wonder what he’d think if I told him that we’re not even a real couple. We act like one, but we’ve still never defined those lines.

“She’s fine? That’s all I get?”

I sigh, grabbing a fry from my half-eaten plate of food and then shoving it in my mouth. “She’s tired of being stuck in the apartment, and she’s growing a literal child in her body, so that makes her irritable.”

“But you’re surviving?”

“Yep.” I grab another fry.

Brendan shakes his head, an amused smile curving his mouth. “I have to say, I’m surprised at seeing you settle down. Not that you dated much to begin with, but in case no one’s ever said this to you, Sulli, you can be kind of scary.”

“I just have one of those faces.”

“Huh?”

“The intimidating kind.”

He polishes off his apple pie. “You do,” he agrees. “How do you feel about becoming a dad? I don’t have any experience on that front, but I have to say I think I’d be terrified.”

I relax into the booth. It feels good to get my mind off my dad for at least a little while. “I wasn’t expecting to become a parent yet, maybe not ever, but I’m looking forward to it.”

“Are you having a baby shower? My girlfriend told me to ask.”

“Oh.” I scratch at the stubble on my cheek. “That’s a real thing?”

“According to her, yes.”

“I haven’t thought about it. Lennon hasn’t mentioned it either.”

“You should ask her about it. You know these women: sometimes they keep things to themselves as a test to see if we’ll figure it out.” He chuckles obnoxiously.

“Lennon’s not like that,” I defend, getting pissed off on her behalf.

“Trust me, all women are.” Brendan might be my friend, but right now I want to punch him. I won’t. I have better control than that. Plus, he does have a point. Does Lennon want a baby shower? “Ask her.” He wipes his fingers on a napkin before dropping it onto the crumb-laden plate. “I’m sure Tiffany wouldn’t mind putting one together,” he says, referring to his girlfriend.

I’ve met her only once, and even I know she very much would mind.

“I’m sure if she says she does that she’ll want her friend to organize it. Plus, if my mom catches wind, she’ll want to be involved.” I want to get poor Tiffany off the hook.

“Ah.” He nods. “That makes sense.”

The waitress drops our bill off at the table, and I scoop it up before he can. The least I can do is pay for it, since he’s had to put up with my rude ass.

“Let me give you some money,” he insists, sitting up to reach for his wallet.

“I got it.”

I pass the cash to the waitress the next time she’s nearby, insisting on no change. She smiles in thanks and tells us to come back soon.

I shrug into my coat before heading out into the cold.

I can’t fucking wait for the weather to break. Maybe one day I’ll live somewhere warmer. As much as I love the city, I’m not a fan of the winters.

“See you next time, Sulli,” he calls, heading in the opposite direction. “And don’t forget to ask Lennon about the baby shower.”

I lift my hand in a wave, then tuck my head down against the wind on my trek to the nearest subway station.

When I get back to the apartment, I shrug off my coat and hang it on the rack beside the door.

“What are you doing?”

Lennon’s on the couch with a pad of paper and a pen, baby clothes stacked in neat piles in front of her on the coffee table.

“Taking inventory,” she says in a tone like it should be obvious.

“Of what?”

“What baby clothes I have—style and size, so I know what I need to get more of.”

I hesitate beside the couch. “Is this that whole nesting thing?”

She scratches the tip of her nose. “I think so. I want everything to be perfect.”

I don’t think now is the time to preach to the mother of my child how perfection doesn’t exist.

“I had lunch with Brendan. He asked about you.”

She smiles, folding some kind of footie pajamas before proceeding to tick something off in her notebook. “How is he?”

“Good, he’s good. He said his girlfriend mentioned something about a baby shower. If you were having one or not.”

“Oh?” She sets her notebook aside, sitting back.

“Do you want one?”

Her lips turn down in a frown. “I haven’t really thought about it. I suppose I should. One of the first things Laurel asked when I told her I was pregnant was if she could plan a baby shower. I kind of forgot about it. But if we’re doing one, it’s not going to be one of those no-guys-allowed things. You’re the dad. You should be there too.”

I chuckle at her rambling. “I’m sure my mom would love to come, maybe my dad too. We could invite the office.”

“Wow.” She laughs, shoulders shaking. “We have a real lack of friends and family.” She toys with the ends of the blanket in her lap, a forlorn expression clouding her face. I hate that her parents suck so bad, and that her brother is just like them.

“We have each other. It’s not about the amount of people you have but the kind of people you do.”

She looks at me with a softness in those big brown eyes that have always been my undoing. I find myself wanting to take her picture, so I do.

“What was that for?” She tries to pluck my phone out of my hands. “I look terrible.”

“You’re beautiful. Like always.”

She softens. “I think you like me.”

I hold up my thumb and index finger a millimeter apart. “Only a little.”

“I’ll say something to Laurel about the baby shower, see what she says.”

“Okay.” I sit down on the coffee table near a pile of clothes, and she gives me a look, just daring me to knock down her organized stack. “There’s, uh . . .” I rub my hands over my jeans. “There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

Wariness settles over her. I wonder what she thinks this is about. “Okay. What is it?”

“It’s nothing bad. I want to tell you about my dad.”

Her brow knits in confusion. “I know your dad.”

I shake my head. “My biological dad.” She gapes, her mouth wide open. I’ve taken her by surprise, which I expected. “I want to tell you about him, and then maybe you’d like to meet him?”

She nods vigorously. “Yes, tell me. Please.”

So I do. I start from the beginning and tell her all about my search to find my birth parents and all that I learned. She listens with rapt attention the entire time, never once making me feel crazy for wanting to find out about my birth family.

When I’m done, having spoken more than I think I have at one time in my entire life, she hugs me. It feels good, that simple human touch of being held. For so long I’ve denied myself this, convincing myself I don’t deserve it.

I was wrong.

If there’s one thing we all deserve in life, it’s to love and be loved.

And I think I really love Lennon. So much that it terrifies me.