Emilie's Baby

Four

Emilie

Oh, my God. I'd said it out loud.

Pregnant.

Holy shit.

I stared up into the unseeing green eyes of Rowan, whose pale face rivaled the paint on the wall behind him. I'd been here for nearly forty-five minutes, and he'd not said a word since my big revelation. Mark, on the other hand, wouldn't shut up and kept yelling obscenities at inanimate objects throughout the living room, occasionally grumbling about how he couldn't believe that I was a baby having a baby. Part of me resented that statement, wanting to tell him that I wasn't the child he thought I was, but it would be pointless, really. Mark would always see me as the little girl who used to dance around the living room in a cape, yelling that I was going to save the world. In many ways, I was like his child. He helped mom raise me while dad was driving over the road.

“Fuck!”

I could only flinch at the despair behind the word, the sheer agony that seemed to echo in each syllable. I just sat there, listening to Mark and fidgeting with something, pretty much anything I could get my hands on. At the moment I was picking the numbers off of their TV remote.

“Pregnant?”

At the sound of a voice that wasn't Mark's, I looked up quickly, almost unsure of the sounds that Rowan had formed with his mouth. Had he finally said something?

“Dammit!” And again the string of profane language flew from my brother's mouth as he practically ran around the room, stomping his feet in an angry fashion.

“I'm going to be a father?” Again, I wasn't so sure that Rowan had actually spoken. I eyed him warily and waited, all the while keeping tabs on my twenty three year old brother who was throwing a fit like he was five. Though, I was more concerned about Rowan and the deathly pallor of his face.

“Holy fuck!”

“Shut the hell up, dude.” Came a strange voice followed by the sound of feet scraping against the floor. The sound of cabinets shutting echoed through the living room and I turned around to what unlucky soul had just wandered in on this joyous occasion. I had barely moved around enough to see before I felt a warm weight settling on my abdomen. Much to my shock, Rowan was on his knees in front of me, his large hand on the flat surface of my sweater covered stomach. His eyes were wide with awe and confusion, but he said nothing.

“Rowan?” I mumbled uncertainly. I wasn't sure if he was just accepting the fact that I was pregnant. I wasn't even sure how much I accepted this. I was nineteen, barely two years into college. I wasn't ready for this much responsibility. Hell, I was the person who could barely keep a plant alive! The only reason the damn thing survived is because Nick watered it when he remembered.

“Emilie,” Rowan began, looking up at me finally, the cloudy expression clearing up from his face, “I'm sorry.” His voice had taken on a raspy quality, one that was breaking my heart. “I'm so sorry. I know this isn't ideal... God, you're barely nineteen.” I could tell this he wasn't really trying to be articulate, he was just blurting out things that were running through his mind. I didn't mind, I just hoped he didn't say something that would cause Mark to fly off his rocker. “We'll figure it out, you won't go through this alone. I'll support you and this baby. I-” a loud bang from the kitchen interrupted him and I suddenly had the urge to stab the moron running around in there. “We'll figure things out as they come. We'll move in together, we'll figure out school together. I'll get a better job.” My heart was swelling with happiness. I was scared that he would reject it all. My eyes started to water and I blinked rapidly trying to fight the tears away. I didn't want to cry anymore, but the sound of the word 'together' had the feeling of relief washing over me.

“Don't cry! I didn't mean to make you upset, I'm trying to-” I threw my hand over his mouth quickly, fighting back sudden laughter at his panicked expression. If this was any indication to how easily he was going to spook, life would surely be interesting.

Rowan

Pregnant?

A baby?

I was going to be a father. 

Somehow, I wasn't as freaked out as I would have pictured myself to be. Sure, I wasn't exactly jumping for joy, but I wasn't exactly scared shitless.

Okay, so I was, but that was beside the point.

They way I looked at it, I really only had two choices once she'd said those words; One, I could deny and run, which I will admit, for a brief moment sounded pretty good. Or, two, I could be a man and actually take responsibility for my actions. The answer came easily because I sure as hell wasn't going to be a coward and run away from my this. I had no doubt that this was my child, either. Though, to say that I was glad it was her that this was happening with and not one of those other girls I'd previously been with was an understatement. 

I meant everything that I had said to Emilie, I was going to be there for her. I was going to be follow in my father's footsteps and do everything in my power to be the best dad I could, and I was going to be the best co-parent and do whatever I needed to keep Emilie happy.

“You're fucking getting married!” Mark growled after a moment of silence, stomping toward the hallway and slamming a door. I winced at the sound and groaned, listening to him throw things around in his room before he stormed out hold two black garment bags, his cell phone cradled against his ear. For a moment I was confused, but Emilie, who had turned around to face her brother, looked as if she were going to faint.

“...I'm not fucking kidding, dad. Pregnant.”

Well, I guess I take back everything I said before. It seemed my best friend had just signed my death warrant.

I wasn't going to live to see my child enter the world.