couldn’t get me pregnant.”
“Yeah. So what?”
“So your great plan didn’t work out so well. I’m pregnant.”
Travis looked at her blankly. Lainey closed her eyes and shook her head. He was even dumber than she’d thought. She wondered if he’d always been this stupid, or if the steroids were melting his brain.
“Preg-nant,”
she said, sounding the word out.
“No way,” Travis said, and the color drained from his face.
“Dude
. What are you going to do?”
What are
you
going to do. Very nice, Lainey thought. Not that she’d expected a marriage proposal, but
still
. A little fucking support would have been nice.
“I’m going to get rid of it. Obviously.”
As the specter of fatherhood faded, Travis looked relieved. “Good,” he said, his eyes drifting back to the
The Simpsons
.
“Oh, no. You don’t get off that easily,” Lainey said, crossing her arms. “You’re paying for it.”
This did get his attention. “How much?”
Lainey shrugged. “I’m not sure. I think it’s around …” Lainey paused. She was about to say six hundred, which is what she knew for a fact one of her co-workers had shelled out for her abortion. But Lainey was pretty sure Trav wouldn’t insist on coming to the clinic with her, so she could probably get away with inflating the figure. “Eight hundred,” she said instead.
“Eight hundred? Are you kidding me?”
Trav used to buy Lainey things all the time. He’d even surprised her on her birthday with a Dooney & Bourke purse she’d been drooling over. Now, he got pissy if she asked for twenty bucks to pay for takeout. She knew he made a good living, but from what she could tell—and she’d made a habit of monitoring his bank account—he was spending over a thousand dollars a month on his drug habit.
“This is all your fault,” Lainey snapped. “If you wore a condom, like I told you to, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“I don’t like condoms. Why can’t you go on the Pill?”
“I tried the Pill. It made me gain weight.”
Travis glared at her. “What if I don’t have the money?”
Lainey crossed her arms and stared him down.
“How much do you think eighteen years of child support is going to cost you? You know they deduct that straight from your paycheck, right? Doesn’t leave a lot of money left over for your drugs, or gym membership, or your entrance fees to those stupid bodybuilding competitions.”
Trav’s face was no longer pale. Instead, it was slowly turning a mottled shade of red.
“Why are you being such a bitch?” he demanded.
“Why are you?” she retorted. “I know steroids shrink your dick, but I didn’t know they turned you into a whiny little girl.”
Travis stood suddenly, his shovel-like hands clenched into fists. Lainey wondered if he was going to hit her. She wasn’t afraid. He had slapped her once, and she’d responded by first kneeing him in the groin and then, when he was doubled over with pain, clipping him in the jaw with a neat right hook.
But Trav didn’t hit her. Instead, he spun around and punched the wall, leaving a dent in the drywall. He let out a roar of pain and shook his hand. “Shit! That really fucking hurt!”
Lainey rolled her eyes and turned away.
What an idiot
. “I’m calling the women’s clinic. The sooner I get this taken care of, the better.”
Lainey’s eyes fluttered open. Where the hell was she? And what was that smell? It reminded her of visiting her grandmother in the nursing home before she died, a depressing combination of bleach and urine. But then the fog began to lift, and piece by piece, it slowly came back to her.
She’d been at the clinic. Sitting in an exam room. They’d givenher a flimsy paper gown that gaped open, covering nothing. After the doctor examined her, the nurse came in to draw blood. The last thing Lainey could remember was watching the tip of the needle prick through the thin skin of her inner arm, and the blood bubbling up into the
“Yeah. So what?”
“So your great plan didn’t work out so well. I’m pregnant.”
Travis looked at her blankly. Lainey closed her eyes and shook her head. He was even dumber than she’d thought. She wondered if he’d always been this stupid, or if the steroids were melting his brain.
“Preg-nant,”
she said, sounding the word out.
“No way,” Travis said, and the color drained from his face.
“Dude
. What are you going to do?”
What are
you
going to do. Very nice, Lainey thought. Not that she’d expected a marriage proposal, but
still
. A little fucking support would have been nice.
“I’m going to get rid of it. Obviously.”
As the specter of fatherhood faded, Travis looked relieved. “Good,” he said, his eyes drifting back to the
The Simpsons
.
“Oh, no. You don’t get off that easily,” Lainey said, crossing her arms. “You’re paying for it.”
This did get his attention. “How much?”
Lainey shrugged. “I’m not sure. I think it’s around …” Lainey paused. She was about to say six hundred, which is what she knew for a fact one of her co-workers had shelled out for her abortion. But Lainey was pretty sure Trav wouldn’t insist on coming to the clinic with her, so she could probably get away with inflating the figure. “Eight hundred,” she said instead.
“Eight hundred? Are you kidding me?”
Trav used to buy Lainey things all the time. He’d even surprised her on her birthday with a Dooney & Bourke purse she’d been drooling over. Now, he got pissy if she asked for twenty bucks to pay for takeout. She knew he made a good living, but from what she could tell—and she’d made a habit of monitoring his bank account—he was spending over a thousand dollars a month on his drug habit.
“This is all your fault,” Lainey snapped. “If you wore a condom, like I told you to, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“I don’t like condoms. Why can’t you go on the Pill?”
“I tried the Pill. It made me gain weight.”
Travis glared at her. “What if I don’t have the money?”
Lainey crossed her arms and stared him down.
“How much do you think eighteen years of child support is going to cost you? You know they deduct that straight from your paycheck, right? Doesn’t leave a lot of money left over for your drugs, or gym membership, or your entrance fees to those stupid bodybuilding competitions.”
Trav’s face was no longer pale. Instead, it was slowly turning a mottled shade of red.
“Why are you being such a bitch?” he demanded.
“Why are you?” she retorted. “I know steroids shrink your dick, but I didn’t know they turned you into a whiny little girl.”
Travis stood suddenly, his shovel-like hands clenched into fists. Lainey wondered if he was going to hit her. She wasn’t afraid. He had slapped her once, and she’d responded by first kneeing him in the groin and then, when he was doubled over with pain, clipping him in the jaw with a neat right hook.
But Trav didn’t hit her. Instead, he spun around and punched the wall, leaving a dent in the drywall. He let out a roar of pain and shook his hand. “Shit! That really fucking hurt!”
Lainey rolled her eyes and turned away.
What an idiot
. “I’m calling the women’s clinic. The sooner I get this taken care of, the better.”
Lainey’s eyes fluttered open. Where the hell was she? And what was that smell? It reminded her of visiting her grandmother in the nursing home before she died, a depressing combination of bleach and urine. But then the fog began to lift, and piece by piece, it slowly came back to her.
She’d been at the clinic. Sitting in an exam room. They’d givenher a flimsy paper gown that gaped open, covering nothing. After the doctor examined her, the nurse came in to draw blood. The last thing Lainey could remember was watching the tip of the needle prick through the thin skin of her inner arm, and the blood bubbling up into the
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