Patchwork Paradise(44)

“Okay.” I wanted to tell him to think about paternity tests and whatnot, but that wasn’t my place. Besides, he’d probably thought about that too. “Why didn’t she let you know while she was pregnant?”

“She thought she could handle it alone.”

I didn’t say the obvious. “Well . . . that’s unexpected, sure. And it’s a shock. But I mean . . . you have a good wage, a steady job. You’re an amazing person. Does she want you to be involved?” Naively, or maybe even stupidly, I warmed to the idea. “It’d be kind of cool, wouldn’t it? The baby would be with you like, what? Every other weekend? Or does she want a fifty-fifty split? Or does she only want money? Because you can fight that. Or not, whatever you want, obviously.” I frowned and my heart chilled a little. Did she want him with the baby permanently? As in a relationship? Did Thomas want that too? “But why can’t we date? I’m going to be insulted if you’re assuming I don’t want to be in a relationship with you just because you might come with a little extra.”

He laughed, a desolate sound. “Oh, Ollie.” He put his hand on my knee and held on. “It wouldn’t be like having a little playmate every other weekend. Liesbeth is suffering from severe postpartum depression. She’s been trying to fight it herself, but she has no family and all the party friends she had basically dropped her like a stone. She was still in college and had to put it on hold. I wish . . . I wish she’d reached out sooner.”

I felt bad for my selfish thoughts. “Jesus, Thomas, what happened?”

“She was having some unhealthy ideas, so she went to see a psychologist. He recommends she go to this new clinic in Bruges, an inpatient place where she’d stay for sixty days. If I don’t take the baby, he’ll go to foster care during that time. Probably longer.”

“Oh, Thomas.” And he wouldn’t let that happen. Of course he wouldn’t.

“But what do I know about caring for a baby, Ollie?” He looked so out of his depth that I wanted to hug him. “And even when she’s out after two months, she’ll be the one with every other weekend parenting time. I’d still have him eighty percent of the time. I don’t know what to do. I don’t have any family either, apart from my dad. And he might stop by every once in a while, but it’s not like he can babysit every time I go to work.”

“You’ll take him to day care. And you have me,” I said. “You have us, your friends. We’ll all help you.”

“But you’ve seen my place. It’s tiny! And definitely not babyproof. I have terrible, loud neighbors, and one with a scary dog. I can’t raise a child there. Oh my God. Oh my God, what am I going to do?” He set his beer down and covered his face. I rubbed his shoulders, the nape of his neck.

“You come live with me,” I said, even as I saw the glimpse of a possible future with him blink out. But that was irrelevant. It had been a blip. It could’ve been forgotten in no time. He had other, more important things on his mind now. “I have enough space, and you’ll be closer to work. You won’t be alone with a scary new baby, and my mom will want to help out too.”

Thomas stared at me with his big, brown, teddy-bear eyes. “Ollie, I can’t take you up on that.”

“Yes, you can. And you will. I’m lonely in this house, and it’s far too big for me. There’s plenty of room for both of us and a baby.”

His eyes were shining. “I’m so sorry. I really wanted—”

I gripped his hands and kissed his knuckles. “I know. And it’s fine. Maybe it’s for the best. Who knows? We might’ve ruined our friendship.”

“If a relationship didn’t do it, a screaming baby will.”

“Don’t be silly. I love babies.”





Oh my God, I did not love babies.

A week later Thomas stood on my doorstep, holding a tiny bundle of yellow fluffiness. Only within the fluffiness lay a creature with the lungs of Aretha Franklin. I heard him screaming before Thomas rang the doorbell, and we were unable to say hello as he wailed his unhappiness.

We’d moved in some of Thomas’s essentials the day after he received the “Surprise! You’re a dad!” news, and we’d agreed to leave the rest of his house until we’d given this thing a trial. I really did hope he’d stay. I hadn’t been lying when I said I was lonely.

I’d never really understood the difference. Alone and lonely had seemed like two lanes on the same road when I had Sam’s constant company, but I realized now they were different paths altogether. I didn’t mind being alone anymore. That was a transient state between one filled moment and the next. But loneliness was a presence, a hovering shadow that made my nights darker, my dreams restless, and my days a little empty.

“I thought you said you loved babies,” he told me, raising his voice to be heard. I was pretty sure his frightened-rabbit expression very much resembled mine.

“Uh, I love them in cute clothes as accessories in magazines?” I said, and that got a wan smile out of his tired face.

“Ohhhhh,” my mom cooed behind us. I gave Thomas a resigned look. She bustled down the hallway and fluttered her hands like a beauty queen near tears. “Where is he? Give him here.” She stretched her arms out. I’d never seen Thomas that relieved. He awkwardly passed the bundle on.