#41. April Tells Patrick

#41. April Tells Patrick

April put her legs together, sucked in her knees, her shoulders. She hunched over in the chair, like she was cold. She even felt a little chilly, suddenly. She stared at her husband’s chin. It was easier to look at than his eyes.

“I’m, uh – pregnant,” she said.

Patrick closed his mouth. He turned his head, stared at the wall. April was suddenly aware of the music playing, which she had completely forgotten about. She watched his eyes now, which seemed to fall slowly, toward the tile. Then his chest started to heave, like he was coming back to life. She breathed with him. She crossed her arms.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

Patrick shook his head, staring at the table. “I’m . . . wondering how,” he replied, slowly.

“Well . . .” she began.

Then Patrick’s eyes went wide, his mouth opened, and he stared right at her. “The birth control. But – you can’t be sure. How can you be sure if you haven’t been to a doctor?”

She closed her eyes as she spoke. “I went two days ago. In the morning, after you left for work.”

Then she watched him as his eyes fell to the table again. “Holy shit,” he said.

“The birth control . . .”

“Yeah, what about that?” he chimed in. “How can it be?”

“Yeah, well, it’s like ninety-nine percent effective –”

“What the hell?” Patrick raised his voice. “No way. No way it’s that simple, that we’re in the other one percent.”

April shook her head in frustration. “No, we’re not,” she said, and she felt her lower lip begin to quiver. “I don’t – I mean, I haven’t always – remembered.”

Patrick put a hand to his face. “What? To take them?”

She nodded. “I think I missed enough days . . .” she began, then couldn’t figure out how to finish.

Patrick’s jaw dropped. He looked sick. His eyes began to wander. “Pregnant,” he said, in wonderment. Then he looked at her again. “You’re pregnant? Really?”

She nodded, and tears started down her face.

“You went to the doctor and he confirmed it?”

She nodded again, and wiped her face. He wasn’t smiling. She desperately wanted him to smile. That’s what she’d pictured. Then he would hold her, and they would be happy together. And eventually they would laugh about how unexpected it was. And they would be in awe together. And talk about the baby, and the sex, and the names. And call relatives. And everyone would get excited for them. And they would start planning, planning it all out.

But since he wasn’t smiling yet, neither could she.

Suddenly Patrick stood up. He ran the fingers of one hand through his hair as he walked around the chair. He stopped and stared for a moment, then looked down at his beer. He picked it up, gripped it through his shirt to unscrew it and gulped.

April gasped. “Oh my god!” she shouted, staring at her beer. She pointed at it, and looked wide-eyed at her husband. “I was gonna drink that!” She put a hand to her head, and tears came freely now. She sobbed through her words. “Oh shit,” she said. “Shit.”

Patrick watched her for a moment, apparently dumbstruck. But then he began to blink, sucked in air, and sprang into action. He snatched her beer and leapt around the table. She heard him open the refrigerator, then she turned and watched him run to the bathroom. In two seconds he was running back to her with his hands full of toilet paper. He put a wad on the table, then he kneeled down next to her and shoved the rest into her hands.

Then he smiled. Awkwardly, in that lopsided way he did when he was trying desperately to be sincere, but couldn’t quite manage it. She smiled sadly back, and blew her nose. She took more and wiped her eyes, but she couldn’t stop sobbing. Then she felt his hand on her back, rubbing it, warming her a little. But she couldn’t stop shivering.

“Sorry,” he finally said, putting his other hand on her knee. “I’m . . . really sorry,” he said. “I’m just really surprised, that’s all. I’m just really, really surprised.”

April shrugged as she wiped her face. “I pretty much knew you would be,” she said. “You have every reason to.”

“Yeah, but – but I’m not mad, or anything,” he said. “I just – hell, I thought it was my idea to have dinner together.” He rubbed her thigh, her back. “I could have sworn I’d asked you.”

She shook her head, blew her nose. “Nope. Pretty sure I was the one with a bomb to drop.”

He was silent for a long moment. The music played on. “Yeah,” he finally replied. “I guess so.” He slowly pulled a chair up next to her and sat, without taking his hand off her back.

April’s sobs were weaker now, but it was still hard to speak through them. “I was worried . . . I mean, I’ve suspected for awhile, but I was scared. I wondered if you thought that’s what it was. Like why we weren’t having sex as much.”

He looked away in thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No, no. Definitely didn’t suspect anything.”

Then he took a deep breath. “Wow,” he said. “Wow. Have you told anyone else yet? Your mom, or anybody?”

She tried to laugh. “You think I’m a real bitch, don’t you?” She hit him lightly on the arm. “I wasn’t going to tell anybody before the father. Duh.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Patrick said. “Right.”

Neither moved for a long time. April kept dabbing her eyes as they slowly dried. She watched Patrick as he stared at nothing and breathed steadily.

“Father,” he finally said.

April nodded and managed to smile a little. “Yeah.”

He looked up at her and reached for her hands. She put the toilet paper on the table and took his hands.

“Well I guess we need to call some people, eh?” Patrick said.

April smiled brighter. “Yeah.”

And finally he smiled back at her, all the way. He reached up, touched her hair, kissed her and stood. He let go and made his way to the phone as she smiled and sniffed after him. He picked up the receiver and stared at it, as if he couldn’t figure out who to call or couldn’t remember any numbers. April looked over the table in front of her.

“Food’s cold,” she said aloud.

Patrick looked at the table, then at April. She laughed at him.