“If you insist on staying, I’m going to ask Gail remain as a witness. And I’ll require a recording of our conversation.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Sasha, we’re both lawyers. We didn’t get to our positions by being stupid.” I catch the slip-up and click my tongue against my teeth. “Well, at least, not academically stupid. My judgment is questionable.”
Both women gasp, but Gail slips out and returns a few seconds later with her recorder.
“So, do you agree to record this conversation for our lawyers? If not, the conversation is over.”
“Yes,” she says through gritted teeth.
Gail nods, indicating she is ready.
“Why are you here?”
“Where have you been? I’ve tried contacting you for a week. It’s irresponsible for you to disappear without my knowing your whereabouts. I could have needed you.”
“Why would you need me?”
“The baby.”
“Is the baby okay?”
“Yes, but that’s not the point.”
“It is the point. If you need me for anything to do with the baby, my lawyer knows how to contact me. If not, Gail will always know how to call. You have both their numbers. But since you seem so interested, I went out of town for work. I have a client in the World Series then spent some time with business associates.”
She stirs in the chair, greed flaring in her eyes at the mention of the World Series.
“I’d like to have a copy of your schedule, to know when you’re out of town.” She pauses and looks at Gail uncomfortably then lifts her chin to me. “I’d also like to know where you live.”
“No.” The thought of her stopping by unannounced and Bizzy answering the door pops in my head.
“Ren, I think it’s time you understand we are having a child. I’ll need to know—”
“Sasha, stop. When the time comes, we will work out a schedule for the child. But for now, we are playing it straight. As this pregnancy progresses, I’ll open my doors to you and the social worker that will be a part of our custody agreement. If you don’t feel comfortable with my home, we’ll discuss it at that time. But that’s it.”
“WHAT CUSTODY AGREEMENT?” She bolts up. “What the hell are you planning?”
“I’d prefer if we discuss this further into the pregnancy.”
“How can you be so aloof, so clinical? I’m almost seventeen weeks pregnant. It’s time we start communicating and thinking about the future. Like it or not, this will be our child for life. I’ve said it before, but I’ll repeat—I deserve your respect.”
“How am I disrespecting you? It’s you who shows up at my office, screaming and making a scene. It’s you who lied to your parents about us being a couple. I’ve committed to any and all financial responsibility. I’m doing what I think is best for everyone involved.”
“You think money is the answer? How about some support here? I see it in your eyes, Ren. You blame me for this, but I wasn’t alone in that bed. You were right there with me. If I remember correctly, you loved every second of it.”
I shudder at her statement and swallow the shame crawling up my throat.
“Sasha, that’s the problem. I don’t remember it, any of it. Not one minute of it. I’m not trying to be cruel, nor am I trying to be an asshole, but it’s the truth. This whole thing is a mystery to me. The one thing I do know is I used a condom. I understand the scientific aspects, but how exactly did you end up pregnant?”
Sasha inhales sharply and sits back down, holding her stomach. I realize I’ve probably gone too far.
“You know what? Don’t answer that because it’s a moot point now. I’m doing what I think is best here. What more do you want?”
“How about some compassion and support? Treat me like more than the woman you knocked up. You have no idea what this is like for me.”
Gail slices her eyes to mine, and I picture Bizzy and my mom in my head telling me to tread lightly. This is a hormonal woman. She’s liable to go off the rails, and I don’t want to be responsible for it.
“What would you like, Sasha? What are your demands? What did you have in mind?”
“We work together on this.”
“How?”
“I think it’s time we start getting to know one another better, introduce our families. My mom is offering to have your family over for brunch to break the ice.”