I mutter, clenching the phone. “Not this again.”
But my next call goes unanswered, and so does the next.
“What the hell,” I snap to myself.
What the fucking hell does Harley think she’s playing at? She blindsides me last night, gives me no time to do anything other than be fucking shocked, then won’t answer my calls?
At the next call, I leave a message: “Hi Harley, it’s Greyson. I want to talk to you. Pick up.”
The next call is answered.
“Hello?” an unfamiliar voice says.
What in the hell?
“Is Harley there?”
Silence.
“Well?”
“She’s sleeping.”
I look at the clock. It’s 2:30 PM.
“No, she’s not. Put her on.”
“Yes, she is,” the phone woman snaps back. Probably the cousin who was such a bitch to me last time. “And you’re in no position to be making demands.”
“I’m the father of her child,” I snarl. “I have every right.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
For a second I’m sure the bitch is going to hang up the phone, but then she sighs. “She said you were a piece of work.”
“Oh?”
“Affectionately, though.” Another sigh. “I’m Hannah, Harley’s cousin.”
“Hello again.”
“Hello again. But I’m telling you, she doesn’t want to talk to you. I just picked up to ask you to stop calling.”
“How do you know she doesn’t want to talk to me if she’s asleep?”
“Because she seriously considered putting her phone in a blender this morning before I talked her out of it.”
“Oh. Still.”
“Now’s not a great time, anyway.”
“So she’s not going to even give me a chance to respond?”
“From what I heard, you had your chance. Unless you’re calling because you know what you want?”
“If I could just talk to her—”
“Let me rephrase: Now’s a bad time. It’s almost time for us to board. The last thing she needs is you showing up and making everything more complicated.”
“Board.” I rack my mind stupidly for what she’s talking about. Not board a plane, can’t be. “Board what?”
“We’re taking a last-minute trip. We’ve been wanting to go to Thailand for ages, so we figured, why not now?”
“A trip,” I say, as if the words could have a different meaning if I say them right. “How long?”
“Haven’t decided yet. A month, maybe a few. She’ll come back to have the baby, of course. Harley doesn’t have a job, as you know, and my job loves me so much they’ll let me have all the time off I want. There couldn’t be a better time than now.”
“A few months?” I snap. “OK. You really have to let me talk to her. This is all happening so fast, for Christ’s sake!”
“I know.” Her voice is sympathetic, but firm. “And the last thing Harley ever wanted to do was to pressure you. She feels like she overstepped herself last night. She doesn’t want to be a burden or to endanger your company.”
“She…” I fall-sit onto my office chair, stare at the door. “Hannah, listen to me. Just put her on—or I swear to God, I’ll come there myself—”
“You don’t know what gate we’re at,” she points out cheerily, “but fine, I’ll ask her and see what she says.”
Muffled voices. I twist back and forth in my chair, back and forth, back and forth.
“Greyson?” Sleepy voice. Sad? Happy?
“Harley, hey, I… you’re really going away?”
“Yeah. Now might be my last chance, before… well, you know.”
“I wanted to talk to you. See you.”
“Well. We’re talking now.”
“What if I wanted to try it?”
Her pause is too long to be promising. “It?”
“Us.”
“Greyson, don’t say things you don’t mean.”
“How do you know I don’t mean it?”
“Because it’s not something that takes almost 24 hours of thought! Either you know you want to be with someone or you don’t. It’s that simple.”
“Maybe it’s not like that with everyone.”
Another pause that makes me want to chuck my phone at the wall. “Greyson, I saw you.”
“What do you mean you saw me?”
“I saw your face when I told you. There was no excitement, no happiness. You were just stunned, scared.”
“Of course I was. This is a fucking baby we’re talking about. Being a father is a big fucking deal. Of course I was scared—am scared—aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but… you already ended things with me, OK? I don’t want you being pressured into getting back together with me just because of this. Let’s not make this harder than it has to be.”
“Why can’t you believe me when I say that I want to be with you?”
When she finally speaks again, her voice is a teary whisper. “Because I don’t think even you knew what you were going to say until you called me